LURE OF THE DANCE

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 153, 25 March 1937, Page 9

LURE OF THE DANCE

Advent of the Monte Carlo Russian Ballet OLDEST OF THE ARTS (By H.P.) Dancing is the oldest of arts. Deep down in the human make-up is the desire to express in physical motion the pulsations of rhythm, and give it tangible, beautiful expression, according to the culture of the expositors. And this desire is universal. No primitive tribe ever discovered ever so remote from the ways of modern civilisation, has lacked its dances; in such cases often designed to give ceremonial expression of the vital elements of our being—birth, love, marriage and death. So from the very beginnings of the world mankind has made expression of his joy and sorrow through the medium of the dance. It is the theatricalising of the primitive folk and tribal dances of all countries which has contributed to the creation of the ballet as we know it today. All nature teaches rhythm, which manifests itself in the waves and tides, in the vibrations of light and sound, in the harmonious movement of the heavenly spheres, and, when man began to try to express his feelings by the rhythmic movements of the body, he was merely taking part in the everlasting Dance of the Universe. Dancing even preceded music, which was extemporised as an afterthought or an enlivening accessory. One needs only to make a little research to ascertain that words, now used exclusively in connection with different forms of

music, originally applied to the dance. Among these words are orchestra, chorus, chorale, carol, and even anthem. The Greek chorus led by the choragus, performed a ceremonial dance in the orchestra (from the word orchester, a dancer; orcheomai, to dance), as an accompaniment to the tragedy being enacted upon the stage, a step above the level of the orchestra (what is now the orchestra well in our theatres). The word carol comes from an old French dance performed at Christmastide, and the anthem derived from the Greek word for flower was an ancient Greek dance—the flower dance. What is more natural, then, that these primitive dances should be accompanied by pantomime to symbolise the. meaning of the dance, or mark the significance of the occasion? Wed the dance to pantomime, and apply it to your gigues, bourees, gavottes, minuets, sarabandes, tarantellas, or cachucas en masse and you have the ballet as we are to see it par excellence in Colonel de Basil’s Monte Carlo Russian Ballet, which is to appear at the Grand Opera House on Saturday afternoon and evening in a dazzling programme. Naturally the finished product that we are to see in Wellington during the next few days did not develop suddenly. The ballet emerged in Italy about the middle of the sixteenth century, and from there, its lure slowly spread throughout Europe. It was France which seized upon the new diversion with the greatest avidity, under the patronage of Catherine de Medici. Cardinal Richelieu invented splendid effects for the ballet, and Louis 111 himself danced in a ballet at St. Germain. His successor was also a skilful dancer, so that the ballet was adopted by France as one of the most aristocratic and artistic diversions of those times. That fashion sank into the comprehension of musical composers, and, in France particularly, the ballet became an important integral part of the opera. The French operas of the eighteenth and nineteenth century retained the ballet as an indispensable element, and it is on record that the principal dancers ranked even higher than the prima donnas. . So we have the ballet music in “Faust” (usually omitted in English productions), “Le Cid” (Massenet), "Rosamunde” (Schubert) and hundreds of other operas. Even to-day the French people look for a ballet with operatic performances, and are disappointed when they do not get it. The ballet proper has never been naturalised in England. There have been thousands of dancing shows, anil the Tiller girls have peopled the music balls and cabarets of the Continent, but the classic ballets and dancers have almost invariably come from abroad. As expressed in the higher forms, the ballet has during the last 50 years been left almost exclusively to the Russians, who have shown a distinct flair for dancing in its more romantic and dramatic forms, and who have, with supreme audacity and skill, brought the world to its feet by their amazing expositions of the symphonic ballets, usually dramatic or tragic stories in action, to the music of the masters. It is in such exquisite forms and designs of the ballet that Wellington is to revel during the ensuing fortnight.

With memories of the adorable Adeline Genee and the sveldt, bird-like Anna Pavlova, of imperishable memory, it is with pleasure that all interested in the art will anticipate witnessing the choreographic creations of Nijinsky, Fokine, Massine, and other master creators of this school. Not that the ballet, as we are to see it, is Russian in birth; rather is it the perfection of the ballet dancing of all nations, wrought into symbolic form to suit the Slavonic temperament. By sheer relentless bard work, allied to superlative ideals, these people have perfected an art, making the Russian ballet supreme. Colonel de Basil, to whose enterprise the Monte Carlo ballet owes its existence, was born in the Caucasus. He excelled at the soldiers’ lezghinka and other dances of his native mountains. He starred Chaliapin in the Russian Opera Company just after the war, then stepped from opera to ballet. He revitalised the latter medium by his conception of a company of veterans teaching children the art, and presenting the ancient ballet productions as they taught. One year’s utter nonsuccess, heart-breaking in its intensity, attended his efforts until he went to London in 1933 for a three weeks’ season—and stayed live months. Now he makes his headquarters at Monte Carlo, giving a yearly season at Covent Garden. He has made an American four which netted the organisation just 1.000,000 dollars, and has another in progress at the moment. Last year be formed two companies, equally dividing his talent, and sent one company to cultivate new ground in Australia and New Zealand. Twenty-four ballets were presented in Australian capitals over a period of four months. A New Zealand tour was uncertain till the last moment. The reason: Did New Zealanders know what ballet was? The Auckland success of Pavlova and the 1931 Italian Grand Opera Company saved them the disgrace of being adjudged ignorant, and the tour of the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo has eventuated.

(Radio Programmes on Page 5.)