Chapter XXXV: Finale: the Russians And--The Future

It is curious to recall the fact that a taste for dancing has always been a characteristic of the Londoners, who have supported really artistic ballet as often as they have had an opportunity.

The Elizabethan masques; the ballet dancers imported by Rich in the reign of Anne; and by Garrick, later; by Lumley at Her Majesty’s in the ’forties; the native productions of Ballet at the Empire and Alhambra for over a quarter of a century; and, since, the importation of Russian ballet, first at various “vaudeville” theatres and then at Covent Garden and at Drury Lane, have all met with enthusiastic support, and the support has been as catholic as it has been cordial.

Dancers, of various schools, whether of the traditional ballet “school,” or otherwise, have quickly found their way into popular favour. Looking back over theatrical memories of the past twenty years or so, dance lovers will recall with pleasure seeing at the Palace Theatre that statuesque and extremely graceful dancer, Miss Mimi St. Cyr, in a delightful little miniature ballet, “La Baigneuse,” a dance-_scena_ invented by Mr. George R. Sims, in which she lured to life the fountain-statue of a piping faun. Some will recall also a dancer of very different school, Miss Lottie Collins, whose “Tarrara-boom-de-ay” was a sensation in its way. Then, too, who that saw her could ever forget that electric dancer hailing from Australia, Mlle. Saharet, who entered as on the wings of a whirlwind and, seeming all compact of

“Passion and power and pride incarnate in laughter,” held us all spellbound and breathless with sympathetic joy in her abounding vitality, stimulating and tonic as champagne.

In more recent times the sensational success of Miss Maud Allan--who presented us with the somewhat mystical definition of dancing as “the spontaneous expression of a spiritual state”; and, subsequently, of Mme. Pavlova and M. Mordkin; is too recent to need recalling, and too evident to call for specific praise from me when so many and abler pens have already exhausted their ink in regretting they could not write in fire. Admirers, particularly feminine devotees, flocked in hundreds to see Miss Maud Allan dance in a manner which many doubtless thought wholly new to London, though some might have recalled that it was somewhat of the same school--though temperamentally very different--as that of Miss Isadora Duncan, who had given us dances of a rather similar order some ten years before, and that they were akin to the mimetic dances of ancient days.

Miss Allan achieved a remarkable flexibility of movement that was seen to advantage in her dances to the music of Chopin and other classic masters. Her interpretation of the “Spring Song” of Mendelssohn was not wholly new to those who had seen Miss Isadora Duncan’s exposition of the same music some ten years before. Her “Salome,” a melodrama in dancing, created a sensation, though somewhat morbid in effect, and hardly of the same artistic interest as some of her other achievements. Of her popularity there was no doubt, and a photograph of one of the queues which awaited any one of her performances, especially the _matinées_, would--if one exist--always be valuable to future historians of our time as a mute but eloquent record.

Mme. Pavlova, who also first appeared at the Palace Theatre, is an extremely accomplished _danseuse_ who probably has not troubled, and certainly has not _needed_ to trouble herself, about definitions of the dance, for she belongs to a “school,” the basis of which was defined a century or more ago, and she herself is one of its most recent and perfect blossomings. Mons. Mordkin, nurtured by the same school, is superb, and it was no wonder that the first appearance of these two artistes in their wonderful _pas de deux_, “L’Automne Bacchanale,” should have fired some of our finest dramatic critics to expressions of almost frenzied admiration and doubtless driven shoals of lesser men to the neighbourhood of Hanwell in despair at the impossibility of finding suitable adjectives for the new wonder that had come amongst us. One can only deplore the fact that the harmony which made possible the _pas de deux_ of the first season should have been, even temporarily, broken, and permitted us only to enjoy the work of both dancers subsequently in _pas seuls_, or in _pas de deux_--with other partners.

One could hardly close a reference to the popular Palace--a reference necessarily brief, as must be any concerning the various “vaudeville” houses in a review covering so wide a field--without a passing word of grateful praise to that bevy of bright young dancers, the “Palace Girls.” As people of catholic enough taste to enjoy _all_ dancing that is good in itself--from the vigorous cellar-flap of the street urchin to the aerial _pas_ of a Pavlova--we may agree that, in a sense, the Palace has been all the more attractive for the “Palace Girls.” Somehow the modern comedic spirit appears to express itself best in short skirts, shapely legs and a jolly smile; and in their insouciante charm, their neatness, agility, precision and _enfantine_ gaiety, the “Palace Girls” always seemed to focalise the requirements of “vaudeville,” and symbolise the attractions of music-hall modernity.

Then, at the London Hippodrome, in many a Christmas entertainment, ingeniously arranged and gorgeously staged, half pantomime, half ballet, we have seen regular feasts of dancing and always with enjoyment. But apart from the spectacular productions for which the Hippodrome early became famous, many a delightful solo dancer and dance-_scena_ have been viewed there. To have seen those exquisitely dainty artists, the Wiesenthal Sisters, is to have ineffaceable memories of a stage-art that seems strangely enough to link up the classic simplicity of ancient Greece with the Watteauesque artifice of the eighteenth century, and yet again the clear-seeing artistry, the supreme and joyous colour-sense of latter day decorative art. The tone and hue of their chosen background, the simple yet daring colour-scheme of their dress, the thoughtful, almost dreamy, grace of their every pose and movement, the purely picture-like effect of their whole performance, summed up the modern spirit in art that is striving--perhaps as yet half-consciously--for a revolt from old methods and stereotyped traditions and for something simpler, clearer, more direct and, be it said, more beautiful and vital than we have yet had; the art, in fact, of the men to come rather than the men who have been, albeit it has drawn inspiration from the eternal past. The Wiesenthal Sisters were not mere “performers”; they were poems.

Elsewhere, at various houses, what other dancers have we seen of individual distinction? Long remembered must be the sensation caused by Miss Loie Fuller on her first appearance in London some years ago, as the introducer of a curious form of dance in which the stage effects she achieved were the paramount attraction. And what effects they were--kaleidoscopic, magic, wonderful! Just a woman, with a brain and shapely form, a mass of filmy draperies floated here and there, on which were shed the splendour of changing coloured lights, so that she seemed now some wondrous butterfly, now like a mass of cloud suffused with the gold of dawn, now like a fountain of living flame! Yes, Loie Fuller should have been an artist! Should have? _Is_ an artist, who has not painted pictures but has lived them.

Then there was Miss Ruth St. Denis at the Scala--a vision of all the poetry and the mystery of the East. Ruth St. Denis in an Indian market-place representing a snake-dance, making cobras of her flexible arms and hands! Ruth St. Denis as a Buddhist acolyte in the jungle! Ruth St. Denis in a “Dance of the Senses,” so significantly poetic and full of strange allure. Always the glamour of the East, but without its menace and without its vice; the East exalted and austere. Moreau himself might have envied her those dreams of form and colour she made manifest, and all who saw her surely must have realised that Ruth St. Denis danced her lovely pictures as an artist born.

Yet another artist of marked individuality and intellectual distinction, Miss Isadora Duncan, was really the first to appear in London who showed any marked ability to break away from the traditional schools of ballet and step-dancing, and, casting back to the days of ancient Greece, began deliberately to use posture and movement as a means of expressing poetic ideas. I first saw her at her London _début_, when she appeared in a performance of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” one of a series of Shakespearian revivals which Mr. F. R. Benson was giving--on February 22nd, 1900--at the old Lyceum.

She had but lately arrived from America, and was fired with an enthusiasm for the graceful dance of classic days, an enthusiasm which found ample expression in her dance as a wood-nymph in a Shakespearian production which I still remember as one of the most beautiful I have seen. Shortly after Miss Duncan gave a special _matinée_ at the old St. George’s Hall entitled, “The Happier Age of Gold,” at which idylls of Theocritus, poems by Swinburne and other poets of classic inspiration, were recited to music and were either accompanied or followed by an appropriate dance designed and performed by Miss Duncan, who also set herself the task of interpreting well-known musical _morceaux_ by means of a dance.

One of the items on her programme was Mendelssohn’s “Spring Song,” which received a thoroughly graceful and sympathetic interpretation. Miss Duncan has, of course, appeared in London frequently since then, and all dance-lovers will remember the extraordinary charm of the series of _matinées_ which she gave at the Duke of York’s Theatre at which she introduced a number of child pupils. There has never been anything meretricious or pretentious about the work of Miss Isadora Duncan. It has always been marked by a sense of deep-rooted culture, classic dignity and poetic charm, and to her, certainly, so far as London is concerned, belongs the credit of having first introduced a form of dancing which has only too often since been parodied under the term of “classic dancing”; and even as she was the first, so, in my humble judgment, she is the best and truest exponent of a school which is justified by the beauty of its results, and which is having, and is likely yet to have, far-reaching influence.

_Dover St. Studios_

Miss Isadora Duncan]

Then again, the Coliseum, young as it is, has already created dance traditions for itself, and of the best sort. Was it not there first of all that we were enchanted with the Russian ballet? They were not the first Russian dancers seen in London, for Mlle. Kyasht and Mme. Pavlova had preceded them; but they were the first collective example of Russian ballet from the Moscow and Petrograd Opera-Houses, and it was here we first saw Mme. Karsavina, one of the most supremely finished and _élégante_ dancers it has been London’s good fortune to see. What lightness, what purity and dignity of style, what perfect execution and perfect ease, and what poetic charm!

Her _variation_ in the “Sylphide” was a revelation of classic art of the Taglioni school, and howsoever some may prefer one “school” to another there must always be much to be said for a training which assists the evolution of such artists, for at least it is a sure training with sure and gracious results.

There is something in tradition when all it said and done, and one has to remember that while even an iconoclastic “Futurist” cannot help creating tradition in attempting to do away with it, and while pure ballet-dancing may not be the one and only kind which can give delight, it must command the respect that is due to any art which respects its own traditions, and can produce such dancers as Mme. Karsavina and those who were first associated with her at the Coliseum.

More recently, we were to see at the same house, “Sumurun!” It was strange indeed to think that a London audience could be held by some seven scenes of a play in which not a word was spoken; it was a _tour de force_ of the art of miming, but then also it was a revelation of the art of stage effect. The decorative scheme, with its simple lines and ample space, was unlike anything that we had had before--unless perhaps in the nobler art of Mr. Gordon Craig--and the colour schemes, mostly of a curiously dry, cool note, were a pleasant change from the traditional attempts at a stage realism that is only too often too unreal.

Since then too there was, of course, the appearance of that dainty Dresden-china dancer, Mme. Karina in a graceful little dance-_scena_, “The Colour of Life,” the expressive music of which was by Miss Dora Bright. Mme. Karina, another dancer who hails from Denmark, won instant appreciation for the beauty of her work, and is indeed notable for her precision, grace and distinction.

Yet again has Mlle. Adeline Génée made welcome reappearances at the Coliseum, especially in “La Danse”--first produced, I believe, at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York--which formed a series of representations of the dances and dancers of the historic past--forming practically a collection of little cameos of the dance, having a distinct educational value and presenting a veritable re-creation of all the great stars of Ballet in the past, from Prévôt to Taglioni; in all of which the world-famous dancer exhibited the same high qualities of artistry that she had ever done.

But among the many dance productions seen at this handsome house probably the two most satisfactory judged as ballet were the production of Mr. Wilhelm’s “Camargo,” with Mlle. Génée in the title-_rôle_; and M. Kosloff’s production of “Scheherazade,” the two forming an outstanding contrast in one’s memory. The former, with the quiet dignity, soft light and sumptuous stage embellishments of furniture and _décors_, and the dream-like quality assumed by the characters in this rich and harmonious setting. One found in it something of that visionary quality which gave the peculiar charm to the “Versailles” production which I spoke of in referring to the Empire. The music and the acting were so expressive that one did not miss the words, and yet half-consciously one knew they were not there just because of the dream-like atmosphere which the music itself so helped to create.

The royal grace and dignity of Louis-Quinze, the butterfly vivacity of Camargo herself, and the more vital and quieter actions of her young soldier friend for whose misdeeds she pleads for pardon from the King, were all but dream figures in a dream, and it was as if the veil of the past had been suddenly drawn aside and one had a glimpse of a century seen through the half light of early dawn. Once more Mlle. Génée excelled herself in doing apparently impossible things with consummate ease, and once more one was glad to welcome the sensitive, expressive and scholarly work of so accomplished a musician as Miss Dora Bright.

There was nothing of the cool and dream-like quality, however, about Mons. Kosloff’s “Scheherazade.” Exotic, bizarre, palpitant with warmth and colour, the production stormed the imagination with its extravagance of hue and tone, even as the tangled rhythms and seductive melodies of the music captured the hearing and through it subdued the mind to a sort of dazzled wonder. It was a stupendous achievement, the more so in that it was brief.

At various times and at various places we have seen in London during the past ten years or so every form of dance and ballet it would seem could possibly exist. “Sand” dances; “Buck” dances; “Hypnotic” dances; “Salome” dances; “Vampire” dances; “Apache,” “Classic,” “Viennese,” Turkish, Egyptian, Russian, “Inspirational” dancers, and even English ballet-dancers in an all-British ballet once at the handsome Palladium; and also at the Court and Savoy, where Stedman staged some delightful ballets performed, under the direction of Miss Lilian Leoffeler and Mr. Marshall Moore, by English dancers. Not only at the regular vaudeville houses and theatres, however, is to be found genuine appreciation of the British dance and dancer. Elsewhere an English school of dance has been founded, and that in a form for which the English nation was famous in Shakespeare’s time.

Henley made his plea for “Gigues, Gavottes and Minuets,” but there are many other lovely, or lovelier, examples of old-world dance to old-world music, which scholarship has revived and good taste has been eagerly accepting wherever they were seen--_Pavane_, _Chaconne_, _Coranto_, _Galliard_, _Bourrée_, _Rigaudon_, _Passepied_, and _Sarabande_. These, and other ancient dances, were, as we know, the delight of the Courts of Queen Elizabeth, of Charles II, of Anne, of Louis-Quatorze--_le Grand Monarque_, of Louis-Seize and Marie Antoinette. Many have been revived and performed to the music of the harpsichord, violin, viola, viole-d’amour, and ’cello; and the curious thing--or, rather, interesting thing, for it really is not strange--is that both to scholars and to those unlearned in their history, to cultured townsman or woman, and to country lad and lass, to bored frequenters of the West End drawing-room, and to those who find only in their dreams relief from the sordidness of an East End environment, this old-world dance and music make an instant appeal.

I saw this put to the test once when, at a hall in the somewhat dingy neighbourhood of Bethnal Green, a performance of the “Ancient Music and Dances,” arranged by Miss Nellie Chaplin, was received by an audience of East End work-people with such whole-hearted enthusiasm that practically every item in a programme often performed in West End drawing-rooms and at Queen’s and Albert Halls, as well as at Liverpool and Manchester, Guildford, Oxford and elsewhere, was encored, and several were doubly and trebly so.

A Galliard of the seventeenth century, an Allemande by an English composer, Robert Johnson (1540-1626), Handel’s Oboe Concerto (1734), a Sarabande by Destouches (1672), “Lady Elizabeth Spencer’s Minuet” performed at Blenheim in 1788--all these and other historically interesting items were encored by the audience, not because of their historic interest, but simply because of their joyousness and charm; while a _bourrée_ by Mouret (1742), and the fascinating Old English dance, “Once I loved a maiden fair” (one of a group including “Althea,” “Lord of Carnarvon’s Jig,” and Stanes’ Morris-dance) had to be given three times. This was all complimentary, of course, to the beautiful way in which the dances and music were performed; but it was an interesting revelation of the eternal appeal to humanity, whatsoever the degree of caste or wealth, of the really good thing in art, and certainly the centuries are bridged with ease by the charm and joyousness of these old-time dances to their appropriate music, seen and heard more recently and to such advantage amid congenial environment in “Shakespeare’s England” at Earl’s Court.

Veritably we seem to have seen every known form of dance and type of dancer in London during the past twenty years or so, and latterly we have had at the Royal Opera-House, and, since, at Drury Lane, such a festival of ballet as has not been seen in England since the ’forties of last century, for here we have seen a galaxy of dancers from the two great opera-houses of Russia, that of the Mariensky at Petrograd, and that of the great theatre in Moscow, where the traditional training for ballet has been kept up and infused with a new artistic spirit such as is hardly to be found in any other continental opera-house.

Early in last century Carlo Blasis brought the Milan school to perfection, and thence went teachers to Paris, Vienna, Dresden, Moscow, Petrograd, wherever they went carrying something of the artistic spirit and culture of their master, one of the most versatile _maîtres de ballet_ there has ever been, for there seems to have been scarcely an art of which he did not know something, and of which he could not say something worth hearing.

But since those days probably nowhere quite as in Russia has the ballet moved with the times and been so imbued with the new artistic spirit which has been at work within the past generation.

Painter, musician, poet, dramatist, and _maître de ballet_, are called upon to produce the homogeneous and individual spectacle which we call the Russian ballet.

One has to recall but a few examples from the Russian _répertoire_ to note with what serious artistic purpose the art of Ballet is studied by the representatives of the best school. Glazounov’s “Cleopatra,” a “mimodrame” in one act; “Les Sylphides,” a _rêverie romantique_, the music by Chopin; Schumann’s exquisitely whimsical “Le Carnaval,” made into a pantomime-ballet in one act; “Le Dieu Bleu,” by that curiously interesting and _rêveur_ composer Reynaldo Hahn. These are among the productions which, ranging over classic, poetic and romantic subjects, would veritably have appealed to such artists of the Ballet as Rameau, Noverre, Gardel and Blasis, not to mention other _maîtres_ of more recent times. And what dancers to interpret them! M. Nijinsky, perhaps the best male dancer of our time, so good that one’s usual objection to the male dancer melted into admiration: Mme. Karsavina, Mlles. Sophie Fedorova and Ludmilla Schollar were among the _danseuses_ who had been seen in London previously, and were each in their degree remarkable not only as dancers but as brilliant mimes. There was not one among the extensive and interesting cast who was not of Russia’s best, the best that is that can come from the school where the traditional art of Ballet is understood not to be the result of a mere few lessons in “dancing,” but the result of a study also of all that is best in the traditions of art and music and literature, from all of which the art of Ballet draws its inspiration.

Yet again, one must pay tribute to the Russian artists on their masterly sense of stage effect, and for that supreme sense of what the ballet should be, namely, a harmony of the arts. One has but to contrast three such productions as “Les Sylphides,” “Cleopatra,” and Schumann’s “Carnaval,” to see a revelation of stage artistry which put to shame the conventionality which, save in rare instances--and in English ballet--had characterised the London stage so long.

In “Les Sylphides” we had the very essence of that spirit of romanticism in which cultured Europe was revelling during the ’twenties and the ’thirties of last century, a spirit which found expression in depicting the wildness and grandeur of mountain scenery, in the cloud-like fantasies of Shelley, in the poignant intensity of Byronic passion, and the romantic glamour of Spanish and German legend.

In “Cleopatra” we had a glimpse of the pride and passion of an imperious Queen, ruling over a nation whose own passions were but subdued by tyranny, in a land where earth itself seemed satiated with the fructifying influence of water and a burning sun. From the first moment to the last the stage was in a glow, and a red thread of tragedy deepened to a climax of despair.

What a change to turn from such a production to the whimsies, romance and fantasy of such a thing as Schumann’s “Carnaval!” Here was the obverse of the romanticism of “Les Sylphides”; the undercurrent of mockery and poetic cynicism so characteristic of Schumann’s own music in its lighter moods, characteristic of Heine and of de Musset. Here again one found a masterly idea in the audacious simplicity of the stage setting. To see the great stage of Covent Garden decorated with long curtains and two sofas of the truly early-Victorian pattern--stiff, prim, unyielding, and covered with striped repp--was a thing to take one’s breath away, until, as the music began, little figure after little figure slipped, like figures in a dream, between the curtains: Pierrot, Pierrette, Harlequin--little men and women of the ’thirties mingling with these eternal characters of drama, to make a series of pictures of wooings and repulses, of meetings and partings, of provocations and denials, revealing the comedy of life, seen as it were in a glass “not darkly,” but as a dream far off and mistily; eminently unreal; yet, in some other world far, far away, in some mysterious land of dreams, one felt such things perchance might be.

“Le Sacre du Printemps” was an ambitious attempt at primitivism--if one may use the word--but while disliking its suggestion of megalomania and the formlessness of its decoration, one could not but admire so audacious an endeavour to break wholly with tradition; and it was redeemed by the virility and fantastic, mocking humour and scenic splendour of Rimsky-Korsakov and Michel Fokine’s “Le Coq d’Or,” and still more by the beauty of Leon Bakst and Tcherepinin’s “Narcisse,” and the poetic charm of “Le Spectre de la Rose.”

These, however, are but brief impressions of recent pleasures, shared by many others who may have been differently impressed. We have had many books and articles on the Russian ballet--some perhaps a little over-enthusiastic--and it is not my purpose to deal extensively with history so recent that most readers can as readily give account thereof.

When all is said, the significant fact remaining is--that at this end of the history of an art some two thousand years old we find most recently in popular favour not English ballet as it was in the sixteenth-century days of the essentially English Masque; not French as it was in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; not Italian, as it was in the ’forties of last century; nor English as we have seen it, at its best, at the Empire and Alhambra in the past quarter of a century; but the Russian ballet! the balance of the arts; which the Russians have only been able to do _by sheer technical efficiency_--quite apart from ideas or ideals expressed--in _all_ the arts of which ballet is composed, and which has enabled them to do exactly that which they have set out to do. That, perhaps, is the one thing that Russian ballet has shown us, which is of the greatest value and significance for any lovers of the art in any capital of the world.

_E. O. Hoppé_

Mme. Karsavina and M. Adolf Bolm in “L’Oiseau de Feu”]

One may ask, however, what is the position of England in regard not only to ballet, but to the other arts? We have State, and County Council Art and Craft schools; we have the Royal Academy of Music, the Royal College, the Guildhall School, and numerous private schools and “academies” where music and the dramatic arts are taught; all admirable as far as they go. We have, as yet, no State-aided theatre and no State-aided opera-house, to which, as on the Continent, an academy for the study of the dance and ballet is attached. Is it not strange that the richest city in the world should be deficient in these things?

It may be that there is greater vitality in the arts when they are pursued only under the conditions of competitive, private enterprise; but it is curious that in practically every other country the dramatic arts have been fostered by the State, and that we in this country seem ever to show a greater welcome to foreign singers and dancers than we do to our own.

There is, of course, always a great danger that an institution, secure in the support it receives from the State, may become conventional; the spirit of its art may grow arid and unprofitable, but at least it ensures a standard of technical efficiency, and, if there be a vital spirit in the nation, that spirit will show itself in the work of such an institution. Russia has proved all this.

Given a National Opera-House, to which were attached a Royal Academy of Dancing, what might the future of Ballet be in this country?

The answer depends mainly, one feels, on the extent of the possibilities to which the art of Ballet could be realised by those who lead in the artistic expression of the national spirit. The poet, the artist, the musician, the Master of Dance, and the dancers--men and women--realising the possibilities of the composite art of Ballet, might foreshadow possibilities greater than any we have seen. Yet greater possibilities might be foreshadowed of one who was all these things; and could combine (as Mr. Gordon Craig would have the master of the Art of the Theatre combine) _all_ the arts of the theatre.

It would seem that now and then, through lack of technical efficiency in one or other of the arts which go to the making of ballet, that ballet itself has not always attained its highest possible level in England.

But without that basic technical efficiency in the living material which he manipulates, how can the creator of the ballet express himself? A standard of technique at least should exist. That given, what might not yet be done with this art, which history shows has always been so plastic in the hands of the master-artist, so responsive to the artistic or national moods of the people among whom it has been found.

It has the value and significance of painting, together with the vital and impressive effect of drama. It is not the art of depicting reality; but the art of pictorial suggestion, giving life and form to poetic ideas.

At the Royal or Ducal Courts of earlier days the compliment to monarch or to minister would be conveyed by means of a courtly ballet, the story of which dealt outwardly perhaps only with the doings of some mythic hero of the classic past. But the art of Ballet always had greater possibilities than courtly compliment, in that it is always a plastic vehicle for the expression of all ideas; and, given the standard of efficiency which makes production possible at all, it only becomes a question of what theme shall be treated by this means rather than by the arts of painting, or of music, or drama, or of literature.

On these two points--the standard of technical efficiency attained by those associated in the production of ballet, and on the choice of theme and manner of treatment by the artist-mind ultimately responsible for the production, depends the whole future of the art of Ballet. The spirit of the artist and his means of expression; there lies the future.

What shall be the technique of ballet, and to what extent shall it be influenced by that of the dance?

To-day, the forms of dancing are various, but there are three main divisions: first, all popular forms of “step,” or, to adopt an old and useful term, “toe-and-heel” dancing; secondly, the traditional “toe”-dancing of classic ballet, capable of every _nuance_ of expression; and thirdly, the various forms of rhythmic movement and effects of poise, which seem to approach nearly to the ancient Hellenic ideal of the Dance, and of which Miss Isadora Duncan was perhaps the first exponent in England, as Mrs. Roger Watts is the latest; while yet another phase of the same ideal is seen in the Eurhythmic system of Jacques Dalcroze, which has had, and will have, great influence in many directions.

We have seen on the London stage ballets in which the dancing was almost wholly “step”-dancing, toe-and-heel--such as “On the Heath,” at the Alhambra; we have seen numberless ballets in which the traditional “toe”-dancing was paramount, from “Coppélia” to “Roberto il Diavolo,” or the later productions of the Russians; we have not yet seen a ballet composed entirely, or even mainly on the lines of the Hellenic revival, though we have had hints of it in concerted dances by pupils of Miss Duncan and others, and the complete thing may yet come, though, personally, I question the advisability. We have already had some curious, interesting, and not quite illogical attempts to suggest scenic effect by means of living people performing appropriate and rhythmic movements, as in the production of Mr. Reginald Buckley’s poetic drama “King Arthur.”

In one or other of these three divisions of the dance and the respective technical advance in each, lie the chief means of artistic expression for the master of ballet in the future, and it may be that the traditional “ballet”-dancing, with its marvellous flexibility of expression, will, so long as the present standard of technique is sustained, always maintain its supremacy over the purely popular forms of dancing, and the newer modes of rhythmic movement and gesture. It has at least stood the test of time, as a definite and logical medium of artistic expression.

As to the master-mind that is to select one or other of these forms of the Dance, and combine it with miming, music and scenic effect to achieve a ballet that shall be the medium of ideas, worthy to range as a work of art alongside the tried masterpieces of painting, music, drama or literature, it may be questioned if we shall see anything worthier than the past has given us at its best. Some new Noverre or Blasis, Wilhelm or Fokine may yet arise, of course; but until such a one come forth we may be well content with the standard which the Past has managed to achieve.

To that standard this volume is a willing tribute; a faithful record, which may have novelty for some, unaware of days before their time; while for others, whose memory of more recent--but yet receding!--events, grows dim, it may come as a friendly reminder of pleasant hours spent, by writer and by reader, in contemplating from the auditorium the varied examples seen at London theatres of the protean Art of Ballet.

THE END

INDEX

Adam, Adolphe, composer, 236, 277

Addison, Joseph, 142-147

Ænea, dancer, 259, 279

Æschylus, 25, 37

Agoust, Louise, dancer, 264

Aguzzi, Mlle., dancer, 276

Albert, Ferdinand, dancer, 209

Albert, Paul, dancer, 209

Albertieri, Luigi, dancer, 279, 280

Albery, James, dramatist, 257

Alembert, Jean le Rond d’, 171

Alençon, Emilienne d’, dancer, 266

Alexander, Appius, 85

Alhambra, 249, 252-275, 308

Alias, M. et Mme., costumiers, 257, 259, 260, 264, 265, 271-273, 276

Allan, Maud, dancer, 274, 310

Allard, Marie, actress and dancer, 168, 203

Allemande (Almain) dance, 68, 74, 115;
by Robert Johnson, 317

Almonti, brothers, dancers, 262, 263, 265

Anderson, Percy, designer of costumes, 279

André, dancer, 109

Angiolini, pupil of Noverre, 213

Anka, Cornélie d’, singer, 255, 257

Arbeau, Thoinot, author of _Orchésographie_, 1588, 60-70, 110,
145

Arlequin. _See_ Harlequin

Arnould, Sophie, dancer, 179, 180

Arundale, Grace, dancer, 265

Arundale, Sybil, dancer, 265

_Atellanæ_, 43

Athenæus, quoted, 23

Auber, D. F. E., composer, 253

Audran, engraver, 132, 134

Augier, Anne Catherine, married Auguste Vestris, 169, 170

Austin, Esther, dancer, 253

Baif, author, 51

Bakst, Leon, ballet producer, 321

Ballard, French printer, 139

Ballet Comique de la Royne, 56-60, 70-73

Ballet-ambulatoire, 83, 87
Beatification of Ignatius Loyola, 83
Canonisation of S. Charles Boromée, 85

Ballet in England from early 18th century, largely imported from
France and Italy, 182
new spirit infused in first half of 19th century, 208
of small artistic value from 1850-1870, 250
revival as London institution at Alhambra and Empire, 251, 308
all British ballet, 316
no State-aided training, 322
Heroic;
eighty given in France from 1589-1610, 88
Pantomime, 114
Russian, 308, 321;
given first at Coliseum, 313;
at Covent Garden, 318;
at Drury Lane, 318;
dancers from the Mariensky, Petrograd, and from Opera House,
Moscow, 318
Savoy, Court of, 89-91

Ballets:
Acis and Galatea, 208
Aladdin, 261
Veil of Diamonds, 261
Alaska, 285
Alchemists, of, 96
Alcibiade, 101
Algeria, 260
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, 264
All the Year Round, 269
Alma, 241
Amour, Malade l’, 101
Amour Vengé, l’, 208
Amours Déguisés, les, 101
Antiope, 260
Asmodeus, 260
Astrea, 260
Automne Bacchanale, l’, 217, 311
Babil et Bijou, 259
Bacchus et Ariane, 152
Baigneuse, la, 308
Bayadères, les, 225
Beatrix, 238
Beauties of the Harem, 254
Beauty and the Beast, 264
Belle au Bois Dormant, 226
Belle of the Ball, 292, 294, 295
Bivouac, the, 260
Bluebeard, 264
Britannia’s Realm, 267
Pas des Patineurs, 267
Bugle Call, the, 289
By the Sea, 281
Cadmus, 111
Caractères de la Danse, 157, 180
Camargo, 316
Carmen, 258, 268, 275
Carnaval (Schumann), 320, 321
Carnaval de Venise, le, 225, 244, 258
Cassandra, 99
Castor and Pollux, 217
Cécile, 280
Chercheuse d’Esprit, la, 181, 185
Chicago, 262
Chinois, 171
Cinderella, 289
Cinq Seul, le, 244
Cinquantaine, 169
Cleopatra, 280
Cleopatra (Glazounov), 320, 321
Cloches de Corneville, les, 273
Colour of Life, the (dance-_scena_), 315
Coppélia, 277
Coppélia (Delibes), 290, 295, 296, 298, 325
Coq d’Or, le, 321
Cupid, 260
Cupid in Arcadia (Comic), 254
Dance Dream, the, 275
Dancing Doll, the, 289
Dancing Master, the, 301
Danse, la, 282, 316
Day in Paris, 298, 299
Day Off, a, 265
Débutante, the, 291, 296, 301
Débutante, the, new edition, 305
Demon’s Bride, the, 254
Devil’s Forge, the, 267
Diable au Violon, le, 243
Diana, 279
Dieu Bleu, le, 319
Dilara, 279
Don Juan, 217
Don Quixote, 262
Dream of Wealth, 280
Dryad, the, 296-298
Duel in the Snow, 280
Enchantment, 260
Endymion, 169
Entente Cordiale, the, 270
Eoline, 245
Europe, 306
Excelsior, 251
Fairies’ Home, the, 255
Fantaisie Chorégraphique, 301
Faun, the, 302
Faust, 282
Femina, 275
Fernando Cortez, 217, 225
Fête Galante, la, 290
Fêtes d’Adam, les, 182
Fêtes de Bacchus et de l’Amour, 104, 109, 111
Fêtes d’Hébé, les, 185
Fêtes de l’Hymen et de l’Amour, 181
Fêtes Vénitiennes, les (opera ballet), 138, 139
Fidelia (le Violon du Diable), 262
Filets de Vulcain, les, 227
Fille du Bandit, la, 245
Fille du Danube, la, 238
Fille de Marbre, la, 242
First Love, 304
Flora, 99
Flore et Zephire, 208, 226, 227
Gardes Françaises, les, 256
Gay City, the, 266
Gemma, 243
Giselle, 236, 238, 277
Gitana, la, 231
Golden Wreath, 257
Gretna Green, 266
Handy Man, the, 266
Happy Shipwreck, the, 208
Hertha, 244
Horoscope, the, 240
Hungary, 253
Hurly Burly, 277
Hvika, 250
Ideala, 260
Impatience, l’, 101
Inspiration, 266
Iphigénie en Aulide, 217
Irene, 260
Jack Ashore, 265
Japan, in, 266
Jugement de Pâris, le, 231, 245
Pas des Déesses, 246
Lac des Fées, 241
Laura and Lenze, 208
Lydie, 226
Médée et Jason, 201
Melusine, 260
Memnon, 259
Milliner Duchess, the, 288, 296
Mirza, 185
Monte Cristo, 282
Mountain Sylph, 254
Mystères d’Isis, les, 217
Nadia, 260
Napoli, 266
Narcisse, 321
Nations, Les, Parisian Quadrille, 253
New York, 303
Nina the Enchantress, 260
Ninette à la Cour, 185
Nisita, 281
Old China, 287
Ondine, 241, 242
On the Square, 274
Or, Le Coq d’, 322
Orfeo, 281
Oriella, 261
Our Army and Navy, 260
Our Crown, 287
Palace of Pearl, 277
Papillons, les, 286
Paquita (Grisi), 239
Paquita (Alhambra), 274
Paris Exhibition, 280
Parisiana, 271
Peri, the, 237, 238
Perseus, 111
Plaisirs, les, 101
Polly, 277
Premier, Navigateur, le, 185, 186
Press, the, 284
Printemps, Le Sacre du, 322
Psyche (1787), 202
Psyche (Alhambra), 275
Puella, 254
Pygmalion, 152
Queen of Spades, 271, 272
Raillerie, la, 101
Reaper’s Dream, the, 304
Réception d’une jeune nymphe à la cour de Terpsichore, 225
Red Shoes, the, 265
Rip van Winkle, 264
Roberto il Diavolo, 300, 325
Robert Macaire, 280
Rose d’Amour, 279
Rose de Séville, 250
Rosière, la, 185
Round the Town, 281
Round the Town Again, 286
Round the World, 300
Sacre du Printemps, le, 320
Salandra, 260
Sal! Oh My! 274
Sappho and Phaon, 208
Scheherazade, 316
Seaside, 286
Seasons, the, 260
Ship Ahoy! 302
Sicilien, le, 225
Sioux, the (comic), 261
Sir Roger de Coverley, 292
Sleeping Beauty, 261
Soldiers of the Queen, 266
Spectresheim, 254
Spectre de la Rose, le, 321
Sports of England, 279
Swans, the, 260
Sylph of the Glen, 254
Sylphide, 224, 227, 228, 236, 238, 241, 244, 296, 315
Sylphides, les, 320, 321
Sylvia, 277, 303
Télémaque, 202
Temps, le, 101
Temps de la Paix, le 112
Temptation, 261
Titania, 304
Tobacco, of (1650), 97
Tribulations d’un Maître de Ballet, 231
Triomphe de l’Amour, 111
Triumph of Bacchus, 101
Triumph of Venus, 100
Two Flags, the, 273
Two Gregorys, the, 254
Under One Flag, 282
Versailles, 281, 316
Vestale, la, 217, 225
Victoria and Merrie England, 264
Village Festival, 260
Vincennes, 101
Vineland, 288
Vine, The, 306
Vivandière, la, 243
Water Nymph, the, 304
Wildfire, 256
Yolande, 225
Zanetta, 260
Zephyre, 203

Ballon, M., dancer, 106, 110, 115, 123

Baltasarini. _See_ Beaujoyeux

Banquet-ball, 53-55, 71

Baron, author, 61

Basse-dance, 63-66

Bathyllus, Roman actor, 44-46, 114, 119

Baudiery-Laval, maître de ballet, 106, 110

Baudiery-Laval, Michel-Jean, dancer, 106, 110

Baum, John, manager Alhambra, 254

Beauchamps, dancer, 62, 106, 109-111, 164

Beaujoyeux (Baltasarini), designer of Ballet Comique de la Reine,
1581, 56-60, 70-73, 82

Beaumont, Francis, dramatist, 74

Beaupré, Mlle., dancer, 203

Bedells, Phyllis, dancer, 292, 299-305, 306

Belloni, actor, famed as Pierrot, 133

Beni Hassan, 29, 31

Benserade, arranged ballet of “Cassandra” in which Louis XIV
appeared, 99

Benson, F. R., 313

Bensusan, S. L., adapted ballet from his novel, _Dede_, 266

Berein, Francis, theatrical mechanician, 111

Berend, Rosa, actress, 259

Bergonzio di Botta, arranged the Banquet-ball, 1489, 52-56, 71, 82

Bertin, Antoine, author, 139

Bertrand, A., ballet master, 255-258, 276

Bessone, Mlle., dancer, 260

Bianchini, designer, 276

Biancolelli, Pierre-François (Domenique), actor, famed as Arlequin,
133, 134

Bias, Fanny, dancer, 203

Bigottini, Mlle., dancer, 203, 204

Bishop, Will, dancer, 282, 286

Blande, Edith, actress, 259

Blasis, Carlo, actor, dancer, writer, and Director of Imperial
Academy of Dancing and Pantomime at Milan, 23, 24, 148,
213-220, 222, 272, 319, 320

Blasis, Francesco, 214

Blasis, Teresa, sister of Carlo, 218

Blasis, Vincenza Coluzzi Zurla, 214

Blasis, Virginia, sister of Carlo, prima donna, 218

Blaze, Castil, writer on Paris Opera, 72, 111, 172;
quoted, 228

Blondi, dancer, 106, 110, 158

Boileau, Nicolas, Sieur Despréaux, 196, 200

Bolm, Adolphe, dancer, 296, 299, 301

Bonnet, author, 61

Bordin, Maria, dancer, 272, 273

Bouffon, dance, 63, 74

Bourgeois, composer, 113

Bourrée, dance, 318

Brancher, Mlle., dancer, 203

Branle (bransle) dance, 63, 64, 68, 69

Bright, Dora, composer, 296, 302, 315, 317

Brissac, Duc de, 56

Britta, Mlle., dancer, 274, 275

Brocard, Mlle., dancer, 209, 228

Broughton, Phyllis, dancer and actress, 249, 295

Browne, William, poet, 74

Brutton, W. M., architect, 271

Buckley, Reginald, 325

Bunn, manager Drury Lane, 238

Byng, G. W., musical director Alhambra, 265-268, 272-274

Cachucha, dance, 212

Calthrop, Dion Clayton, 275

Calverley, C. S., translation quoted, 34

Camargo, Marie-Anne de Cupis de, dancer, 115-117, 156-162, 223

Cambert, musician, 104, 113

Campion, Thomas, poet and musician, 74

Campra, composer, 113, 128, 138, 305

Canaries (Canary), dance, 69, 74

Canova, sculptor, 216

Canterbury Music Hall, 249

Captain, The, conventional character of 18th century Italian comedy,
121, 122

Caroso, author, 62

Carr, Osmond, Dr., 292

Carville, Mlle., dancer, 106

Casaboni, Josephine, dancer, 264-266

Casati, M., ballet master, 260

Cavallazi, Malvina, Mme., dancer, 258, 280, 281, 282, 285

Cave, Joseph A., manager Alhambra 254

Cecchetti, M., dancer, 279, 281

Celerier, director of Opera, 191

Cerito, Fanny, dancer, 223, 229, 231, 240-243, 245-247, 278

Cerri, Cecilia, dancer, 264, 265

Chaconne, dance, 71, 115, 166, 317

Chambers, Emma, actress, 255, 258, 259

Chameroy, Mlle., dancer, 203

Chaplin, Nellie, reviver of ancient music and dances, 318

Chapman, George, dramatist, 74

Chevigny, Mlle., dancer, 202, 203

Choiseul, de, Archbishop of Cambrai, 183

Choiseul, Maréchal de, 106

Cibber, Colley, quoted, 17

Cinthio, character in French pantomime, 126

Clarke, Cuthbert, composer, 298, 302

Cleather, Gordon, singer, 297

Clerc, Elise, dancer and ballet producer, 274, 289

Clermont, College of, ballets at, 93

Clotilde, Mlle., dancer, 203

Clown, 121, 123

Cochin, C. N., engraver, 131

Coffin, Hayden, actor, 277

Coliseum, 313

Collette, Charles, actor, 258

Collier, Beatrice, dancer, 299, 303

Collins, Lottie, dancer, 309

Colonna, Mlle., dancer, 253

Columbine, conventional character of 18th century Italian comedy,
122, 123, 126

Comedie Ballet, 73

Comelli, designer of costume, 271-273

Constantini, Angelo, actor, famous impersonator of Mezzetin, 134

Contredanse, 115

Cook, Aynsley, actor, 257, 258

Cook, Furneaux, actor, 258

Coppi, Carlo, ballet producer, 24, 261, 264, 266, 267

Cormani, Mme., dances arranged by, 260, 266, 267

Cormani, Miss, dancer, 271

Corneille, Pierre, author, 115, 123

Costa, Mario, composer, 272

Coulon, Mlle., dancer, 203

Coulon, M., dancer, 225

Courante (Coranto) dance, 63, 67, 68, 81, 115, 317

Covent Garden Theatre, 152, 295, 308

Cracovienne, dance, 212

Craig, Gordon, 315, 324

Craske, Dorothy, dancer, 289, 290

Crozat, patron of Watteau, 132, 138

Crystal Palace, 249

Curti, Alfredo, ballet master, 24, 271, 272, 273, 275

Dalcroze, Jacques, 325

Dallas, John J., actor, 257

Dance, older than drama, 26
early instinct of mankind, 27
ritual of, in Egypt, 28
sacred, secular, theatrical, 28, 40
in Greece, 31-40
in Greek drama: _Emmeleia_, _Hyporchemata_,
_Kordax_, _Sikinnis_, 37, 63
Pyrrhic, 38
in honour of Jupiter, of Minerva, of Apollo, of Innocence to
Diana, of Delos to Venus, 38
in Eleusinian mysteries, 39
Collar, 39
individualistic, 39

Dancing, value of personality in, 283

Daniel, Samuel, poet, 74

Dauberval, dancer, 166, 180, 202, 203, 216

Dauberval, Mme. (_née_ Mlle. Theodore), dancer, 203

Davenant, Sir William, 304

David, G. Mlle., dancer, 257

David, Jacques Louis, painter, 182

Davies, Sir John, author of _Orchestra, or a Poeme on
Dauncing_, 67

Dekker, Thomas, dramatist, 74

Delaborde, financier, 183

Delaplace, actor, played Scaramouche, 134

de la Roque, Antoine, 138;
librettist of “Médée et Jason,” 138

Delibes, composer, 277, 290, 298, 303

Dervieux, Mlle., dancer, 185

Desaix, M., dancer, 106

Deshayes, M., dancer and producer of ballet, 203, 208, 241

Desmarets, composer, 113

Desmares, Mlle., Danish actress, 135

Desmatins, Mlle., dancer, 111

Desnos, Bishop of Verdun, 183

Despréaux, Jean, dancer and poet, 190-201

Destouches, composer, 113, 317

Didelot, M., ballet master, 203, 208, 226

Diderot, Denis, encyclopædist, 171

Doctor, The, conventional character of 18th-century Italian comedy,
121, 122, 126, 134

Dolaro, Selina, actress and dancer, 256

Dolivet, M., dancer, 111

Dorat, poet, 171, 185

Dorival, Mlle., dancer, 187

Dowsett, Vernon, stage manager Alhambra, 260

Drama, early, 25-29

Drury Lane Theatre, 142, 237, 295, 308

Dryden, Alexander, 304

Dumoulin, M., dancer, 116, 158

Duncan, Isadora, 153, 310, 313, 314, 325

Duport, M., dancer, 203

Dupré, Louis Pierre, dancer, 110, 116, 164, 203

Duverney, Pauline, dancer, 209, 210, 292

Edelinck, engraver, 134

Edwardes, George, theatre manager, 277, 281, 284

Egville, d’, M., producer of ballet, 208

Elia, Mlle., dancer, 261

Elliots, the, family of dancers, 254

Elssler, Fanny, dancer, 210-212, 248, 278, 292

Elssler, Thérèse, sister of above, dancer, 210-212

Emmanuel, _La Danse Grecque_, 35

Empire Theatre, 252, 276, 294-308
closed, October 27 to November 2, 1893, by County Council, 282

Espinosa, ballet producer, 249

Espinosa, Edouard, dancer, actor and producer, 305

Espinosa, Judith, dancer, 266

Eularia, character in French pantomime, 126

Euripides, 25

Fabbri, dancer, 249

Fairs, Theatres of the, 109, 128-130, 132, 133
St. Germain, February to Easter, 128, 133
St. Laurent, June to October, 128, 133, 140, 150

Falcon, Mme., singer, 244

Fandango, dance, 212

Farinis, the, gymnasts, 253

Farnie, H. B., librettist, 256, 258, 276

Farren, Fred, dancer, actor and producer, 266, 289, 290, 299-304,
306

Faustin, designer of costumes, 258, 276

Favart, Mme., dancer, 181

Favier, M., dancer, 109

Fedorova, Sophie, dancer, 320

Fernon, Mlle., dancer, 111

Ferrabosco, Alfonso, composer, 76

Ferraris, Amalia, dancer, 249

Ferté, de la, M., Director de l’Académie, 187, 188

Feuillet, ballet master, 62, 106

Fleming, Noel, actor, 300

Fletcher, John, dramatist, 74

Fokine, Michel, ballet producer, 24, 322, 326

Fontanes, President of the French Legislative Chamber, 204

Ford, A. G., stage manager Alhambra, 262

Ford, Bert, dancer, 301

Ford, Ernest, composer, 282

Foucarts, the, gymnasts, 253

Fouquet, Comptroller of Finances, 99

Fragonard, 125, 181, 290

Francine, a director of Royal Academy of Dance and Music, Paris, 157

Francoeur, director of Opera, 19

Fuller, Loie, dancer, 312

Fuseli, Henry, painter, 214

Gaillarde (_cinq-pas_), dance, 63, 66, 81, 317

Galeazzo, Duke of Milan, 53, 54

Gallini, director of Opera in London, 187, 188

Ganne, Louis, composer, 266

Gantenberg, Edvige, dancer, 286

Gardel, Maximilien, maître de ballet, 23, 172, 181, 217, 320

Gardel, Pierre, brother of above, 201, 202

Garrick, David, 165, 171, 214, 308

Gascoigne, George, poet and dramatist, 74

Gautier, Théophile, 24, quoted 227, 236, quoted 237, 243

Gavotte, 63, 69, 161, 317

Geltzer, Catrina, dancer, 275

Génée, Adeline, 119, 220;
début in London, 283, 284-298, 300, 316

Génée, Alexandre, uncle to Adeline, 284, 300

Gersaint, correspondent of Watteau, 138

Gherardi, Evariste, quoted, 122

Gigue, dance, 115, 317

Giles, Thomas, dance-master, 76, 81

Gillert, Mlle. T. de, mime, 255-259

Gilles. _See_ Pierrot

Gillot, Claude, engraver, 126, 127, 137

Gilmer, Albert A., manager Alhambra, 262

Giuri, Mlle., dancer, 280

Glazounov, composer, 318

Glover, James W., composer, 271

Gluck, Christoph, composer, 172, 201

Goncourt, Edmond, 179, 187, 196

Goncourts, de, 138

Gorsky, Alexander A., ballet producer, 275

Gosselin, Mlle., dancer, “the boneless,” 203, 217

Grahn, Lucile, dancer, 223, 229, 231, 244-248

Granville, Violet, actress, 258

Gregory, Nazianzen, quoted, 49

Grétry, composer, 201

Greville, Eva, dancer, 250

Grey, Miss Lennox, singer and actress, 256

Grey, Sylvia, dancer, 251, 295

Grigolati troupe, 263

Grimaldi, 42

Grisi, Carlotta, 119, 164, 223, 229, 231, 235-239

Grisi, Giuditta, singer, cousin of Carlotta, 235

Grisi, Giulia, singer, cousin of Carlotta, 235

Gueméné, Prince de, 186

Guerrero, Mme., dancer, 268

Guimard, Madeleine, dancer, “le squelette des Grâces,” 179-195, 199,
201, 202, 233

Haggard, Sir Rider, ballet founded on his _Cleopatra_, 280

Hahn, Reynaldo, composer, 320

Hall, Edward, chronicler, 72

Hamoche, actor, famed as Pierrot, 133

Handel, George F., composed “Terpsichore” for Mlle. Sallé, 153

Hardouin, dancer, 112

Harlequin, 122, 123, 126, 133

Harlequinade, 41, 123

Harris, Sir Augustus, theatre manager, 277

Hastings, Charles, quoted, 43

Hawthorne, Ethel, dancer, 264

Haymarket Theatre (King’s), 151, 218

Heberlé, Mlle., dancer, 235

Heinel, Mme., dancer, wife of Gaetan Vestris, 168, 187

Henley, W. H., poet, 316

Henry, M., dancer, 203

Hermitage, the, Petrograd, 135

Herne, Hieronimus, dance master, 76

Herodotus, 30

Hersee, H., 276

Hertford House, 133, 135-137, 161

Hervé, composer, 276, 279, 280

Hilligsberg, Mme., 208

Hippodrome, 311

Hitchins, H. J., manager Empire, 276, 277, 298

Hofschuller, Fräulein, dancer, 276

Holland, William, manager Alhambra, 259

Hollingshead, John, 252, 253, 261, 276

Hooten, Miss, dancer, 262, 263

Howell, James, business manager Alhambra, 265

Hylas, roman actor, 45, 46

Iliad, quotation from Book xviii, 32

Isabella of Aragon, 53, 54

Isabelle, conventional character of 18th-century Italian comedy,
122, 126

Italian comedians in Paris, 125, 129, 137
early troupe in 1576, _Gli Gelosi_, 126
Fiorelli’s Royal troupe, Palais Royal, 126
banished from France, 1679-1716, 127
at Theatres of the Fairs, 128, 129
troupes of Mme. Jeanne Godefroy, Von der Beck, of Christopher
Selles, of Louis Nivelon, of St. Edmé, of Constantini
(known as Octave), 129, 133, 134

Jacobi, G., composer, 255, 257, 258, 260, 261, 263, 264

Jarente, de, Bishop of Orleans, 183

Johnson, Robert, composer, 318

Jones, Inigo, 76

Jones, Sidney, composer, 289

Jonson, Ben, 74, 81, 82

Josset, Mlle. M. A., dancer, 256

Joukoff, Leonid, dancer, 305

Joyeuse, Duc de, 56

Julian the Apostate, 49

Julie, Mlle., dancer, 259

Jullienne collection of engravings after Watteau, 125, 126, 131, 135

Justinian, Emperor, 48

Karina, Mme., dancer, 315

Karsavina, Mme., 119, 220, 315, 320

“King Arthur,” poetic drama, 324

Kiralfy, Imre, 253

Kiralfy, Bolossy, 253

Kiralfy, Aniola, 253

Kosloff, M., ballet producer, 316

Kyasht, Lydia, dancer, 296, 298-305, 314

Laborie, M., dancer, 203

La Bruyère, quoted, 105-106, 109

Lafontaine, Mlle., dancer, 111

La Malaguenita, dancer, 275

Lancret, Nicholas, painter, Louis XIV., 112, 125, 154, 156, 161, 290

Lanner, Katti, Mme., maîtresse de ballet, 24, 226, 250, 259,
278-282, 308
her National School of Dancing, 278

Lanner, Joseph, waltz composer, 278

Lany, M., dancer, 203

Lapierre, dancer, 109

Laporte, 208

La Salmoiraghi, dancer, 262

Lau, Comtesse de, 189

Lauri family, dancers, 254, 261

Laverne, Pattie, singer, 256

Lawton, Frank, whistler, 274, 286

Leandre, conventional character of 18th-century Italian comedy, 122

Le Basque, dancer, 106

Le Breton, Mlle., dancer, 106

Lecocq, composer, 258

Ledoux, architect, 182

Lee, Miss Rose, actress, 257

Le Fré, Albert, dancer, 265

Legallois, Mlle., dancer, 217

Legnani, Mlle., dancer, 260, 262

Leigh, Henry S., dramatist, 257, 258

Leoffeler, Miss L., dance-mistress and producer, 317

Lenoir, architect, 202

Léo, composer, 277

Leon, Virginia, dancer, 217

Leonora, La Belle, dancer, 274, 275

Leotard, gymnast, 252, 253

Le Peintre, Mlle., dancer, 111

Lepicq, M., dancer, 203

Leroux, Pauline, dancer, 210, 228, 292

Le Sage, Alain, 150

Leslie, Fanny, actress, 259

Leslie, Fred, actor, 258, 259

L’Etang, M., dancer, 111

Lethbridge, Alice, dancer, 251, 295

_Lettres sur la Danse, et sur les Ballets_, by Noverre,
published 1760, English translation 1786, 173;
quoted, 174-178

Levey, Florence, dancer, 250

Ligne, Prince and Princesse de, 157

Lincoln’s Inn Fields Theatre, (Duke’s), 123, 142, 150, 151, 304

Lind, Jenny, singer, 248

Lind, Letty, dancer, 251, 295

Locke, John, author, 114

Longhi, Giuseppe, engraver, 216

Longus, vintage dance in his novel _Daphnis and Chloe_, 37

Loseby, Constance, actress, 258, 259

Lovati, Mlle., dancer, 264

Love, Mabel, dancer, 295

Lucian, quoted, 23, 34, 39, 147

Lulli, Jean-Baptiste, composer, 104, 110, 113, 128, 138, 305

Lumley, manager of the Opera (Her Majesty’s), 223, 308

Luna, Mlle., dancer, 277

Lutz, Meyer, musician, 282

Lycurgus, 38

McCleery, R. C., scenic artist, 307

Maccus, prototype of Punch, 43, 121

Machiavelli, 215

Madrolle, French publicist, 214

Maine, Duchesse du, 114, 115, 122

Majiltons, acrobatic dancers, 254

Malibran, Maria, singer, 235

Malter, the brothers, dancers, 203

“Maneros,” 30

Manzotti, ballet producer, 24, 251

Mapleson, manager Covent Garden, 250

Marguerite of Lorraine, 56

Maria la Belle, Mlle., dancer, 271

Marie, Mlle., dancer, 262

Marie Antoinette, Queen, 173, 316

Marinette, character in French pantomime, 126

Marius, M., actor, 277

Marmontel, Jean François, writer, 184

Martell, F., Miss, dancer, 304

Martinetti, Paul, ballet producer, 280

Marvin, Fred, actor, 259

Mask first discarded by Gaetan Vestris in dancing, 167

Masque, 60, 72, 73, 82, 87
list of notable, 1585-1609, 74
Elizabethan, 308

Matachin, dance, 63

Mathews, Julia, actress, 254

Matthews, Miss, dancer, 259, 260

Maupin, Mlle. de, dancer, 112

Mauri, Rosita, dancer, 249

May, Miss Alice, actress, 258

May, Jane, Mlle., 119, 271

Mazurka, dance, 212

Melville, Mlle., dancer, 255

Menestrier, Abbé, quoted, 21, 22, 23, 81, 83

Méry, poet, 227

Meursius, 40

Mezzetin, conventional character of 18th-century Italian comedy,
122, 126, 134

Miller, Mlle., dancer, later Mme. Pierre de Gardel, 202, 203

Minuet, 317;
Lady Elizabeth Spencer’s, 318

Molière, Jean Baptiste, 73, 104, 121, 126

Monkhouse, Harry, actor, 259

Monteclair, composer, 113, 139, 305

Montessu, Mme. (_née_ Albert), dancer, 209

Moore, Marshall, producer, 317

Mordkin, dancer, 164, 217, 310, 311

More, Unity, dancer, 301, 303, 305

Moreau, Junior, engraver, 197

Morino, Mlle., dancer, 272-274

Morisque dance (Morris), 69, 74

Morton, Charles, theatrical manager, 256, 259, 260

Mossetti, Carlotta, dancer, 274, 275, 302, 306

Motteaux, translator of Don Quixote, 144

Moul, Alfred, manager Alhambra, 263-265, 267, 271, 273, 275

Mouret, composer, 113, 115, 123, 305;
bourrée by, 318

Muller, Rosa, dancer, 259

Muller, Marie, dancer, 259

Musetto, dance, 166

Mystery plays, 30

Napoleon and Bigottini, 204

Netscher, Theodore, painter, 134

Newnham-Davis, Lieut.-Col., 298, 300, 303

Nijinsky, dancer and ballet producer, 320

Ninon de l’Enclos, 106, 190

Nivelon, dancer and mime, 113, 123

Noblet, Alexandrine, dancer, 209

Noblet, Lise, dancer, 209, 210

Nodier, Charles, author, 228

Nourrit, Adolphe, writer, 228

Noverre, Jean Georges, ballet master and writer on the dance, 23, 24;
quoted 115, 148, 152, 165, 166, 168, 171-178, 181, 201, 203, 213,
222, 272, 320

Nuittier, maître de ballet, 24

Octave, 126

Octavie, conventional character of eighteenth-century Italian comedy,
122

Offenbach, Jacques, composer, 254, 257, 258, 259, 288

Opera--National. _See_ Royal Academy of Dance and Music

Operas (opera-bouffe, etc.):
Belle Hélène, la, 254
Billee Taylor, 277
Callirhoé, 138
Chilperic (musical spectacle), 276
Créüse l’Athénienne, 138
Don Juan, 254
Fatinitza (comic), 257
Faust-Up-to-Date (comic), 250
Favorita, la, 236
Fille de Mme. Angot, 256
Fille du Tambour-Major, 259
Fledermaus, die, 255
Geneviève de Brabant, 257
Grand Duchess, 257, 292
Lady of the Locket (extravaganza), 277
Muette di Portici, la, 209, 244
Orphée aux Enfers, 255
Petite Mademoiselle, la, 258
Poule aux Œufs d’Or, la, 258
Princesse de Carisme, 150
Princesse de Trebizonde, 258
Roi Carotte, le, 254
Whittington, 254
Zingaro, le, 236

“Palace Girls,” 311

Palace Theatre, 309

Palladium Theatre, 310

Palladino, Emma, dancer, 259, 260, 279, 281

Panorama of Balaclava, 276

Pantaloon (Pantalon), 121-123, 126

Pantin, 181, 182

Pantomime, English, 123
French, 121, 125
Italian, 121, 122, 124
Roman, 41-46, 119, 120

Pantomimes:
Arlequin, Emperor in the Moon, 122
Jason, 122
Man of Fortune, 122
Proteus, 122
Sorcerer, 123
Enfant Prodigue, l’, 43, 119, 253, 271
Cause of Woman, 122
Columbine, Advocate, 122
Divorce, 122
On the Roofs (pantomime ballet), 261
Rothomago (Fairy Spectacle), 258
Sculptor and the Poodle (musical), 261
Sumurun, 43, 314
Where’s the Police? 253

Pappus, forerunner of Pantaloon, 43, 121

Pascariel, character in French pantomime, 126

_Pas de Quatre_, 1845, 223, 229, 231, 239, 245

Passacaille, dance, 115, 166

Passani, Mlle., dancer, 256

Passepied, dance, 115-117, 166, 318

Pater, Jean Batiste, painter, 160, 290

Paul V, Pope, 85

Paulton, Harry, actor, 255, 256, 258, 259

Pavane, dance, 63, 64, 66, 317

Pavlova, Anna, dancer, 217, 310, 311, 314

Pécourt, dance master, 62, 106, 110, 111, 305

Pedrolino. _See_ Pierrot

Pérignon, Mme., dancer, 202, 203

Perregaux, banker, 187

Perrin, Abbé, 104

Perrot, dancer, husband of Carlotta Grisi, 231, 235, 246

Perrot, maître de ballet, 24, 242

Persiani, Mme., singer, 241

Pertoldi, Mlle., dancer, 255, 256, 257, 258, 259, 277

Peslin, Mlle., dancer, 187, 203

Petipa, dancer, 238, 249

Philips, Ambrose, poet and dramatist, 144

Phrynichus, 37

Picard, comic poet, 191

Piccinni, composer, 201

Pierrot (Pedrolino, also Gilles), 122, 123, 133

Pitteri, Mlle., dancer, 254

Pius IV, Pope, 85

Plato, 34

Plutarch, 37

Poisson, family of Parisian actors:
Raymond, 134
Paul, 134
François, 134

Pollini, Mlle., dancer, 261

“Pomp” Thyrennian, 85

Pomponette, Mlle., dancer, 273

Porpora, manager of Haymarket Theatre, 153

Porro, dancer, 262

Pratesi, M., ballet master, 265, 266

Prévôt, Mlle., dancer, 106, 115-118, 123, 157, 158

Price, Lilian, dancer, 250

Pugni, composer, 242

Punchinello, 122

Pylades, Roman actor, 44-46, 59, 114, 119

Quinault, 104, 113

Rameau, Jean Philippe, composer and writer on music, quoted, 115,
185, 305, 320

Ravelli, director of opera in London, 187, 188

Rebel, composer, 113

Reece, Robert, author, 256, 258

Reichstadt, Duc de, l’Aiglon, 211

René, King of Anjou, inaugurated procession of Fête Dieu, 51

Rheims College, ballet at, 91

Riccoboni, _Histoire du Théâtre Italien_, 130

Rich, Christopher, owner of Lincoln’s Inn Theatre, 150

Rich, John, son of above, 123, 142, 150, 151, 308

Richards, Mlle., dancer, 255

Rigaudon (Rigadoon) dance, 71, 161, 318

Righton, Edward, actor, 258

Rimsky-Korsakov, composer, 322

Rivani, theatrical mechanician, 111

Riviere, Jules, conductor, 253

Roffey, Mme., dancer, 260, 262, 263

Roland, Mlle., dancer, 111, 159

Ronald, Landon, composer, 267

Rosa, Mlle., dancer, 255

Rosati, Caroline, dancer, 249

Rosi, G., Signor, actor and dancer, 273, 274

Ross, Adrian, librettist, 292

Rosselli, actor, 259

Rossi, pupil of Noverre, 213

Rossi, Adèle, dancer, 279, 281

Rossi, ballet master, 266

Roy, M., eighteenth-century poet, 132, 138

Royal Academy of Dance and Music, Paris, 99, 102, 109, 112, 147,
152, 157, 165;
Imperial academy in 1807, 191;
Opera, 202;
Opera National, 202;
Théâtre des Arts, 202;
Théâtre de la République et des Arts, 202

Roze, Mlle., dancer, 202

Russell, Howard, costume designer, 262, 263, 264, 265

Ryan, T. E., scenic artist, 260, 261, 263, 264, 265, 272

Ryley, J. H., actor and singer, 256

Sacchini, Antonio, composer, 172, 201

Saharet, Mlle., dancer, 310

St. Cyr, Mimi, dancer, 309

St. Denis, Ruth, dancer, 313

St. Helier, Ivy, dancer, 305

St. John, Florence, actress, 277

St. Leon, musician and ballet master, husband of Fanny Cerito, 231,
242, 243, 246

Sallé, Marie, Mlle., dancer and mime, 115, 116, 123, 150-155,
158-160, 165, 172, 224, 282

Sallé, brother to above, 151

Sampietro, Mlle., dancer, 260

San Carlo Theatre, Naples, 219, 240

Sangalli, Rita, dancer, 249

Santini, Signor, dancer, 271-273, 286

Santley, Kate, actress and dancer, 254

Santori, Mlle., dancer, 279

Sarabande, dance, 71, 318;
by Destouches, 318

Saulnier, Mlle., dancer, 202

Savoy, Court of, ballets at, 89-91, 93-98

Scala, Flaminio, 121

Scala Theatre, London, 312

Scapin, conventional character of eighteenth-century Italian comedy,
122

Scaramouche, conventional character of eighteenth-century Italian
comedy, 122, 126, 134

Sceaux, pantomime at, 114

Schneitzhöffer, composer, 228

Schollar, Ludmilla, dancer, 320

Scott, George, manager Alhambra, 269

Scott, Sir Walter, 209, 210

Seale, Julia, Miss, dancer, 263, 264, 265, 266, 272, 274

Serpette, Gaston, composer, 259

Seymour, Katie, dancer, 281, 295

Sims, G. R., 309

Sinden, Bert, dancer, 281

Sinden, Topsy, dancer, 281, 294

Sirois, picture dealer, 132, 133

Sismondi, Mlle., dancer, 254, 255, 276

Skelley, Marjorie, dancer, 268

Slack, Edith, dancer, 266, 268, 271

Slater, C. Dundas, manager Alhambra, 265, 266, 267

Slaughter, Walter, composer, 261

Smith, Bruce, scenic artist, 262

Smith, E. T., director of Alhambra, 252

Smith, Miss Winifred, author of _Commedia dell’ Arte_, 124

Soldene, Emily, actress, 253, 258

Solomon, Edward, composer, 277

Sophocles, 25

_Sophonisbie_, 51

Sortis, de, Bettina, dancer, 279, 280

Soubise, Prince de, 181, 183, 184, 186, 187, 189

Sourdeac, Marquis de, director of ballet, 104

_Spectator, The_, 113, 142-147;
quoted, 144, 145

Staël, Mme. de (Mlle. Delaunay), 114

Stafford, Audrey, dancer, 266

State-aided Opera and Ballet, 104, 149, 322

Stedman, ballet producer, 317

Steele, Richard, writer, 142, 144, 145

Steps of dances recorded, 62, 65

Storey, Fred, actor, 262, 264

Stoyle, J. D. (Jimmy), actor, 257

Strange, Frederick, manager Alhambra, 253

Subligny, Mlle., dancer, 106, 112-115

Sullivan, Sir Arthur, composer, 264

Suppé, F. von, composer, 257

Tabourot, Jehan. _See_ Arbeau

Taglioni, Marie, 24, 119, 207-209, 222-234, 244-247, 282, 292, 293

Taglioni, Louise, aunt to Marie, 224

Taglioni, Louise, niece to Marie, 231, 246

Taglioni, Philip, ballet master, father of Marie, 224

Tambourin, dance, 161, 166

_Tatler, The_, quoted, 143

Taylor, Miss Daisy, dancer and actress, 273

Tcherepinin, ballet producer, 321

Telbin, scenic artist, 281

Telestes, actor, 37

Thackeray, W. M., 224, 296

Théâtre des Arts. _See_ Royal Academy of Dance and Music

Théâtre de la République et des Arts. _See_ Royal Academy of
Dance and Music

Thebes (Egypt), 29, 31

Theocritus, Idyll xviii, 33-34

Theodora, Empress, 48

Thespis, 25, 37, 87

Thévenard, dancer, 112

Thorwaldsen, sculptor, 216

Tissot, quoted, 215

_Togatæ_, 43

Tolstoy, 18

Training of dancers, Milan, 220;
Petrograd, 220, 299;
general, 221, 222

Tree, Sir H. Beerbohm, 295

Trenchmore, dance, 74

Tresca, 71

Trianon, Petit, 73

Valenciennes, 125, 132, 138

Vanloo, Charles André, painter, 160

Vaughan, Kate, dancer, 251, 277, 295

Vaux-le-Vicomte, Château, 100

Verity, Frank, architect, 289

Véron, manager of Paris opera, 211

Vesey, Clara, actress, 258

Vestris, Auguste Armand, son of Marie Auguste, 170

Vestris, Charles, nephew of Marie Auguste, 170

Vestris, Gaetan Appolino Baltazar, 164-169, 173, 207

Vestris, Marie Auguste, son of Gaetan and Marie Allard, 163, 164,
168-170, 180, 203, 207

Vicenti, de, M., dancer, 260

Victoria, Queen, dolls, 209, 228, 233, 246, 252

Vigarani, theatrical mechanician, 104, 111

Vincent, Ada, dancer, 281, 282

Vismes, de, Director of Opera, Paris, 169

Voisins, Gilbert, Comte de, married Marie Taglioni, 228

Vokes, W., dancer, 289

Volinin, Alexander, dancer, 67, 304

Volta, 63, 66

Voltaire, 153, 159, 167, 171, 174

Wallace Collection, Hertford House, 133, 135, 136, 137

Walse, la, 199

Warde, Willie, dancer, 282

Watteau, Antoine, 125-141, 290
Amour au Théâtre Français, l’, 131, 135, 138, 290
Amour au Théâtre Italien, 125, 130, 138
Amusements Champêtres (Chantilly), 135
Arlequin et Colombine (Hertford House), 133, 136
Arlequin Jaloux, 133
Assemblée dans un Parc (Berlin), 136
Bal sous une Colonnade (Dulwich), 135-137, 139, 291
Champs Elysées, les (Hertford House), 136
Charmes de la Vie, les (Hertford House), 135
Comédiens Italiens, 133
Concert, le (Hertford House), 135-137, 139
Danse, la (Potsdam), 135
Départ des Troupes, 132
Desmares, Mlle., 135
Embarquement pour l’Ile de Cythère, l’ (Louvre), 135, 136, 140
Fête Galante (Dresden), 136, 290
Fêtes Vénitiennes, les (Edinburgh), 135, 138
Gamme d’Amour, la, 136
Gilles (Louvre), 133
Gilles et sa Famille (Hertford House), 133
Indifférent, l’ (Louvre), 135, 140
Jaloux, les, 133
Joueur de Guitare (Musée Condé), 136
Jupiter et Antiope (Louvre), 136
Leçon de Musique, la (Hertford House), 136
Menuet, le (Petrograd), 135
Mézzetin, 133
Poisson en habit de Paysan, 134, 137
Surprise, la (Buckingham Palace), 136
Terrace Party, 290

Watts, Dr. Isaac, 144

Watts, Mrs. Roger, 325

Weaver, John, author of _An Essay towards a History of Dancing_,
and _History of Pantomimes_, 62, 143;
quoted, 145-147, 148

Wenzel, L., composer, 280, 281, 284-288

Weston’s Music Hall, Holborn, 249

Wiesenthal Sisters, dancers, 312

Wilde, William, manager of Alhambra, 252

Wilhelm, C., 24, 259, 276, 279-282, 284-292, 314, 326

Wilmot, Maud, dancer, 250

Wilson, Charles, stage-manager, Alhambra, 265-267, 271

Woodford, H., Secretary and Treasurer, Alhambra, 265

Yarnold, Fred, dancer, 262

Zacharias, Pope, bull suppressing “baladoires,” 50

Zanfretta, Mlle., 119, 282, 285, 286, 289

Zimmermann, Mlle. (Mme. Alexander Génée), dancer, 284

PRINTED BY
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.
PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _Exodus_, XV. 20.

[2] I _Samuel_, XXI. 11.

[3] II _Samuel_, VI. 14.

* * * * * *

Transcriber’s note:

Minor French language errors and punctuation errors have silently
been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation and spelling such as
“ballet-dancers/ballet dancers” and “terre-à-terre/terre à terre”
have been maintained.

Em-dashes within the Index have been removed in order to improve
readability.

Cover image created by transcriber and placed in the public domain.

Page 12: “PRÉVOT” changed to “PRÉVÔT”.

Page 12: “LÉON” changed to “LEON”.

Page 22: “evolutions du labyrinth” changed to “evolutions du
labyrinthe”.

Page 43: “tours de forces” changed to “tours de force”.

Page 69: “d’Escosse estoiet” changed to “d’Escosse estoient”.

Page 69: “Je prie Deu” changed to “Je prie Dieu”.

Page 94: “La Vaisseau” changed to “Le Vaisseau”.

Page 102: “vous addresses” changed to “vous adresser”.

Page 109: “Choregraphy” changed to “Choreography”.

Page 168: “choregraphic” changed to “choreographic”.

Page 192: “Madaleine” changed to “Madeleine”.