THE NEW DANCER.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 277, 15 August 1908, Page 12

THE NEW DANCER.

A FURORE IN EUROPE. A REMARKABLE. PERFORMANCE. Maud Allan, a California girl, has created a furore in Europe recently by her barefoot classic dancing. A few years ago Isadora Duncan, also an American, had great success in Germany as, an exponent of the same art. Miss Allan has been appearing at the Palace llioatro of Varieties, London, and lias met }uth almost sensational succpss in lier Vision of Salome" and her interpretative dancing of Chopin's "Funeral March"and Mendelssohn's "Spring Song." A. B Walkley, tho critic of the London " Times,"describes ,her dancing as follows

When Miss Allan's 'turn' arrives, at a quarter past ten, there is the sudden silence tliat betokens eager expectation. Tho staeo is unfurnished savo for a few pedestals tor llainbeaux, and for background there are plain velvet curtains of a subfusk hue. Thou tho violin bows glide softly into the first strains of Chopin's Valso in A Minor op 34, No. 2—and the dream begins. The figu.ro of the dream is a young girl; you perceivo lier, that is to say, to be a girl when you wake again, but to your dreaming sense she is a liy nip til or a Tallage statuette. Timidly she slips through the curtains, and then appears to bo drawn unconsciously into movonient by tho music. "Silo wears light classic drapery that seems not so much to clothe her, as to serve as ambient air wherein she floats. Her limbs and feet arc bare; slender and supple limbs, feet that seem rather to caress the ground than to be supported by it. When her arms wave it is a'wave'-in the true sense that they form; a ripple runs along them, slowly dying out at the finger tips. Her hands havo something of tho leaf or petal about tucm, gently opening and folding or curving back upon their stem. . , . Here they express_ a pensive melancholy, the vague sad reverie of Chopiij's music. . ' But the A minor valse, as everyone knows, modulates at times 'into tho relative major, and then the dancer's face changes and expresses hope and joy, and her hands and limbs and all the movements of lieri body express hope and joy. Only for a moment, however, for again tho music sinks back into the minor key and you sco the joy fading out of tho girl's,face and leaving her arms and hands, and sho dances as ona oppressed, falling at last into a wan despair. Tho music ceasos; the dancer is quito still, with head bowed over hands that seem lifeless ; then she glides quietly through tho curtain—and you awaken almost reluctantly from your dream.

"Your next dream' is to' the familiar, rather too familiar, tune of Mendelssohn's ' Spring Song,' the dream figure flitting hither and thither—allegretto grazioso—in pursuit of an'imaginary butterfly. This is, of course, no time for languorous melancholy j the girl's movements are brisk and ragid; she makes littlo rushes backward and forward or, like 'Camilla, skims along the plain.' Now she is cu tiptoo, with arms outstretched, now swiftly bending to the ground, now .'settling' for a moment like the butterfly slip pursues—in short, she gives you the quintessence of the papilionaceous. This you count a day dream. ''But the dancer has reserved her masterstroke for the last. This 'Vision of Salome' has not only made her famous, but has so haunting a fascination that many people cannot keep away from it, and return to the Palace to see it night after night. To the strains of weird Oriental, music, Salome slowly descends th,e palace steps. There are jewels ou her neck and bosom, and she wears a tunic of black gauze. . . . Her dancing' as Salome, though- eastern' in spirit through and through, is absolutely without the slightest suggestion of the vulgarities so familiar to the tourist in Cairo or Tangier. Sho achieves the. distinction—wo admit it risks being a nice distinction, but she achieves it— ( between,the. lascivious and the,voluptuous. - - "Salome'dance's as,'bhe'fascinated, slowly, . advancing toward the ,! rev coding from it, gradually drawing nearer andnearer, then, falling upon hands andi knees and gloating, half savagely, half amorously,'' over it, then pouncing'upon it like a hawk upon its prey. Thereafter she dances fear, a' quivering, shuddering dance, and finally collapses, a huddled—but still graceful, still beautiful —mass. And there you have the • secret of her art, sheor beauty—every line in it, every rhythm, every movement, overy posture, every pause is beautiful."