An expert in the art of dance

Press, 16 April 1980, Page 19

An expert in the art of dance

By

KEN STRONGMAN

r Television’s new programmers have gone straight to the art of the matter by devoting one hour, 40 minutes of peak viewing time to things cultural and artistic (“Kaleidoscope,” Monday, TV2). Most of this week’s programme was given to the first of six presentations on The Dance by Dame Margot Fonteyn, who, at 60, is a good advertisement for the idea of a physical life acting as a self-preservative. It is always good to

listen to a genuine expert (not just an overseas visitor) and' Margot Fonteyn is a fine example. She has a delightful elegance and an amazingly understanding smile with which she conducts her interviews. It makes' one’s cheeks ache just to watch it.

I should make it clear that dance is one of a multitude of things about which my ignorance is profound. Nevertheless, this programme was fascinating to me and has made me want to see the other five. Their aim is to trace the history and origins of dance. And dance is not just defined as ballet, although there is probably enough of this to satisfy the ballet lover.

My hope is that the programmes will allow me

to understand ballet a little so that I might appreciate it more. I have never been able to like it much, even though there is a more than sneaking admiration for the accomplishments and endowments of the male dancers. But it was not just ballet. There was Fred Astaire, who was as good to listen to as to watch. And Sammy Davis Jnr, demonstrating styles of tap-danc-ing; enough to make one wish that a whole pro-

gramme had been devoted to him. Then back to ballet with some film of Ulanova, who, as I understand it, was a Mark II Pavlova (perhaps with fewer eggs). Finally, much time was devoted to the incomparable Nureyev and his importance in fighting for the male role in ballet. He has been skirmishing against female domination in ballet (female chauvinist swans?) much as women have been skirmishing against male domination in all other walks of life.

The final half an hour of Monday's “Kaleidoscope” reverted to its usual format. Hamsell’s 1980 sculpture exhibition was interesting enough; in fact, it provided an excellent opportunity to see what is happening in

modem sculpture, whether one likes it or not. But, as a presenter, Angela D’Audney is too earnest and condescending. Her manner seems at least partly concerned with implying how much she knows as with quizzing her guests. Which is a pity, because it is obvious that she is genuinely knowledgeable. Her hand movements are an object lesson and if your concentration drifts at all are worth watching for a few moments. She is a master of the tip of the forefinger caught hard on the thumb, with the hand then making a sharp downwards movement.

The aim is to add apparent precision to words which by themselves are not as precise as they might be. (Peter Sinclair does it even more often in Master of Arts.) “Kaleidoscope,” then, is well worth the effort and is well-positioned on a Monday evening. The next five hours of “The Magic of Dance” should be educational, entertaining, and might even change antediluvian attitudes like mine.

But, in the programme as a whole one does have to put up with a rather awkward presentation.. This week, one interview was conducted in the studio, standing up. Why?My only hypothesis is that the seats had been whipped away to form part of some artistic assemblage in Masterton.

POINTS OF VIEWING