An Attack of Balletomania

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23269, 11 February 1939, Page 6 (Supplement)

An Attack of Balletomania

By JOYCE JEFFERY

" TUST fancy," said someone, the " other day, as the car crawled up the last mile and a half to a farm 15 miles from anywhere, " Just fancy living here and knowing that the Russian Ballet was in Auckland!" That makes one realise how " bal-let-conscious " wo have become since last we had a ballet among us, in 1937. Before that we were mostly pretty iguorant of everything concerning ballerinas and their art._ Now, at least, we are aware of our ignorance. A little book on " Ballet," which can be purchased for the lowly sub of Is, offers us true enlightenment and a new conception of the art. The book traces for us the history of ballet, its struggles, its adventure, its achievement, and makes one realise that only the splendid faith of the few saved ballet after tho death of Diaghileff in 1929, and that courage and daring have given it a fresh start, in spite of the scepticism of those who would have buried it in Venice with him. Books such as Theatre Street," " Nijinski," " Borzoi," and so on, have been fairly widely read and after a careful study of the glossary at the end of Haskell's little book on ballet, wo have tho courage and confidence to attempt, at least, the names of those Russian stars whom previously we admired in silence, or under cover of a sudden cough, and murmured incoherent nothings. When Language is Movement To-day we can even make comparisons as to whether, for instance, the romantic reverie of " Les Sylphides " with Chopin's music, gains anything by the addition of Corot's background in place of the plain curtain used by a previous company. It is possible for us to compare the costuming of " Carnival " beside the character work and technique of the dancers, and

that, of course, is to their benefit a3 ■well as our own. We may have been privileged to see ballet elsewhere before its, debut in New Zealand —in London, at Covent Garden itself; Leon Woizikorssky's Ballet, at the Coliseum Theatre, at Charing Cross; the ballet at Sadlers Wells, with Pearl Argyle, and other highly-talented English dancers,,or the modern satirical ballet of Kurt Jooss.

If one should approach the ballet at Sadlers Wells for the first time with a hint of querulous disdain in one's criticism, that mood must be surely and swiftly altered by the talent and sincerity of the interpretation. One learns, at Sadlers "Wells, that ballet can and is conceivably as English as it is Russian. De Basil's Ballet with Leon Woizikovsky we had the privilege of enjoying here in 1937. In Arnold Haskell's book, he mentions, as the most outstanding of the Ballets Jooss, the political satire, " The Green j Table." "

Kurt Jooss himself, speaking of ballet, has said:—

We believe in the dance as an independent art of tho theatre, an art which cannot be expressed in words, but whose language is movement built up of forms_ and penetrated by the emotions. We desire to serve the dance of the theatre, which we look upon as this most intensely significant synthesis of living dramatic expression with the dance properly so called. We aim, therefore, at discovering- a choreography deriving equally from the contributions of modern art and from the technique of the classical ballet. We find the basis of our work in the whole range of human feeling and all the phases of its infinite expression and by concentration on tho " essential," we arrive at our form in the dance. The classical, you see, is not cast aside for the modern, it is incorporated with it. Kurt Jooss is a German Jew; His work is cosmopolitan in its artistry, if bitter in its satire. One has memories of his " Ballade," taken from an old French folk song, " The Big City," his romantic " Ball in Old Vienna," and most vivid of all, " The Mirror," a dance drama in eight scenes.. . . .... The Artist in Every Heart Discussing acrobatics in relation to ballet, Arnold Haskell stresses the fact that steps by themselves, in themselves, have uo real beauty. Anyone, in his opinion, can learn with practice to perfect a series of entrechats. With this consoling promise, we attempt before a mirror that which Mr. Haskell tosses off lightly as a thing of little account, with a flick of his interesting pen. There is a sketch in the glossary to show you the way Nijinski, it will be remembered, could with apparent ease achieve ten entrechats ere his feet touched the earth again—but Nijinski was half a bird! We attempt, at first, a modest two. With laboured breathy and surrounded by pictures and furniture quivering at an impending doom, we struggle to complete our first effort; again and again we strive, but ever the ground is there before one step is complete. With such a resounding thud it meets us that we are slightly discouraged and wonder if perhaps wo should ever become a danseuse at all. In some corner of his heart, goes a French saying, every man is still 21. So, too, in some corner of the heart, every one of us is a little of a poet, a little of an artist. Watching a bird in flight, have we not lifted tired limbs from the cool grass, stretched heavy arms and fingers upwards and in spirit flown toward the gulls, as light as they? Children believe implicitly that they eou'd fiv if they tried hard <M» >!• v '> ' : >i>r ''">ll for ni". continued t'""' '<! ••• i •' knee or r ■' .. rev:-If ere loir 1 -e V:ij,s from the f ■>:• I,- ;l tin: sweet

The Art of Movement to Express Every Human Emotion

| surety that one day I should land as ft bird lands, or a bee upon a flower. It is well that Baronova and Riabouchinska are a perfect vicarious fulfilment. More Than Meat or Drink Already ballet is important to some of us. To .many it is nlore than meat or drink. In London I was initiated into the mysteries of ballet by a young Jewish balletomane, who would have gladly (and often, I believe, did), gone without a meal rather than miss a performance. Wo went always in the cheapest seats, and never did it detract from our enjoyment, possibly because neither of us knew any more elegant way of visiting the theatre. And here in Auckland there are those of us who infinitely prefer to enjoy three performances from the hard, wooden viewpoint of the " gods " —albeit this will mean many an hour's queuing beforehand—than to squander our all in a burst of elegant comfort at the first performance. In ballet is expressed our admiration for classicism, or romanticism. The joy of living, its power of movement, free and delightful, are interpreted for us in a rhythmic grace that is a lovely complement to symphony or serenade. Muscles taut or straining in a perfect pose, the loveliness of youth, poise, grace, gaiety, charm, the exquisite perfection of movement, those things which must for ever bo denied to so many of us personally, are splendidly there in ballet. All youth, all fire, ail ecstacy is there; and even if tho music should he beyond our understanding, the technique or choreography beyond our previous experience, sufficient it would be, I think, to let tho poetry of the dance alone enchant us, to let it interpret for each one of us, our hopes, frustrations, laughter, frailties, and joys.