(LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO , 
 
 1
 
 The Dance
 
 BALLET PANTOMIME 
 From pose by Mile. Louise La Gai
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 ITS PLACE IN ART AND LIFE 
 
 BY 
 
 TROY AND MARGARET WEST KINNEY 
 ("THE KINNEYS") 
 
 With a frontispiece in colour and one hundred and seventy-six line 
 
 drawings and diagrams by the authors, and three hundred 
 
 and thirty-Jour illustrations in black-and-white 
 
 Jrom photographs 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 MCMXIV
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved, including 
 
 that of translation into 
 
 foreign languages 
 
 April, 1914 
 
 NOHWOUU-MASS-US-A
 
 To 
 
 A FELLOW-ENTHUSIAST 
 
 J. T. W. 
 WITH APPRECIATION
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The pleasant responsibility of writing about one of 
 our two overwhelming enthusiasms was accepted by us 
 only after consultation with friends in the dancing pro- 
 fession. 
 
 "A book of technical instruction is not the idea," we 
 started to explain. 
 
 "No," they concurred, "that would not be an under- 
 taking for painters. Only an experienced master of 
 dancing should write such a book, and he would not be 
 likely to, because he would know that execution is 
 taught only by personal criticism of a pupil's work." 
 
 We hastened to specify that the proposal involved 
 no more and no less than an effort to share our en- 
 thusiasm with others. Appreciation of an art requires 
 no faculties not included .in the normal human equip- 
 ment ; more than anything else it is a matter of knowing 
 what to look for. When a layman comes to a painter 
 asking what it is that people find so enjoyable in classic 
 mural decoration, the answer is not difficult. A few 
 hours in an art museum, with some direction of his at- 
 tention to line as a vehicle of beauty, acquaint him with 
 the idea of beauty as a self-sufficient object; and he goes 
 on his way rejoicing in the possession of a lasting proc- 
 ess of making happiness for himself. 
 
 Great dancing, to us, always had been a gratification 
 of the same senses that are addressed by decoration. 
 The same suggestions, therefore, that convey the power 
 to enjoy classic mural painting, would enable us to com- 
 
 Vll
 
 viii PREFACE 
 
 municate our satisfaction in the dance. But the ques- 
 tion arose, was our point of view on dancing in accord 
 with its real intent, and that of its performers and com- 
 posers ? 
 
 Madame Cavallazi disposed of the doubt at one 
 stroke. "The ballet," she said, "is mural decoration." 
 
 Sanctioned by such authority, we have followed the 
 lines above indicated, treating the dance from the stand- 
 point of pure optical beauty. Its enjoyment, experi- 
 ence proves, is distinctly sharpened by acquaintance 
 with choreographic technique. One not fairly familiar 
 with the resources of the art, though he be conscious 
 that the dance before his eyes is progressing, like music, 
 in conformity with an artistic argument, is confused by 
 the speed and seeming intricacy of steps. As a result 
 he loses the greater part of the beauty of the succession 
 of pictures unfolded before him. Whereas the ability 
 to grasp the theme of a composition, and then to follow 
 its elaboration through a vocabulary of already familiar 
 steps, is in effect to quicken the vision. Instead of be- 
 ing harassed by a sensation of scrambling to keep up 
 with the argument, the spectator finds himself with 
 abundant time to luxuriate in every movement, every 
 posture. And, like a connoisseur of any other art, he 
 sees a thousand beauties unnoticed by the untrained. 
 
 To the end of furnishing the needed acquaintance 
 with the alphabet of the art, the book includes a chapter 
 of explanation of the salient steps of the ballet. These 
 steps, with superficial variations and additions, form 
 the basis also of all natural or "character" dances that 
 can lay claim to any consideration as interpretative art. 
 It is convenient to learn the theories of them as accepted 
 by the great ballet academies, since those institutions
 
 PREFACE ix 
 
 alone have defined them clearly, and brought to perfec- 
 tion the ideals for their execution. Incidentally the 
 school of the ballet is made the subject of considerable 
 attention. In the first place, after getting a grasp of 
 its ideals and intent, any one will catch the sentiment of 
 a folk-dance in a moment. Moreover, it is in itself an 
 important institution. During its long history it has 
 undergone several periods of retirement from public at- 
 tention, the most recent beginning about sixty years ago. 
 From this eclipse it has already returned to the delighted 
 gaze of Europe; as always after its absences, so far 
 evolved beyond the standards within the memory of liv- 
 ing men that posterity seems to have been robbed of 
 the chance of discovering anything further. The re- 
 naissance is moving westward from St. Petersburg; 
 London is wholly under its influence; America has felt 
 a touch of it. 
 
 American love of animated beauty and delight in skill 
 predestine us to be a race of ardent enthusiasts over 
 the dance. Among us, however, there are many who 
 have never accepted it as an art worthy of serious at- 
 tention. As a gentle answer to that point of view, a 
 historical resume is included, wherein statesmen, phi- 
 losophers and monarchs show the high respect in which 
 the art has been held, save in occasional lapses, in all 
 periods of civilised history. 
 
 Direct practical instruction is furnished on the sub- 
 ject of present-day ballroom dancing, to the extent of 
 clear and exact directions for the performance of steps 
 now fashionable in Europe and America. The chap- 
 ter was prepared under the careful supervision of Mr. 
 John Murray Anderson. 
 
 Neither in word nor picture does the book contain
 
 x PREFACE 
 
 any statement not based upon the authors' personal 
 knowledge, or choreographic writings of unquestioned 
 authority, or the word of dancers or ballet-masters of 
 the utmost reliability. To these artists and to certain 
 managers we are greatly indebted. Much of the mat- 
 ter has never before been printed in English; a consid- 
 erable portion of it has here its first publication in any 
 language. The illustrations of dances of modern times 
 are made from artists in the very front rank of their 
 respective lines. If the new material so contributed to 
 choreographic literature proves, according to the belief 
 of dancers who have read the manuscript, to be of value 
 to producers, the authors will experience the gratifica- 
 tion that comes of having been of service. But their 
 efforts will be more directly repaid if the influence of 
 the book hastens by a day that insistence upon a high 
 choreographic ideal in America, and that unification of 
 dance-lovers which must exist in order that worthy pro- 
 ductions may be reasonably insured of recognition in 
 proportion to their quality. 
 
 Finally, a word of thanks to those whose aid has made 
 this book possible. Though busy, as successful people 
 always are, they have given time and thought unspar- 
 ingly to the effort, in co-operation with the authors, to 
 make this a substantial addition to the layman's under- 
 standing of the dancing art. 
 
 T. K. and M. W. K. 
 New York, November, 1913.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE DANCING OF ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 3 
 
 The dance a primitive emotional expression. Importance in Egyptian 
 
 religious ritual. Biblical allusions. Its high place in Greek civ- 
 ilisation. Origin attributed to the gods. Employed in observances 
 religious, civic, and private. Practice decreed by Lycurgus for 
 military discipline and cultivation of national stamina. A feature 
 of Plato's "Ideal Republic." Ballet in drama. Interacting in- 
 fluence between dance and sculpture. 
 
 II. DANCING IN ROME 22 
 
 Simplicity of early Roman taste and manners enforced by poverty. 
 Vulgarity with riches. Degeneration of dancing with other arts, 
 under Empire. Acrobatics, obscenity. Ballet pantomime. Py- 
 lades and Bathyllus. 
 
 III. THE MIDDLE AGES AND THE RENAISSANCE 29 
 
 The Christian Church lifts dance from degradation. Ballet d'action 
 
 in ritual of worship. A cause of disagreements between eccles- 
 iastical dignitaries. The Seises of Seville Cathedral preservers 
 of dance in religious service. Moralities, etc. Mechanical effects. 
 Ambulatory ballets. 
 
 Rebirth of polite society; the masque. Cardinal Riario. Cath- 
 erine de Medici, direct influence toward modern ballet. Elisabeth 
 of England. Richelieu, composer. Louis XIV, ballet performer, 
 founder of national academy. 
 
 Dawn of stars. Salle. Prevost. Camargo. New standards. 
 Expression. New steps added to those derived from old dances: 
 Gavotte, Minuet, Pavane, Saraband, Tordion, Bourree, Passecaille, 
 Passepied, Chaconne, Volte, Allemande, Gaillarde, and Courante. 
 Their formality; illustrations. 
 
 IV. A GLANCE AT THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 59 
 
 Visual music: dance steps are notes, an enchainement is a phrase, 
 
 a dance-composition is a song, the ballet is an orchestra. Ballet 
 dancing, as such, not based on imitation of nature; a convention, 
 analogous to ornamental decoration. Intent: perfect beauty of 
 line and rhythm; abstract qualities exploited. Importance of 
 pantomime unsettled.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 Ballet dancing can be seen intelligently only by aid of ac- 
 quaintance with elemental steps. Fundamental positions of feet 
 and hands. Gliding steps: chasse, echappe, coupe, etc. Batte- 
 ments, grand, petit. Changement. Entrechat. Brise. Ballone. 
 Enchainements. Pas de Bourree, pas de Basque. 
 
 Turns and pirouettes. Rond de jambe. Fouette. Sur le cou- 
 de-pied; en I'air. Renverse. En arabesque, etc. Optical illusions. 
 
 Phrasing. Theme. Motive. 
 
 'Standards of form. Exactness. Beneficial relaxation of for- 
 mality; results of unguided emancipation. 
 
 V. THE GOLDEN AGE OF DANCING 100 
 
 Early eighteenth century finds ballet profiting by many favourable in- 
 fluences. Royal patronage. Public enthusiasm and discernment. 
 Great-minded artists in co-operation. Fortunate accidents. The 
 Vestris, father and son. Noverre, " the Shakespeare of the 
 dance." Boucher, designer of stage decoration. Cluck. Costum- 
 ing. 
 
 Rivalries of Camargo and Salle; Allard and Guimard. Coterie 
 of great performers. French Revolution. 
 
 Dance resumed with return of peace. An ambassador as im- 
 presario. Public controversy and enthusiasm over Taglioni and 
 Ellsler; opposites; none to replace them; singing supersedes dan- 
 cing in opera. 
 
 VI. SPANISH DANCING 121 
 
 Gaditanae in Roman literature. Spanish dancing resists Roman cor- 
 ruption, Gothic brutality. Favouring influence of Moors. Attitude 
 of the Church. Public taste and discrimination. 
 
 Two schools, Flamenco (Gipsy origin) and Classic. The Gipsy. 
 La Farruca, el Tango, el Garrotin; distinct character. Costume. 
 Classic: Seguidillas family. Las Sevillanas; general character. 
 The Fandango rarely seen. La Malaguena y el Torero. Las 
 Malaguenas. The Bolero. Castanets. Los Panaderos. The Jota 
 of Aragon, character, costume, etc. Other dances. 
 
 VII. ITALIAN DANCES 156 
 
 The Forlana of Venice: Harlequin, Columbine, Dr. Pantalone. Pan- 
 tomime and tableaux. The Tarantella, character, costume. The 
 Ciociara of Romagna. Italian fondness for pantomime. The Sal- 
 tarello. La Siciliana, la Ruggera, la Trescona, etc. 
 
 VIII. EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING IN GENERAL 164 
 
 Folk-dancing an expression of social conditions. Scotch nationalism. 
 
 The Sword Dance; the Highland Fling; the Scotch Reel. Mo-
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 fives, basic steps. Reel of Tulloch. The Shean Treuse. Eng- 
 land: Sailor's Hornpipe. Morris Dances. Recent revival of old 
 dances. Ireland: Jig, Reel and Hornpipe. Intent, steps, devices 
 of tempo. Irish festivals; Gaelic League. Sweden: recent revival 
 of old dances. The Skralat; Kadriljs. The Vafva Vadna; the 
 Daldans. Holland: the Mdtelot. France: la Bourree, la Faran- 
 dole. Specimen freak dances: the Perchtentanz, the Bacchu-ber. 
 The Schuhplatteltanz of Bavaria. Balkan region: the Kolo. De- 
 generation of dancing in Greece. Russia: Cossack Dance, Court 
 Dance. Slavonic character and steps: the Czardas; the Mazurka; 
 the Szolo; the Obertass. Temperament. 
 
 IX. ORIENTAL DANCING 196 
 
 Symbolism, decoration, pantomime, story in the dance. Sensational 
 mismanagement in Occidental countries. Mimetic dancing a sub- 
 stitute for newspapers. The Dance of Greeting; welcome, bless- 
 ings, etc. Structure of Arabic choreography. Handkerchief 
 Dance of Cafes; candour. Flour Dance. Popular narrative 
 dances. Fantasia of Bedoui; religious outbreaks. Dancing for 
 tourists; the Almees. Dance, Awakening of the Soul. Animate 
 sculpture. Oriental technique. Sword Dance of Turkey. Der- 
 vishes. Lezginkd of the Caucasus. Ruth St. Denis; Nautch; t 
 Spirit of Incense; the Temple; the Five Senses. Antiquity; 
 carvings in India and Java. Hula-Hula of Hawaii. Priestesses 
 trained for religious dancing. Japan: dancing for all occasions. 
 Abstractness of symbols. Dances of war. 
 
 X. THE BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 228 
 
 Sterilisation of ballet by struggle for technical virtuosity. Ballet in 
 
 opera. Vulgarisms and counterfeits: the Can-Can; contortion; 
 high kicking; skirt-dancing; insipid prettiness. A revival of good 
 work; falsifications of it. Loie Fuller, silk scarf, electric lights. 
 Serpentine and Fire dances. Imitators. World's Fair of 1893; 
 stigma on Oriental dancing. One class of managers. Obscure 
 preparation of a new force. 
 
 XL THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 241 
 
 Isadora Duncan, complete idealist. Her metier. Russia: dissatisfac- 
 tion with ballet. Duncan in St. Petersburg. Secession from Im- 
 perial Academy. The romantic idea; choreography, music, paint- 
 ing united in a radical new school. The Russian ballet. Paris, 
 United States, England. Influence and reception. Management 
 in America.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XII. THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY AND ITS WORKINGS 257 
 
 Selection of pupils. Consecration to work. Contract, obligations 
 
 after graduation. Advantages to the government. General edu- 
 cation. Technical training: Italian ballet technique, music, draw- 
 ing, acting, pantomime, plastic gymnastics, fencing. Care of health. 
 Age of Academy. Russian ballet as distinguished from French- 
 Italian; law-governed freedom. Addition to emotional scope. 
 Recent ballet pantomimes. 
 
 XIII. SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 269 
 
 Revived interest in dancing. New forms of dance suited to the pres- 
 ent freedom of individual expression. Rapid changes. The Tur- 
 key Trot. New names for slightly altered dances already familiar. 
 The Argentine Tango; significance. Detailed instruction for per- 
 formance of the One-Step, the Boston, the Hesitation Waltz, the 
 Tango, the Brazilian Maxixe. Tendencies toward revival of old 
 court dances. 
 
 XIV. A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE OF CONDITIONS 304 
 
 Re-establishment of great dancing in the United States; will it take 
 
 and keep a high plane? Loose standards of judgment. Depend- 
 ence upon commercial management. Managers; their varied in- 
 fluences. Need of endowed ballet and academy. Difficulties of 
 ballet organisation in the United States. Insufficient training of 
 American ballet dancers. Ballet in operas; unimportance under 
 old traditions, changing standards. Metropolitan and Russian bal- 
 let; ground gained and partly lost. Russians under other auspices. 
 Ballet school; impositions upon it. Need of academy with dan- 
 cing as primary purpose. General organisation; departures from 
 scheme of Russian Academy. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 323 
 
 INDEX .,,,,,,,, 327
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BALLET PANTOMIME. From Pose by Mile. Louise La Gai . Frontispiece 
 
 TANAGRA FIGURE Page 3 
 
 GREEK VASE DECORATION 3 
 
 TANAGRA FIGURE 3 
 
 TANAGRA FIGURES Facing Page 4 
 
 GREEK CERAMICS " 5 
 
 GREEK VASE DECORATION Page 8 
 
 GREEK COMEDY DANCING 9 
 
 STATUETTES 10 
 
 Tanagra (A) Myrina (B) Tanagra (C). 
 
 GREEK RELIEF DECORATIONS Facing Page 12 
 
 GREEK CERAMIC DECORATIONS " " 13 
 
 STATUETTES Page 13 
 
 Myrina (A) Tanagra (B) Myrina (C) 
 
 DANCE OF NYMPHS " 17 
 
 TANAGRA FIGURES Facing Page 20 
 
 GREEK COMEDY DANCING Page 21 
 
 DANCE OF PEASANTS " 36 
 
 BALLET OF THE FOUR PARTS OF THE WORLD: Entrance of 
 
 the Grand Khan " 41 
 
 A FOURTEENTH CENTURY BALL " 46 
 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY COURT DANCES Facing Page 48 
 
 The Tordion (i, 2) The Pavane (3, 4, 5). 
 
 Louis XIV AND A COURTIER IN THE BALLET OF NIGHT . Page 50 
 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY COURT DANCES Facing Page 54 
 
 The Saraband (i) The Allemand (j)The Minuet (2, 4, 
 
 S 6, 7). 
 
 THE GAVOTTE " 55 
 
 MME. ADELINE GENE AND M. ALEXANDER VOLININE ... " " 64 
 
 Ballet Robert le Diable (i) Butterfly Dance (z) Pierrot 
 
 and Columbine (3). 
 
 MME. GENE IN HISTORICAL RE-CREATIONS AND M. VOLIN- 
 INE " " 65 
 
 Sallt (i) The Waltz (z) Camargo (tfGuimard (4). 
 
 FUNDAMENTAL POSITIONS OF THE FEET Page 66
 
 xvi ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 POSITIONS OF THE ARMS Page 67 
 
 "GLISSADE" " 68 
 
 "ASSEMBL" " 69 
 
 "ASSEMBLES" AND CHANGEMENT (Floor Plan Diagram) ... "69 
 
 "jE-ri" " 70 
 
 "JET" TO THE SIDE " 71 
 
 "BATTEMENTS" " 72 
 
 STEPS OF THE "BATTEMENT" TYPE " 74 
 
 "FouErris" " 75 
 
 START OF A "FOUETT PIROUETTE" " 76 
 
 "FouETTE PIROUETTE" (Continued) " 77 
 
 OPTIONAL FINISH OF A "FOUETTE PIROUETTE" " 78 
 
 THE "PIROUETTE SUR LE COU-DE-PIED" " 79 
 
 VARIOUS "PIROUETTES" " 80 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE "RENVERS" " 82 
 
 THE "RENVERS" (Concluded) " 83 
 
 Two FORMS OF "ATTITUDE" " 84 
 
 MECHANISM OF BROAD JUMP " 86 
 
 CLASSIC BALLET POSITIONS Facing Page 88 
 
 Typical moments in a renoerst (i, 2, 3, 4, 5,) Starting a 
 developpe (6) Progress of a rond de jambe (7, 8, p). 
 
 CLASSIC BALLET POSITIONS (Continued) " " 89 
 
 Rond de jambe (10) Jete tour (n) Pas de bourree (12) 
 Preparation for a pirouette (73) Position sur la pointe 
 (14) A fouettS tour, inward (14) A cabriole d derriire 
 (16) Descent from an entrechat (17) An arabesque (iS). 
 
 "LA MALAGUENA y EL TORERO" " " 122 
 
 TYPICAL "FLAMENCO" POSES Page 129 
 
 "FLAMENCO" POSES " 133 
 
 "LAS SEVILLANAS" " 137 
 
 "L BOLERO" Facing Page 138 
 
 Typical moment in first copla (/) Finish of a phrase (2). 
 
 "LA JOTA ARAGONESA" " 139 
 
 Type of movement (/) Finish of a turn (2) A pirouette 
 (5) Kneeling position (4) Woman's sitting position (5). 
 
 Two GROUPS IN "LAS SEVILLANAS" Page 140 
 
 GROUPS IN "LA MALAGUESA Y EL TORERO" " 145 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS SPANISH NOTES 147 
 
 Two GROUPS IN "Los PANADEROS" 149 
 
 PART OF THE "JOTA" OF ARAGON 152 
 
 "LA TARANTELLA" Facing Page 156 
 
 Opening of the dance (/) A poor collection (2) They 
 gamble for it (la Morra) (3) She wins (4) He wins (5).
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS xvii 
 
 "LA TARANTELLA" Facing Page 157 
 
 An arabesque (/) Finish of a phrase (2) Typical mo- 
 ment (j) Finish of a phrase (4). 
 
 "LA TARANTELLA" " " 158 
 
 Opening of the dance (/) A turn back-to-back (2) A 
 pause after rapid foot-work (j) Characteristic finishes of 
 phrases (4, 5). 
 
 "L A FORLANA" " " 159 
 
 Doctor Pantalone patronized (/) Defied (2) Pleads (j) 
 
 Accepts the inevitable (4) Is ridiculed (5). 
 
 "L A CIOCIARA" " " 160 
 
 Opening promenade (l, 2) End of promenade (j) He 
 has "made eyes" at a spectator (4) Opening of dance 
 (second movement) (j). 
 
 "L A CIOCIARA" . . . " " 161 
 
 Rustic affection (/) Again caught in perfidy (2) Tries 
 to make amends (j) Without success (4) Removed from 
 temptation (5). 
 
 THE SCOTCH SWORD DANCE " " 164 
 
 A step over the swords (i, 2) A jump over the swords (j) 
 
 Steps between the swords (4, 5). 
 
 THE "SCOTCH REEL" " " 165 
 
 Use of the Battement (/) A pirouette (2) Characteristic 
 style (3, 4) A turn (5). 
 
 THE "SHEAN TREUSE" " " 168 
 
 The promenade (/, 2) The thematic step (j) Finish of 
 a phrase (4). 
 
 THE "SAILOR'S HORNPIPE" " " 169 
 
 Look-out (/) Hoisting sail (2) Hauling in rope (j) 
 Rowing (4) Type of step (5) Type of step (6) Hoist- 
 ing sail (7). 
 
 IRISH DANCES " " 174 
 
 The Jig (/, 3, 4} The Hornpipe (2, 5) The Reel (6, 7, 
 8). 
 
 A "FOUR-HAND REEL" . *. " " 175 
 
 Preparation for woman's turn under arms (/) Character- 
 istic style (2) A turning group figure (j). 
 
 THE "IRISH JIG" AND PORTRAIT OF PATRICK J. LONG ... " " 178 
 
 FROM VARIOUS FOLK-DANCES Page 185 
 
 THE "ScHUHPLATTELTANz" . Facing Page 186 
 
 A swing (/) A turn (2) A turn, man passing under 
 woman s arms (j) A swing, back-to-back (4) The 
 Mirror (5).
 
 xviii ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE "ScHUHPLATTELTANz" OF BAVARIA Facing Page 187 
 
 Preparing a turn (/) A lift (2) Starting woman's series 
 of turns (5) Start of woman's turns (4) Man fans her 
 along with hands (5) Finish of dance (6). 
 
 THE "KoLo" OF SERVIA " " 190 
 
 Start of a turn (/) Progress of a turn (2) A bridge of 
 arms (3) An emphasis (4) A lift (5). 
 
 POSES FROM SLAVONIC DANCES " " 191 
 
 Coquetry (/) Petulance (2) Indifference (j) Em- 
 phasis (4) Jocular defiance ($). 
 
 POSES FROM SLAVONIC DANCES " " 192 
 
 Negation (/) Fear (2) Supplication (j) An empha- 
 sis (4). 
 
 POSES FROM SLAVONIC DANCES " " 193 
 
 Characteristic gesture (/) Characteristic step (2) Char- 
 acteristic gesture (j) Characteristic step (4) Same, an- 
 other view (5) Ecstasy (6) The claim of beauty (7). 
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF GREETING" " " 196 
 
 Called upon to dance, she reveals herself (/) Salutation (2) 
 
 Profile view of same (5). 
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF GREETING" (Continued) " " 197 
 
 " For you I will dance " (4) " From here you will put away 
 care" (5, 8) "Here you may sleep" (6) "Here am I" 
 
 (7). 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF GREETING" (Continued) " " 198 
 
 "And should you go afar" (9) "May you enjoy Allah's 
 
 blessing of rain" (id) "And the earth's fullness" (//). 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF GREETING" (Continued) " " 199 
 
 "May winds refresh you" (12) "Wherever you go" (75) 
 
 "Here is your house" (14) "Here is peace" (75) 
 "And your slave" (16). 
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF MOURNING" " " 200 
 
 The body approaches (/) The body passes (2) " / hold 
 
 my sorrow to myself" (j). 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF MOURNING" (Continued) " " 201 
 
 "He has gone out of the house and up to Heaven" (4) 
 
 "Farewell" (5). 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF MOURNING" (Continued) " " 202 
 
 "He slept in my arms" (6) " The house is empty" (7) 
 
 "Woe is in my heart" (8). 
 
 ARAB SLAVE GIRL'S DANCE " " 203 
 
 "HANDKERCHIEF DANCE" OF THE CAFES " " 206 
 
 The handkerchiefs symbolizing the lovers are animated with 
 
 the breath of life, but kept dissociated (/) Brought into 
 
 semi-association (2) Separated and dropped (3).
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS xix 
 
 "HANDKERCHIEF DANCE" (Continued) Facing Page 207 
 
 She can dance about, between or away from them, indiffer- 
 ently (4) Made into panniers, the panniers express her 
 willingness to receive; turned inside out, her willingness to 
 give (5) One of the two handkerchiefs is thrown to the se- 
 lected lover (6). 
 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" " " 210 
 
 The soulless body (/) Asks for the light of life (2) Fision 
 dawns (3) Inexpert in life, she walks gropingly (4). 
 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" (Continued) " " 211 
 
 She draws aside the veil of the future (5) Life is seen full 
 and plenteous (6). 
 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" (Continued) " " 212 
 
 But old age will come (7) Grief will visit (8) She shall 
 walk with her nose close to the camel's foot (p). 
 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" (Continued) " " 213 
 
 Yet now, from the crown of her head (10) To the soles of her 
 feet she is perfect (//). 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL NOTES Page 215 
 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" (Continued) Facing Page 216 
 
 Rejoices in the perfect body (12) And in all good things 
 (13) Runs from the scene (14). 
 CHARACTERISTIC PANTOMIME IN DANCING OF MODERN 
 
 EGYPT " " 217 
 
 Express sorrow (i, j) Represents a prayer directed down- 
 ward and back: i.e., to spirits of evil (2). 
 
 "DANCE OF THE FALCON" (EGYPTIAN) " " 218 
 
 Shock as the bird strikes his quarry (i) Rejoicing as he 
 overcomes it (2). 
 
 DANCING GIRLS OF ALGIERS " " 219 
 
 RELIEFS ON TOWER OF THE TEMPLE OF MADURA (INDIA) . Page 219 
 
 PERSIAN DANCE. PRINCESS CHIRINSKI-CHICHMATOFF . . . Facing Page 220 
 
 ORIENTAL POSES " " 221 
 
 Votive offering (j poses) Decorative motives (3 poses) 
 Disclosure of person (/ post). 
 
 JAVANESE DANCER, MODERN " " 222 
 
 RELIEF CARVINGS, TEMPLE OF BOROBODUL, JAVA " " 223 
 
 Dance of Greeting (i) Dance of Worship (2) An Arrow 
 Dance (j). 
 
 "NAUTCH DANCE" " " 226 
 
 JAPANESE DANCE " " 227 
 
 ISADORA DUNCAN " " 242 
 
 GREEK INTERPRETATIVE DANCE " " 243 
 
 IMPRESSIONS OF ISADORA DUNCAN Page 244
 
 xx ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 MLLE. LOPOUKOWA, MLLE. PAVLOWA, MLLE. NIJINSKA, WITH 
 
 SR. E. CECCETTI Facing Page 246 
 
 MLLE. LYDIA KYASHT AND M. LYTAZKIN " " 247 
 
 "ARABESQUE" " " 248 
 
 "ARROW DANCE" " " 249 
 
 BACCHANAL " " 252 
 
 MLLE. LYDIA LOPOUKOWA " " 253 
 
 MLLE. PAVLOWA IN A BACCHANAL " " 257 
 
 MLLE. LOPOUKOWA, IN BOUDOIR " " 258 
 
 MLLE. LOPOUKOWA, INTERPRETATIVE DANCE " " 259 
 
 MLLE. LOPOUKOWA, IN "Ls LAC DES CYGNES" " " 262 
 
 M. ALEXANDER VOLININE " " 263 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE RUSSIAN BALLET POSES AND GROUPS . . Page 265 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE RUSSIAN BALLET POSES AND GROUPS . . " 267 
 
 THE "WALTZ MINUET" Facing Page 272 
 
 Characteristic style (/) Variation, position of hands (2) 
 
 Preparation for a turn (j) The Mirror figure (4). 
 
 THE "GAVOTTE" SHOWING PRESENT TENDENCIES " " 273 
 
 Characteristic style (/) Characteristic style (2) A curtsy 
 
 (j) Arabesque to finish a phrase (4). 
 
 SOCIAL DANCING; POSITION OF FEET (Diagram) Page 276 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: THE TURN (Diagram) " 277 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: GRAPE-VINE (Diagram) " 278 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: EIGHT (Diagram) " 279 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: SQUARE (Diagram) " 279 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: A FIGURE OCCUPYING THREE MEASURES 
 
 (Diagram) " 280 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: THE MURRAY ANDERSON TURN (Diagram) " 281 
 
 THE ONE-STEP: A CROSS-OVER (Diagram) " 282 
 
 DEVELOPMENT OF AN ARCH "A LA PIROUETTE" Facing Page 282 
 
 Cross to right (i) Cross to left (2) Start of turn (3). 
 
 THE ONE-STEP " " 283 
 
 The "Kitchen Sink" (i) Position of couple (2). 
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE" " " 283 
 
 Characteristic position of advanced foot (3). 
 
 THE "BOSTON," ESSENTIAL STEP (Diagram) Page 284 
 
 THE WALTZ Facing Page 284 
 
 A position of the couple in the Waltz-Minuet (/) Correct 
 
 position of man's hand on woman's back (2) A position 
 
 also assumed in the One-step Eight (3) A Dip (4). 
 
 THE WALTZ " " 285 
 
 Correct position of couple (/) Of feet, in short steps (2) 
 
 Of feet, in Dip (3) Another view of the Dip (4), 
 
 THE BOSTON, STEP BACKWARD (Diagram) Page 285 
 
 THE BOSTON, THE DIP (Diagram) " 286
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS xxi 
 
 THE BOSTON, THE DIP SIMPLIFIED (Diagram) Page 287 
 
 THE BOSTON, AN EMBELLISHMENT (Diagram) " 288 
 
 THE BOSTON, AN EMBELLISHMENT (Diagram) " 288 
 
 THE BOSTON, SAME, WITH TURNS (Diagram) " 289 
 
 THE "HESITATION WALTZ," THEME (Diagram) " 289 
 
 THE "HESITATION WALTZ" VARIATION ON THEME (Dia- 
 gram) 290 
 
 THE "TANGO" Facing Page 290 
 
 Characteristic style (/, 2, 4) Woman circles man (3). 
 
 THE "TANGO" " " 291 
 
 Characteristic style. 
 THE "HESITATION WALTZ," THE "LvoN CHASSE," (Diagram). Page 291 
 
 THE "TANGO" Facing Page 294 
 
 THE "TANGO" 295 
 
 The reverse (/) The regular Tango walking step (2) 
 Style of movement (3) Position of hands sometimes as- 
 sumed to emphasize the end of a phrase (4). 
 
 THE "TANGO," THE "CORTE" (Diagram) Page 295 
 
 THE "TANGO," THE SCISSORS (Diagram) " 295 
 
 THE "TANGO," THE SCISSORS VARIATION (Diagram) .... " 296 
 
 THE "TANGO," THE MEDIA LUNA (Diagram) " 296 
 
 THE "TANGO" Facing Page 296 
 
 The corte (i) Characteristic style (2) A variation (3) 
 Start of a turn (4). 
 
 A "TANGO" STEP " " 297 
 
 Man's foot displaces woman's (i) Woman's foot displaces 
 man's (2) Each displaces the other's foot (3). 
 
 THE "TANGO," THE EIGHT (Diagram) Page 297 
 
 THE "TANGO," A WALTZ TURN (Diagram) " 297 
 
 THE "TANGO," AN EASY STEP (Diagram) 298 
 
 A NORTH AMERICAN FIGURE IN THE "TANGO" Facing Page 298 
 
 Preparation (i) After the twist (2) Finishing with a 
 Dip (3). 
 
 THE "TANGO," EXECUTED TO THE REAR (Diagram) .... Page 299 
 
 THE "TANGO," A NORTH AMERICAN FIGURE (Diagram) . . " 299 
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE," FIRST FIGURE (Diagram) ... " 300 
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE," THIRD FIGURE (Diagram) ... " 301 
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE" Facing Page 302 
 
 Characteristic style (i) A dip (2) Variations (3, 4). 
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE" " " 303 
 
 Preparation for a turn (i) Finish of a turn (2) Char- 
 acteristic style (3) A dip (4).
 
 THE DANCE
 
 The Dance 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE DANCING OF ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 
 
 BEFORE logic, man knew emotion; before creed, 
 ritual. With leap and mad gesture the savage 
 mimics his triumph, to the accompaniment of 
 crude saltation performed by a hero-worshipping tribe. 
 
 Not by argument is the coming storm propitiated, but 
 by a unified expression of tribal humility. To the 
 rhythm of beaten drums, the tribe, as one, performs the 
 genuflexions and prostrations that denote supplication 
 and fear. 
 
 So on through the gamut of simple emotions love 
 and hate, fealty and jealousy, desire and achievement 
 primitive man expresses his mood in terms of the dance. 
 History shows that dancing persists on a plane with 
 words, paint and music as a means of expression, how- 
 ever far a race may advance along the road of evolu- 
 tion; and that the few exceptions to this rule are to be 
 found among peoples who have allowed a Frankenstein 
 
 3
 
 4 THE DANCE 
 
 of logic to suppress, for a time, their naturalness of 
 spirit. 
 
 Egyptian carvings of six thousand years ago record 
 the use of the dance in religious ritual; and abundant 
 evidence attests the importance in which it was held at 
 all times through the period of Egypt's power. In 
 lines as stately as the columns of a temple, sculptors have 
 traced choreography's majestic poses, its orchestral repe- 
 titions and variations. As a dance may be, the religious 
 dances of Egypt were a translation and an equivalent 
 of the spirit of the Pharaohs' monumental architecture ; 
 that they were no less imposing than those temples we 
 cannot avoid believing. 
 
 Plato, deeply impressed by these hierarchical ballets, 
 finds that their evolutions symbolised the harmonious 
 movements of the stars. Modern deduction carries the 
 astronomical theme still further : the central altar is be- 
 lieved to have represented the sun; the choral move- 
 ments around it, the movements of the celestial bodies. 
 Apis, the sacred black bull, was honoured in life by 
 dances of adoration, in death by ballets of mourning. 
 
 Either dancing was attributed to the divinities (ac- 
 cording to a Christian saint of later centuries, it is the 
 practice of angels) or some of the divinities were repre- 
 sented by dancers in the religious ballets. A carving in 
 the Metropolitan Museum of New York shows Anubis 
 and Horus kneeling, their arms completing a pose that 
 is seen to this day in the dances of Spain. 
 
 Important as was the dancing of Egypt as the root 
 from which grows the choreography of all the Occident 
 and of India too, for anything known to the contrary 
 the carvings reveal little of its philosophy or symbol- 
 ism. But the history of other peoples at once demon-
 
 Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 
 
 TANAGRA FIGURES 
 
 To face page 4
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 5 
 
 strates its force as example, at least, if not as teacher of 
 actual technique. The Hebrews of very early days gave 
 dancing a high place in the ceremony of worship. 
 Moses, after the crossing of the Red Sea, bade the chil- 
 dren of Israel dance. David danced before the Ark of 
 the Covenant. 
 
 Numerous Biblical allusions show that dancing was 
 held in high respect among early leaders of thought. 
 "Praise the Lord . . . praise Him with timbrel and the 
 dance," is commanded. With dancing the Maccabees 
 celebrated that supremely solemn event, the restoration 
 of the Temple. To honour the slayer of Goliath, the 
 women came out from all the cities of Israel, "singing 
 and dancing . . . with tabrets, with joy and with in- 
 struments of musick." Relative to the capture of wives 
 the sons of Benjamin were told: ". . . if the daugh- 
 ters of Shiloh come out to dance in dances, then come 
 ye out of the vineyards, and catch you every man his 
 wife . . . and the children of Benjamin did so, and 
 took them wives, according to their number, of them 
 that danced, whom they caught" (Judges 21 :2i and 23). 
 "Thou shalt again be adorned with thy tabrets, and 
 shalt go forth in the dances of them that make merry" 
 (Jeremiah 31:4). "Then shall the virgin rejoice in 
 the dance" (Jeremiah 31:13). "And David danced 
 before the Lord with all his might" (2 Samuel 6:14). 
 In the solemn chapter of Matthew narrating the be- 
 heading of John the Baptist we read : "But when Her- 
 od's birthday was kept, the daughter of Herodias danced 
 before them, and pleased Herod. Whereupon he 
 promised with an oath to give her whatever she would 
 ask." 
 
 Perhaps with an idea of forestalling discussion of
 
 6 THE DANCE 
 
 the art's antiquity, one of the early writers eliminates 
 argument by a simple stroke of the pen. "The stars 
 conform to laws of co-ordinated movement. 'Co-ordi- 
 nated movement* is the definition of dancing, which 
 therefore is older than humanity." Taking this at its 
 face value, human institutions are thrown together into 
 one period, in which differences of a thousand years are 
 as nothing. 
 
 In turning to Greece, years need lend no aid to make 
 the subject attractive. In that little world of thought 
 we find choreography luxuriant, perhaps, as it never has 
 been since ; protected by priesthood and state, practised 
 by rich and poor, philosopher and buffoon. Great 
 mimetic ballets memorialised great events ; simple rustic 
 dances celebrated the gathering of the crops and the 
 coming of the flowers. Priestesses performed the 
 sacred numbers, the origins of which tradition attrib- 
 uted to Olympian gods; eccentric comedy teams enliv- 
 ened the streets of Athens; gilded youth held dancing 
 an elegant accomplishment. Philosophers taught it to 
 pupils for its effect on body and mind; it was a means 
 of giving soldiers carriage, agility and health, and cul- 
 tivating esprit de corps. To the development of dancing 
 were turned the Greek ideals of beauty, which in their 
 turn undoubtedly received a mighty and constant uplift 
 from the beauty of harmonised movements of healthy 
 bodies. Technique has evolved new things since the 
 days of classic Greece ; scenery, music and costume have 
 created effects undreamed of in the early times. But 
 notwithstanding the lack of incidental factors and one 
 questions if any such lack were not cancelled by the 
 gain through simplicity the wide-spread practice of 
 good dancing, the greatness and frequency of munici-
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 7 
 
 pal ballets, the variety of emotional and aesthetic mo- 
 tives that dancing was made to express, all combine to 
 give Greece a rank never surpassed as a dancing nation. 
 
 The man-made attributes of man's gods are a synopsis 
 of man's important thoughts. Cybele, mother of the 
 gods and friend of mankind, taught dancing to the cory- 
 bantes as a fitting gift to be passed along to her mortal 
 foster-children. Apollo, speaking through the mouths 
 of priestesses, dictated further choreographic laws. 
 Orpheus journeyed to Egypt to study its dances, that 
 he might add to the scope of the Hellenic steps and 
 movements. One of the nine muses was devoted to the 
 fostering of this particular art. All of which shows a 
 profound belief in the Greek mind that dancing was 
 worthy of a great deal of divine attention. Certainly 
 no subsequent civilisation has been so well qualified to 
 judge the importance of dancing, for none has experi- 
 mented so completely in the effect of rhythmic exercise 
 on the body and mind of a nation. 
 
 Classic sculpture no more than suggests the impor- 
 tance of dancing in Greek life. An assemblage of a few 
 Greek thinkers' observations on the subject furnishes 
 an idea of the value they gave it as a factor in education. 
 Plato, for instance, specifies it among the necessities for 
 the ideal republic, "for the acquisition of noble, har- 
 monious, and graceful attitudes." Socrates urged it 
 upon his pupils. Physicians of the time of Aristophanes 
 prescribed its rhythmic exercise for many ailments. 
 Lycurgus gave it an important place in the training 
 of youth, military and otherwise. Among the special 
 dances whose teaching he decreed, was one, the Hormos, 
 that was traditionally performed without clothing. 
 Plutarch tells of a protest against the nudity of the
 
 8 THE DANCE 
 
 women. The Law-giver of Athens replied: "I wish 
 them [the women] to perform the same exercises as 
 men, that they may equal men in strength, health, vir- 
 tue and generosity of soul, and that they may learn to 
 despise the opinion of the vulgar." 
 
 Of great men's dancing in public there are instances- 
 
 FROM A FOURTH CENTURY VASE. 
 In the Louvre. 
 
 in abundance. The very method of choosing the lead- 
 ers of great civic choreographic spectacles insured the 
 association of people of consequence, for these leaders 
 were always selected from the highest rank of citizens. 
 Epaminondas, Antiochus, and Ptolemseus are variously 
 mentioned for their skill in dancing, as well as their 
 prominence in national affairs. Sophocles danced 
 around the trophies of the battle of Salamis. yEschylus 
 and Aristophanes danced in various performances of 
 their own plays. And Socrates, one of the very fathers 
 of human reasoning, danced among friends after din- 
 ner. Aristides danced at a banquet given by Dionysius 
 of Syracuse. Anacreon, in his odes, declares that he 
 is always ready to dance. 
 
 Professional dancers enjoyed high prestige. Philip 
 of Macedon had one as a wife; the mother of Nicomedes, 
 king of Bithynia, was a dancer. Aristodemus, a famous
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 
 
 dancer of Athens, at one time was sent to the court of 
 Philip of Macedon as ambassador. 
 
 This chapter must not be understood as trying to rep- 
 resent that Athenian civil life was given over to an 
 endless round of choreographic celebration ; nor have the 
 later chapters concerning the courts of the Louis any 
 intent to picture a set of beings whose minds were de- 
 voted to dancing to the exclusion of all else. What is 
 intended, however, is to call attention to an important 
 omission in the writings of the general historian, who 
 never has given dancing its due proportion of consid- 
 eration as a force in those and other high civilisations. 
 Literature and the graphic arts followed the coming of 
 civilisation, and are among its results; they have been 
 analysed with all degrees of profundity. The dance is, 
 undoubtedly, among the causes of Greek vigour of mind 
 
 GREEK COMEDY DANCING. 
 
 and body ; but it is of far less concern to the average his- 
 torical writer than any disputed date. The microsco- 
 pist charting the pores of the skin knows nothing of the 
 beauty of the figure. And the grammarian's myopic 
 search for eccentricities of verb-forms atrophies his 
 ability to perceive the qualities of literature, until finally 
 he will try to convince his listeners that literary quality 
 is, after all, a subject for the attention of smaller minds. 
 Greek philosophy, mathematics, political and military
 
 10 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 science are part of the structure of Occidental society 
 a good and useful part. Had the importance of the 
 dance been appreciated had proper authority recog- 
 nised its inherent part in the Greek social organism 
 who can say how much dulness, ugliness and sickli- 
 ness of body and spirit the world might have escaped? 
 
 ABC 
 
 STATUETTES. 
 
 From (A) Tanagra; (B) Myrina now in the Louvre; (C) Tanagra 
 
 (disputed). 
 
 Folk-dancing has been introduced into the public schools 
 of certain cities; a movement too new to be judged. 
 Let it be neither praised nor censured until results have 
 had time to assert themselves. If at the end of ten 
 years the children who have danced their quota of min- 
 utes per day do not excel in freedom from nervous ab- 
 normalities, the children who have not danced; if they 
 fail to manifest a better co-ordination of mind and body, 
 and a superior power of receiving and acting upon sug- 
 gestion then let public school dancing be abolished as 
 of no value beyond amusement and exercise. 
 
 Of recent years a good deal of ingenuity has gone into 
 study of the dances of classic Greece, with view to 
 their re-creation. From paintings on vases, bas-reliefs 
 and the Tanagra statuettes has been gathered a general
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 11 
 
 idea of the character of Greek movement. The results 
 have been pleasing, and in Miss Duncan's case radical, 
 as an influence on contemporary choreographic art. But, 
 beautiful and descriptive as they are, the plastic repre- 
 sentations are of scattered poses from dances not as a 
 rule identified. If, therefore, present-day re-creations 
 often fail to show the flights of cumulative interest com- 
 mon in modern ballet, Spanish and Slavonic work, the 
 shortcoming is due at least in part to the lack of ex- 
 plicit records of sequences of step, movement and pan- 
 tomimic symbol. For it is impossible to believe that the 
 dance composers of the age of Pericles did not equal 
 their successors, even as their contemporaries in the 
 fields of sculpture, architecture and poetry left work 
 never yet excelled. 
 
 Of the names and motives of dances the record seems 
 to be pretty complete. Sacred, military and profane 
 are the general categories into which the very numer- 
 ous Greek dances divide themselves. The sacred group 
 falls into four classes : the Emmeleia, the Hyporchema, 
 the Gymnopcedia, and the Endymatia. Of these the two 
 latter seem to have been coloured by sentiments more or 
 less apart from the purely religious. 
 
 Of the Emmeleia, Plato records that some had the 
 character of gentleness, gravity and nobility suitable to 
 the sentiments by which a mortal should be permeated 
 when he invokes the gods. Others were of heroic or 
 tragic aspect, emphasising majesty and strength. A 
 characteristic of this group was its performance without 
 accompaniment of chorus or voice. The origin of the 
 group is attributed to Orpheus, as a fruit of his mem- 
 ories of Colchis and Sais. 
 
 The Hyporchema, equally religious, were distin-
 
 12 THE DANCE 
 
 guished by their use of choral accompaniment. In some 
 cases it might be more accurate to say that the dances 
 were an accompaniment to recited poetry; for in very 
 early times the dances seem to have been employed to 
 personify, or materialise, the abstractions of poetic met- 
 aphor. Both men and women engaged in dances of this 
 group, and its plane was of lofty dignity. In it were 
 the oldest dances of Greece, besides some composed by 
 the poet Pindar. 
 
 The Gymnopcedia were more or less dedicated to the 
 worship of Apollo, and were especially cultivated in 
 Arcadia. As the name implies, the performers were 
 nude youths wearing chaplets of palm. A material 
 character seems to have marked this group : Athenaeus 
 finds in it points of identity with the Anapale, which is 
 known to have been a pantomimic representation of com- 
 bat. 
 
 The Endymatia crossed the border-line between the 
 sacred and profane. They were brightly costumed 
 dances, and in demand for general entertainment. In 
 connection with this group we find the first allusion to 
 the highly modern institution of dancers' "private en- 
 gagements" professionals aiding in the entertainment 
 of dinner-parties. The Greek and Roman custom of 
 seeing dancers instead of listening to after-dinner 
 speeches is too well known to justify more than a men- 
 tion. 
 
 These four groups are the fundamentals from which 
 numberless other dances were derived, to be variously 
 dedicated to gods, public events, abstract qualities, crops, 
 and fighting. If no particular occasion offered, people 
 would dance for the good reason that they felt like it, 
 as Neapolitans dance the Tarantella to-day. To the
 
 Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum oj An, New York 
 
 GREEK RELIEF DECORATIONS
 
 Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 
 
 GREEK CERAMIC DECORATIONS
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 13 
 
 glory of Bacchus were the Dionysia; the Iambic was 
 sacred to Mars, the Caryatis, a dance symbolising inno- 
 cence, and danced nude, to Diana. Hercules, Theseus, 
 the daughters of Jupiter, Castor and Pollux were so 
 honoured each dance having its special identification of 
 movement, meaning or costume. 
 
 Semirelated to the religious group were the dances 
 
 STATUETTES. 
 From (A) Myrina; (B) Tanagra; (C) Myrina. 
 
 of mourning. Unlike certain modern dances of the 
 same intent, these are not recorded as having been 
 primarily an individual's pantomimic dance representing 
 qualities of the deceased, or illustrating his relations 
 during life with friends and family ; although there was 
 a time in which the cortege was headed by an individual 
 dressed in the clothes of the deceased, imitating his vir- 
 tues and sometimes also his failings. Regularly, how- 
 ever, the dancing was strictly ritualistic, forming a 
 solemn decorative concomitant of the vocal and instru- 
 mental music. (At what point in his evolution did the 
 Occidental determine that his ritualistic expressions 
 should be directed almost exclusively to the ear?) A 
 corps of fifteen girls danced before the funeral car, which 
 was surrounded by a band of youths. Naturally the
 
 14 THE DANCE 
 
 brilliancy of the function was more or less proportionate 
 to the station and estate of the departed. 
 
 On dances of war the Greeks relied as an important 
 element in the soldier's training. In their pantomime 
 the veteran lived over the moments of combat, while his 
 children and even his wife caught anew the spirit of 
 Hellenic arms. 
 
 Plutarch wrote: "The military dance was an inde- 
 finable stimulus which inflamed courage and gave 
 strength to persevere in the paths of honour and valour." 
 It is still known that a body of men moving in step feel 
 fatigue distinctly less than when walking out of step. 
 One of the things learned by the long-distance runner, 
 the wood-cutter, or any other performer of continued 
 work, is the importance of establishing as quickly as 
 possible a regular rhythmic relation between the sepa- 
 rate parts of a complete movement, including the intake 
 and expulsion of breath among those parts. Such a 
 rhythm once established, movement succeeds movement 
 with something like momentum; the several steps, or 
 blows of the axe, do not each require a separate effort 
 of the will. Something of this was Plutarch's "indefin- 
 able stimulus." 
 
 Apart from efficiency of the individual, experience 
 has shown that a command moving "in time" is unified 
 in the fullest sense, with each soldier more or less per- 
 fectly proof against any impulse at variance with the 
 esprit de corps. To weld a number of men ever more 
 closely into the condition of a military unit is one of the 
 purposes of drill. Drill is in great part a matter of 
 keeping in step. The Greeks carried to a high pitch 
 the unification of a military body in respect to all the 
 movements of attack and defence. History repeatedly
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 15 
 
 records the demoralisation of the enemy, carried by the 
 assaults of the perfectly organised Greek fighting bod- 
 ies. But undoubtedly an important value of the study 
 for perfection of corps unity was the disciplinary effect 
 on the Greek soldier himself. 
 
 As a means toward such perfection, Greek law pre- 
 scribed dancing for the soldier. An obvious benefit 
 from his practice of the art was the advantage due to 
 mere muscular exercise; and that in itself is no small 
 thing when the dance is performed in full armour, as the 
 Greek soldier performed it. 
 
 Authorities classify the military dances as Pyrrhic 
 and Memphitic; but the division seems hardly essential, 
 since the meagre technical descriptions draw no distinct 
 line between the two groups. In both, performers 
 carried sword or spear and shield. The movements 
 brought in the manoeuvres of individual combat cutting 
 and thrusting, parrying, dodging and stooping. That 
 they might be carried to a degree of realism is indicated 
 in a description by Xenophon. At the end of a mimic 
 combat between two Thracians, at the conclusion of 
 which the victor sang a song of victory and possessed 
 himself of the vanquished man's weapons, the specta- 
 tors cried out with emotion, believing that the fallen 
 man was killed. 
 
 Of the words "Pyrrhic" and "Memphitic," the latter 
 seems to connote a performance less insistent on the ele- 
 ment of combat. To Minerva is credited the origin of 
 the Memphitic group, legend having it that the goddess 
 of wisdom composed these dances to celebrate the defeat 
 of the Titans. The usual accompaniment was the flute, 
 according with the idea of comparative tranquillity. 
 Both styles were danced by women; special fame for
 
 16 THE DANCE 
 
 proficiency was given to the vigorous daughters of 
 Sparta, Argos, and Arcadia, and to the Amazons. 
 
 Pantomime was important in most Greek dances. 
 Greek writers interested themselves in an effort to trace 
 pantomime to its origin; but they were not very suc- 
 cessful, because they went no further back than the demi- 
 gods. Whereas sign-talk, if inference may be drawn 
 from savages, antedates spoken language which is be- 
 side the point of the present sketch. 
 
 Pantomime artists of Greece were of various ranks, 
 according to the plane of thought represented in their 
 work. Ethologues represented moralities, or virMeats', 
 they "depicted the emotions and the conduct of man so 
 faithfully, that their art served as a rigorous censorship 
 and taught useful lessons," writes De 1'Aulnaye, in De 
 la Saltation Theatrale. They were not only artists, but 
 philosophers of a moral standard of the utmost height 
 and purity : the poems of one of them, Sophron of Syra- 
 cuse, were among the writings kept at hand by Plato 
 during his last hours. GujueXt/cot were pantomimists of 
 lesser rank, whose work was principally comedy of a 
 farcical nature though the word seems to have the 
 primitive meaning of "chorister." 
 
 Rich in scope was the Greek stage; and, until later 
 days, generally high in plane. For its effects it drew 
 upon poetry, music, dancing, grouping and posing. Lit- 
 tle is known of the music; re-creations of it (how au- 
 thoritative the authors do not know) are simple and 
 melodious, with no attempt at grandeur. But in the 
 other departments, what veritable gods in collaboration ! 
 Euripides, Aristophanes, and yEschylus are of those who 
 supplied texts. Sculptors whose works are no less per- 
 ishable gave their knowledge to grouping and posing.
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 17 
 
 Of the merit of the performers there is no adequate 
 record, for lack, among other things, of an explicit 
 choreographic terminology. (This deficiency was first 
 made up in the French language, after the organisation 
 of the National Academy of Music and Dancing, in the 
 seventeenth century. ) What is known, however, is that 
 dancing was considered a proper medium of expression 
 of great motives, and that great-minded artists chose 
 
 DANCE OF NYMPHS. 
 From an antique frieze in the Louvre. 
 
 it as a career; not in spite of a public condescension to 
 it, but with the support of a profound public respect. 
 
 Accuracy of rhythm is of an importance obvious to 
 grades of intelligence far below that of the Greeks. 
 They laid stress no less on what may be called rhythmic 
 quality than on mere emphasis of tempo. A time- 
 marker was provided with an assortment of sandals 
 soled with metal or wood of various thicknesses; by 
 means of these he produced sounds consistent with the 
 changing sentiments of the action. (Compare the 
 modes of getting varied sounds from castanets, in chap- 
 ter on Spanish dancing.) Castanets, too, were used in 
 Greece, essentially the same as those of Spain to-day; 
 also flat sticks in pairs, like clappers, but which unlike
 
 i8 THE DANCE 
 
 clappers were gripped between the thumb and fingers. 
 Little cymbals on the dancers' hands sometimes added 
 their voice, and the tambourine was popular. The va- 
 riety of these time-marking instruments indicates knowl- 
 edge of the many effects attainable by tempo alone. In- 
 deed a reading of the poets emphasises this: their 
 selection of words for sound as well as meaning will 
 force even a mediocre reader into an observance of the 
 author's intention of ritard and accelerando, legato and 
 staccato, emphasis and climax. Associated with ballet 
 production, as the ablest poets were, it may be taken as 
 assured that the devices of tempo were made familiar 
 to dancers unless it was the dance that taught the metre 
 to the poets. 
 
 Masks were worn to identify character ; but their pri- 
 mary function appears to have been the concealment of 
 a sound-magnifying device to carry the voice through 
 the great spaces of out-door theatres. Women's parts 
 in the ballets were played by men at least fre- 
 quently; whether the reverse was a conspicuous excep- 
 tion is also uncertain. Both usages were destined to 
 survive in pantomime through centuries. Objection to 
 the mask always was overruled by authority ; the Greek 
 play was such an irreproachable organism that deviation 
 from its accepted formulas was deemed an impious and 
 dangerous heresy. In the eighteenth century a pre- 
 mier danseur's absence put a French ballet director tem- 
 porarily at the mercy of the second dancer, a young 
 radical, who refused to "go on" wearing a mask.* Not 
 until then was the mask tradition disturbed. 
 
 Though exact data of the steps of popular dances are 
 lacking, literary allusions record dance names and gen- 
 eral character in great number. A complete catalogue 
 
 * See also page 101.
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 19 
 
 of them would offer little inspiration to the lay student 
 or the professional; no more than a hint of their broad 
 scope is necessary. Dances suggesting the life of ani- 
 mals were plentiful. Some were underlaid with a sym- 
 bolic significance, as that of the crane, the bird's con- 
 fused wanderings representing the efforts of Theseus 
 to find his way out of the labyrinth, the legend in its 
 turn probably having some relation to life and the tricks 
 it plays on its possessors. The fox was a favourite sub- 
 ject, and the lion was not overlooked. Though the au- 
 thor of Chanticler may have been the first to avail him- 
 self of the grotesqueries of poultry, the Greeks danced 
 owls and vultures. Similar to the Oriental Danse du 
 Venire was the Kolia, probably brought across from 
 Egypt. Another suggestion of North Africa was 
 known in Greek language as the Dance of Spilled Meal 
 what more reasonable than to infer that it was the 
 same in scheme as the Flour Dance of present-day Al- 
 geria? The flour or meal that identifies this perform- 
 ance is spread on the floor, and a more or less involved 
 design traced in it. What follows is interesting chiefly 
 as a test of a species of virtuosity: the dancer's object 
 is, in her successive turns across and about the design, 
 to plant her feet always within the same spaces, the 
 loose meal exposing any failure. Rapidity of tempo 
 and involution of step may raise the difficulties to a point 
 beyond the reach of any but the most skilful. The chil- 
 dren's game of Hop-scotch is a degenerated kinsman of 
 the dance in and over a design. 
 
 There were dances of satyrs and goats, nymphs, mon- 
 keys, gods and goddesses, flowers, grapes and the wine- 
 press. Combat was rendered into poetry in the Spear 
 Dance, the Fight with the Shadow (ovda/mxia), the fights
 
 20 THE DANCE 
 
 with shields, with swords. There were "rounds," per- 
 formed by an indefinite number of people joining hands 
 in a ring; traces of these are said to survive as peas- 
 ant dances of the Greece of to-day. There were solos, 
 pas de deux and pas de quatre. Pythagoras made a 
 period of dancing a part of the daily routine of his pu- 
 pils, Hymeneia were danced to help celebrate a well- 
 conducted wedding. Prayers, sacrifices and funerals, 
 as stated before, were incomplete without their several 
 and special dances. 
 
 Movement no less than speech is a vehicle for satire, 
 wit, sensuality and indecency. Theophrastus, with the 
 intent of showing the degree of shamelessness to which 
 erring humanity may fall, tells of a man who performed 
 a dance called the Cordax without the excuse of being 
 drunk at the time of the deed. Covering a wide range 
 of light motives was the Sikinnis, the word being applied 
 both to a certain dance and to a form of satirical mimo- 
 drama. In the latter sense it burlesqued the politics, 
 philosophy and drama of the day. As all peoples divide 
 themselves into masses and classes on lines of taste as 
 well as of money, so also eventually the Athenians. In 
 the hands of the Athens rabble catered to perhaps by 
 ancestors of certain twentieth-century managers the 
 Sikinnis, as a satire, fell into the slough of vulgarity. 
 
 As a dance it may be thought of as a favourite of that 
 Alcibiades type of youth in whom education has not de- 
 pressed Arcadian frivolity. How such a one vexed the 
 solemnity of a court is the subject of an anecdote com- 
 piled by Herodotus. Clisthenes, king of Sicyon, in or- 
 der to marry his daughter to the greatest advantage, 
 decided to settle the selection of her husband by com- 
 petition. The invitation met with due interest on the
 
 Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 
 
 TANAGRA FIGURES 
 
 To face page 20
 
 ANCIENT EGYPT AND GREECE 21 
 
 part of the rich and the great. Suitors came from far 
 and near, among them two from Athens. An ominous 
 circumstance, for "Attic salt" was out of the same barrel 
 as the "sal de Andalucia" of to-day ; both have the record 
 of becoming operative immediately on exposure to any 
 air of oversolemnity. 
 
 After days of regal festivity, Clisthenes dedicated a 
 hecatomb to the gods, gave a final banquet, and an- 
 nounced that the suitor-selecting competition would be 
 along the lines of music and poetry. When it came to 
 the turn of Hippoclides, one of the two Athenians, he 
 asked that a table be brought in. On this he mounted, 
 stood on his hands, and traced the figures of a Sikinnis 
 in the air with his feet! 
 
 Until the king's temper was quite gone, the perform- 
 ance was received in silence. Herodotus supposed that 
 Hippoclides interpreted the silence as encouragement; 
 but Herodotus very clearly did not know that kind of 
 boy. The polished though inverted youth on the table 
 was estimating the horror among his worthy spectators, 
 and luxuriating. 
 
 Greece, with her fine simplicity of thought, furnished 
 the pattern on which was cut the civilisation of early 
 Rome; Greek art, the concrete expression of her lofty 
 thought, furnished Rome a model. Which model Rome 
 followed until loot and tribute provided her with means 
 to express the taste that was her own. 
 
 GREEK COMEDY DANCING.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 DANCING IN ROME 
 
 AN art that achieves beauty by means of the grace 
 of simple lines, elegance of proportion and other 
 simple resources of composition, is the art of a 
 vigorous nation. Such an art scorns florid treatment, 
 surface realism, triviality; and such an art was that of 
 early Rome. It had that something clumsily called 
 semiasceticism, that attaches to dignity. 
 
 A national art quality exists, as is axiomatic, upon a 
 basis and by virtue of a corresponding public state of 
 mind; each influencing the other, but the public state 
 of mind being the force that shapes the art, rather than 
 the reverse. The spirit of simplicity dominated Greece 
 through many centuries of her grandeur. In Rome it 
 endured until Rome grew rich. Its coexistence in the 
 case of the two peoples was no more than a coincidence ; 
 they arrived at their common simplicity through wholly 
 different processes. 
 
 In Greece, beauty was understood. Action and 
 adornment were restrained because their value was 
 found to be multiplied by sparing use ; because, too, any 
 excess of them detracted from the great qualities of line 
 and proportion. In Greece, moreover, beauty disso- 
 ciated from subject or sentiment could always find an 
 appreciative reception; the Hellenic mind loved beauty 
 for its own sake. And that is the cause of the reserve 
 that governs the best Greek art. 
 
 Early Rome, too, instilled into her children the spirit 
 
 22
 
 DANCING IN ROME 23 
 
 of simplicity. Not, however, with any understanding 
 of the relation of simplicity to beauty and dignity. War 
 and lust for conquest made the early Roman stern ; and 
 simplicity, attached to a very real asceticism, was thrust 
 upon him by the uncompromising hand of poverty. 
 But, after a few centuries of fattening on loot and trib- 
 ute, what of Rome? Stupidity, degeneracy and vul- 
 garity. 
 
 Loot and tribute ! In respect to riches both material 
 and mental, other peoples' contributions to Rome's des- 
 tiny were of a degree of importance sometimes under- 
 rated. Her monumental physical structure was built 
 from taxes gathered by the mailed hand. In respect to 
 her thought, expressed in essays, poems, orations, let- 
 ters, commentaries or whatsoever other form, the ex- 
 tent of other nations' contribution to Rome's apparent 
 originality is, at first glance, less evident. Upon Greek 
 foundations of narrative structure, metre, and form in 
 general, Roman writings are built, Romanised though 
 they be in subject-matter but Rome's sterility of inven- 
 tion in that field is suited rather to the discussion of lit- 
 erary men than of dance-lovers. 
 
 But sculpture is pertinent. The first so-called Ro- 
 man art was accomplished by carving Roman faces 
 upon thickened figures in Greek poses, executing them 
 in Greek technique of modelling, and naming them Ro- 
 man gods and senators. Later the Greek simplicity of 
 modelling was discarded; to replace it there was 
 achieved an ostentatious mediocrity. The Pompeian 
 frescoes? The good ones were painted by Greeks, 
 brought across for the purpose. And the vivacious lit- 
 tle statues found in Pompeii express the same artistic- 
 ally witty point of view.
 
 24 THE DANCE 
 
 In the field of material gain and convenience Rome's 
 contribution to the world is not to be questioned. But 
 water-supply, paving, land laws and fortifications are 
 not related to questions of taste. It is Roman taste of 
 which one tries to form a conception, in order to explain, 
 at least in part, the disappointing history of dancing un- 
 der the Caesars. And the mere direction of attention 
 to Rome's relation to the arts anticipates the story of 
 her treatment of the dance, leaving only details to be 
 told. 
 
 First in chronology is found the dancing symbolical 
 of war. Then comes a simple religious choreography, 
 under the Salic priests, supplementing the ritual of sac- 
 rifice. As time goes on Greek dances are transplanted, 
 with the degree of success to be expected among a race 
 whose minds, though active, are pleased only by ma- 
 terial power, gain, and ostentation: by a process of 
 atrophy following non-appreciation, the symbolism dis- 
 appears from symbolic dances and the ideal of beauty 
 from the purely beautiful dances. They became at best 
 a display of agility to amuse rustics. More generally 
 they fell into the service of sex allurement ; not the sug- 
 gestive merely, nor the provocative, but unbridled depic- 
 tion of what should not be revealed and of things that 
 should not exist. This condition of affairs is more than 
 hinted in works of some of the much-read Latin writers, 
 stated by archaeologists, and confirmed by certain Pom- 
 peian statues. 
 
 Such offences, despite the resentment they arouse in 
 the feelings of any naturally constituted person, might 
 be partially pardoned by the dance-lover if they con- 
 tributed anything to the dance. But absolutely they 
 do not. There is latent drama and good drama in sex
 
 DANCING IN ROME 25 
 
 relationships ; but not one accent of its valid expression 
 can be traced to dances of obscenity. The dancer who 
 gives himself over to obscenity loses, every time, the 
 things that made him a dancer : form, truth and beauty 
 of movement and posture. Where the art of dancing 
 is appreciated, artists avoid obscene suggestion. Where 
 it is not, many are forced to it in order to make a 
 living. However, even where the art is appreciated, 
 obscenity furnishes the incompetent a means of pretence 
 of an artist's career; for obscenity is sure of a mixed 
 following of rabblement, some in rags and some in vel- 
 vet. 
 
 Among the Romans themselves, actual participation 
 in the dance was not popular. Propriety forbade so 
 close an association with an art disfigured and dirtied, 
 the Roman reviling as unclean the image soiled by his 
 own hand. From Spain, Greece and Syria people were 
 brought to dance before gourmands and wasters, de- 
 graded to the level of their patrons' appreciation, and 
 discarded when they had exhausted the scope of novel- 
 ties suitable to the demand. Several centuries of Ro- 
 man employment of dancers contributed not one step, 
 gesture or expression to the art ; the plastic and graphic 
 records show only that which is Greek, or, on the other 
 hand inane, vulgar, or degenerate. To the latter levels 
 sank the Ludiones and the Saturnalia; instituted as reli- 
 gious celebrations, ending as orgies. 
 
 It is vaguely asserted that the Roman stage ampli- 
 fied the Greek scope of pantomime. And, notwith- 
 standing the many reasons to distrust such a statement, 
 there were two artists whose work may have been of 
 a class to justify it. They were Pylades and Bathyllus, 
 natives respectively of Silicia and Alexandria. Their
 
 26 THE DANCE 
 
 names live in the impression they produced. Of the 
 character of their work it is impossible to learn any- 
 thing explicit ; "softly dancing Bathyllus" is as concrete 
 a reference as anything to be found about them in writ- 
 ings of their period. So it is impossible to know 
 whether their great popularity was due to merit, or to 
 ingenious compliance with the taste of their adopted 
 city. Their record, therefore, must stand as the story 
 of a furor, and not necessarily as that of artistic 
 achievement. 
 
 "The rivalries of Pylades and Bathyllus occupied the 
 Romans as much as the gravest affairs of state. Every 
 Roman was a Bathyllian or a Pyladian," De 1'Aulnaye 
 writes. Vuillier presents a more graphic image of their 
 hold on public attention: "Their theatrical supporters, 
 clad in different liveries, used to fight in the streets, and 
 bloody brawls were frequent throughout the city." For 
 the endless quarrelling and intriguing between the two, 
 Pylades was once taken to task by the emperor. The 
 answer was that of a lofty artist or a publicity-seeking 
 gallery-player, let him decide who can: "Caesar, it is 
 well for you that the people are occupied with our quar- 
 rels; their attention is in that way diverted from your 
 actions." 
 
 His arrogance directed itself impartially toward ruler 
 and subject. Representing the madness of Hercules 
 he combined pantomime with dancing he shot arrows 
 into the audience. Octavius being present on such an 
 occasion refrained from any expression of disapproval. 
 Was he afraid of offending his people by so much as 
 an implied criticism of their favourite? It is not un- 
 likely. When, unable to control his impatience with 
 Pylades' unsettling influence, the emperor banished him,
 
 DANCING IN ROME 27 
 
 a revocation of the decree was made imperative by signs 
 of a popular insurrection ! 
 
 Not the least of the instances of Pyladian insolence 
 was his interruption of the action of a play to scold his 
 audience. During a performance of Hercules some 
 one complained loudly that the movement was extrava- 
 gant. Pylades tore off his mask and shouted back, "I 
 am representing a madman, you fools !" 
 
 So much for Pylades and Bathyllus. The jealous, 
 hypertemperamental artist who allows nothing to inter- 
 fere with the effect of the work to which he is conse- 
 crated sometimes falls into eccentricities of conduct. 
 Such eccentricities are copied to admiration by impu- 
 dent incompetents; and, contrary to P. T. Barnum's 
 aphorism, some of them do "fool all the people all the 
 time" especially if those people themselves lack the 
 clear vision of simplicity. Impudence to emperors and 
 "shooting up" audiences may mean the utmost of either 
 sincerity or hypocrisy; choice of opinion is free. Cer- 
 tainly the Roman Empire's political intrigues reveal a 
 profound and practical knowledge of the science of pub- 
 licity; it is an ancient profession. 
 
 Artists, advertisers or both, it matters not at all, Py- 
 lades and Bathyllus failed to lift dancing from the mire. 
 The self-styled "Eternal City," the Rome of the Caesars, 
 held it down to her level till her rotted hands could cling 
 no longer, yet treated it from first to last with scorn. 
 Horace, who never allowed his wit to lead him into dan- 
 ger of offending any except those without influence on 
 his patron Maecenas, repeatedly uses association with 
 dancers as a synonym of disreputability. Cicero takes 
 a fling at the art ; Sallust attacks a lady for dancing with 
 a degree of skill unbecoming a virtuous woman. With
 
 28 THE DANCE 
 
 the logic of a father who locked up his children so that 
 they should not teach bad manners to their parents, suc- 
 cessive emperors banished dancers for doing their work 
 according to the taste of their patrons. 
 
 Rome's inability to move her imagination on a high 
 plane had decayed her, muscle, brain and bone; wealth 
 slipped away, and all of her that was respected was her 
 remote past. In the meantime she had imposed upon 
 Europe her laws and prejudices. Ears trained to cred- 
 ulous attention were those that heard her complaint of 
 the depravity of dancing a 'complaint given colour by 
 the obscenity of the only secular dancing known to 
 Europeans (outside of Spain) in the time of the empire's 
 decadence. With such a combined force of misrepre- 
 sentation against it, its restoration to a proper position 
 among the great arts was destined to be postponed a 
 thousand years. To this day there persists to its in- 
 jury an echo of its early defamation. 
 
 Yet in the hour of humiliation, the dance gained the 
 respect of the only earthly power that might reasonably 
 hope, in such an extremity, to save it from a miserable 
 end. It was taken under the protection of the Christian 
 Church.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE MIDDLE AGES AND THE RENAISSANCE 
 
 CHRISTIANITY, like the religions of the He- 
 brews of old and the Greeks, employed dancing 
 as an important part of the ritual of worship. 
 During the greater part of a thousand years, the re- 
 lation was not violently disturbed; the ballet a" action 
 served in the mass before the altar, and in the "morali- 
 ties" that long held favour as an agency of spiritual 
 instruction. A clerical it was who eventually composed 
 and staged the great pantomime which the many au- 
 thorities place as the first modern ballet. 
 
 European society, slowly emerging from the mire of 
 Roman manners, at length found itself hungry for 
 beauty, and capable of intelligent use of pearls. The 
 ballet masque was evolved, and long remained the su- 
 premely brilliant feature of noble festivities. Polite 
 society, headed by a king, was the founder of the ballet 
 as it is now known. But this was in modern times. 
 The institution that had conserved choreography 
 through the brutishness of the Dark Ages was the 
 Church. 
 
 To one Father Menestrier is owed a compilation of 
 data about dancing, especially in relation to religion. 
 The good father was a Jesuit living in the seventeenth 
 century, his book having been written about 1682. 
 While his own comments are not always contributory to 
 
 exact knowledge of choreographic detail, the facts he 
 
 29
 
 30 THE DANCE 
 
 collected from a great variety of sources are important 
 and interesting. In the following passage he definitely 
 attaches dancing to the ritual: 
 
 "Divine service was composed of psalms, hymns and 
 canticles, because men sang and danced the praises of 
 God, as they read His oracles in those extracts of the 
 Old and New Testaments which we still know under 
 the name of Lessons. The place in which these acts 
 of worship were offered to God was called the choir, 
 just as those portions of comedies and tragedies in which 
 dancing and singing combined to make up the inter- 
 ludes were called choruses. Prelates were called in the 
 Latin tongue, Prcusules a Prcesiliendo, because in the 
 choir they took that part in the praises of God which 
 he who led the dances, and was called by the Greeks 
 Choregus, took in the public games." 
 
 The word "prasul" was the designation of the chief 
 priest of the Salii, of early Rome. 
 
 Quoting from St. Basil's Epistle to St. Gregory, 
 Menestrier writes further: "What could be more 
 blessed than to imitate on earth the rhythm of an- 
 gels?" ("Quid itaque beatius esse potent quam in 
 terra tripudia Angelorum imitarif") To this he adds: 
 "Philosophers have also existed who believed that these 
 spirits had no other means of communication among 
 themselves but signs and movements arranged after the 
 manner of dances. After this we need not be surprised 
 that Virgil, in the sixth book of the JEneid, makes the 
 spirits dance in the Elysian fields." 
 
 The Emperor Julian was reproved by St. Gregory of 
 Nazianzus, not for dancing, but for the kind of dances 
 with which he occupied himself. "If you are fond of 
 dancing," said the saint, "if your inclination leads you
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 31 
 
 to these festivals that you appear to love so passion- 
 ately, dance as much as you will; I consent. But why 
 revive before our eyes the dissolute dances of the bar- 
 barous Herodias and the Pagans ? Rather perform the 
 dances of King David before the Ark; dance to the 
 honour of God. Such exercises of peace and piety are 
 worthy of an emperor and a Christian." 
 
 No more need be quoted to explain the adoption of 
 dancing by the Church, and the regard in which it was 
 held by the reverend fathers. By some of them, that 
 is. Others held it in different estimation. Odon, 
 Bishop of Paris, proscribed dancing in the twelfth cen- 
 tury. Notwithstanding, the fifteenth and sixteenth see 
 in Spain the so-called Villancicos de Navidad (a choreo- 
 graphic celebration of the birth of Christ) and the dances 
 of the Seises, then as now performed in the Cathedral 
 of Seville. The latter were authorised in 1439 by a 
 Bull of Pope Eugenius IV. Their discontinuance was 
 ordered by Don Jayme de Palafox, Archbishop of Se- 
 ville. To settle the matter the Seises were taken to 
 Rome and their dances shown to the Pope, who as a 
 consequence approved their continuance. 
 
 France, too, declined to take the proscription seriously, 
 as almost numberless documents and images attest. In 
 1584 the Canon of Langres, by name Jehan Tabourot, 
 otherwise Thoinet Arbeau, wrote (in his seventieth 
 year) his work called Orchesographie. He refers 
 cheerfully to opposition: "We practice such merry- 
 making on days of wedding celebrations, and of the sol- 
 emnities of the feasts of our Church, even though the 
 reformers abhor such things ; but in this matter they de- 
 serve to be treated like some hind-quarter of goat put 
 into dough without lard." ("Mais Us meriteroient d'y
 
 32 THE DANCE 
 
 etre traictez de quelque gigot de bouc mis en paste sans 
 lard.") Not an infelicitous metaphor, after inquiry 
 reveals that dough without lard bakes to the hardness 
 of concrete, so that the aid of a hammer is necessary to 
 crack the shell. What more satisfying disposal of dis- 
 senters from one's own opinions? 
 
 Proofs of the dance's tenacious inclination to embody 
 itself in the worship of the vital new religion are many. 
 Records of efforts to establish it are mingled with those 
 of counter-efforts to expel it ; on the one side a belief that 
 worship is an emotional expression, on the other a lean- 
 ing toward logic. Whether religious uplift is a matter 
 of emotion or of reason is a question perhaps not wholly 
 settled yet. Certainly the mediaeval writers recorded lit- 
 tle to reflect a spirit of compromise no concession that 
 ritual or logic might advantageously be chosen with some 
 reference to the psychology of the individual. At the 
 suggestion of the Council of Toledo, a ritual rich in sacred 
 choreography was composed by Saint Isidore, archbishop 
 of Seville in the seventh century. Another century pro- 
 duced two occurrences of choreographic importance at 
 about the same moment: from Pope Zacharias, a pro- 
 hibition of dancing; from the Moorish invasion, preser- 
 vation of the seven churches of Toledo. Of the two 
 influences, the latter was deemed paramount. In the 
 seven churches a mass known as the Mozarabe was 
 established, continued in all of them through the gen- 
 erations of Moorish occupancy of the city, and is still 
 celebrated daily in the cathedral. In the other six 
 churches it was discontinued toward the middle of the 
 nineteenth century. With accompaniment of the tam- 
 bourine, whose resonance Saint Isidore characterised as 
 "the half of melody," the service included solemn dan-
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 33 
 
 cing of the style of the Saraband and the Pavane. 
 Whether or not the choreographic features are still re- 
 tained, the authors are unable to say. 
 
 Writing in 1731 a Discourse on Comedy, Father 
 Pierre le Brun contributes the information : " . . . that 
 while the preachers were saying their mass, buffoons, 
 histrions, players of instruments and different other 
 farceurs were made to come ;. this disorder is severely 
 forbidden, as well as dances and the presentation of 
 spectacles in the churches and cemeteries. The same 
 prohibition is found in the synodic statutes of the diocese 
 of Soissons, printed in that city in 1561. Dances were 
 sometimes performed before the church, and there was 
 not less objection made against the practice at that 
 time. . . . Meanwhile it is disgracefully tolerated in 
 some of the country parishes." 
 
 These "spectacles" were the vehicle that carried the 
 mimetic ballet through the Dark Ages from Rome's li- 
 centious theatre and banquet hall to the stately salon of 
 the Medici. Under the name of "moralities" they sur- 
 vive to this day in convents, though clipped as to their 
 choreographic wings. Everyman, played a few years 
 ago by Ben Greet and his company, was a re-creation of 
 some of the elements of the early morality, plus speech 
 and minus dancing. Love, aspiration, reverence ; envy, 
 fear, remorse and various other elemental abstractions 
 that inhabit the human soul were the source of most of 
 the morality's characters; the dramatic action con- 
 sisted usually if not always in a simple treatment of 
 the influences wrought by the varied forces on the des- 
 tiny of a man. The man, no more and no less than 
 the abstract qualities, was represented by an actor. Oc- 
 currences of man's life, both earthly and subsequent,
 
 34 THE DANCE 
 
 were equally available as dramatic material. Apostles, 
 angels and even God were of frequent representation. 
 
 A start was made in a direction destined to lead to the 
 development of scenery. Whereas the Greek drama es- 
 tablished the setting by means of spoken words (and the 
 Roman apparently made no exception to the same prac- 
 tice), the early morality specified the setting by means 
 of words or crude symbols marked on objects, the back 
 wall, and other available surfaces: "forest," "front of 
 house," "Heaven," "street," or whatever was necessary. 
 Elaboration by degrees brought these primitive sugges- 
 tions up to the point of real scenery, with practical me- 
 chanical devices for sensational entrances. 
 
 One must infer that the semiconstant opposition of 
 the Church to these representations was necessitated by 
 occasional forgetfulness of their sacred character. The 
 pagan gods persistently lingered among the dramatis 
 persona, undismayed by the fact that they were dead, 
 and unshamed by the treatment their followers had ac- 
 corded Christianity. Performers no less than authors 
 were sometimes guilty of ribaldry ranging from the friv- 
 olous to the impious. "A canon playing entirely nude 
 the role of Christ, and a clerk representing Saint Fran- 
 cis in a scene of seduction, undressed in the same man- 
 ner, were not at all spectacles of which the originators 
 of the genre had dreamed." 
 
 Yet the good clearly outweighed the bad. And al- 
 though repeatedly prohibited, no mention is found of 
 dancing being severely penalised. Now at the altar and 
 again at the feast it serves, in whatever capacity is re- 
 quired of it, until at length it comes into prominent con- 
 nection with the strolling ballet. 
 
 For the morality play or mystery, as it is otherwise
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 35 
 
 known becomes an elaborate affair, with casts and 
 mechanical and scenic effects, on such a scale that it must 
 collect more coppers than one town affords, in order to 
 recover the initial expense of the production. On a 
 scale sufficient to make an impression on its times was 
 the spectacle designed to celebrate the canonisation of 
 Carlo Borromeo, at Lisbon in 1610. In the words of 
 Vuillier: "A ship, bearing a statue of St. Carlo, ad- 
 vanced toward Lisbon, as though to take possession of 
 the soil of Portugal, and all the ships in the harbour 
 went out to meet it. St. Anthony of Padua and St. 
 Vincent, patrons of the town, received the newcomer, 
 amid salvoes of artillery from forts and vessels. On 
 his disembarkation, St. Carlo Borromeo was received 
 by the clergy and carried in a procession in which fig- 
 ured four enormous chariots. The first represented 
 Fame, the second the city of Milan, the third Portugal, 
 and the fourth the Church. Each religious body and 
 each brotherhood in the procession carried its patron 
 saint upon a richly decorated litter. 
 
 "The statue of St. Carlo Borromeo was enriched with 
 jewels of enormous value, and each saint was decorated 
 with rich ornaments. It is estimated that the value of 
 the jewelry that bedecked these images was not less than 
 four millions of francs (160,000). 
 
 "Between each chariot, bands of dancers enacted 
 various scenes. In Portugal, at that period, processions 
 and religious ceremonies would have been incomplete 
 if they had not been accompanied by dancing in token 
 of joy. 
 
 "In order to add brilliancy to these celebrations, tall 
 gilded masts, decorated with crowns and many-coloured 
 banners, were erected at the doors of the churches and
 
 36 THE DANCE 
 
 along the route of the choreographic procession. These 
 masts also served to show the points at which the pro- 
 cession should halt, for the dancers to perform the prin- 
 cipal scenes of their ballet." 
 
 A century and a half before this in 1462 King 
 Rene of Provence had organised an entertainment, at 
 once religious and social, given on the eve of Corpus 
 Christi. The word "entremet" was applied to the alle- 
 
 DANCE OF PEASANTS. 
 After a sixteenth-century engraving. 
 
 gorical scenes, denoting "interlude," like the Italian 
 "intermezzo." Other components of the representation 
 were combats and dances. The affair as a whole was 
 a mixture of the sacred and profane to which any idea 
 of unity was completely alien: Fame on a winged 
 horse; burlesque representations of the Duke and 
 Duchess of Urbino, riding donkeys (why represented, 
 no one knows but during three centuries the two were 
 travestied in Corpus Christi processions) ; Mars and 
 Minerva, Pan and Syrinx, Pluto and Proserpine, fauns, 
 dryads and tritons dancing to drums, fifes and castanets ;
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 37 
 
 Jupiter, Juno, Venus and Love following in a chariot. 
 The three Fates, King Herod persecuted by devils, more 
 devils pursuing a soul, it in turn protected by a guardian 
 angel; Jews dancing around a golden calf; the Queen 
 of Sheba and suite; Magi following a star hung at the 
 end of a pole ; the Massacre of the Innocents ; Christ and 
 the Apostles all were scattered through and among the 
 groups of legendary beings of Greece. More dancers, 
 a detachment of soldiers, and Death with a scythe fol- 
 lowing after all others, approximately completed the 
 fantastic catalogue. 
 
 The entertainment as a whole was called by the king 
 the Lou Gue. A number of the French popular dance 
 airs that lasted for centuries are said to date back to 
 it. Tradition credits the king with the composition of 
 the work in all its branches conception, ballets, music 
 and all. 
 
 The childish lack of theme, or scheme, bars the Lou 
 Gue and the entertainments that followed from any 
 comparison with a ballet spectacle of later times, or of 
 antiquity. But it bridged a gap to better things, kept 
 the ballet in existence, and had the merit of being amus- 
 ing. In eccentricity it may well be coupled with the 
 celebration of the wedding of Charles the Bold and Mar- 
 garet of England; "fabulous spectacles imprinted with 
 a savage gallantry," as M. Brussel puts it. The proces- 
 sion of the latter affair included a leopard riding a uni- 
 corn, a dwarf on a gigantic lion, and a dromedary bear- 
 ing panniers of birds, "strangely painted as though they 
 came from India/' that were released among the com- 
 pany. 
 
 The fete organised by Bergonzio de Botta in 1489, 
 showed a step in the direction of the ballet's destined
 
 38 THE DANCE 
 
 progress. The occasion was the marriage of Galeazzo, 
 Duke of Milan, with Isabel of Arago.n. This fete em- 
 ployed the dance, music, poetry and pantomime in the 
 adornment of a banquet; and the whole entertainment 
 was unified with ingenious consistency. The descrip- 
 tion of it given by Castil-Blaze cannot be improved 
 upon: 
 
 "The Amphitryon chose for his theatre a magnificent 
 hall surrounded by a gallery, in which several bands of 
 music had been stationed; an empty table occupied the 
 middle. At the moment when the Duke and Duchess 
 appeared, Jason and the Argonauts advanced proudly 
 to the sound of martial music. They bore the Golden 
 Fleece ; this was the tablecloth, with which they covered 
 the table, after having executed a stately dance, expres- 
 sive of their admiration of so beautiful a princess, and 
 of a sovereign so worthy to possess her. Next came 
 Mercury, who related how he had been clever enough 
 to trick Apollo, shepherd of Admetus, and rob him of a 
 fat calf, which he ventured to present to the newly mar- 
 ried pair, after having had it nobly trussed and pre- 
 pared by the best cook on Olympus. While he was 
 placing it upon the table, three quadrilles that followed 
 him danced round the fatted calf, as the Hebrews had 
 formerly capered round that of gold. 
 
 "Diana and her nymphs followed Mercury. It is 
 unnecessary to say that a fanfare of hunting-horns her- 
 alded the entrance of Diana, and accompanied the dance 
 of the nymphs. 
 
 'The music changed its character; lutes and flutes 
 announced the approach of Orpheus. I would recall to 
 the memory of those who might have forgotten it, that 
 at that period they changed their instruments accord-
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 39 
 
 ing to the varying expression of the music played. Each 
 singer, each dancer, had his especial orchestra, which 
 was arranged for him according to the sentiments in- 
 tended to be expressed by his song or his dance. It was 
 an excellent plan, and served to vary the symphonies; 
 it announced the return of a character who had already 
 appeared, and produced a varied succession of trumpets, 
 of violins with their sharp notes, of the arpeggios of 
 lutes, and of the soft melodies of flutes and reed pipes. 
 The orchestrations of Monteverde prove that the com- 
 posers at that time varied their instrumentation thus, 
 and this particular artifice was not one of the least causes 
 of the prodigious success of opera in the first years of 
 its creation. 
 
 "But to return to the singer of Thrace, whom I left 
 standing somewhat too long at the door. He appeared 
 chanting the praises of the Duchess, and accompanying 
 himself on a lyre. 
 
 " 'I wept/ he went on, 'long did I weep on the Apen- 
 nine mount the death of the gentle Eurydice. I have 
 heard of the union of two lovers worthy to live one for 
 the other, and for the first time since my misfortune I 
 have experienced a feeling of pleasure. My songs 
 changed with the feelings of my heart. A crowd of 
 birds fluttered down to listen to me; I seized these im- 
 prudent listeners, and I spitted them all to roast them for 
 the most beautiful princess on earth, since Eurydice is no 
 more/ 
 
 "A sound of brass instruments interrupted the bird- 
 snaring virtuoso; Atalanta and Theseus, escorted by 
 a brilliant and agile troop, represented a boar hunt by 
 means of lively dances. It ended in the death of the boar 
 of Calydon, which they offered to the young Duke, exe-
 
 40 THE DANCE 
 
 cuting a triumphal ballet. Iris, in a chariot drawn by 
 peacocks, followed by nymphs clad in light transparent 
 gauze, appeared on one side, and laid on the table dishes 
 of her own superb and delicate birds. Hebe, bearing 
 nectar, appeared on the other side, accompanied by shep- 
 herds from Arcady, and by Vertumnus and Pomona, who 
 presented iced creams and cheeses, peaches, apples, 
 oranges and grapes. At the same moment the shade of 
 the gastronomer Apicius rose from the earth. The il- 
 lustrious professor came to inspect this splendid banquet, 
 and to communicate his discoveries to the guests. 
 
 "This spectacle disappeared to give place to a great 
 ballet of Tritons and Rivers laden with the most deli- 
 cious fish. Crowned with parsley and watercress, these 
 aquatic deities despoiled themselves of their head- 
 dresses to make a bed for the turbot, the trout, and the 
 perch that they placed upon the table. 
 
 "I know not whether the epicures invited by the host 
 were much amused by these ingenious ceremonies, and 
 whether their tantalised stomachs did not cry out against 
 all the pleasures offered to their eyes and ears; history 
 does not enter into these details. Moreover, Bergonzio 
 de Botta understood too well how to organise a feast 
 not to have put some ballast into his guests in the shape 
 of a copious luncheon, which might serve as a preface, 
 or argument, an introduction if you will, to the dinner 
 prepared by the gods, demigods, Nymphs, Tritons, 
 Fauns and Dryads. 
 
 "This memorable repast was followed by a singular 
 spectacle. It was inaugurated by Orpheus, who con- 
 ducted Hymen and Cupids. The Graces presented Con- 
 jugal Fidelity, who offered herself to wait upon the prin- 
 cess. Semiramus, Helen, Phaedra, Medea and Cleopatra
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 41 
 
 interrupted the solo of Conjugal Fidelity by singing of 
 their own lapses, and the delights of infidelity. Fidelity, 
 indignant at such audacity, ordered these criminal queens 
 to retire. The Cupids attacked them, pursuing them 
 with their torches, and setting fire to the long veils that 
 covered their heads. Something, clearly, was necessary 
 
 BALLET OF THE FOUR PARTS OF THE WORLD: ENTRANCE OF THE GRAND 
 
 KHAN. 
 After an old drawing, Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris. 
 
 to counterbalance this scene. Lucretia, Penelope, Tho- 
 myris, Judith, Portia and Sulpicia advanced, and laid 
 at the feet of the duchess the palms of virtue they had 
 won during their lives. As the graceful and modest 
 dance of the matrons might have seemed a somewhat 
 cold termination- to so brilliant a fete, the author had 
 recourse to Bacchus, Silenus and to the Satyrs, and their 
 follies animated the end of the ballet." 
 
 The entertainment made a sensation. It was at the 
 time of the Renaissance ; the Occidental mind was awak-
 
 42 THE DANCE 
 
 ening after a thousand years of sleep, and craved em- 
 ployment. Taste was being reborn, along with men- 
 tality. The pleasures of contact between minds was be- 
 ing rediscovered; the institution of Polite Society was 
 rapidly finding itself. 
 
 To attempt to repeat the Bergonzio de Botta enter- 
 tainment would have been to invite comparisons ; to sur- 
 pass it in any point but magnitude would have been ex- 
 cessively difficult. Its influence on entertainments that, 
 followed directed itself toward the development of the 
 masque, a form of musical pantomime that remained, 
 through centuries, an indispensable adjunct of festal 
 gatherings in the courts of the Continent and England. 
 The characters in the De Botta production, it will be 
 noted, were, with two or three exceptions, from Greek 
 mythology. This was the culmination of a fashion that 
 had been growing, and is fairly representative of the 
 revival of learning then in progress. It was not until 
 a few years ago that familiarity with classic tradition 
 ceased to be considered a part of the education of a 
 lady or gentleman. There is no reason to believe that 
 the lack of such erudition makes one the less a lady or 
 a gentleman; but its discontinuance is unfortunate for 
 the pantomime ballet. In Greek mythology, both nat- 
 ural manifestations and mental attributes were personi- 
 fied. Not with the completeness of a catalogue, but 
 enough to express a great many points by the mere 
 presence of certain characters. Venus, Minerva, Diana ; 
 Dionysius, Orpheus, Apollo, Mercury all were accepted 
 symbols of certain human qualities. In relegating their 
 acquaintance to the depository of cast-off mental fur- 
 niture, people have failed to create new symbols to take 
 the place of the old. Harlequin and Columbine we have,
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 43 
 
 and a few others. But how many are the figures whose 
 mere entrance, without the interruption of dramatic ac- 
 tion, could be depended upon to introduce definite and 
 recognisable ideas? Pantomime has to be explained on 
 the programme nowadays ; and as nobody gets to his seat 
 until after the auditorium lights are down, the pro- 
 gramme is unread and people complain that the charac- 
 ters lack meaning. Broadly, Modernism has devised 
 for itself an education that teaches it to earn each day 
 the cost of a thousand pleasures, but by which it is 
 robbed of the power to enjoy any one of them. 
 
 Scattered through mediaeval choreographic history are 
 allusions to an employment of chivalry as subject-mat- 
 ter of pantomime. But the idea never seems to have 
 taken root, as is natural enough, considering the rela- 
 tion between dancing and armour and armour was 
 worn by the unfortunate dancers chosen to represent 
 knights. The dance of chivalry was not an influence, 
 and is mentioned only as a choreographic curiosity. 
 
 Bergonzio de Botta's great entertainment, as has been 
 shown, led squarely up to the masque, one of the ballet's 
 immediate forerunners. Meantime the Church's con- 
 tribution to the art was no longer a matter of moralities 
 for the edification of mediaeval rustics ; high dignitaries, 
 proceeding partly under ecclesiastical inspiration and 
 partly under tolerance, were evolving a choro-dramatic 
 form that took no second place to the masque in prepar- 
 ing the way for the art that was to come. Sixteenth- 
 century Rome and Florence saw "sacred representa- 
 tions" in which were utilised the Saltarello [see chapter 
 on Italian dances], the Pavane, the Siciliana, la Gigue, 
 the Gaillarde and la Moresca. The last was accom- 
 panied by heel-tappings, like many of the dances of
 
 44 THE DANCE 
 
 Spain to-day. Its music survives in Monteverde's opera 
 Orfeo, written at the beginning of the seventeenth cen- 
 tury; in other words, music was beginning to be worth 
 while. More important than any other single acquisi- 
 tion, to say the least, was the alliance of some of the 
 monarchs of form and colour to whom half the glory 
 of the Renaissance is due. Of Ariosto's Suppositi, pre- 
 sented in the Vatican in 1518, the decorations were by 
 Raphael. Andrea del Sarto, Brunelleschi and Cecca en- 
 riched with their sacred figures the mimo-dramas played 
 in Florence. In Milan, Leonardo da Vinci lent to the 
 reality and beauty of the religious ballet the palette from 
 which was painted the "Mona Lisa." Furthermore, 
 it is not to be supposed that these and other masters of 
 line, colour and the drama of light were not called to the 
 aid of ballet grouping and movement. The period leaves 
 no record of a great ballet composer or director. It does 
 leave reason to believe, nevertheless, that in grouping 
 and evolution, as well as decoration, music and accesso- 
 ries, these sacred representations lacked nothing to en- 
 title them to a respectable place in the annals of opera 
 ballet. Steps were still primitive, but sufficient unto 
 their day. 
 
 Authorities disagree as to which one of several per- 
 formances is entitled to the recognition due the first 
 presentation of modern ballet. As a matter of accuracy, 
 any decision should be made only after considering ex- 
 actly which of several species of modern ballet is meant. 
 For the organisation of the first ballet spectacle con- 
 forming to the multiple standards of modern excellence, 
 the honour seems to be deserved by Catherine de Medici. 
 True to her family traditions, she took it as an expres- 
 sion of beauty for its own sake, and developed it in ac-
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 45 
 
 cordance with French genius for order and form, as is 
 described in later pages. But the first production of 
 opera ballet, in the sense of a divertissement or inter- 
 mezzo composed to interpret sentiments of dramatic ac- 
 tion that it precedes or follows, the consensus of au- 
 thority attributes to a work of Cardinal Riario, a 
 nephew of Pope Sixtus IV. He composed and staged 
 in Castel San Angelo a number of productions in 
 which the ballet was important, during the latter part 
 of the fifteenth century. Besides Pope Sixtus IV, Alex- 
 ander VI and Leo X were strongly in sympathy with the 
 movement to exalt choreography to its ancient and 
 proper estate. The educated aristocracy of various 
 Italian cities gave it support and protection. Important 
 among these champions was Lorenzo de Medici, with 
 his rare combination of means and scholarly understand- 
 ing of the arts. Savonarola acidly charged him with 
 softening the people by means of pagan spectacles, while 
 Lorenzo went on adapting and composing. 
 
 The Jewish element of Italian society contributed its 
 part to the new art's development. At Mantua, where 
 the Jews formed a numerous colony, they built a theatre 
 on the models of antiquity. Productions were directed 
 by Bernard Tasso, father of the author of Jerusalem 
 Delivered. Torquato himself went in 1573 to produce 
 La Pastorale, which was a feature of a celebration given 
 on the Island of the Belvidere, near Ferrara. 
 
 The ballet entertainment was fashionable; no great 
 event was complete without it as a supplement. The 
 visit of the Duke of Anjou (the future Henry III) to 
 Cracow was the occasion of a fete whose historic im- 
 portance was the discovery of a genius in ballet arrange- 
 ment, Baltarazini, otherwise known as Beaujoyeulx.
 
 4 6 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 Catherine de Medici sent for him to take charge of the 
 choreographic entertainments of the French court, the 
 Marshal de Brissac acting as intermediary. "Baltara- 
 zini dit Beaujoyeulx" had his first great opportunity in 
 1581, on the occasion of the marriage of the Due de 
 Joyeuse. Le Ballet Comique de la Reine was the desig- 
 nation of the offering; it was an addition to the now 
 growing list of tremendous successes. Full details are 
 
 A FOURTEENTH-CENTURY BALL. 
 After detail of an illuminated MS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale. 
 
 recorded in the journal of one L'Estoile, and in L'Art 
 de la Danse by Jean Etienne Despreaux. To repeat 
 them in full is neither .necessary nor possible : the amiable 
 L'Estoile in particular experiences all the delight of a 
 simple soul surrounded by several days' proceedings of 
 which not a single detail is anything less than amazing. 
 The lords and ladies appeared in a fresh costume every 
 day, a new practice of whose extravagance L'Estoile 
 writes with a mixture of awe and disapproval. 
 
 The story of Le Ballet Comique was the mixture of
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 47 
 
 Old Testament story and mythology already familiar. 
 Fountains, artificial fire and aquatic machines lent their 
 several notes of richness and variety. Important from 
 the point of view of the amateur of the ballet is a com- 
 ment on the geometrical precision that governed the bal- 
 let's groupings and corps movements: "d'une rectitude 
 qu' Archintede n'eut pas desavoue." The true and mod- 
 ern note of form in grouping had been struck, and the 
 standard of exactness set that was to become the back- 
 bone of the ballet of later centuries. As the first ar- 
 tistically logical relation of dancing to the sentiment of 
 the whole work had been effected in the "sacred repre- 
 sentations" of Italy, so Le Ballet Comique de la Reine 
 seems to have been the first work of the kind to be pro- 
 duced under a modern (which is to say ancient Greek) 
 understanding of the laws of harmony of line. 
 
 The performance lasted from ten o'clock in the evening 
 until four in the morning. Estimates of its cost range 
 from six hundred thousand to a million dollars (three 
 to five million francs). Of tournaments, presents and 
 numberless other items of the several days' celebration 
 the cost is reckoned apart from that of producing Le 
 Ballet Comique. Apart from lavishness, there is inter- 
 est in the fact that queen and princesses participated. 
 They represented nereids and naiads. 
 
 England, meantime, was in nowise ignoring the ex- 
 ample of Continental neighbours. Pantomimes she had 
 under the names of "mysteries," "dumb-shows" and 
 "moralities" religious, and melodramatic, and vari- 
 ously proportioned mixtures of both. They figure in the 
 history of the English drama, as a source of plots for 
 the early playwright. Though the translation of ges- 
 ture into word filled a want felt by a part of the people,
 
 48 THE DANCE 
 
 it subtracted nothing from the popularity of the masque. 
 Henry VIII was its patron, and occasionally took part in 
 it. Elizabeth carried it on. Francis Bacon, with whom 
 love of stage representation was a passion, wrote plots 
 and dialogue where it was needed. Charles I brought 
 it to a climax of taste and opulence. Inigo Jones of 
 whose high merits as an artist evidences are extant 
 designed decorations. Ben Jonson was accustomed to 
 write the book for important productions. A notable 
 work of collaboration of the two, with the addition of 
 Lawes, the musical composer, was a masque presented 
 at Whitehall by the Inns of Court in 1633. The cost is 
 stated as 21,000. Although a ballet was perhaps the 
 principal feature of the production, its composer is not 
 named in the records. England's failure to credit the 
 original genius may or may not bear some relation to 
 her sterility as a contributor to the dance. With sup- 
 port, both sentimental and material, she has been lavish 
 in the wake of other nations' enthusiasms. Of inven- 
 tion she has given nothing of consequence. We there- 
 fore turn our attention again to France, where history 
 was busy. 
 
 Henry IV was of a happy disposition; the dance in 
 his reign was happy in motive, and healthy in growth. 
 To give time to its practice none was too high in station 
 or serious in mind. Sully, the philosopher, profiting by 
 training given him by the king's sister, played a part in 
 one of the fetes. The journal of L'Estoile mentions the 
 production of eighty new ballets during the twenty-one 
 years of the reign. 
 
 The nature of Louis XIII was taciturn; an influence 
 that caused the ballet to oscillate between the sombre 
 and the trivial. The monarch himself played "The
 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY COURT DANCES 
 Mr. John Murray Anderson and Miss Margaret Crawford 
 
 The Tordion (i, 2) The Pavane (3, 4, 5) 
 
 To face page 48
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 49 
 
 Demon of Fire" in La Delivrance de Renault, in 1617. 
 Of Le Ballet de la Merlaison that he produced in 1635, 
 he composed the dance music. 
 
 A whim of this reign is to the credit of the Duke of 
 Nemours. To contrive a choreographic composition 
 "docile to his rheumatism," he composed in 1630 a Ballet 
 of the Gouty. Meantime the dance was becoming friv- 
 olous, if not licentious. To rectify its shortcomings 
 Richelieu applied himself not to preaching damnations 
 of dancing in general, but to the creation of an allegorical 
 ballet of the sort he thought suitable. Quatre Mon- 
 archies Chretiennes, played in 1635, is a result of his 
 efforts ; "full of pageantry the most opulent and moral- 
 ity the most orthodox," in the words of Robert Brussel. 
 
 The regency of Anne of Austria developed nothing in 
 particular; a delicate character enveloped the dance in 
 conformity to the regent's disposition and taste. But 
 distinct progress was not destined to take place until the 
 reign of Louis XIV, founder of the national ballet acad- 
 emy, perhaps the most helpful patron the dance ever 
 had, and as devoutly enthusiastic an amateur performer 
 as ever lived. He played prominent parts in ballet pan- 
 tomimes to the number of twenty-six. 
 
 The date of the founding of the school, L'Academie 
 Nationale de Musique et de la Danse, is 1661. From 
 that time, through several decades, developments follow 
 with extraordinary rapidity, and in so many different 
 directions that it is impossible to follow them consecu- 
 tively. Great performers begin to appear ; artists whose 
 work enraptures the public by grace of beauty alone, 
 signifying that execution had been awakened. Miles. 
 Prevost and Salle were contemporaries and rivals, each 
 with a great and ardent supporting faction. Of the lat-
 
 50 THE DANCE 
 
 ter's personality, it is of interest that she was a friend 
 of Locke, author of Human Understanding. Her pop- 
 ularity is gauged by her pay for a single performance 
 in London, namely, something over two hundred thou- 
 sand francs. The amount probably includes the con- 
 siderable quantity of gold and jewels thrown to the stage 
 
 Louis XIV (AS "THE SUN") AND A COURTIER (AS "NIGHT") IN THE 
 BALLET OF NIGHT. 
 
 during the performance, for enthusiasm appears to have 
 reached the point of mania. This admiration was won 
 without very rapid movement, Salle believing only in 
 the majestic; or any high or very broad steps, which did 
 not exist in the ballet in her time. To have stirred the 
 public as she did without these resources argues a de- 
 gree of grace and expressiveness less earthly than heav- 
 enly. 
 
 Yet her reputation was to be eclipsed by a girl who 
 was studying during the very hours when Salle was 
 gathering laurels. Camargo was her name. She was
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 51 
 
 born in Brussels, daughter of a dancing master. To 
 natural grace and health she added an inordinate fond- 
 ness for dancing, and eager facility for learning its tech- 
 nicalities. Parental vacillation and educational theories 
 cripple many an artist's career at its beginning. But 
 Camargo's father being a dancing teacher, there was 
 just one thing for the child to do in the natural course 
 of events, and that was to learn to dance. 
 
 At the age of ten, her art attracted the attention of a 
 patroness, and she was sent to Paris to study under Mile. 
 Prevost. In the corps de ballet at the opera she bolted 
 into public notice by joining impulse to accident. One 
 Dumoulin, on a certain occasion, missed his musical cue 
 for entrance to perform a solo. Mile. Camargo leaped 
 from her place and executed the solo to the delight of 
 the audience. Introduced at court, her triumph so af- 
 fected Prevost that she discontinued her pupil's instruc- 
 tion. It was no longer needed. Camargo's genius had 
 carried her beyond the reach of jealousy, or even the ac- 
 tive intrigue that her ex-teacher directed against her. 
 
 Her matrimonial and other social ventures were con- 
 ducted with such an air of candour, and were of such a 
 diversity that they are, above all, amusing. She was a 
 much-petted personage at court, and an esteemed friend 
 of the king. In general she was known "as a model 
 of charity, modesty and good conduct." She was given 
 a maiden's funeral. 
 
 Castil-Blaze writes of her: "She added to distinc- 
 tion and fire of execution a bewitching gaiety that was 
 all her own. Her figure was very favourable to her 
 talent : hands, feet, limbs, stature, all were perfect. But 
 her face, though expressive, was not remarkably beau- 
 tiful. And, as in the case of the famous harlequin,
 
 52 THE DANCE 
 
 Dominique, her gaiety was a gaiety of the stage only. 
 In private life she was sadness itself." 
 
 In a technical sense she may be regarded as the first 
 modern. Her work comprised all that constituted the 
 ballet up to her time ; to the resources that came to her as 
 an artistic heritage she began a process of addition that 
 was to be carried on by successors. She is credited with 
 the invention of the entrechat, for instance; and here 
 many readers will find themselves confronted by the need 
 of some explanation of ballet technique as a means of 
 intelligent discussion of the dancing of modern times. 
 Before that chapter, however, it is not amiss to glance 
 over the old dances from which the ballet, up to the 
 foundation of the Academy in 1661, derived most of its 
 steps. 
 
 The Gavotte, the Minuet, the Pavane, the Saraband, 
 the Tordion, the Bourree, the Passecaille, the Passepied, 
 the Chaconne, the Volte, the Allemande, the Gaillarde, 
 and the Courante these were the dances whose meas- 
 ures were trod by courtiers of the sixteenth and seven- 
 teenth centuries. Among those who have been moved 
 to study these old dances during the past few years to 
 the end of reconstructing them, no one is more fortu- 
 nately equipped for the task than the only resident of 
 America who has applied himself seriously to the sub- 
 ject, Mr. John Murray Anderson. He is at once a 
 dancer, an educated man, and for years a devoted student 
 of the social aspect of western Europe in the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries. A period of months that he 
 recently spent in the choreographic libraries of Europe, 
 and in joint study with others similarly engaged, has 
 resulted in the opportunity to see in America a fine and 
 true representation of the old court steps. With Miss
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 53 
 
 Margaret Crawford, Mr. Anderson posed for the ac- 
 companying photographs of the Gavotte, the Minuet, the 
 Bourree, and the Tordion. The groupings were selected 
 with view to indicating the character of each dance. 
 Collectively they give a good idea of the school of formal- 
 ity in which the French ballet was conceived, and from 
 which it received its determining influences. 
 
 From the beginnings of time, people who give enter- 
 tainments have followed a practice of employing per- 
 formers of dances characteristic of various peoples. 
 With appropriate costume, the danses caracteristiques 
 give a synopsis, or essence, of the picturesque aspect 
 of the people the dancer represents. Sixteenth-century 
 nobility availed itself of the entertainment value of these 
 folk-dances, as Athens did in its golden days and as Lon- 
 don and Newport do to-day. In such manner did French 
 society gather its material for many of the dances that 
 eventually became identified with the ballroom. 
 
 The Gavotte is of such origin. A few generations of 
 languid cultivation refined the life out of it, though it 
 was at first a comparatively active dance. After drop- 
 ping nearly into disuse it was revived and popularised 
 by Marie Antoinette, for whose rendering of it Gluck 
 composed music. After the Revolution, with its paralys- 
 ing influence, the Gavotte was once again revived and 
 revised by Gardel, premier danseur of the Opera, in a 
 composition based on music by Gretry. But this com- 
 position was not of a kind for the execution of any but 
 trained dancers of the stage, Gardel having made it a 
 metier for the exploitation of his own capabilities. 
 Among new elaborations the simple little jumping steps 
 and the easy arabesque that distinguished the Gavotte 
 of earlier days were lost.
 
 54 THE DANCE 
 
 The Tordion is another dance of lively origin. Some- 
 times it was made a vehicle for the grotesque, such as 
 black-face comedy let no one be surprised that the 
 "coon comedian" of to-day is an ancient institution. It 
 was stepped briskly, even in the stately environment of 
 court. The position of the foot with the heel on the 
 floor and the toe up was not adopted by the ballet, but 
 is found in folk or "character" dances in all parts of 
 Europe. 
 
 The Allemande also was a dance of movement ; so was 
 the Volte. In the former the man turns his partner by 
 her raised hand ; in the costume of the time, the whirl is 
 very effective. The Volte is supposed to be the imme- 
 diate ancestor of the Waltz. 
 
 The Saraband came into France from Spain, where 
 it was tremendously popular as la Zarabanda. It dates 
 from the twelfth century, and was praised by Cervantes. 
 Its character justifies the belief that it comes from Moor- 
 ish origins. It is a solo dance making noble use of the 
 arms, and is executed with a plastic relaxation of the 
 body. A distinctly Oriental mannerism is its quick shift 
 of the foot, just as it is placed on the floor, from the cus- 
 tomary position of toeing out to a position of toeing in. 
 The foot-work, moreover, has little more than slow 
 glides. Its exotic qualities, nevertheless, are subordi- 
 nate to its Occidental courtliness; like all the other 
 dances of polite society, it conformed to the etiquette of 
 its time and place, notwithstanding improprieties of 
 which it had been guilty in earlier centuries. 
 
 Marguerite de Valois was fond of the Bourree be- 
 cause, according to tradition, she had an extraordinary 
 natural endowment in the shape of feet and ankles. And 
 the skipping step (related to the modern polka-step)
 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY COURT DANCES 
 
 The Saraband (i) The Allemand (3) The other groups are from the Minuet 
 6 and 5 (in that order) represent the Mirror figure in the Minuet de la Reine 
 
 To face page 54
 
 THE "GAVOTTE" 
 
 To face page 55
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 55 
 
 of the Bourree necessitated the wearing of a shorter 
 skirt than the mode of her day permitted for ordinary 
 use. It never was a rigorously formulated composition, 
 perhaps because it never became very popular at court. 
 It contributed to the ballet the latter's useful pas de 
 bourree, and continues as a diversion of the peasants 
 of Auvergne, where it originated. 
 
 The Passepied was one of a family known as les 
 branles, whose family characteristics are ill defined, de- 
 spite the frequency with which the term is used by sev- 
 enteenth-century writers. In England the word became 
 "brawl." It was the Branle du Haut Barrois in which 
 gentry costumed themselves as the shepherds and 
 shepherdesses perpetuated by Watteau. Another, the 
 Branle des Lavandieres, was based on pantomime of the 
 operations of the laundress. In the Branle des Ermites, 
 monk's dress was worn. In that of the Flambeaux, 
 torches were passed to newly selected partners, as in a 
 present-day cotillion figure; it was a fashionable figure 
 at wedding celebrations. 
 
 Tabourot's amiable hints for the elegant execution of 
 branles probably are not directed at the court. But they 
 are illuminating. "Talk gracefully, and be clean and 
 well shod; be sure that the hose is straight, and that 
 the slipper is clean ... do not use your handkerchief 
 more than is necessary, but if you use it, be sure it is 
 very clean." There is more ; but, after all, why violate 
 illusions ? 
 
 The Chaconne, like the Saraband, came to France 
 from across the Pyrenees. The dance of the Seises in 
 the Seville Cathedral is said to be a Chacona unchanged 
 from its sixteenth-century form. 
 
 The Gaillarde is sometimes grouped with the Tordion,
 
 56 THE DANCE 
 
 from which it differs in the respect that the theme of its 
 steps is little jumps, while the Tordion is, for the most 
 part, glided. One form of it, however, "Si je t'aime ou 
 non," contained some energetic kicks. Indeed, it was 
 of a character to exercise heart and muscle; excellence 
 in some of its steps "was looked upon as an accomplish- 
 ment equal to riding or fencing." To that form of it 
 known as "Baisons-nous Belle" was attached interest 
 of another variety, in the shape of kisses exchanged be- 
 tween partners. "A pleasant variation," comments the 
 venerable Thoinet-Arbeau. A variation employed to 
 prevent monotony in some of the other dances as well, 
 among them the early Gavotte. 
 
 The Courante was one of the more formal dances, 
 never having been popular even in its origin. It was 
 the Courante that was favoured by Louis XIV, during 
 his many years of study under a dancing master. He is 
 credited, before he was overtaken by the demon of adi- 
 posity, with having executed the Courante better than 
 any one else of his time. In style it has been compared 
 to the Seguidillas (q. v.) of Spain. 
 
 Of all, the dances most typical of the formality of the 
 most formal society western civilisation has produced 
 are the Minuet and the Pavane. Both might be char- 
 acterised as variations of deep bows and curtsies. In 
 the Pavane photographs it will be noted that instead of 
 taking hold of her partner's hand, the lady rests her 
 hand on the back of his. 
 
 Hernando Cortez is said to have composed the Pavane 
 (Spanish Pavana) and introduced it in the court of his 
 land on returning from America. If so, he was a solemn 
 person, as well as dignified; to the imposing grace of 
 majesty the dance joins the aloof grandeur of a ritual.
 
 MIDDLE AGES AND RENAISSANCE 57 
 
 These qualities gave to it the office of opening great court 
 functions. Brocades and armour and swords prom- 
 enaded very slowly around the room, each couple mak- 
 ing its reverence to the monarchs before proceeding to 
 the steps of the dance. These were few, simple, and 
 slow; there were many curtsies, retreats and advances, 
 during which last the gentleman led the lady by the up- 
 raised hand, while following her. Poses and groups 
 were held, statue-like, for a space of time that allowed 
 them to impress themselves on the vision. So fond was 
 Elizabeth of England of the Pavane (in writings of 
 her land and period spelled Pavin and otherwise) that 
 it was more than whispered that excellence in its per- 
 formance was more valued than statesmanship as a basis 
 of political favour. 
 
 The Minuet's formality was graded. Le Menuet du 
 Dauphin, le Menuet de la Reine, le Menuet a" Exaudet 
 and le Menuet de la Cour were its four species, the 
 stateliness increasing in the sequence mentioned. The 
 accompanying Minuet photographs of Mr. Anderson and 
 Miss Crawford are of the form de la Reine. The "mir- 
 ror" figure is perhaps its most salient feature a pretty 
 bit of expression accompanying an interlacement of arms 
 whose composition comes as a climax to strikingly in- 
 genious and gracious arm movements. 
 
 The popularity of the Minuet, in its various forms, 
 was practically unlimited; lonely and cheerless indeed 
 must have been the social life of the man who did not 
 dance. After the decline of the Pavane it continued as 
 an inseparable adjunct of gatherings of all degrees of 
 conventionality within the scope of a polite mode of liv- 
 ing. At court balls, at the romping Christmas parties 
 of English country places ; in the remote homes of Vir-
 
 58 THE DANCE 
 
 ginia planters, at governor-generals' receptions, in the 
 palaces of intendants in the far North it saluted, made 
 coquetry with fan and eye, incarnated in gallant fig- 
 ures the brave and reverent spirit of chivalry. Pic- 
 tures represent its performance in home surroundings 
 during daylight ; slight pretext seems to have served as 
 occasion for its performance. In connection with this 
 popularity it must be remembered that, even in its sim- 
 pler forms, so much as a passable execution of the Min- 
 uet was far from easy to acquire. 
 
 Let it be understood that the grand ballet of to-day did 
 not spring full-grown from the dances above enum- 
 erated. Some of their forms continued unchanged 
 through years of academic influence. Present-day "ele- 
 vation," as scope of high and low level is called, the great 
 leaps, great turns, and, in short, most of the dazzling 
 elements of to-day's ballet are the accumulated contribu- 
 tion of individual artists from time to time. Taglioni, 
 of the middle nineteenth century, is the last to add nota- 
 bly to the classic ballet's alphabet of steps. It is not 
 unsafe to say that the next few years will see its range 
 increased: the Russians, avid for new things, have ran- 
 sacked Egyptian carvings and Greek vases. Trained to 
 perfection in the technique and philosophy of their art, 
 they are incorporating intelligently the newly rediscov- 
 ered with the long familiar. But a concrete idea of 
 their relation to the art, or of the art itself, cannot be 
 had without some acquaintance with its actual mechan- 
 ics ; it is time to consider the salient steps on which most 
 Occidental dancing is based, and which the ballet has 
 reduced to perfect definition.
 
 THE name of Camargo, which arose in the first half 
 of the eighteenth century, may be taken as the 
 milestone that marks the progress of dancing into 
 its modern development. Predecessors had brought to it 
 pleasing execution and a good spirit; Camargo appears 
 to have surpassed them in both qualities, and, in addi- 
 tion, to have added immensely to the art's scope both of 
 expression and of technique. Her relation to the dan- 
 cing of her time has been profoundly studied by Mme. 
 Genee, whose fascinating programme of re-creations is 
 the result. After the work attributed to Salle and 
 Prevost, that of the re-created Camargo shows a very 
 striking emancipation from former limitations. Salle 
 and Prevost, charmingly graceful, consummately skil- 
 ful, performed their Dresden-china steps evenly, coolly, 
 in full conformity to the fastidious etiquette of the 
 aristocracy of their day. Camargo, without bruising 
 a petal of the hot-house flower that was her artistic in- 
 heritance, first freed it from a fungus of affectation that 
 others had mistaken for the bloom of daintiness. Then 
 she arranged it to show the play of light and shade, to 
 make it surprising in short, to make it a vehicle of 
 interpretation. 
 
 The material at her disposal, as noted before, was 
 limited. To her advantage in "elevation," she replaced 
 high-heeled shoes with ballet slippers ; she was the first, 
 
 59
 
 60 THE DANCE 
 
 since antiquity, to dance on the toes. Nevertheless her 
 changes of level were not exciting; of big leaps she had 
 none. The day of vivid pirouettes was yet to dawn. 
 Her most extended step was a little ballone. Her entre- 
 chat was almost the only step that raised both her feet 
 distinctly off the floor; it, with petit s battements, gave 
 brilliancy but nothing of grandeur. Hers was a dance 
 of simple and little steps. But they were composed, 
 those steps, with appreciation of the value of contrast. 
 By contrast, movement was made long or short in effect. 
 Movements soft and crisp were juxtaposed. We may 
 believe that Camargo's knowledge of composition com- 
 pensated for the meagre step-vocabulary of her day ; that 
 she commanded cumulative interest, surprise, and cli- 
 max. In short, that she produced an expression ; limited 
 to the lyrical, but none the less real. 
 
 That there may be no risk of misunderstanding the 
 present use of the word "expression," let it be agreed 
 that the word here has the same application that it has 
 in relation to instrumental music; also let it be agreed 
 emphatically that it has nothing to do with the imitation 
 of nature. Wagner makes a composition of tones por- 
 tray the attributes of heroes and gods. Grieg's gnomes 
 are of the same tissue: suggested attributes as distin- 
 guished from specified facts of the concrete. Broadly, 
 such suggestion is called music. For present clearness 
 let it be known as music of the ear. Because, the very 
 same mental sensations produced by rhythm and sound 
 variously juxtaposed and combined, acting through the 
 medium of hearing, are susceptible of stimulation by 
 means of rhythm and line, in suitable juxtapositions and 
 combinations, acting through the medium of vision. It 
 follows that dancing, in effect, is music of the eye. The
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 61 
 
 familiar musical resources serve both choreographer 
 and composer impartially. As will be understood be- 
 fore the reading of this chapter is completed, the equiva- 
 lent of long and short notes is found in steps of varying 
 length; musical phrases are, to the mind, the same as 
 step-combinations, or enchainements ; argument toward 
 expression of motive is as possible to the silent music 
 as to music of the ear. Indeed the values of the several 
 orchestral instruments have their parallels in steps ; the 
 light staccato of the clarinet is no more playful than are 
 certain delicate steps executed sur les point es, nor is the 
 blare of brass more stirring than the noble renverse. 
 The scope of expression, in short, that is attainable by 
 the orchestra is identical with that within range of pure 
 dancing dancing without pantomime. Add panto- 
 mime, and in effect you add to your music the explana*- 
 tory accompaniment of words. Broadly, music is senti- 
 ment, while the words of a song are supplementary 
 description. In the ballet, the dance, as such, is the 
 sentiment (or its representation), the pantomime the 
 accompanying description. 
 
 Added expression in this musical sense was among 
 Camargo's contribution to the art, definitely restoring to 
 it a quality it had held in a grasp at best precarious since 
 the passing of the glory of Athens. Belief in panto- 
 mime rises and recedes from one decade to another. 
 But purely orchestral or aesthetic expression continues at 
 all times (with interruptions) as the fundamental intent 
 of the classic French and Italian ballets. To demand 
 that the figures in a composition conceived in this idea 
 should act and look like the people of every-day life, 
 owing to the mere coincidence of their being human be- 
 ings, would be like asking the composer of Pagliacci to
 
 62 THE DANCE 
 
 rewrite his score to include the sound of squeaking 
 wheels, because of the latter's pertinence to the wagon of 
 the strolling players represented in the opera. The func- 
 tion of the composer of the opera is to suggest by such 
 tonal symbols as have been found effective, the various 
 emotions undergone by his characters. Identically, the 
 function of the ballet-master is to suggest by the count- 
 less combinations of line majestic and playful, severe 
 and gracious and by the infinite variety of movements 
 and postures, the emotions he would arouse in the spec- 
 tators of his work. At his disposal he has a number 
 of plastic, sentient and sympathetic figures, trained to 
 movements of grace. They are the instruments of his 
 orchestra, the paint on his palette. That they also are 
 human beings is absolutely a coincidence and beside the 
 point. 
 
 Pantomime, to be sure, is carried to a high develop- 
 ment in both French and Italian academies ; they present 
 mimo-dramas calling for practically unlimited scope of 
 expression. Pantomime they added to the dance with- 
 out departure from the ballet's basic intent. Both 
 schools well know that the introduction of one pose or 
 gesture imitating an act of human life, automatically 
 throws the work into another category; that which was 
 purely interpretative mural decoration verges toward the 
 story-telling picture. 
 
 The argument is put rather insistently because of the 
 periodical complaint that the ballet "looks artificial." 
 "In real life," people say, "you never see hands held as 
 they are held in the ballet." Mother of all the muses, 
 why should they be? In real life hands are doctoring 
 fountain pens, hewing wood and drawing water, reach- 
 ing out for things ; in real life hands are concerned with
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 63 
 
 their practical occupation, and quite disregardful of their 
 grace or expression while so engaged. Whereas the 
 ballet uses hands as the vehicle for lines of grace, exalta- 
 tion, vivacity, or whatever emotion you will, expressed 
 in terms of the abstract. It is the same in regard to 
 work on the toe: in real life people have no occasion to 
 walk on the tip ends of their feet, because as a means of 
 locomotion it is inconvenient. The ballet's use of it is 
 not based on a belief in the minds of ballet-masters that 
 it is a fashion either in polite society or among nymphs 
 of the primeval forest. The position "on the point" 
 makes possible an agreeable change in elevation, and can 
 instantaneously eliminate the appearance of avoirdupois. 
 The ballet art is a convention, strictly; the figures in it 
 are changing units of a moving design, and not people. 
 A ballerina does not ask, "How do I look in this pose ?" 
 She asks, "What kind of a line does this pose make?" 
 
 Of late years the classic ballet has suffered from pub- 
 lic indifference. Doubtless this has been due in part to 
 an insufficiency of competent performers; a great work 
 requires great execution, and the difficulties created by 
 the ballet's ideals are tremendous. But failure on the 
 part of the public to consider the ballet's intent has cer- 
 tainly contributed to an unsatisfactory state of its af- 
 fairs. 
 
 A general acquaintance with the individual steps adds 
 in various ways to the spectator's enjoyment. Relieved 
 of effort to decipher a dancer's means and methods, 
 he who understands the mechanics of the steps can 
 surrender himself to a luxuriance in their grace of 
 execution, and be the more susceptible to the hypnotic 
 charm of the rhythmic movement playing upon his 
 eye. To him who has taken the trouble to learn some
 
 64 THE DANCE 
 
 of the elemental theories, that which was once a be- 
 wildering maze of movement, which he mentally scram- 
 bled to follow, becomes an ordered and deliberate se- 
 quence, whose argument he follows with ease ; instead of 
 a kaleidoscope, he sees phrasing, repetition, and progress 
 of interest, theme, enrichment and climax. With bits 
 of special virtuosity he is instantly gratified; shortcom- 
 ings he instantly detects. To communicate his observa- 
 tions he has a vocabulary of specific expression; and 
 there is satisfaction in that, for a ballet performance is 
 just as fruitful a subject of controversy among its con- 
 noisseurs as a new novel among its readers. Further- 
 more, the need of a general power of expression as an 
 essential to the betterment of American choreographic 
 conditions is self-evident. 
 
 While the ensuing analysis of ballet steps is far from 
 complete from the point of view of the academy, it should 
 give the reader a comprehension of the steps that make 
 an impression on the layman's eye. The material that 
 follows is selected with that end in view. Some descrip- 
 tion of simple fundamentals, though not in themselves 
 "showy/' is included in order to facilitate analysis of the 
 great steps and turns. Moreover, since character dan- 
 cing includes nothing of technical note that is not also 
 used in the ballet, it is confidently hoped that the sub- 
 joined analysis will serve as a useful lens through which 
 to look at dancing of all kinds. 
 
 Those whose interest in the subject leads them to seek 
 a more complete knowledge are referred to Zorn, Gram- 
 mar of the Art of Dancing; by means of his choreo- 
 graphic stenography he goes into sub-variations of bal- 
 let steps with the utmost exactness. Naturally a course 
 of instruction under a good ballet teacher is best of all;
 
 MME. ADELINE GENEE, AND M. ALEXANDER VOLININE 
 
 Ballet, Robert le Diable Butterfly Dance 
 
 Pierrot and Columbine
 
 Photos by Mishkin, N. Y. 
 
 MME. GENEE IN HISTORICAL RE-CREATIONS AND M. VOLININE 
 Salle (i) The Waltz (2) Camargo (3) Guimard (4)
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 65 
 
 theory is best understood by its application. And execu- 
 tion, it should go without saying, is acquired only by 
 long practice under expert and watchful eyes. 
 
 Before considering actual movements, it must be borne 
 in mind that separately they are incomplete. Like tones 
 that unite to form chords of music, each in itself may 
 seem lacking in richness. Interdependence of succes- 
 sive parts is more marked in the classic ballet than in 
 any other great school of choreography. The dance of 
 the Moor is a series of statues, each self-sufficient. Of 
 the ballet movements, almost the reverse is true. Their 
 magic comes of the flow of one unit into another. 
 
 As France is the mother and nurse of the ballet, it 
 follows that French is its language. Few of the terms 
 translate successfully. To rename the movements would 
 be superfluous and in practical use, worse; for a big 
 corps de ballet is often a gathering from many nations. 
 Being explicit and sufficient, the French terms are the 
 accepted designation of the steps in all lands where the 
 ballet is danced. 
 
 To describe steps with precision, it is necessary to use 
 a system of choro-stenography not easily learned, or to 
 refer to positions of the feet. The latter is the usual 
 method, and long usage proves its adequacy. The fol- 
 lowing arbitrary designation of positions of the feet has 
 long been standard wherever Occidental dancing is 
 taught : 
 
 Simple positions one to five, inclusive, are the funda- 
 mentals, which are modified in a great variety of ways. 
 Figures 6 and 7 represent instances of such modifica- 
 tion. 
 
 The weight may be upon both feet, or either. 
 
 In third, fourth and fifth positions : speaking of either
 
 66 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 & 
 
 345 
 FUNDAMENTAL POSITIONS OF THE FEET. 
 
 Fig. I, first position; 2, second position; 3, third position; 4, 
 position; 5, fifth position; 6, open fourth position; 7, crossed 
 oositioiL 
 
 fourth 
 fourth 
 
 foot (say the right) it is said to be in anterior or pos- 
 terior third, fourth or fifth position. 
 
 Second and fourth positions are defined as closed or 
 amplified, according as the feet are separated by the 
 length of a foot, or more. 
 
 The positions, unless otherwise specified, indicate both 
 feet on the floor. But the second, third and fourth posi- 
 tions sometimes relate to positions in which one foot is 
 raised; for instance, right foot in raised second posi- 
 tion. 
 
 The same designations apply whether the feet be flat 
 on the floor, on the ball, on the point, or a composite of 
 these : as for instance, second position, right foot on the 
 point, left foot flat, etc. 
 
 Heights are definitely divided; ankle, calf and knee 
 serve as the measures. But as the subjoined explana- 
 tions are aided by diagrams, the terms to measure 
 heights may be disregarded for the sake of simplicity. 
 Likewise we need not go into the enumeration and 
 names of crossed positions and other complications. 
 The five fundamental positions, however, are important
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 67 
 
 and should be memorised. Apart from their importance 
 in any discussion of ballet work, familiarity with them 
 greatly aids the acquisition of ballroom dances. (The 
 latter place the feet at an angle of 45 to the line in 
 which the dancer's body faces, instead of 90, the form 
 of the French-Italian ballet.) 
 
 The school of the ballet also defines the positions of 
 the arms, in the same manner. They need not be mem- 
 orised as a preliminary to reading this chapter ; but they 
 are interesting as a matter of record of the limitations 
 of the classic school, and as a measure of the distance 
 to which the Russians have departed in the direction of 
 freedom of arm movement. 
 
 8 9 10 ii 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 
 
 POSITIONS OF THE ARMS. 
 
 Figure 8, arms in repose, sustained ; 9, extended ; 10, rounded in front of 
 the chest; n, rounded above the head; 12, high and open; 13, a la 
 lyre; 14, on the hips; 15, 16, one arm high, one extended; 18, one 
 arm rounded in front of the c'hest, one open horizontal; 17, 19, one 
 arm high, one on the hip. 
 
 Steps, which are now to be considered, fall naturally 
 into the classes of gliding, beating, turning and jumping. 
 Each class ranges from simplicity to more or less com- 
 plexity, and certain steps have a composite character, 
 partaking of the nature of more than one of the above 
 general classes. 
 
 Dancers distinguish between a step and a temps, 
 whose relation to each other is that between a word and 
 a syllable. A temps is a single movement. By defini-
 
 68 THE DANCE 
 
 tion, a step must effect a transfer of weight; subject to 
 that definition, a single movement may be a step. 
 
 The simple gliding step is the pas glisse. It is exe- 
 cuted by gliding the foot along the floor. It may move 
 in any direction. Used as indicated in figures 20, 21 
 and 22, the step becomes a glissade. 
 
 20 21 
 
 "GLISSADE." 
 
 The essential gliding feature of the step is indicated in the movement of 
 the left foot along the floor, figure 21. 
 
 A chasse, in effect, "chases" one foot from its place 
 by means of a touch from the other. For instance: 
 the feet are in second position, weight on the right foot ; 
 bring the left foot sharply up to this position behind the 
 right foot; at, the instant of contact, let the right foot 
 glide sharply out to second position on the right side. 
 The step also may be executed toward the front or 
 toward the rear. It keeps both feet on the floor. 
 
 Executing a series of chasse s: simple chasse s com- 
 mence the step, each repetition, with the same foot. 
 Alternating chasses are begun with each foot in 
 turn. 
 
 A coupe is analogous to a chasse; but the foot that 
 is displaced leaves the floor and goes to more or less 
 height in the air. Both coupe and chasse give an impres- 
 sion of one foot kicking the other out of place.
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 69 
 
 23 24 25 
 
 "ASSEMBLED" 
 See figure 26. 
 
 An assemble, starting with the feet in fifth position, 
 effects a reversal of their position. Example (see dia- 
 gram) : the left foot is behind. A little jump upward 
 raises both feet from the floor. Kick out with the left 
 foot to the left, bring it back to fifth position in front of 
 the right foot, at the moment of alighting. The right 
 foot, instead of the left, will degage, or "wing out," in 
 the next step, if the step is repeated. 
 
 A changement is similar to an assemble; its difference 
 is in the fact that it causes both feet to "beat." 
 
 26 27 
 
 "ASSEMBLE." "CHANGEMENT." 
 
 Each diagram shows two performances of its step. Both steps take both 
 feet off the floor. In the assemble, one foot remains passive. In 
 the changement, both are active. 
 
 A releve consists of a simultaneous (a) rise to the ball 
 or point of the supporting foot, while the active foot is 
 raised to the height (usually) of the knee of the sup-
 
 70 THE DANCE 
 
 porting leg. The active foot usually is kept close to the 
 supporting leg. 
 
 This step furnishes an interesting example of the 
 changes wrought by the Russians. The classic turn- 
 out of the foot confines the movement of the active leg 
 to a plane cutting the performer laterally; i. e., as the 
 classic performer advances en relevant toward the spec- 
 tator, the legs' movements are seen to have their exten- 
 sion out to the sides. Whereas the Russian "toes out" 
 (with exceptions) at a much smaller angle. His knees 
 therefore may rise in front of him; in which case the 
 step, as seen by the spectator, is most effective while the 
 performer crosses the stage from side to side. It is 
 made the thematic step of some of the new Russian 
 dance-poems of Greek nature. It is executed sharply, 
 lightly. 
 
 An echappe moves the feet from closed to second 
 position by means of moving both feet simultaneously 
 outward. 
 
 28 29 30 31 32 
 
 "JETL" 
 
 Essentials: both feet off the floor simultaneously, and receipt of the 
 descending weight on one foot. 
 
 The jete is a step that is simple in principle, at the same 
 time subject to so wide a range of use that it creates 
 the most varied effects. Essentially, it is the step that 
 is used in running. 
 
 The jete also may be executed to the side a cote.
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 71 
 
 From its use in that manner it is easy to understand its 
 employment as a means of turning in the air : i. e., with 
 both feet off the floor. The jete en tournant is one of 
 the much-used means of producing an effect of big, easy 
 sweep; it lends itself to the embellishment of any one of 
 several beating steps pas battus; or others, yet to be 
 described. 
 
 33 34 35 
 
 "JETE" TO THE SIDE. 
 
 Of the "beating" type of step, the fundamental is the 
 battement: a beating movement of the free leg, the sup- 
 porting leg remaining stationary. The accent is not on 
 the up-stroke, as in a kick, but sharply on the down- 
 stroke. The beats may be made from side, front, or 
 (less usually) back. The foot may be raised to the 
 height of the head (though it is not often done), to hori- 
 zontal, to the height of the knee, or the distance of a 
 foot's length away from the supporting leg. Executed 
 with a straight knee, the movement is a grand battement. 
 A petit battement is action of the lower leg only, working 
 from the knee as a stationary pivot, while the foot strikes 
 the supporting ankle, calf, or knee. It is a movement 
 designed for brilliancy, and should be executed rapidly. 
 With practice it can be carried to such a degree of speed 
 that the active foot seems to shimmer. It is the basic 
 step of Scotch dances. Modified to allow the sole of the
 
 72 THE DANCE 
 
 active foot to touch the floor, it provides the shuffle-step 
 of the Irish Jigs and Reels. Petits battements, it should 
 be added, are usually employed in a sequence of several 
 in succession. 
 
 38 
 
 "BATTEMENTS." 
 Petit battement, 37. Grand battement, 38. 
 
 Correctly speaking, a battement does not constitute a 
 step, but a temps. 
 
 The cabriole is a development of the battement. In 
 the latter, only one leg is active ; it leaves the supporting 
 leg, and rejoins it. The cabriole is executed with both 
 feet in the air; both legs act in the beating movement, 
 rapidly separating and coming together, but not cross- 
 ing. 
 
 A further development of the same theme brings us 
 to the gem which, of the ballet's entire collection, is the 
 most dazzling : the entrechat. Instead of merely bring- 
 ing the legs together, as in the cabriole, it uses a jump 
 as the occasion for repeatedly crossing the feet. Cleanly 
 done, it is as the sparkle of a humming-bird. 
 
 The word is derived from the Italian intrecciare, to 
 weave or braid. The French compound it with numer- 
 als, to indicate the number of times the feet cross: as, 
 entrechat-quatre, entrechat-six, entrechat-huit. The 
 number includes the movements of each foot; an entre- 
 chat-huit implies four crossings. Prodigious stories are 
 told about the number of beats that various artists have
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 73 
 
 accomplished in their entrechat. It forms an attractive 
 centre for choreographic myths. In general, the num- 
 ber of beats said to have been accomplished by a given 
 artist is in direct ratio to the number of years that artist 
 has been dead. In reality there is small object in going 
 beyond an entrechat-six; the three crossings (always 
 assuming performance by a master of the technique) are 
 quite sufficient to prove that the law of gravity has ceased 
 to exist. When their staccato twinkle is added as a fin- 
 
 40 41 42 
 
 STEPS OF THE "BATTEMENT" TYPE. 
 
 Changement, 39; entrechat-quatre, 40; brise dessus, 41; brise dessous, 42. 
 In the brise dessus, the active foot beats in front of the passive foot; 
 in the brise dessous, behind it. 
 
 ish to the long pendulum swing of a big glissade, or a 
 long jete en tournant, the effect is that of a swift piz- 
 zicato following a long-sustained note always surpris- 
 ing, always merry. 
 
 The brise is of the category of movements executed 
 while both feet are off the floor. It is so closely related 
 to the entrechat-quatre that the layman who can dis- 
 tinguish between the two, during the speed of perform- 
 ance, may conscientiously congratulate himself on having 
 developed a passably quick and sure eye. The differ- 
 ence between the two lies in this : that in the brise only 
 one foot really "beats"; the other makes only a slight 
 complementary or counter-movement. Starting as it
 
 74 THE DANCE 
 
 does in an open position, it lends itself to the embellish- 
 ment of broad leaps. 
 
 The ballone is, in a broad sense, related to the beating 
 steps; its accent, however, is on the up-stroke, which 
 makes it a kick. Start in third position; plies slightly 
 (as preparation) ; jump, and simultaneously kick for- 
 ward, bending the knee in raising the leg, straightening 
 it when it has reached the necessary height ; usually the 
 ballone leads into another step. 
 
 (As this description is at variance with that of two 
 eminent choreographic writers, it should be added that 
 it is made from the step as demonstrated and explained 
 by Sr. Luigi Albertieri, ballet-master of the Century 
 Opera Company, an unquestioned authority; his tradi- 
 tions are those of La Scala, and of Sr. E. Cecchetti. 
 Mile. Louise La Gai, former pupil of Leo Staats, one- 
 time ballet-master of 1'Opera, demonstrates the step in 
 the same manner.) 
 
 A phrase of steps (enchainement) is rarely made up 
 of big or difficult steps exclusively; the value of the lat- 
 ter would soon be lost in monotony were they not con- 
 trasted with work of a simpler nature. The pas de 
 bourree and the pas de Basque are among the little steps 
 useful in furnishing such contrasts, in giving the dancer 
 a renewed equilibrium, and in the capacity of connecting 
 links between other steps. They are like prepositions 
 in a sentence insufficient in themselves, but none the 
 less indispensable. 
 
 The pas de bourree (the name is taken from an old 
 French dance) is essentially the familiar polka-step late 
 of the ballroom, with varied applications. Forward, 
 backward or to the side, it "covers stage" or gives the 
 dancer progress in a given direction. It furnishes a
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 75 
 
 means of turning, or preserving the continuity of a dance 
 while the performer keeps his place. Always it is use- 
 ful as a filler when interest is to be directed away from 
 the foot-work in such case, for instance, as when the 
 hands have important pantomime. 
 
 The pas de Basque is of similar value, but commits the 
 dancer to a swinging movement from side to side. Like 
 the pas de bourree it is an alternating step, with one foot 
 on the floor all the time, and executed without much 
 "elevation" i. e., variety of level. It runs through 
 many of the dances of Spain, and presumably is, as its 
 name suggests, a native of the Basque provinces. Prob- 
 ably, too, it is a remote ancestor of the Waltz. 
 
 43 
 
 44 
 
 "FoUETTi." 
 
 In contrast to the sharp, dry quality of the beating 
 steps is the fluid, swinging fouette. Its many variations 
 conform to the principles indicated in the diagram fig- 
 ures 43 to 46. 
 
 The word "fouette" means literally, whip; the move- 
 ment, a swing with a snap at the finish, is well named. 
 A relaxed manner of execution gives it a feeling of
 
 7 6 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 pliancy, while lightness is preserved by the smart termi- 
 nation. 
 
 Start with a pile of both knees, for preparation; 
 sharply lift the active leg sidewise to horizontal (i. e., 
 raised second position) ; snap the lower leg back, in a 
 movement curving downward, to the crossed leg posi- 
 tion in figure 46. There it is prepared to enter into 
 another step, or to lead to an arabesque, or to continue 
 
 1L 
 
 50 
 
 48 49 
 
 START OF A "FOUETTE PIROUETTE." 
 Figures 47-50 inclusive serve also to describe a developpe. 
 
 to finish in third or fifth position of the feet. The body 
 has remained facing the spectator. 
 
 Now, let it be understood that a pirouette is a turn, or 
 spin, on one foot only, or else in the air. One species of 
 pirouette is made in conjunction with the fouette, the 
 body being permitted to turn with the impulse of the 
 leg's backward sweep. The making of a pirouette, how- 
 ever, requires its own preparations, as shown in the first 
 four figures of the diagram. In figure 47 the legs are 
 plies. Figures 48, 49 and 50 represent a developpe, 
 or unfolding a device of frequent use in the pres- 
 ent conditions, namely, the need of bringing the active 
 leg to horizontal in preparation for a step. The exten-
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 77 
 
 sion of the arms as indicated enables them to give a 
 vigourous start to the revolving movement ; the leg, by a 
 sharp sweep "outward," contributes to the same impulse. 
 The turn started, the fouette is executed as it proceeds. 
 The free foot drops to position behind the supporting 
 leg. But note that as the body continues turning, the 
 foot changes from position behind to position in front; 
 very simple, in performance very effective and until 
 
 Si 52 53 
 
 "FOUETTE PIROUETTE," CONTINUED. 
 
 Right leg sweeps "out" in horizontal plane (51) continuing as in 52, 
 turning the body with its revolution. As the body completes the 
 turn from 52 to 53, the right foot is brought to crossed position in 
 front of the ankle. 
 
 understood, puzzling in its illusion of winding up and 
 unwinding. It is permissible, in the position of figure 
 52, to drop to the heel of the supporting foot, for a mo- 
 mentary renewal of equilibrium; but there is merit in 
 going through without that aid. The position at finish 
 leaves the dancer prepared to repeat the tour, which can 
 be done an indefinite number of times in succession; to 
 continue into an arabesque (figures 55, 56) ; or to enter 
 a different step. 
 
 Among the variations of the above typical fouette 
 pirouette is its execution "in" instead of "out" : that is, 
 to sweep the active leg across in front of the supporting
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 leg, to start the turn, instead of raising it out to the side. 
 Again using the left foot as support, the turn of the 
 body is now toward the left, instead of toward the right 
 as when the step is executed "out." The active foot 
 arrives at its position of crossing the supporting leg when 
 it has described a half-circle. 
 
 Tradition makes the fouette pirouette a step for men, 
 although it is not intrinsically less feminine than any 
 other of the great steps. Nevertheless, tradition is often 
 a thing to respect. So, a fouette pirouette performed by 
 
 55 56 
 
 OPTIONAL FINISH OF A "FOUETT PIROUETTE." 
 Continues (55) into arabesque (56). 
 
 a woman is customarily called a rond de jambe tour. 
 Mile. Zambeli, the premiere of TOpera in Paris, has on 
 occasion performed a succession of thirty-two such turns 
 in a steadily accelerating tempo. The result, instead of 
 monotony, is a cumulative excitement little short of over- 
 powering. 
 
 The fouette pirouette leads into the subject of pirou- 
 ettes in general. By their common definition, they are 
 turns made on one supporting foot only, or without sup- 
 port (i. e., turns in the air). The definition serves to
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 79 
 
 distinguish a true pirouette from a turn made by means 
 of alternating steps, such as a pas bourree turn. 
 
 The purest example of pirouette is that performed "on 
 the crossed ankle" sur le cou-de-pied. (Figures 57 
 to 6 1.) This turn is made without the aid of im- 
 pulse from either leg after the free foot goes into its 
 position, in distinction from the fouette pirouette, for 
 instance, in which the active leg's movement in the air 
 furnishes the motive power by which the body is turned. 
 
 The pirouette sur le cou-de-pied here diagrammed is 
 
 a 
 
 58 59 60 
 
 THE "PIROUETTE SUR LE COU-DE-PIED." 
 
 Figures 57, 58, 59, preparation ; 60 represents the completion of the turn, 
 and the position the feet have occupied during the act of turning; 
 61, finish. 
 
 according to the specifications of Herr Otto Stoige, bal- 
 let-master and dancing teacher at the University of 
 Konigsberg, as quoted by Zorn. Raise the arms and 
 the active leg (figure 58). Drop the active foot to ante- 
 rior fourth position (figure 59), plie, and at the same 
 time dispose the arms to give the twisting impulse to the 
 body. The same impulse is aided by the sharp straight- 
 ening of the left leg, coming into position as support. 
 The arms drop (figure 60) as the free foot is placed sur 
 le cou-de-pied of the supporting leg. Comparing the 
 finish (figure 61) with figure 57, it is seen that the feet
 
 8o THE DANCE 
 
 have resumed third position but exchanged places. In 
 making the turn, the face is turned away from the spec- 
 tator as short a time as possible. 
 
 The ability to do a double turn in this form is not 
 rare, and a few men make it triple. The Prussian Stull- 
 mueller brought it to seven revolutions. An amusing 
 conventionality of gender in pirouettes makes it man's 
 prerogative to do the pirouette en I' air i. e., with 
 both feet off the floor. This too is doubled by some of 
 the men now dancing: Leo Staats, formerly of 1'Opera 
 in Paris, is said to triple it ! 
 
 63 
 
 VARIOUS "PIROUETTES." 
 A la seconde, 60; en attitude, 61 ; en arabesque, 62. 
 
 A pirouette of this sort is one of the few pas that have 
 a value independent of what precedes and follows; it is 
 a beautiful thing by itself. In combination it gives a 
 feeling of ecstasy; or, in other conditions, of happy ec- 
 centricity. A few years ago Angelo Romeo used it as 
 the theme of his solo in a Ballet of Birds (under Fred 
 Thompson's management, the New York Hippodrome 
 staged some real ballets). As King of the Birds, Romeo 
 gave his part a gallantry at once amusing and brilliant 
 by the reiteration of double pirouettes as a refrain.
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 81 
 
 Between the two extremes of fouette pirouette and 
 pirouette sur le cou-de-pied lie such a variety of manners 
 of turning that experts fail to agree on any definition of 
 the word "pirouette," more explicit than the one already 
 given. A half-turn sur le cou-de-pied, pas de bour- 
 ree, and complete the turn with a fouette: there, 
 for instance, is a turn that is a pirouette or not, accord- 
 ing to arbitrary definition. There are half as many sub- 
 varieties of pirouette and other turns as there are solo 
 dancers. Turns of mixed type, partaking of the natures 
 of both pure pirouette and the rond de jambe character 
 of movement, are known collectively as pirouettes com- 
 posees. 
 
 A rond de jambe, it should be explained parenthetic- 
 ally, is a circle described by the foot. A grand rond de 
 jambe is a circle (in any plane) described by the straight 
 leg. A petit rond de jambe is made by the lower leg, 
 working from a stationary knee as pivot. Cf. grands 
 and petits battements. 
 
 As the pirouette sur le cou-de-pied has its virtue of 
 sparkle, its cousin the renverse is endowed with a species 
 of bewildering, bacchanalian ecstasy. Words and dia- 
 grams fail to convey an impression of its qualities ; but 
 analysis of its mechanics is worth while, in order that it 
 may be recognised when seen, and not allowed to pass 
 without yielding its full and due pleasure to him who 
 sees it. 
 
 Preceding the position indicated in figure 65, the 
 dancer, placing his weight on the left foot, has raised 
 the right foot in a developpe forward, and around on a 
 horizontal plane "outward." Figure 65 shows the right 
 foot at a point that may be conveniently designated as 
 the quarter-circle. In figure 66 the right foot continues
 
 82 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 to sweep back, and the body begins to lean forward or 
 away from the active leg. This lean of the body has be- 
 come more pronounced in figure 67, in which the active 
 foot has reached the three-quarter circle. Note the 
 sweep of the left hand accelerating the movement of the 
 turn, and its continuance through the remaining figures. 
 
 65 66 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE "RENVERSE." 
 
 A developpe has preceded the position in figure 65, as indicated in verti- 
 cal dotted line. The body begins to turn as the active foot completes 
 a half-circle (66). In 67, note that the body leans forward. 
 
 Up to the position in figure 68 the body has leaned 
 forward or in other words, has been chest down. In 
 figure 69 it is seen chest up. Figure 68 is the inter- 
 mediate position. In performance the turn-over takes 
 place so quickly that only a trained eye sees just when it 
 is done. 
 
 The right foot touches the floor at the point of com- 
 pleting the half-circle. The body continues leaning 
 back, straightening up in figure 70 after describing a 
 round body-sweep started in figure 69. Figure 70 finds 
 the weight on the right foot ; the left is raised on the first 
 temps of a pas de bourree, very quick, which brings the
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 83 
 
 feet to fifth position as in figure 71. The right-hand- 
 sweep upward, meantime, has been continuous. 
 
 Another variation of the pirouette is based on the 
 rond de jambe described on a previous page. The rond 
 de jambe pirouette is executed with the aid and embel- 
 lishment of a horizontal leg. It usually starts with a 
 developpe, like the fouette tour. A pirouette a la seconde 
 
 69 70 7i 
 
 THE "RENVERSE" CONCLUDED. 
 
 Figures 68 and 69 trace the over-turning of the body, without interrup- 
 tion to the movement of rotation. A rapid pas de bourree intervenes 
 between 70 and 71. 
 
 is so called by reason of the active foot's continuance in 
 raised second position. If the heel is touched at the 
 half-circles for equilibrium, the turns can be continued 
 ad libitum. Still another tour is the pirouette en ara- 
 besque, the pose being entered into (usually) on comple- 
 tion of a half-circle of a rond de jambe tour, the revolu- 
 tion being kept continuous while the necessary changes 
 are made in the position of the body. A turn in the air 
 that may be included among pirouettes is a jete en 
 tournant; and it may be adorned with an entrechat, a 
 brise, or whatever "beats" may suit the artist's taste and 
 abilities.
 
 8 4 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 The words "arabesque" and "attitude" do not refer to 
 steps, but to postures. Their composition is as exactly 
 defined as that of any step. Figure 56 shows a typical 
 arabesque. 
 
 The developpe above referred to is a usual means of 
 bringing a leg to horizontal, as a preliminary to fur- 
 
 r/V 
 
 72 73 
 
 Two FORMS OF "ATTITUDE." 
 
 Open (ouverte') 72; crossed (croise) 73. The position of the support- 
 ing leg is the same in both. 
 
 ther work. It is the opening step of many a dance-poem, 
 and a pretty accurate index of the class of work to fol- 
 low. If the leg rises without hurry or faltering, and 
 unfolds with its proper sense of proud elegance; if al- 
 ways the body keeps the serene relaxation that accom- 
 panies only the perfection of equilibrium, there is com- 
 ing a feast for the gods. Far from the least of Genee's 
 manifestations of virtuosity is the legato poise of her en- 
 trance stepping down from a picture frame : so deliberate
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 85 
 
 and even is her developpe that the eye at first fails to 
 discern movement, as though it were watching the open- 
 ing of a morning glory. Never the twitch of a muscle, 
 never an impulse of hurry, never the suspicion of hesi- 
 tation through bar after bar of music, the ethereal one 
 makes that first step reverence-compelling in its incred- 
 ible beauty of movement. 
 
 Analogous to the developpe in execution is the pas de 
 cheval, the latter, however, serving to change the dan- 
 cer's place on the floor. It is proud, strong, triumphant ; 
 used in an advance of a corps de ballet toward the spec- 
 tator, the motive of dominance is strongly felt. Though 
 effective, it is not one of the structural parts, like the 
 steps heretofore described. It is, rather, a decorative 
 unit superadded. The same may be said of the pas 
 de chat, which is a jerky, short and very rapid simple 
 alternating step; bending the knees sharply, but not 
 bringing them high; the feet crossing at each step. It 
 is not the physical locomotion of a cat, but it is a good 
 interpretation of the spirit of an especially capricious 
 one. It expresses well the idea of witchcraft or mis- 
 chievous spirits. 
 
 Going to the extreme contrast of this step, a fortissimo 
 effect is attained by the male dancer's form of extended 
 jump. It is necessarily high; but it emphasises espe- 
 cially its effect of length horizontally. (See figures 74 
 and 75.) Auguste Vestris, the eighteenth-century vir- 
 tuoso, owed a part of his reputation to his power in 
 this step ; "suspended in the air" was the phrase attach- 
 ing to his performance of it. Its function is, in great 
 part, to astonish. Women accomplish its effect with the 
 aid of a supporting man ; the change of level attained by 
 this leap aided by a "lift" is indeed a harmonised ex-
 
 86 
 
 plosion, especially if it follows an arrangement of little 
 steps. 
 
 Stories of the impression created by Vestris' leap 
 would be quite incredible were their possibility not con- 
 firmed in our own time. In Scheherazade Volinine 
 jumped a distance that seemed literally more than half 
 the width of a big stage. An illusion, of course. The 
 world's record in the broad jump is less than twenty- 
 five feet, and the broad jumper's covered distance does 
 not look so impressive in actuality as it does on paper, at 
 
 74 75 
 
 MECHANISM OF BROAD JUMP. 
 
 As the body descends, the advanced leg and arm are raised, producing 
 the illusion of sustained horizontal flight. 
 
 that. Whereas the dancer's leap seems to be under no 
 particular limit when adequately performed, which is 
 rare. Being typical of the trickery by which dancing 
 plays with the eye, it may be worth analysing. 
 
 The magic is based on two illusions. First, horizontal 
 lines are insisted upon and preserved as continuous; 
 while lines not horizontal are "broken up" into short 
 lengths, to the end that they make comparatively little 
 impression on the eye. The pose itself, then, is hori- 
 zontal, which practically coincides with the direction of 
 the dancer's flight. Every one has seen the experiment
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 87 
 
 of apparently shortening one of two equal pencil lines by 
 means of cutting short lines across it : the converse of the 
 same principle governs the jump. As the pencil line 
 was shortened by cross lines, the jump is lengthened by 
 long lines parallel to its direction. 
 
 As the dancer passes the top of his flight, the second 
 illusion begins to go into effect. Contradicting the 
 eye's observation of the gradual descent of the body, the 
 long lines of the artist's arms and legs are steadily raised 
 to point more and more upward. Be the reason what- 
 ever it may, the spectator is much less conscious of the 
 body's descent than of the level or even rising direc- 
 tion of those long lines ; lines which, by the time the step 
 is half completed, have come to appear a good deal longer 
 than they are. The dancer lowers his foot just in time 
 to alight properly. The eye meantime has been so im- 
 pressed by the sweep of horizontals that it conveys to 
 the mind an agreeably exaggerated statement of the 
 length of leap they represent. Also it probably has been 
 so puzzled that its owner, unless he knows something of 
 dancing, has failed to catch the value of the step as a 
 thing of beauty. 
 
 Reasonable familiarity with the foregoing descriptions 
 of steps will, it is hoped, enable the reader to look at great 
 dancing with the added joy that comes of intelligent 
 sympathy with the ballet's intent as decoration, as well 
 as insight into its technical means. The resume of steps 
 includes the ballet's fundamentals. Each step has its 
 variations, as has been suggested ; some of the variations 
 diverge far enough from the basic step to have earned a 
 special designation. For the sake of simplicity, the spe- 
 cial names of subvarieties of steps have been eliminated 
 from this little discussion; but not at the sacrifice of
 
 88 THE DANCE 
 
 anything that a well-informed connoisseur of the ballet 
 need know. 
 
 It is a subject whose study is accompanied by the sat- 
 isfaction that time spent on it is not being frittered away 
 on an affair of a day. Some of the steps are coeval with 
 the earliest graphic records of social life; Emmanuel (La 
 Danse Grecque Antique) has made a fascinating book 
 showing the use of many present-day ballet steps (in- 
 cluding "toe-work") by the figures on early Greek 
 ceramics, carvings, etc. Various ages have added to the 
 vocabulary of choreographic material; the national 
 academies of France and Italy have preserved that which 
 is contributory to their ideals of almost architectural 
 style, and rejected that which lacks form, even though 
 expressive. The tours and pas of which ballet eloquence 
 is composed, therefore, represent a selection based on 
 generations of careful and accurately recorded experi- 
 ment in the interest of pure beauty. The designation 
 "classic," attached to French and Italian ballets, is in 
 all ways correct and deserved. The watchful care of 
 guardians keeps both schools aloof from passing caprices 
 of the public, and uncorrupted by vulgar fashions. 
 There is a present and growing movement toward nat- 
 uralistic pantomime a mode combining with popularity 
 enough intrinsic good to occasion anxiety lest the classic 
 ballet perish under its momentum. In reply to which 
 let it be emphasised at this point that the old schools 
 never have failed to incorporate the good of whatever has 
 offered; whereas that which was not of intrinsic value 
 always has passed away through its own lack of aesthetic 
 soundness. The Russian academy bases its technique 
 on the French-Italian, and insists on it rigourously as a 
 groundwork; Madame Pavlowa's practice is conducted
 
 CLASSIC BALLET POSITIONS 
 Mile. Louise La Gai 
 
 Typical moments in a renverse (i, 2, 3, 4, 5) Starting a developpe (6) Progress 
 of a #on</ <& jambe (j, 8, 9) (Continued)
 
 
 CLASSIC BALLET POSITIONS (Continued) 
 
 Rond de jambe (10) Jele tour (i i) Pas de bourree (12) Preparation for a 
 Pirouette (^13) Position sur la pointe (14) A fouette tour, inward (15) 
 A cabriole a derriere (16) Descent from an entrechat (17) An arabesque (18) 
 
 To face oaee So
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 89 
 
 daily under the eye of her Italian maestro, Ceccetti. 
 Lydia Lopoukowa, Alexander Volinine perfect, both, 
 in academic form ; their romantic pantomime is an addi- 
 tion, not a corruption. These are among the great 
 artistic intelligences in the new Russian movement. 
 Meantime arises a horde of beings possessed of "soul," 
 "God-given individuality," "natural and unhampered 
 grace," boasting of their self-evident innocence of all 
 instruction. These last constitute the tidal wave that 
 excites alarmists, on behalf of the classic ballet ! 
 
 No less subject to rule and form than steps and their 
 elements is choreographic composition. Steps are 
 phrased and phrases repeated, exactly as in music. By 
 the same formality of construction, each movement of 
 the composition is dominated by a fixed theme. Suppose 
 an entrance is in the coquettish mood : it is not unlikely 
 that the ballet-master will elect to interpret that mood 
 by whirls in other words, the horizontal circle. The 
 girl may approach the man in a wide pique tour (a stage- 
 covering circle, the dancer picking her steps with empha- 
 sised daintiness), elude his grasp by means of a series 
 of rapid pas de bourree turns, and perhaps finally spin 
 into his arms at the finish of a pirouette. Everything is 
 kept in turns, and in little vivacious steps ; no great ele- 
 vation, no open or sweeping movements ; nothing of the 
 glorious, everything to secure daintiness. Again, the 
 same motive might be rendered in quite another way, 
 namely, by short advances, retreats and steps to the side. 
 The passage might start with a series of releves quick, 
 sharp rises to the toe, the free foot crossing to pose in 
 front of the ankle of the supporting foot, after describing 
 (each step) a petit battement en avant; short, crisp, 
 dainty movements, all. In this group might appropri-
 
 90 THE DANCE 
 
 ately be included pas de bourree dessus-dessous (i. e., in 
 front and behind) ; glissades; petit s battements; and the 
 devilish-looking little pas-de-chat. In the same en- 
 chainement might easily be grouped the entrechat. All 
 these steps may unite in a similarity of action: slight 
 elevation, and a short, saucy movement in which the 
 horizontal direction predominates. 
 
 If the mood to be expressed were the triumphant, its 
 interpretation might begin with a series of pas de cheval. 
 With this the ballone and a rond de jambe finishing en 
 arabesque would unite coherently, their movements all 
 being based on the general form of an arch. 
 
 To multiply instances of arrangement by theme is 
 needless. A ballet-master would admit a greater va- 
 riety of steps together in sequence than the foregoing 
 paragraphs indicate; whirling dervishes produce an ef- 
 fect by turns alone. The instances are given with view 
 only to emphasising the principle of theme unity. What 
 is not obvious to him who never has seen the horrible 
 example of lack of observance of this principle is, that 
 it is not an arbitrary convention, but a fundamental 
 necessity. It is no uncommon thing to see good execu- 
 tion completely wasted in a helter-skelter throwing to- 
 gether of steps that lead to nothing. Cumulative devel- 
 opment with adornment but not digression along a 
 certain line, will coax the spectator into a mood of full 
 sympathy with the performance. But a series of un- 
 related turns, jumps sidewise and up in the air, entre- 
 chats and kicks, bears about the same relation to choreo- 
 graphic argument as a cat's antics on the keyboard of 
 a piano does to the work of a musician. 
 
 It will of course be understood that the ballet-mas- 
 ter's problem is complicated by requirements and limi-
 
 tations not even touched upon in this work. Conform- 
 ity to his accompanying music, for instance, is alone a 
 matter of careful study. In former generations, before 
 the present relative importance of music, the musical 
 composer followed the scenario of the ballet, which was 
 composed first and independently. Nowadays owing 
 to causes as to which speculation is free the procedure 
 is reversed. The ballet-master must not only follow 
 phrasing as it is written ; he must move his people about 
 the stage in felicitous group evolutions, basing their steps 
 on a fixed number of musical bars and beats. This re- 
 quirement disposed of, he should interpret the music's 
 changing moods with appropriate steps. Taking as an 
 example a bit of the Ballet of the Hours in Gioconda: 
 the music of the hours before dawn is largo and dreamy, 
 breaking into a sparkling allegro as the light comes, in- 
 creasing in speed and strength until a forte tells of the 
 full-fledged new day. There are steps and combinations 
 to render these motives with the utmost expressiveness. 
 Failure to employ them does not represent lack of com- 
 petence on the part of the director, so often as it does 
 inadequacy of the human material at his disposal. In 
 America, at present, the task of producing effects with 
 people whose incapability he must conceal is perhaps the 
 most serious embarrassment the ballet-master has to 
 face. 
 
 The dancer's supreme virtue is style. If, beginning 
 as a naturally graceful youngster, he has been diligent 
 for from four to seven years in ballet school, he will 
 have it ; some acquire it by study alone. With practice 
 from two to four hours every morning, and half an 
 hour to an hour before each performance, he is likely to 
 keep it. What style is, is not for words to define. To
 
 92 THE DANCE 
 
 preserve mathematical precision in a series of definitely 
 prescribed movements, while executing those movements 
 with the flowing sweep of perfect relaxation; to move 
 through the air like a breeze-wafted leaf, and alight with 
 a leaf's airiness ; to ennoble the violence of a savage with 
 a demi-god's dignity ; to combine woman's seductiveness 
 with the illusiveness of a spirit these things are not 
 style, but the kind of thing that style makes possible, the 
 magic results from the perfect co-ordination of many 
 forces, both aesthetic and mechanical. Some of the lat- 
 ter, as to theory, are readily enough understood. 
 
 Of the ballet dancer's ever-surprising defiance of the 
 law of gravity, the more obvious means are the pile, to 
 soften a descent, and a manner of picking up the weight 
 so quickly that the body seems buoyant. Of perhaps 
 no less value, though not so obvious, is the straight 
 knee. To the eye it gives a sensation of sure archi- 
 tectural support doubtless through the suggestion of 
 a column. The mechanical importance of the straight 
 supporting knee is no less than the aesthetic, since a 
 firm foundation is essential to perfect control of body, 
 arms and head. When the knee "slumps," the usual 
 consequence is a softened back and a collapsed chest. 
 The muscles of the body "let down," the fine, hy- 
 persensitive control of head and arms is gone. Crisp 
 movement being impossible to them without a sound, 
 springy body as a base to work on, the work becomes 
 monotonous and soggy. 
 
 The theory of a straight supporting axis applies also 
 to the foot as soon as it rises sur la pointe. The foot of 
 Madame Pavlowa en arabesque (see reproduction of 
 her photograph ) illustrates the principle. Mechanically, 
 there is definite advantage in an absolutely vertical sup-
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 93 
 
 port; while the spectator's visual impression asserts 
 without hesitation that the figure above the foot is with- 
 out weight whatever. The superb line of the ankle, 
 continuous in sweep over the instep, is not the least of 
 the wonders of what, if one were writing in Spanish, 
 one could without extravagance refer to as "that little 
 foot of gold." 
 
 It should not in the least modify admiration of this 
 superlative bit of technique to dispel the not uncommon 
 belief that rising on the toes is a cause of physical tor- 
 ment, a feat requiring extraordinary strength, or in it- 
 self an achievement to insist upon. Quite the contrary. 
 Like every other position in the dance, any half-trained 
 performer or student can get it, all except the quality. 
 As soon as a pupil has acquired the equilibrium that 
 ought to precede toe-work, the necessary muscular de- 
 velopment has taken care of itself, as a general rule; 
 and she takes position on the point without special effort. 
 Help is given the foot by the hard-toe slipper, combining 
 as it does the support of a well-fitted shoe with a square, 
 blunt toe. The latter, though of small area, furnishes 
 some base to stand on. Stiffening in the fore-part of 
 the shoe protects the toes against bruising in the descent 
 from leaps. 
 
 Position on the point justly claims attention as an 
 acrobatic wonder, when it is taken barefooted. And 
 a dancer who, barefooted, can perform steps on the point, 
 supporting herself easily with one foot off the floor, is 
 simply hyper-normal in strength of ankles, feet, and legs. 
 Miss Bessie Clayton is such a one, and very likely the 
 only one. It is a feat whose absence from formal dan- 
 cing is not felt, though its use would be effective in some 
 of the re-creations of Greek work. There is evidence
 
 94 THE DANCE 
 
 that the early Greeks practiced it, as before noted. In 
 our own times, there is only one instance, among the 
 stories ever heard by the authors, of barefoot work on 
 the point being done in public; and that performance, 
 oddly enough, took place in precedent-worshipping 
 Spain. The occasion was one of those competitions 
 that Spaniards love to arrange when two or more 
 good dancers happen to play the same town at the 
 same time. Tremendous affairs; not only does rivalry 
 approach the line of physical hostilities among the spec- 
 tators, but the competition draws out feats of special 
 virtuosity that the dancers have practiced secretly, in 
 anticipation of such contingencies. La Gitanita (the 
 Little Gipsy), one of the competitors in the event re- 
 ferred to, had, for some years, put in a patient half-hour 
 a day on the ends of her bare toes, without the knowl- 
 edge of any but the members of her family. When, 
 therefore, at the coming of her turn in the competition, 
 she threw her shoes to the audience, and her stockings 
 behind a wing, and danced a copla of las Sevillanas on 
 the point, the contest was settled. Most of the specta- 
 tors never had heard even of the existence of such a 
 thing as toe-work, because it does not exist in Spanish 
 dancing. The experience to them was like witnessing 
 a miracle; so it happens that La Gitanita, many years 
 dead, is still talked of when Spanish conversation turns 
 to incredible feats of dancing. 
 
 With such rare exceptions as the above, however, the 
 person who is happy in seeing difficulties overcome is 
 best repaid by watching the manner instead of the mat- 
 ter. There is hardly a step but can be floundered 
 through, if real execution be disregarded. The difficul- 
 ties that take years to master, that keep the front rank
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 95 
 
 thin, are those of nobility, ease and precision of action. 
 Naturally, it is harder to preserve these qualities through 
 a renverse than in a pas de Basque; but there is no merit 
 in exhibiting a renverse badly done. The latter is a 
 pertinent instance of things difficult to do well. A fou- 
 ette tour "inward" is not safely attempted by any but the 
 most skilful ; nor is either a fouette or a rond de jambe, 
 finishing in arabesque. To keep the movement con- 
 tinuous, imperceptibly slowing it down as the arabesque 
 settles into its final pose, requires ability of a rare grade. 
 
 As the little alternating steps furnish the means of 
 regaining equilibrium after a big pas or tour, it follows 
 that their elimination from an enchainement represents 
 a tour de force. This is especially true if the big steps 
 be taken at a slow tempo (as an adagio, so called) ; and 
 difficulties are compounded if the artist performs the 
 entire adagio on the point. Few there are in any gen- 
 eration who can attempt such a flight. 
 
 But there are many qualities justly to be demanded of 
 any artist who steps before an audience. Crisp, straight- 
 line movements should be cleanly differentiated from the 
 soft and flowing. An entrechat not as sharp-cut as a 
 diamond represents incompetent or slovenly workman- 
 ship. The same applies to other steps of the staccato 
 character as battements, brises, pirouettes sur le cou- 
 de-pied. Each dancer rightly has his own individuality ; 
 and the movements of one will be dominated by a liquid 
 quality, while another's will be brilliant, or "snappy." 
 But a dancer who is truly an artist has, within his scope, 
 a good contrast between the several types of movement. 
 Lack of such contrast may cause a sense of monotony 
 even in very skilful work. Elevation also is important 
 in preserving a sense of variety. Not only pile and
 
 96 THE DANCE 
 
 rise are made to serve; raisings of the arms add im- 
 mensely to the sense of vertical uplift when height is 
 sought. 
 
 A certain conformity to geometrical exactness is nec- 
 essary to the satisfaction of the spectator's eye, and is 
 observed by all but the incompetent. Not that movement 
 should be rigid very much to the contrary. "Geom- 
 etry" is a sinister word; interpreted in a sense in which 
 it is not meant, it would be misleading. An example is 
 sometimes clearer than attempted definitions or descrip- 
 tions. 
 
 If, having given an order for a grandfather's clock, 
 the recipient found on delivery that it did not stand quite 
 straight, he would be annoyed. Suppose then that fur- 
 ther observation revealed that the face of the clock was 
 not in the middle, that the centre of the circle described 
 by the hands was not the centre of the face, that the face 
 was no more than an indeterminate approximation of a 
 circle, and that the numerals were placed at random in- 
 tervals ; the eye of the clock's owner would be offended. 
 Various aesthetic and psychological arguments might be 
 applied to the justification of his feeling, but they are 
 not needed. The futility of near-circles, approximate 
 right angles and wobbly lines is felt instinctively. Yet 
 the eye rejoices in the "free-hand" sweep of line correct 
 in placement, though not subjected to the restrictions of 
 straight-edge and compass. Asking for acceptance in 
 such sense of the terms "geometrical" and "precision," 
 we may return to our discussion of the ballet. 
 
 The decorative iniquity of the hypothetical clock at- 
 taches to all dancing that fails to give to precision the 
 most rigourous consideration. The imaginary circle de- 
 scribed in a pirouette, for example, is divided into halves
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 97 
 
 and quarters. Let us suppose the pirouette to end in 
 arabesque, stopping on the half-circle, bringing the dan- 
 cer in profile to the audience : a very few degrees ofif the 
 half-circle are, from the ballet-master's point of view, 
 about of a kind with a few centimetres separating the 
 misplaced clock hands from their proper situation in the 
 centre of the dial. The petit rond de jambe has its imag- 
 inary quarter of the great circle in which to play, and 
 which it must fill. In a fouette, the sweep of the foot 
 starts at the quarter-circle (marked by an imaginary lat- 
 eral plane through the dancer's body), and reaches back 
 just to the half-circle (defined by a similar plane, drawn 
 longitudinally). The lateral elevations of the legs are 
 likewise subject to law, the imaginary vertical circle 
 described by the leg as radius being divided into eights, 
 to allow the leg to use the angle of forty-five degrees; 
 experience shows that this diagonal, half a right angle, 
 is pleasing to the eye and not disturbing to the senses. 
 
 The hands and forearms are turned in such a way as 
 to eliminate elbows, the coincidence of a contour of the 
 arm with an arc of a big (imaginary) circle being al- 
 ways sought. 
 
 The convention of "toeing out" has as an object the 
 showing of ankles and legs to the best advantage. On 
 the flat foot the advantage is not so apparent ; but experi- 
 ment shows that pointing out and down greatly helps 
 the appearance of a foot in the air. The supporting foot 
 and leg also show the benefit of the device as soon as the 
 dancer rises to the ball of the foot or the point. More- 
 over, it is obvious that the pointing of a supporting foot 
 forward would necessitate changes from the classic form 
 of many steps. 
 
 Recent years have brought out a volume of protest
 
 98 THE DANCE 
 
 to the effect that the classic ballet's restriction of move- 
 ment too severely limits expression. The protest is 
 right or wrong according to point of view, and point of 
 view is a matter of historical period. The French school 
 comes to us from a time when men kissed hands and 
 drew swords in exact accordance with accepted forms, 
 and the favoured house-decoration was a tapestry de- 
 signed on lines purely architectural. The present is a 
 moment of much concern about freedom of the individ- 
 ual, and its expression. Curiosity is at boiling-point. 
 Narrative is sought. We want something to happen, 
 all the time. And those who fail to see the actual oc- 
 currence want the story of it to be graphic. Moving 
 pictures are very satisfying to the majority. Acres of 
 popular pictures are painted in boisterous disregard of 
 order or harmony of line and form. It would be very 
 pleasant for those who enjoy optical beauty, if public 
 taste required beauty as a first requisite for popularity. 
 Nevertheless, popular pictures as they are do no partic- 
 ular harm, probably, either to those who like them or to 
 those who do not. 
 
 But, if the world's great and beautiful mural decora- 
 tions were suddenly painted over with frenzied or senti- 
 mental illustrations, to "modernise" them, it would be 
 a different matter. That little public to whom beauty 
 is as a necessary sustenance by coincidence the same 
 public that includes the leaders of thought in each gen- 
 eration would have a good deal to say in the line of 
 objection to such desecration. Now, the ballet is essen- 
 tially a mural decoration, potentially very great in power 
 to exalt. If a large element should have its way, the 
 next few years would see that decoration painted over
 
 THE BALLET'S TECHNIQUE 99 
 
 with a huge choreographic story-picture, sentimental or 
 frenzied, realistic; and beauty be hanged. 
 
 This anarchistic mania is in no wise a doctrine of the 
 Russians. But their undiscerning admirers, seeing in 
 their work only the lines of departure from old-estab- 
 lished formulae, shout to heaven that any restraint of 
 individual caprice is wrong. Innocent of suspicion that 
 such things as aesthetic principles exist, they force their 
 expression of "individuality" to the limit of their inven- 
 tion. And some of them certainly are inventive. 
 
 Fortunately the great dancer is great largely because 
 of his perception of the value of order and form. The 
 best of the Russians are great dancers; great artists in 
 the full sense of the word. They are the ones who will 
 profoundly influence the aesthetic thought of the present 
 generation, and their influence will be sound and good. 
 Opposing it will be many a "hit" by skilful characters, 
 and a dangerous numerical force among the public. It 
 is easily possible that the latter influence may prevail. 
 The grand ballet is still an experiment in the America of 
 this generation. It was here thirty years ago, and fell 
 into the hands of Philistines, who shaped it into the silly 
 thing they thought they wanted, and then were forced 
 to abandon it because it was silly. 
 
 Than the present, there never was a more important 
 crisis in the cause of choreographic good taste. The out- 
 come depends upon the manner and degree in which those 
 who stand for good taste assert themselves during the 
 next few years.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE OF DANCING 
 
 LOUIS XIV brought public interest in the ballet to 
 a point of eager excitement; indeed, the influence 
 of a monarch's consistent patronage, including the 
 foundation of a national academy, added to the example 
 of his prominent participation in about thirty allegorical 
 dancing spectacles, could not fail to be powerful. 
 
 With the growth of public interest and intelligence, 
 the ballet and the technique of dancing developed com- 
 mensurately. The two enthusiasms of public and artists 
 reacted on each other to the advantage of both; in the 
 uninterrupted enrichment of the ballet the public never 
 failed to find its attention repaid in ever-increasing fas- 
 cination. Dancers, composers and directors, on their 
 side, abandoned themselves to their work with the zeal 
 that comes of certainty that no good thing will pass 
 unnoticed. 
 
 Such conditions bring good results more than can be 
 foreseen even by those actively engaged. As, in fiction, 
 the miner in trying to loosen a nugget usually uncovers 
 a vein, so it may occur in the arts. For instance, Ca- 
 margo found that her entrechat was difficult and in- 
 effectual under the weight and length of the fashionable 
 skirt of the period. She therefore had a skirt made 
 reaching midway from knee to foot. A simple solution ? 
 Certainly. But it was thought of only after centuries 
 of submission to clothes that considered fashion and dis- 
 
 100
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 101 
 
 regarded the problems and possibilities of the dancer's 
 art. And it represented the species of decision that risks 
 acting counter to an accepted, unquestioned institution. 
 It was not an effort to draw attention by means of a 
 spurious originality. Camargo's work explained the 
 change. The public understood and approved. The 
 ballet was directed toward its costume; a long journey 
 lay ahead of it, but it was rightly started. 
 
 Liberty of movement so attained at once put a pre- 
 mium on higher and more open steps; technical inven- 
 tion was set to work as never before. The ballone, 
 various pas battus and ronds-de-jambe that followed im- 
 measurably enhanced the scope of the ballet as an in- 
 strument of ocular-orchestral expression. New en- 
 chainements, striking in the contrast of little work with 
 big, soon made the court dances which for a period 
 had constituted the ballet's working material look old- 
 fashioned. The stage now required considerable eleva- 
 tion, decided contrasts, increasing scope. And, what- 
 ever the cost in skill and energy, there were dancers 
 eager to expend the energy and to give the needed years 
 to acquiring the skill. 
 
 Since the days of the Roman Empire, masks had been 
 worn to identify characters. Not a bit of cloth to cover 
 the face, merely; but cumbersome things with plumes, 
 wings, metallic spikes (i. e., the rays of the sun worn 
 by Louis XIV in the Ballet of Night) or what-not, 
 so extended that they restricted the action of the 
 the arms, so heavy as to interfere with steps. It was 
 a clumsy convention, but it was as integrally a part of 
 stage representation as scenery is to-day, and the few 
 who wished its abolition were outvoted by a cautious 
 majority. At last, according to her custom of helping
 
 102 THE DANCE 
 
 an enterprise that is doing well, Fate took a hand. 
 Auguste Vestris failed to appear for a certain perform- 
 ance ; as the time for his entrance drew near, the anxious 
 stage director asked Gardel to "go on" in Vestris' part. 
 Gardel, an until-that-time ineffectual rebel against the 
 mask, consented ; t)ut with the condition that the mask 
 be omitted. In default of arrangements more to his 
 satisfaction, the director consented. The public at once 
 saw the advantage of the change, and were pleased with 
 Gardel's appearance. So began the end of the dominion 
 of the mask. 
 
 Of the notable personalities that the early rays of 
 the eighteenth century illuminated, the aforementioned 
 Auguste Vestris was the interesting son of a more in- 
 teresting father. The latter was a genius of the very 
 first water, with a conceit so incredibly exaggerated that 
 it is almost lovable. "This century," he was accustomed 
 to observe, "has produced but three great men myself, 
 Voltaire, and Frederick the Great." He sometimes 
 signed himself "le Diou de la Danse" ; himself a Floren- 
 tine, the relation of French spelling to pronunciation was 
 contrary to his ideas. The phrase as he put it had a 
 special merit, and as "le Diou de la Danse" he was known 
 through his long life. A lady, having stepped on his 
 foot, expressed a hope that she had not hurt him. "Le 
 Diou" depreciated the hurt to himself, but informed the 
 lady that she had put Paris into a two-weeks' mourning. 
 Of his son's leaps he said that if Auguste did not remain 
 in the air forever, it was because he did not wish to 
 humiliate his comrades. 
 
 The foundation of the Opera was another of the im- 
 pulses to act favourably, if indirectly, upon the interests 
 of dancing. Its modest beginning had been made a few
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 103 
 
 years after that of the ballet academy. The two arts 
 at once combined to produce a new variety of musical 
 spectacle, namely, opera. Great music came to the fore 
 in response to the added encouragement but digres- 
 sions must be repressed. 
 
 Contemporary with Camargo and Salle was a dreamer 
 of dreams too great to be realized in his own time, but 
 whose ideas take place among the lasting good influences 
 in art. Garrick called him "the Shakespeare of the 
 Dance" ; his name was Noverre. 
 
 To the post of ballet-master at the Opera he brought 
 the experience of years in similar service in Stuttgart, 
 Vienna and St. Petersburg. His work he regarded with 
 the broad vision of cultivated understanding of painting, 
 music, story, acting and dancing, and the functions of 
 each. His genius was, above all else, constructive; his 
 ideal was to bring the arts into a harmonious union, to 
 which each should contribute its utmost, while all should 
 be informed with and dominated by a single aesthetic 
 purpose. 
 
 The obstacle always blocking his path was not in- 
 competence of aides and artists, not lack of money, nor 
 any of the betes noires to which more recent idealists are 
 accustomed. His enemy was the inert, impalpable and 
 almost invincible force of custom, paradoxically persist- 
 ent despite the public's demand for new things. It was 
 custom that the composer of a ballet should always ar- 
 range for the introduction of the specialties of the sev- 
 eral principals, irrespective of motives. Custom obliged 
 him to arrange entrances in the inverse order of the 
 artists' relative ranks he of least rank "going on" first, 
 the star being the last to appear. Noverre broke up this 
 usage, and characters thereafter entered at times con-
 
 104 THE DANCE 
 
 sistent with plot-development. Plots had been crippled 
 by accepted beliefs that certain dance sequences were 
 unalterable; a Gavotte, for instance, had to be followed 
 by a Tambourin and a Musette; the sequence had not 
 been questioned. Noverre saw the possibilities of dan- 
 cing as an instrument of expression; he insisted that 
 steps and enchainements should be composed to intensify 
 the motive of the passage. Scenery, he held, should 
 contribute in the same way to the mood of the act it 
 decorates. Pretty it had been, and executed by capable 
 painters; but Noverre found its composition lacking in 
 consideration of proper relationship to the other ele- 
 ments of the production. With himself he associated 
 Boucher and one or two other decorators of lesser name ; 
 under his comprehension of the scene's dramatic intent, 
 settings were designed that reasserted in line, form and 
 colour the argument of the scene's plot, music and dance. 
 In this department he was less successful than in others. 
 Boucher made beautiful sketches, some of which are ex- 
 tant. But one has only to consider opera in his own 
 day to realise that any influence Noverre exercised 
 toward the unification of scenery with music and plot, 
 was not strong enough to last. Stories taken from leg- 
 end, set among surroundings as realistic as skill can 
 paint them ; tragic scenes among architecture and foliage 
 coloured in the key of care-free frivolity to enumerate 
 the familiar discrepancies is unnecessary. Tradition 
 specifies a bright first-act "set" for Carmen, and grey 
 for the prison interior in Faust. But the profound cor- 
 relation of colour and line with the explicit mood of the 
 piece has remained for the Russian, Leon Bakst. In the 
 recent volcanic renaissance of dancing effected by his 
 fellow-countrymen, M. Bakst and his ideas have been a
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 105 
 
 force second only to the marvellous work of the dancers 
 themselves. His scenery strikes the note of the drama, 
 attunes the spectator with its mood, at the rise of the 
 curtain. His knowledge of pictorial composition he has 
 extended to the designing of costumes ; his broad artist's 
 intelligence he has applied to the composition and direc- 
 tion of ballets ! It is his happy role to realise Noverre's 
 dream. 
 
 In music Noverre worked with Gluck, in certain pro- 
 ductions at least ; and happily. "Instead of writing the 
 steps on prescribed airs," in a free translation of his 
 own words, "as is done with couplets of familiar tunes, 
 I composed if I may so express myself the dialogue 
 of my ballet and had the music made for each phrase 
 and each idea. It was just so that I dictated to Gluck 
 the characteristic air of the ballet of the savages in 
 Iphigenia in Tauris; the steps, the gestures, the expres- 
 sions of the different personages that I designed for him 
 gave to the celebrated composer the character of the 
 composition of that beautiful bit of music." 
 
 The abolition of the mask was among Noverre's de- 
 sires; its fortuitous accomplishment at a later time al- 
 ready has been described. In his ideals for costume 
 reform in general he was only partly successful. What 
 he strove for seems to have been costuming in some- 
 thing of the sense of its present-day interpretation by 
 the Russians; garments wholly in character with the 
 beings represented, in regard to race and period, yet 
 conceding enough in line and colour to enable them to 
 be used as part of the material of abstract interpretation. 
 At the beginning of his administration of the Opera 
 he found each performer dressed, for the most part, 
 according to individual choice : either the drawing-room
 
 106 THE DANCE 
 
 costume of the period, or the same with shortened skirt, 
 a la Camargo. To this was added the mask, an enor- 
 mous wig (unrelated to the character) and some such 
 symbol as a leopard skin, a wreath of flowers, or more 
 likely a property such as a bow and quiver of arrows, or 
 a pair of bellows. In the order mentioned, such articles 
 represented a bacchante, Flora, Cupid, and Zephyrus. 
 Excepting the superadded marks of identification, artists 
 provided their own wardrobe. The lack of consistent 
 supervision and its natural consequence is exemplified 
 in an anecdote of a member of the corps de ballet in Le 
 Carnaval et la Folie: in the performance she exhibited 
 a series of gowns of Adrienne Lecouvreur, which she 
 had thriftily picked up at a sale of the recently deceased 
 tragedienne's effects. 
 
 In the ballet of The Horatii, of Noverre's own com- 
 position, "Camilla wore a huge hooped petticoat, her hair 
 piled up three feet high with flowers and ribbons. Her 
 brothers wore long-skirt coats, set out from their hips 
 by padding." And so forth. 
 
 It is to be noted that Roman and Greek mythology 
 lived and flourished, but no longer excluded other lore 
 from the composer's use. A list of Noverre's ballets 
 d' action includes The Death of Ajax, The Judgment of 
 Paris, Orpheus' Descent into Hell, Rinaldo and Armida, 
 The Caprices of Galatea, The Toilette of Venus and the 
 Roses of Love, The Jealousies of the Seraglio, The Death 
 of Agamemnon, The Clemency of Titus, Cupid the Pirate 
 and The Embarkation for Cythera. His work of perma- 
 nent value, still read by composers and ballet-masters, is 
 his book Letters on the Imitative Arts. For his light 
 composition, Les Petits Riens, the music was by Mozart. 
 
 Notwithstanding his failure to accomplish all he hoped
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 107 
 
 in the several departments of his organisation, and in 
 spite of his rather pessimistic opinions of early eight- 
 eenth-century conditions affecting the ballet, the dance 
 was entering its golden age. Pantomime largely ow- 
 ing to the enrichment he had given it out of the fruits of 
 his study of Garrick's methods had exponents who 
 could touch the heart. Writings began to show intelli- 
 gent and explicit criticism, and that of a nature to prove 
 that choreographic execution had reached a high point. 
 The added scope afforded by new acquisitions of ma- 
 terial in the steps allowed artists to go far in develop- 
 ment of individuality. Camargo charmed by perfection 
 of technique; "she danced to dance, not to stir emotion." 
 Her special steps are enumerated : besides the entrechat, 
 she shone in jetes battus and a frictionless entrechat 
 coupe. About her work there was a healthy public 
 controversy, a vigourous minority protesting against 
 idolisation of one who they asserted had virtuosity 
 only. And the protests show analytical understanding 
 of the dance. 
 
 Salle's more deliberate, probably more feeling work, 
 has been noted in an earlier chapter. Her popularity 
 hardly could have been less, all told, than that of her 
 rival. 
 
 Miles. Allard and Guimard were two stars who fol- 
 lowed a little later in the same period. The former com- 
 bined extraordinary vigour with pathetic pantomime. 
 The work of Guimard was delicate, pretty, light. 
 "She is a shadow, flitting through Elysian groves," one 
 of her contemporaries wrote of her. Certainly she had 
 the art of pleasing, on the stage or off. The list of 
 eminent competitors for her affection is eloquent not in 
 its length, but in the number of occupants of high station
 
 io8 THE DANCE 
 
 including three princes of the Church. With a pas- 
 sion for theatrical and political intrigue she combined 
 a spirit of the utmost generosity. To her the painter 
 David owed his professional beginnings; he was an art 
 student without means to study, and engaged in house- 
 painting for a livelihood, when Guimard secured him a 
 pension that afforded him study at Rome. Some of 
 Fragonard's best decorations were made for her estab- 
 lishments. 
 
 Her refusal to have any rival about her kept the Opera 
 in an uproar. Perfectly appointed little theatres in both 
 her country and city homes enabled her, with her taste, 
 means, and popularity among the people of the stage, 
 to give performances for which invitations were most 
 highly prized. For these performances she made a prac- 
 tice of setting dates to coincide with court receptions, 
 knowing from experience that the best wit and most of 
 the elegance of Paris would make excuses to the court. 
 From this estate she was reduced, partly by the storm of 
 the Revolution, to a condition of miserable poverty last- 
 ing until her death ; which was delayed until her seventy- 
 fourth year. 
 
 Men did not fall short of women in merit and recogni- 
 tion. Beside the Vestris, father and son, fame touched 
 Javillier, Dauberval, and the comedy dancer Lany. 
 Maximilian Gardel, he who substituted for Auguste Ves- 
 tris on condition of appearing without the mask (Apollo, 
 in Castor and Pollux was the role), was a composer of 
 note as well as a dancer. His brother Pierre added to 
 
 these qualities skill as a violinist. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The progress of the ballet was halted by the Revolu- 
 tion. Gardel headed an effort to keep it in motion with
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 109 
 
 the aid of a spectacle La Marseillaise as vehicle; but the 
 people were on the streets, dancing la Carmagnole, and 
 nobility were as far from Paris as possible. It is prob- 
 able that the ballet was set down as an aristocratic in- 
 stitution. Napoleon included a corps de ballet in the 
 equipment of the campaign in Egypt; but it signified 
 nothing to the advantage of the art. Immediately after 
 the Terror, eighteen hundred dance-halls were opened in 
 Paris, to furnish, seven nights a week, relief for fever 
 and frenzy. Even England was too preoccupied to 
 offer the ballet a dwelling; its organisation, for the time 
 being, was lost. 
 
 But only for the time being. History records a bit 
 of international negotiation indicating Europe's readi- 
 ness to return to the realities of life and the happiness 
 thereof. In 1821 an ambassador of a great power acted 
 officially as an impresario of dancers. 
 
 England, whose best public taste never has been satis- 
 fied with the work of her own people, was, within a few 
 years after the peace, again seeking dancers in France. 
 Efforts to get the best were handicapped. The national 
 character of the French Academy makes its pupils and 
 graduates wards of their government, in effect ; govern- 
 ment permission is and was necessary as a condition to 
 leaving the country. Negotiations therefore were put 
 into the hands of the British ambassador, less formal 
 dealings apparently having failed to produce results. 
 The agreement was incorporated in the form of a treaty, 
 France agreeing to lend England two first and two sec- 
 ond dancers, England in return agreeing not to attempt 
 to engage any others without the Academy's consent. 
 
 M. Albert and Mile. Noblet were the first two artists 
 to be taken to London under the new arrangement, at
 
 no THE DANCE 
 
 salaries of 1700 and 1500 respectively. During the 
 same period, and for years after, Her Majesty's Theatre 
 had the services of Carlo Blasis, one of the most capable 
 ballet-masters of his time, father of several virtuosi, and 
 the writer of books of lasting value on the subject of his 
 profession. Dancing reached a popularity that would 
 seem the utmost attainable, were it not for disclosures 
 to be made in the years soon to come. 
 
 Beauty and its appreciation will carry a public to a con- 
 dition of ecstasy. If to this be added the incessant dis- 
 cussion attendant on a controversy, with the hot parti- 
 sanship that accompanies the coexistence of rival stars, 
 the devotional flame is augmented by fuel of high cal- 
 orific value. Not without cause were the hostilities of 
 Pylades and Bathyllus, of Salle and Camargo, associated 
 with great public enthusiasm. To artistic appreciation 
 they added the element of sporting interest. 
 
 In Marie Taglioni and Fanny Ellsler, Europe had the 
 parties to a years-long competition that was Olympian 
 in quality and incredible in its hold on the sympathies of 
 the public. Both goddesses in art, their personalities 
 and the genres of their work were at opposite extremes. 
 In Pendennis Thackeray asks, "Will the young folks 
 ever see anything so charming, anything so classic, any- 
 thing like Taglioni?" Of Ellsler, Flitch quotes words 
 equally enthusiastic and less coherent from the pen of 
 Theophile Gautier, who was an incurable maniac and 
 copious writer on the subject of dancing: "Now she 
 darts forward; the castanets commence their sonorous 
 clatter ; with her hands she seems to shake down clusters 
 of rhythm. How she twists ! how she bends ! what fire ! 
 what voluptuousness of motion ! what eager zest ! Her 
 arms seem to swoon, her head droops, her body curves
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 111 
 
 backward until her white shoulders almost graze the 
 ground. What charm of gesture ! And with that hand 
 which sweeps over the dazzle of the footlights would not 
 one say that she gathered all the desires and all the en- 
 thusiasms of those that watch her ?" 
 
 This referred to a Cachucha that she had brought from 
 Spain ; a dance whose steps have been recomposed under 
 other names, its original name forgotten except in asso- 
 ciation with the name and the art of Ellsler. It was a 
 perfect vehicle for the exploitation of the ardent qualities 
 that the little Austrian was made of, and on her render- 
 ing of it was based a great part of her fame. 
 
 Taglioni, in contrast, was a being of spirit, innocent 
 of mortal experience, free from ties of the earth. Her 
 training was strictly within the bounds of the classic 
 ballet ; during her career she greatly amplified its range, 
 yet she always kept within its premise. Though born 
 in Stockholm, her father was an Italian ballet-master, 
 and two of her aunts were dancers of reputation. Her 
 achievements represented a triumph of choreographic in- 
 heritance and training over an ill-formed body ; in child- 
 hood she is said to have been a hunchback. With train- 
 ing her figure became normal in strength, and attained 
 a quality of form in keeping with her selected roles. But 
 overstrong features deprived her of the dancer's ad- 
 ventitious aid of facial beauty. Her triumphs were 
 achieved by art alone. 
 
 Vienna she conquered at the age of twenty, in 1822, 
 the year of her debut. Paris was not so readily moved ; 
 but a success in that capital was a practical necessity to 
 a great career, and Taglioni never rested until she se- 
 cured its approval, expressed in terms that penetrated 
 Europe. Business generalship was not the least of the
 
 112 THE DANCE 
 
 attributes of the Taglioni, father and daughter; they 
 recognised the propitious hour for an engagement in 
 London. The contract included pensioning a number 
 of their family, and 100 a performance. Results more 
 than justified the terms; ticket sales for Taglioni's nights 
 usually were of the nature of riots. It is as fair to con- 
 nect with this box-office success, as with any quality of 
 the artist herself, the story of her "holding up" a per- 
 formance until the management of the theatre should 
 make a substantial payment on an account due. It is 
 unlovable in an artist to keep an audience waiting, and 
 put a manager to the necessity of making explanations. 
 It is unlovable in a coal dealer to discontinue supplies 
 until a debt is settled. 
 
 Taglioni paid as heavily for the excellence she put into 
 her work as ever did miner or merchant for the goods 
 he put on his scales. Her training began in early child- 
 hood, and covered probably twelve years before her 
 debut. Her professional career, with its inevitable anx- 
 ieties, in no wise reduced the rigour of study, discipline, 
 and precaution. Under her father's eye she practiced 
 hours daily. She went to the length of having installed 
 in her London lodgings a stage built to duplicate the 
 slope of the stage in the theatre. 
 
 Apart from the possession of ideals of sheer execution 
 that undoubtedly were higher than any that her prede- 
 cessors had dreamed of, and whose attainment involved 
 almost superhuman effort and patience, Taglioni was 
 a productive inventor of new steps. Flying brises and 
 other aerial work make their first appearance in her 
 work, according to Mme. Genee's historical programme 
 of ballet evolution. We infer that her effort was di- 
 rected toward the illusion of flight ; a writer of the period
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 113 
 
 refers to an arabesque that conveyed that sensation with 
 striking reality. The great addition she made to eleva- 
 tion may naturally be attributed not to any interest in 
 that property for its own sake, but rather to an endless 
 search for lightness. And that, above all others, was 
 the quality she made her own. La Sylphide (not the 
 composition recently popularised by the Russians) was 
 the part with which she was most unified in the minds 
 of the public. Her work appears always to have had the 
 creation of fairy fantasy as a definite purpose. In pan- 
 tomime she was limited. She had none of the stage 
 artist's familiar tricks devised to capture the audience, 
 nor did she avail herself of any vivid contrasts in her 
 costume. She dressed her hair in Madonna fashion, 
 surrounded by a wreath of little roses; further adorn- 
 ment she deliberately avoided. 
 
 Ellsler was six years the younger; and, at some sac- 
 rifice of time in the acquisition of fame, she reserved 
 Paris as the last of the great cities in which to appear. 
 Taglioni therefore was well established when her 
 destined rival first showed her steps to the Parisians. 
 In fact, she occupied a box at Ellsler's first Paris per- 
 formance, where it is said she silently wept before the 
 end of the other's first number. 
 
 The Swede had succeeded almost in spite of circum- 
 stances; Ellsler's natural endowment contained almost 
 everything the gods in a generous mood can give. The 
 perfection of proportion of hands, feet, wrists and ankles 
 were hers, as well as a Greek perfection of figure. 
 Though her legs were of steel, and her strength in gen- 
 eral that of an athlete, not a line suffered in sculptural 
 grace nor a movement in freedom. Her face had a 
 beauty that captivated an audience at the moment of her
 
 114 THE DANCE 
 
 entrance on the stage, and a range of expression cover- 
 ing the moods of the human mind. Her training, like 
 Taglioni's, had begun early. Mozart, for whom Ells- 
 ler's father worked as copyist and otherwise, had inter- 
 ested himself in her to the extent at least that her early 
 years were not misspent. With her technical tuition 
 whatever it may have been she absorbed stage experi- 
 ence almost from the days of infancy. She danced in 
 a children's ballet in Vienna when she was six years old. 
 Before appearing in Paris she had succeeded in Naples, 
 Berlin and London. The audience of 1'Opera there- 
 fore saw her first at the full maturity of her art and 
 equipped with ample knowledge of how to present it to 
 the best advantage. 
 
 Her success was not in doubt for a moment. The 
 opening number was a riotous triumph, the morning 
 papers were undivided in praise of the newcomer. Tag- 
 lioni felt that Ellsler had been brought to Paris expressly 
 to undermine her, and the appearances are that Ellsler 
 lost no time in putting herself on a war footing. 
 
 London theatre-goers soon were in a position to ques- 
 tion whether, after their elaborate provisions to get good 
 dancers, they had not made a rather embarrassing mis- 
 play. Ellsler had danced at Her Majesty's Theatre ; the 
 public had enjoyed her work, but, owing either to her 
 lack of a great continental reputation or their own mis- 
 givings about the soundness of her work, had refrained 
 from very hearty demonstration. On the first night of 
 the engagement, the manager of 1'Opera who was in 
 London to form an estimate of the Austrian's work 
 signed her for the following season. 
 
 Contrary to the metier of her rival, Ellsler's art con- 
 sisted of a romantic glorification of life's physique. One
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 115 
 
 gathers that she gave, instead of an ordered and con- 
 secutive poem, a thrill of delighted astonishment. She 
 was of a newly forming romantic cult that worshipped 
 the torrid, the savage, the violent. Her most pro- 
 nounced success was on her rendering of the dances of 
 Spain ; she used her hips and her smile, and men more 
 than women went into rhapsodies. Gautier, who had 
 seen the best dancers in Spain, wrote that none of them 
 equalled Ellsler. Which is credible, with reservations 
 and conditions. If the sole aim of Spanish dancing is 
 to express fire and temperament, to astonish and in- 
 flame, it is more likely to be realised by a clever North- 
 erner than by a Spaniard. The headlong enthusiast is 
 not bothered by delicate considerations of shading, de- 
 velopment, and truth of form; seizing the salient and 
 exotic, an exaggeration of these and the elimination of 
 all else is sure to produce a startling result. Execution 
 at an abnormally rapid tempo will conceal inaccuracies 
 from all eyes but those trained to the dance, and backed 
 by a knowledge of its true forms. 
 
 All this by no means intends to assert that Ellsler 
 was not a dancer of a high degree of skill, and per- 
 haps of some degree of greatness. It is significant, 
 however, that her encomiums concern themselves only 
 with that which, boiled down, amounts to praise of a 
 beautiful woman, performing evolutions at that time 
 novel and surprising, and frankly withal in a perfectly 
 clean manner appealing to sex. The quality that 
 might be called decorative truth does not appear to have 
 been an impressive element of her work. Assuredly 
 that is the foundation of dancing entitled to any con- 
 sideration in connection with the quality of great- 
 ness. Temperament, expressing what it will, of course
 
 ii6 THE DANCE 
 
 is as necessary to animate the form as true form is to 
 begin with; but temperamental exuberance cannot take 
 the place of a proper substructure. Granting the in- 
 adequacy of data, and speculating on a basis of indica- 
 tions only, one is justified in wondering if Ellsler com- 
 ing to life to-day could repeat her impression on Paris, 
 with its present knowledge not only of Spanish dancing, 
 but also of feats of supreme virtuosity. 
 
 Years only augmented the heat of the feud between 
 the two goddesses. Europe divided itself into acrimo- 
 nious factions of Taglionites and Ellslerites. The lat- 
 ter were shocked, however, when, to bring to a flat com- 
 parison the question of merit, Ellsler announced her in- 
 tention to play La Sylphide. Taglioni had made the 
 part her own; for another to undertake it was at least 
 an act of doubtful delicacy. Nor was the idea better 
 advised on grounds of strategy. La Sylphide in its 
 composition was a tissue of the ethereal, even if Tag- 
 lioni had not made it so by association with herself. 
 Ellsler was insistently concrete. Effects followed 
 causes. Her most ardent partisans could not say after 
 the performance that the attempt spelled anything but 
 failure. 
 
 America's first vision of a star dancer was the direct 
 consequence of Ellsler's vexation over the fiasco. Our 
 fathers and grandfathers unharnessed the horses from 
 her carriage, and counted it an honour to get a hand 
 on the rope by which the carriage was drawn ; carpeted 
 the streets where the carriage was to pass, strewed 
 flowers where the divinity was to set her foot, and in 
 all ways comported themselves as became the circum- 
 stances, during the period of two years that she stayed 
 on this side of the Atlantic.
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 117 
 
 Ellsler's professional collapse was connected not with 
 art, but politics. After her return from America she 
 danced several seasons in Milan. The ballet academy 
 of la Scala had been founded in 1811, interest in the 
 art ran high, and was fed by the Austrian government 
 as a hoped-for means of distracting the public mind from 
 the revolutionary sentiment of the mid-century. In 
 1848, on the occasion of a performance especially pro- 
 vided to smooth over a crisis, it was arranged that the 
 people of the ballet should wear a medal recently struck, 
 representing the pope blessing a united Italy. Ellsler 
 conceived a suspicion that the idea represented an intent 
 to insult her as an Austrian; she refused to go on un- 
 less the medals be taken off. Meantime the corps de 
 ballet had made its entrance, wearing the medals. They 
 were removed at the first opportunity, and promptly 
 missed at the ballet's next entrance. The explanation 
 of the change travelled through the house ; the premiere, 
 when she entered, was received with hisses. Tense 
 with political excitement, the audience saw in her only 
 the representative of the power that controlled the Ital- 
 ian sceptre. Her efforts received no answer but furi- 
 ous insults. She fainted. 
 
 After three comparatively uneventful years she re- 
 tired, rich and in the main popular. Her contribu- 
 tions to religion and charity had been impressive and 
 so continued until her death in 1884. Her wealth was 
 estimated at one and a quarter million dollars'. Tag- 
 lioni's end was in miserable contrast ; during part of her 
 latter years she held a petty position as teacher of de- 
 portment in a young ladies' school in England. She 
 died lonely and forgotten, after a most unhappy old age. 
 
 Among the many dancers brought out by the period
 
 ii8 THE DANCE 
 
 of enthusiasm were three women of whose work the 
 records have only the highest praise. To Carlotta 
 Grisi, Gautier gave the credit of combining the fiery 
 abandon and the light exquisiteness of the two great 
 luminaries of the day. Fanny Cerito and Lucille Grahn 
 were ranked with her. For Queen Victoria there was 
 arranged a pas de quatre by Taglioni, Grisi, Cerito, and 
 Grahn. That performance, in 1845, represents one of 
 the climaxes of ballet history, including as it probably 
 did the greatest sum total of choreographic ability that 
 ever had been brought together. 
 
 But it was the milestone at the top of a high mountain, 
 from which the road turned downward. Except in 
 England, Taglioni's prestige was dimmed. Queen Vic- 
 toria's reign, however uplifting in various important re- 
 spects, undeniably was depressing in its influence on all 
 the imaginative arts; and it was an influence that 
 reached far. Furthermore, the elements that consti- 
 tuted opera began to assume new relative proportions. 
 The voice of Jenny Lind called attention to the factor 
 of singing. In the present day of subordination of the 
 dancer to the singer, it is almost incredible that opera 
 of seventy years ago assigned to the dancer the relative 
 importance that the singer enjoys now; especially diffi- 
 cult is this conception to any one whose acquaintance 
 with opera is confined to its production in America. 
 General indifference has reduced operatic ballet in this 
 land to a level compared to which its condition in con- 
 tinental Europe is enviable. Though reduced from past 
 importance, in countries that support academies it has at 
 least retained standards of execution. 
 
 But the strictly modern interpretation of opera, min- 
 imising choreography, has been accepted. New operas
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE 119 
 
 are written in conformity with the altered model. It 
 is likely that the present renaissance of dancing, though 
 no less vital than any that have gone before, will effect 
 little change in the art's importance in opera structure, 
 which has become a distinct organism to be heard rather 
 than seen. Aroused interest and intelligence inevitably 
 will force improvement on old organisations, new ap- 
 preciation will justify it from the box-office point of 
 view. But the American dance-lover's hope lies in the 
 new-old form of ballet pantomime. This is the expres- 
 sion that the great new romantic movement has taken, 
 as though in express recognition of those of us to whom 
 the use of ears has not atrophied eyes. 
 
 Against the suddenly discovered passion for singing, 
 the art of Grisi, Cerito, Grahn and their colleagues could 
 not hold public attention. Steadfastly the French and 
 Italian academies held to their creeds of choreographic 
 purity. Upon their fidelity to ideals the latter nine- 
 teenth-century reign of artistic terror made no impres- 
 sion ; to their preservation of the good is due the ability 
 of the present romantic renaissance to come into its 
 complete expression without the intervention of a cen- 
 tury of rebuilding. Russia and Austria too had founded 
 national academies for instruction along the lines made 
 classic by Paris and Milan, Others followed. But it 
 appears that the technical virtuosity of Taglioni had set 
 a pace that was both difficult and misleading. Being a 
 genius, perfection meant to her a means of expression. 
 During a period in which no great genius appeared, 
 efforts to win back the lost kingdom took the form of 
 striving for technique as an object. The public was 
 unjustly damned for failure to respond to marvellously 
 executed students' exercises. With equal lack of jus-
 
 120 THE DANCE 
 
 tice, it became fashionable to include the whole school 
 of the ballet's art in the accusation of stiffness and 
 artificiality. 
 
 The half-century ending about 1908, during which the 
 stage was given over to all the flashy choreographic 
 counterfeits that mediocrity could invent, was saved 
 from complete sterility by the dances that are rooted in 
 the soil. Jigs and Reels, Hornpipes and Tarantellas held 
 their own like hardy wild flowers in a garden of weeds ; 
 like golden, opulent lilies, the Seguidillas of Spain held 
 their heads above malformation and decadence. This 
 is a fitting point at which to consider the nature of some 
 of these ancient expressions of the heart of men who 
 dwell away from courts.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 SINCE earliest Occidental history, the dances of 
 Spain have been famous. To-day their richness, 
 variety and fundamental nobility give them a posi- 
 tion in advance of any other group of national dances 
 of the Occidental type. Whether certain of the Oriental 
 expressions are superior to the Spanish is wholly a 
 matter of point of view on dancing. But dancers and 
 dance-lovers, of all beliefs and prejudices, unite in con- 
 ceding to Spain the highest development of "character- 
 istic" or national dancing. More even: though the 
 French and Italian ballets in general hold their schools 
 to be the very fountainhead of the choreographic art, 
 not a few disciples of the academies of Milan or Paris 
 concede to Spanish dancing superiority over all, in that 
 aspect of beauty that is concerned with majesty of line 
 and posture. 
 
 It is as though Terpsichore herself had chosen the 
 dwellers of Iberia to guard her gifts to mankind. Ga- 
 dir, the city now called Cadiz, was a little Paris in the 
 day of the Carthaginian, with dancing as its most highly 
 developed art and notable among its diversions. When 
 the Romans took the city they were delighted with 
 the dancers they found there ; for centuries after, Span- 
 ish dancers remained a fashionable adjunct of great 
 entertainment in the capital, and Cadiz the inexhaustible 
 source of their supply. 
 
 121
 
 122 THE DANCE 
 
 When Rome, too infirm to resist, left Spain to be 
 overrun by the Visigoth, she left the arts of the penin- 
 sula to the mercy of a destroying barbarian. Architec- 
 ture and statuary he demolished, books he burned. 
 Dancing eluded his clumsy hand ; in places of retirement 
 children were taught the steps and gestures that had 
 crossed the sea from Egypt in the days of the Phoeni- 
 cians. 
 
 In the eighth century came the Moor : slayer, organ- 
 iser, builder; fanatic, dreamer, poet; lover and creator 
 of beauty in all its manifestations. His verses were epi- 
 grams of agreeable and unexpected sounds, formed into 
 phrases of eloquent metaphor. His architecture and its 
 ornament, too, were epigrams ; combinations of graceful 
 and simple lines and forms into harmonious symbols 
 more eloquent than description. To him the dance was 
 verse and decoration united, with music added; enter- 
 tainment and stimulus to contemplation. Under his 
 guardianship and tuition the Spanish dance strength- 
 ened its hold on the people, and increased in scope. A 
 certain class of it retains to-day a distinctly Moorish 
 flavour. 
 
 The "Century of Gold" that followed the expulsion of 
 the Moors and the discovery of America found the dance 
 surrounded by conditions than which none could have 
 been more favourable. Gold looted from the new con- 
 tinent was lavished on masques and fiestas that emu- 
 lated those of neighbouring monarchies ; courtiers were 
 so preoccupied with the diversion that a memoir of the 
 period contains a complaint that "sleep in any part of the 
 palace has become impossible, since persons of all de- 
 grees have taken to continuous strumming of the music 
 of the zarabanda." The less exalted had in the dance
 
 "LA MALAGUENA Y EL TORERO" 
 Eduardo and Elisa Cansino 
 
 To face page izz
 
 SPANISH DANCING 123 
 
 an expression for every emotion, an exercise whose 
 magic ennobled, and a magic whose exercise raised them 
 above the reach of sordid cares. In the Church, while 
 bishops in other parts of Europe were questioning or 
 protesting the dance as an act of worship, their brothers 
 in "la tierra de Maria Santisima" were insisting upon it 
 as a most appropriate part of the highest ritual. 
 
 Colonies and dependencies fell away; the stream of 
 gold flows in other channels. Uncomplaining the Span- 
 iard retires into the house that once was animated with 
 great companies of guests and hordes of servants. Re- 
 duced ? Not at all ! A few intimates drop in after din- 
 ner, bringing friendship and wit. There is always a 
 glass of wine. His daughters will step some of the old 
 dances in the patio; their younger brother has "hands 
 of gold to touch the guitar." An entertainment at once 
 agreeable and becoming the latter, if for no other rea- 
 son, because it is Spanish ! 
 
 To an extent there are grounds for the anxiety, some- 
 times expressed, that modernism is melting away this 
 tradition-worship. In Madrid there is an English 
 queen ; tennis and tea become a cult to be followed with 
 what semblance of gusto one can assume. San Sebas- 
 tian is the summer resort of royalty, and of pleasure- 
 seekers from all parts of Europe ; its modernism is that 
 of Paris or Vienna. Other cities, to the number of 
 perhaps half a dozen, show consciousness of twentieth- 
 century conditions. Among which conditions is, of 
 course, an indiscriminating fondness for novelties for 
 their own sake. And there is always at hand a numer- 
 ous class of dancers to provide novelties in exchange for 
 a moment's applause. 
 
 In another country the national art would deteriorate
 
 124 THE DANCE 
 
 under these hostile influences. But in Spain, not read- 
 ily. Her dances are an organism, rooted in the soil, 
 with forms as definite as the growth of a flower. Men- 
 tion dancing to an Ar agones, and it means to him the 
 jota of his province. Let other steps be added to it, he 
 will resent them ; in his eyes they occupy about the same 
 place as a third arm would on a drawing of the human 
 figure a monstrosity, and uninteresting. No less than 
 Aragon have other regions their local dances and their 
 choreographic creed, with stupendous pride in both. 
 The steps are handed down like the tunes of old music, 
 with the ideals for their execution. And, high in im- 
 portance as conservers of their classic national forms, 
 there exists a fine spirit of artistry among a number of 
 the prominent masters. Jose Otero of Seville and An- 
 tonio Cansino, a Sevillano who for some years has 
 taught in Madrid, are prominent among a number to 
 whom the preservation of Spain's choreographic purity 
 is almost a holy cause. 
 
 The dancing of Spain divides into two schools: the 
 purely Iberian, exempt from Gipsy influence, which is 
 known as the Classic ; and the work of Gipsy origin and 
 character, which is generically known as the Flamenco. 
 The two overlap to the extent of a few dances that par- 
 take of the elements of both, and lend themselves to exe- 
 cution in the manner of either. On either side of this 
 common ground the two schools are completely distinct 
 in style, and almost equally so in gesture and posture, 
 having in common only a limited number of steps. In 
 general effect their individualities are absolute. 
 
 The work of the Gipsy is, above all, sinuous. His 
 body and arms are serpentine. His hips, shoulders and 
 chest show a mutual independence of action that would
 
 SPANISH DANCING 125 
 
 worry an anatomist, but which allows the dancer limit- 
 less freedom for indulgence in the grotesque. He de- 
 lights in the most violent contrasts. A series of steps 
 of cat-like softness will be followed by a clatter of heels 
 that resembles Gatling-fire, the two extremes brought 
 into direct juxtaposition. His biggest jump will be pre- 
 ceded by movement so subtle that it is less seen than 
 sensed. 
 
 In all circumstances the Gipsy is an irrepressible pan- 
 tomimist. Of the word and the gesture of his ordinary 
 communication, it is highly probable that the gesture is 
 of the greater importance. He likes to talk, and his 
 words come at a speed that makes them indistinguishable 
 to any but a practised ear, the confusion heightened by 
 the free intermixture of Gipsy argot. But the continu- 
 ous accompaniment of facial expression, movement of 
 body and play of hands is sufficient by itself. 
 
 The dance gives full employment to the Gipsy's mim- 
 etic powers, and in fact serves primarily as an emotional 
 expression. His dances are not composed, or "rou- 
 tined." He has his alphabet of steps and choreographic 
 movements, and with these he extemporises. By some 
 telepathy most puzzling to those who know the most 
 about Gipsy dancing, the accompanists are not disturbed 
 by any of the dancer's changes of mood, however sud- 
 den. The instant drop from extreme speed to the oppo- 
 site never traps the guitarist into a mistake; and his 
 air is remarkable, too, in preserving the sentiment as 
 well as the time of the dance. 
 
 Anything like the full scope of Gipsy dancing is rarely 
 revealed to any not of that race; because, done with 
 abandon, it is an intimate revelation of nature. El Gi- 
 tano is conscious of his racial and social inferiority, de-
 
 126 THE DANCE 
 
 spite the arrogance he likes to assume. He is a vaga- 
 bond living in waste places and by means, usually, of 
 petty imposture, tolerated because of his impudent but 
 very genuine wit. For these reasons a dance for pay 
 becomes a scheme to extract the most money possible 
 for the least work. And the work itself, though skil- 
 ful, is accompanied by a self-consciousness directly op- 
 posed to the essentially Gipsy element of his dance. 
 
 A Spaniard who has got past the Gipsy's reserve is 
 Eduardo Cansino, the dancer. As such it is an object 
 for him to see their work at its best; from their all- 
 night parties he has acquired steps. His diplomatic 
 equipment consists, first, of an acquaintance with the 
 Gipsy language, along with ability to make himself 
 agreeable. Understanding of Flamenco dancing en- 
 ables him to aid intelligently in the jaleo, that accom- 
 paniment of finger-snapping, hand-clapping and half- 
 chanted, half-shouted phrases that make the Spanish 
 dancing atmosphere what it is. (In Gipsy dancing the 
 jaleo is "tricky," owing not only to suddenness of 
 changes, but to frequent digressions into counter-time.) 
 When asked to dance, Eduardo's hold on the company's 
 respect is brought to a climax, as there probably is no 
 better performer among the men of Spain. And withal 
 he is willing to buy manzanilla as long as expediency 
 suggests. 
 
 According to Eduardo, it is the exception when a 
 dance performed at a Gipsy party fails to tell a story. 
 Usually the story is improvised from a suggestion of the 
 moment. Satire is popular; if one of the company has 
 undergone an unpleasant experience in love, trade, or 
 dealings with the guardia civil, it is capital for the dan- 
 cer. Imitations of carriage and mannerisms of the per-
 
 SPANISH DANCING 127 
 
 sons represented are carried to that degree of realism 
 made possible by the Gipsy's eternally alert observa- 
 tion and his expressive body ; and he has no artistic creed 
 to cause him to question the value of literal imitation. 
 But the quality of greatness is not what one expects in 
 Gipsy dancing; its contribution is the extreme of skil- 
 ful, surprising grotesquery. 
 
 Notwithstanding the limitations that accompany an 
 insistence on physical facts, the Gipsy's rendering of the 
 great emotions is said to be impressive at the moment, 
 even though it fails to record any lasting impression. 
 Love, as in the dancing of almost all peoples, is a favour- 
 ite motive, with its many attendants of allurement, 
 reticence, jealousy, pursuit and surrender. But the rep- 
 ertoire is limited only by the Gipsy's scope of emotion 
 hatred, revenge, triumph and grief his heart is prob- 
 ably about the same as any one's else, only less repressed 
 by brain. So far is dancing from being merely an act 
 of merriment that it is used in mourning the Gipsy 
 dead. 
 
 Flamenco dances as seen in theatres and cafes are 
 compositions made from the elements of Gipsy work; 
 choreographic words grammatically related as is neces- 
 sary, among other considerations, for accompaniment 
 by orchestras of sober and dependable beings. The task 
 has been admirably done; la Farruca, el Tango, and 
 el Garrotin, the most popular Flamenco dances at pres- 
 ent, preserve to admiration the Gipsy qualities. No less 
 credit is due the composers of their accepted musical 
 accompaniments; the indescribable Oriental relation of 
 melody and rhythm, the Gipsy passion for surprise, they 
 have preserved and blended in a manner charming and 
 characteristic. It is only within the past fifty years that
 
 128 THE DANCE 
 
 the process of adaptation began. Jose Otero, in his 
 chatty Tratado del Baile, traces the movement to its 
 beginning; which like many another beginning, was the 
 result less of foresight than of desperation. The case 
 was of a dancer whose Classic work failed to earn him 
 a living. He strung together some Gipsy steps as a 
 last resort and without hope, and was allowed to try 
 them in a cafe cantante in Seville. Their success was 
 instantaneous, and continues unabated. Even in the ab- 
 sence of the Gipsy's inimitable pantomime, there is com- 
 fort in seeing his dances under conditions of freedom 
 from argument about extra charges for nothing at all, 
 whines concerning starvation and sickness equally imag- 
 inary, care not to lose one's watch, and pressure to buy 
 useless and foolish souvenirs at shameless prices. Par- 
 ties to visit the Triana of Seville or the Albaicin of 
 Granada are great fun, but a terrible strain on the pa- 
 tience of the person who accepts the responsibility for 
 his friends' amusement. 
 
 If the Tango and its Flamenco kinsmen fail to conquer 
 a permanent place in the Spanish repertoire, it will be 
 through their exclusion from the respectable Spanish 
 family. The daughter of the house does not learn dan- 
 cing of the Gipsy type except in the unusual case that 
 she is preparing for a dancer's career. The Flamenco 
 has picturesqueness and "salt," but of dignity less. To 
 the Spaniard, that which lacks dignity is vulgar, how- 
 ever witty or graceful. Witty or graceful things may 
 be enjoyed, though dignity be lacking; but the doing of 
 such things is another matter. The Gipsy's untutored 
 point of view on obscenity is a further argument against 
 their admission into the home. It is not a structural 
 part of any of the Flamenco work. But association has
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 +.*<* 
 
 TYPICAL "FLAMENCO" POSES. 
 (From work of Senorita Elisa Cansino.) 
 
 The Garrotin. TU T- 
 
 The Garro^ -n,. r _ T >* T "^ 
 
 The Tango.
 
 130 THE DANCE 
 
 created a sentiment, and against sentiment logic is help- 
 less. 
 
 La Farruca probably exploits more completely than 
 any of its fellows the varied resources of the Flamenco. 
 After one becomes accustomed to it sufficiently to be 
 able to dominate one's own delight and astonishment, 
 one may look at it as a study of contrasts, carried to the 
 n th power. Now the performers advance with undula- 
 tion so slow, so subtle, that the Saracenic coquetry of 
 liquid arms and feline body is less seen than felt. Mys- 
 tery of movement envelops their bodies like twilight. 
 Of this perhaps eight measures, when crash! Pres- 
 tissimo! Like Gatling-fire the volley of heel-tapping. 
 The movements have become the eye-baffling darting of 
 swallows. No preparation for the change, no crescendo 
 nor accelerando; in the matter of abruptness one is re- 
 minded of some of the effects familiar in the playing of 
 Hungarian orchestras. 
 
 Another use of contrast produces a sensation not un- 
 like the surprise you get when, in the course of drink- 
 ing one of those warm concoctions of sweetened claret, 
 you unexpectedly bite a piece of cinnamon, and during 
 a few seconds taste vividly the contradictory flavours 
 of both spice and sweetness. The music is moving in 
 a flowing legato. In counter-time to the notes is a 
 staccato of crisp taps of light, "snappy" hand-claps, 
 and dry-sounding sole-taps on the floor, two varieties 
 of accent alternating one with the other. Success of 
 the effect depends on the very perfection of tempo, to 
 begin with, and after that on a command of the quality 
 of sound in the taps. A good deal of attention is given 
 to the cleanness and brilliancy of the tone of these notes, 
 as well as the cultivation of a good sparkling "tak" in
 
 SPANISH DANCING 131 
 
 snapping the fingers. Many performers carry in each 
 hand a series of three ringing finger-snaps, loud enough 
 to carry sharply to the back of their smallish theatres. 
 
 It is in respect to finesse of such details that most non- 
 Spaniards condemn themselves to the mediocre when 
 they attempt Spanish dancing. The mere steps can be 
 learned by any one with an intelligence and two sound 
 legs. Many students approximate the style. But the 
 seemingly little things often act as the big pit-falls. The 
 castanets, for instance, expose cruelly the lack of finish 
 of many a pretender to laurels in the Spanish field; in 
 the hands of their master they can ring, or sing, or click, 
 or purr, as the mood of the dance suggests. To an 
 amateur it would be illuminating to see the care a pro- 
 fessional exercises in mating the little instruments in 
 pairs. They vary in pitch, and have almost personal 
 whims. For instance, in cold weather they fail to do 
 themselves justice unless they are carried to the per- 
 formance in an inside pocket. But this is straying from 
 the Flamenco; castanets are in the main an adjunct of 
 the Classic. 
 
 Returning to the subject of contrasts, the Flamenco, 
 more than any other style in the world, perhaps, insists 
 on difference between the work of man and woman. It 
 is seen in the greater relaxation of the woman's body, 
 the more complete elimination of angles from her move- 
 ments. The degree of rigidity that the man's body 
 should maintain is a point of justifiable difference be- 
 tween artists ; so with the extent to which his movements 
 should follow the lines of curves. But that curve should 
 be the theme controlling the woman's movement and 
 carriage, all agree. The result is to the eye as a duet 
 of guitar and flute is to the ear. Following the compari-
 
 132 THE DANCE 
 
 son further, tHe dance duet does not confine itself to 
 unison identical movements of the two performers 
 any more than does the duet of music; and this correla- 
 tion of two harmonised parts is not the least of the 
 causes of madness imparted to spectators of good 
 dancing. 
 
 In all dances evolved to the plane of art, a common 
 device is to end a phrase with a turn a pirouette, or 
 something simpler, according to the character of the 
 work. This general rule the Spanish follow. But look 
 how the Farruca makes such a turn the opportunity for 
 one of its myriad contrasts ! 
 
 The renverse of the ballet has a kindred turn in la 
 vuelta quebrada. Both are executed with an arm al- 
 ways extended, so as to describe the maximum circle; 
 of the vuelta quebrada the movement is low and hori- 
 zontal, with everything done in such a way as to give 
 the impression of a smooth, oily roll. The Farruca 
 leads the woman up to this turn, or vuelta, through a 
 series of short steps. Now visualise the man's part at 
 the same time : as the woman enters her flowing vuelta, 
 a mighty leap lands the man in the position of stooping; 
 instantly he starts rising with a spiral movement that 
 takes the form of a pirouette and so continues through 
 the circle. The surprise the eye receives from the har- 
 monised contrast between the extended horizontally 
 moving sweep and the vertical spiral uplift, with its 
 kaleidoscopic change of levels, seems never to grow less. 
 And if the man makes it a double pirouette instead of 
 a single, why, one simply shouts aloud with the joyous 
 discovery that the law of gravitation and a lot of other 
 cumbersome things have suddenly been abolished. 
 
 The Tango at the present moment familiar in North
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 133 
 
 "FLAMENCO" POSES. 
 The Farruca: devices to mark counter-time. 
 
 The Farruca: typical group. 
 
 The Tango: finish of a turn. The Tango: start of a turn. 
 
 The Farruca: man's preparation for The Farruca: ftito or finger-snap- 
 a pirouette. ping. 
 
 (From work of Eduardo and Elisa Cansino.)
 
 134 THE DANCE 
 
 America found its way here from Argentina. In the 
 form it takes here, its relation to the Tango of Spain 
 is little more than a coincidence of names. In none of 
 the Spanish dances does the man's arm ever go around 
 the woman's waist the purely Spanish, that is. Off- 
 shoots and corruptions to be found in the Latin Amer- 
 icas do not signify. The Spanish Tango is of the 
 Flamenco group. It is a solo for a woman. By con- 
 vention she performs it wearing a man's hat, the manip- 
 ulation of which gives some grotesquely graceful occu- 
 pation to her hands. Apart from this it is distinguished 
 from the others of the group mainly by the sequence 
 in which steps are combined; in spirit, elemental steps 
 and poses, it conforms to the type of its family. 
 
 El Garrotin is distinguished by the importance it gives 
 the hands. They repel, warn, invite ; half the time they 
 are held behind the back. So indirect are their hinted 
 communications, so alien are their movements to any- 
 thing in the Occidental way of thinking, that they unite 
 with the girl's over-the-shoulder smile in an allurement 
 no less than devilish. 
 
 Other dances of the same school are Marianas and 
 Alegrias, long familiar. New ones introduce the names 
 of las Moritas and Bulerias. Each has its personality, 
 but all are composed of the Gipsy steps, performed in 
 the sinuous manner, and rich with contrasts of fast and 
 slow, soft and energetic movements. All are adorned 
 with the stamping, sole-tapping, clapping and finger- 
 snapping already described; though Marianas, as a 
 quasi-Classic, may be performed with castanets. All 
 moreover, are costumed alike, as indicated in the sketches 
 and photographs, most of which in this chapter were 
 made possible by the courtesy of Eduardo Cansino and
 
 SPANISH DANCING 135 
 
 his sister Elisa, of the family of one of the most capable 
 masters in Spain. The man's suit is the habitual street 
 dress of the Andalusian torero. It may represent a re- 
 tiring taste by being of grey or brown cloth. But if it 
 belong to one of those typical Sevillanos who believe that 
 a man is an important decorative feature of the land- 
 scape, it may be of velvet blue, wine-colour, purple in 
 any of its shades, or jet-black. With the little pendant 
 coat-button ornaments of gilt, as they may be; the silk 
 sash, rose or scarlet, just showing under the waistcoat ; 
 with the shirt ruffled, and the collar fastened with link 
 buttons, as it ought to be ; and the whole animated with 
 the game-cock air that the torero assumes as befitting 
 a public man, it is a costume not lacking in gallantry. 
 
 For the woman, convention has strained for a sub- 
 stitute for the inanely garish, shapeless garments of the 
 Gipsy sister a good note of colour they make on the 
 hillside, but in all truth, a poor model for dressing when 
 placed among formalised surroundings. The conclu- 
 sion is a compromise shocking, on first impression, to 
 the ideals of the Spanish dance. But, as though to con- 
 firm the argument of the futurist painters, that colour- 
 harmony is a matter of what you are accustomed to, 
 you grow into an acceptance of it. Many people even 
 like it. It has indeed this merit, that it is a realisation 
 of the Gipsy's dream of elegance. Beginning with the 
 manton the long-fringed flowered shawl half of these 
 bailarinas of the Flamenco seem to patronise some spe- 
 cial frenzied loom that supplies their class alone. The 
 richness of design that you saw on the manton of the 
 lady in the next box at last Sunday's corrida you find 
 replaced here in el teatro de variedades by an anarchy 
 of'colour, and poppies of the size of a man's hat. The
 
 136 THE DANCE 
 
 skirt is stiffened in the bell-shape surviving other days, 
 and well adapted to composition with Spanish steps; 
 but the colours are of the piercing brilliancy attainable 
 only by spangles. Orange, carmine, emerald-green and 
 cerulean-blue are the favourite palette from which the 
 scheme is selected, with the unit of design of a size that 
 makes more than two of them impossible on the same 
 skirt. Nevertheless, one accepts it with custom, aided 
 by the seduction of the dance which has been known 
 to secure for its performers pardon for transgressions 
 graver, in some eyes, than crimes against colour. 
 
 Artists there are, of course, who use the colour and 
 spangles with taste and style, just as there are those of 
 high ability and seriousness who select the Flamenco 
 on which to build reputation. For dignity, however, we 
 turn sooner or later to the Classic. 
 
 In Andalusia, the first dance you will hear named is 
 las Sevillanas unless you happen to be in Seville, 
 where the same dance is known as Seguidillas. The 
 latter word lacks explicit significance. It applies to a 
 form of verse, thence to analogous phrasing in musical 
 composition, then to a structure of dance. In general 
 it denotes a composition of three or more stanzas, or 
 coplas, repeating the same music but changing the theme 
 of the step. Various provinces and even vicinities have 
 their special Seguidillas. The number of these and other 
 dance-forms indigenous to Spain is uncounted, so far as 
 we know ; certainly any complete description of them in- 
 dividually would furnish material for many hundred 
 pages of print, especially if the list should include the 
 widely scattered derivatives. Mexico, Cuba, and vari- 
 ous countries of South America have their local compo- 
 sitions; but of these many are mere degenerations of
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 137 
 
 their original models, and many are compounded with 
 steps of the Indians. Since none has contributed any- 
 thing of consequence, this chapter's necessary concen- 
 tration on the work of Spain itself involves little real 
 sacrifice. 
 
 It is Sevillanas whose easier movements are among 
 the first undertaken by every well-reared Andalusian 
 
 "LAS SEVILLANAS." 
 Grouping at pause in first copla. School of Don Jose Otero, of Seville. 
 
 child, whose adequate execution is half the fame of most 
 great Spanish dancers. Of all the dances, Otero calls 
 it "the most Spanish." Yet it gives the spectator few 
 detached pictures to carry away in memory. Its merit 
 is in its cumulative choreographic argument. 
 
 Very broadly speaking, the prevailing foot-work of 
 the Seguidillas family is the pas de Basque or, in Span- 
 ish, paso de Vasco. Turns, advances and retreats are
 
 138 THE DANCE 
 
 almost incessant. Variety of step is secured by fre- 
 quent fouettes and fouette tours (figures 43 to 46), the 
 leg sweep in the latter being usually "inward," the foot, 
 with most performers (at present) raised more than 
 waist-high. Swinging steps, it will be noticed; choppy 
 elements such as battements, entrechats and the like are, 
 by distinction, the elements of the sharper work of the 
 North. Sevillanas makes the feet less important than 
 the hands and arms. These, however bewildering they 
 are made to appear, follow a simple theme of opposi- 
 tion, as for instance: (i) left arm horizontally ex- 
 tended to the side, right arm across the chest; (2) right 
 arm extended upward, left forearm across the back. As 
 the simplest movement of club-swinging is incomprehen- 
 sible to the person to whom it never has been explained, 
 so with the arms in Sevillanas, with the bewilderment 
 multiplied by the play of line effected by the arms of a 
 couple. 
 
 The body is held with a combination of erectness and 
 suppleness that is Spain's own; sympathetic to every 
 move of hand or foot, yet always controlled and always 
 majestic. The essence of this queen of dances is not 
 in step or movement, but in its traditional style plus a 
 steadily increasing enrichment through the successive 
 coplas an enrichment that depends principally on the 
 perfection of team work at a rapid tempo, and one that 
 adds greatly to the subtle difficulties. Many performers 
 will inform you that a sixth copla does not exist. Of 
 those who can execute it adequately, the majority re- 
 serve it for competitions to present as a surprise. 
 
 The scope of moods from beginning to end of Sevil- 
 lanas gives play to the lyric and the epic ; allurement and 
 threat ; coquetry and triumph. It is a blend of the wine
 
 "L BOLERO" 
 Typical moment in first copla (i) Finish of a phrase (2) 
 
 To face page 138
 
 "LA JOTA ARAGONESA" 
 Type of movement Finish of a turn 
 
 A pirouette 
 Kneeling position Woman's sitting position 
 
 To face page 159
 
 SPANISH DANCING 139 
 
 of Andalusia with her flowers and her latent tragedy. 
 Not that it is particularly a vehicle for pantomime. 
 Rather its suggestions are conveyed as are the motives 
 of flowers, or architecture by relations and qualities 
 of line and form that work upon the senses by alchemy 
 no more understood than that of music. The accumu- 
 lating intricacy has been so artfully designed that, as 
 the dance progresses, its performers actually seem to 
 free themselves from the restrictions of earth. Each 
 new marvel tightens the knot of emotion in the throat; 
 shouts invoking divine blessings on the mother of the 
 bailarina "Que Dios bendiga tu madre!" unite with 
 the tumult of the jaleo. For shouting may save one 
 from other emotional expressions less becoming. 
 
 The music contributes to this hysteria, of course. 
 But, with no accompaniment but their own castanets, a 
 good team can work the magic. That might be con- 
 sidered a test of the quality of composition in a dance, 
 as well as of execution. 
 
 So gracious, so stately, so rich in light and shade is 
 Sevillanas, that it alone gives play to all the qualities 
 needed to make a great artist. When, a few summers 
 ago, Rosario Guerrero charmed New York with her 
 pantomime of The Rose and the Dagger, it was the first 
 two coplas of this movement-poem that charmed the 
 dagger away from the bandit. The same steps glorified 
 Carmencita in her day; and Otero, now popular as a 
 singer in the Opera in Paris. All three of these god- 
 desses read into their interpretation a powerful idea of 
 majesty, which left it none the less seductive. Taking 
 it at a comparatively slow tempo, the perfection of every 
 detail had its highest value. A new generation of per- 
 formers has been rather upset by a passing mode of rapid
 
 140 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 foot-work, and under its influence too many of them tend 
 to rush the dance and so detract from its majesty. True 
 it is that a great work of art can stand a good deal of 
 abuse; but any menace to such a work as the one dis- 
 cussed, points out the need of a national academy, where 
 
 Two GROUPS IN "LAS SEVILLANAS." 
 
 the treasures of the dancing art could be preserved from 
 possible whims of even an artistically intelligent public, 
 and the compliance of a non-resisting majority of artists. 
 Unlike most great European nations, Spain has no na- 
 tional academy of the dance. 
 
 Fanny Ellsler electrified the America of our fathers' 
 boyhood days with her interpretation of la Cachucha. 
 Zorn's Grammar presents a choro-stenographic record 
 of it, showing few elements that do not occur in Sevil- 
 lanas. La Cachucha itself has disappeared from the 
 Peninsula practically at least, if not absolutely. Its 
 existence is in printed records and a few old people's 
 memories. The inference is that it was at a high pitch 
 of popularity at the time of Ellsler 's sojourn in Spain, 
 and that Sevillanas subsequently absorbed it. Showing
 
 SPANISH DANCING 141 
 
 the operation of an old process : "Our buildings and our 
 weapons of war are renewed from day to day. . . . 
 Chairs, cupboards, tables, lamps, candlesticks are also 
 changed. It is the same with our games and dances, 
 our music and songs. The Zarabanda has gone; Se- 
 guidillas are in fashion ; which, in their turn, will disap- 
 pear to make room for newer dances." So wrote Mateo 
 Aleman, in the sixteenth century. He might a little 
 more exactly have said "reappear in" instead of "disap- 
 pear to make room for." 
 
 Sevillanas, as was said before, is Seville's special 
 arrangement of Seguidillas. Valencianas and Ar- 
 agonesas are among the modifying geographic words 
 also in use; Vuillier quotes also Gitanas, Mollaras, 
 Gallegas and Quipuzcoanas. These terms as localising 
 modifications of Seguidillas may be no longer current. 
 But their existence is significant, as indicating a parent 
 trunk from which many local dance forms have 
 branched. It seems pretty safe to infer that acquaint- 
 ance with the general characteristics of the Seguidillas 
 type gives us an idea of the essentials of some of the 
 dances of very early times, by whatever names they may 
 have been known. Like Sevillanas and la Cachucha, 
 el Fandango (which as a name has retired into the moun- 
 tains of the North, and otherwise is preserved in the 
 opera La Nozze de Figaro) is recorded as being a spe- 
 cies of Seguidillas. The castanets are a link that binds 
 the family, logically or otherwise, to earliest history. 
 
 The Fandango, though restrained in the theatre, 
 seems at all times to have been danced in less formal 
 gathering places in a manner more or less worldly. A 
 story pertaining to it was written in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury. The Pope (according to the story) heard that
 
 142 THE DANCE 
 
 the Fandango was scandalous, and as a means of stop- 
 ping its practice, proposed excommunication as a pen- 
 alty for its performance. A consistory was debating 
 the issue, when a cardinal proposed that the accused 
 was entitled to an opportunity to defend itself. This 
 seemed reasonable, and the dancers were summoned. 
 
 "Their grace and vivacity," says Davillier, "soon 
 drove the frowns from the brows of the Fathers, whose 
 souls were stirred by lively emotion and a strange pleas- 
 ure. One by one their Eminences began to beat time 
 with hands and feet, till suddenly their hall became a 
 ballroom; they sprang up, dancing the steps, imitating 
 the gestures of the dancers. After this trial, the Fan- 
 dango was fully pardoned and restored to honour." 
 
 Whatever the lack of basis for the tale, it is a fact 
 that the Church in Spain has recognised the dance as 
 an art that, like music, lends itself to religious ritual. 
 Seville Cathedral still has occasions for the solemn 
 dance of los Seises. In 1762, dancers were taken from 
 Valencia to help celebrate the laying of the foundation- 
 stone of Lerida Cathedral. Instances might be multi- 
 plied at length. 
 
 The costume most picturesque and romantic that 
 woman has at her disposal for these dances is that of the 
 madronero the network dotted with little black balls, 
 draped over the hips. Imagine the bodice black velvet, 
 and the skirt golden-yellow satin, and you have a spot- 
 and-colour translation of Andalusia. But the dress of 
 the madronero is not often to be seen; the spangled 
 Flamenco costume is publicly accepted as the dress of a 
 Spanish dancing girl. 
 
 The manton should be draped over the shoulders like 
 a shawl in la Jot a Aragonesa and other dances indig-
 
 SPANISH DANCING 143 
 
 enous to central and northern provinces. It is Fla- 
 menco to fold it diagonally to form a triangle, and wrap 
 it around the body in such a way that the depth of the 
 triangle lies on the front of the body; the apex points 
 downward, and is arranged to fall to one side of the 
 centre. The other two ends are crossed over the back 
 and brought forward over the shoulders; or one end 
 may be tucked in, and the more made of the end that 
 remains in sight. 
 
 The dance in which we see the white mantilla to 
 which the Spanish girl owes a portion of her fame is 
 la Malaguena y el Torero. Perhaps owing to the 
 weight of the man's costume proper to the dance, it is 
 not often performed; for the bullion-adorned dress of 
 the torero is of a weight suggestive of anything but airy 
 foot-work. 
 
 The characters of the piece it is one of the very 
 few Spanish mimetic dances are represented, as might 
 be expected, in a little flirtation. Of the three move- 
 ments, the first is an animated paseo, or promenade, the 
 torero wrapped in the capa de gala prescribed by cere- 
 mony as essential for matadores and banderilleros dur- 
 ing their entrance parade into the bull-ring. The torero 
 is followed by the girl, her face demure in the half- 
 shade of the overhanging mantilla. A manton carried 
 folded over her arm, suggestive of a torero's cape, gives 
 to the pantomime the key of fantasy; and her weapon 
 of coquetry is a fan. 
 
 An elaborate series of advances, turns, meetings and 
 passings prepares the torero to acknowledge that he 
 notices the girl. (Mr. Bernard Shaw was not the orig- 
 inal discoverer of feminine initiative in man-and- 
 woman relations.) He looks at her and is delighted.
 
 144 THE DANCE 
 
 The music changes, and the second movement, la mim- 
 ica, begins. He will spread his capa for her to walk 
 over; but first he must flourish it through a couple of 
 the movements familiar to patrons of the corrida. A 
 veronica "Ole!" roars the crowd, whose memory in- 
 stantly correlates with the writhing cape the vision 
 of a furious bull. A farol throws the brilliantly col- 
 oured cloth like a huge flower high in the air : a suerte 
 de capa always magnificent, one of the ever-recurring 
 flashes of surprise that make the corrida irresistible 
 despite its faults. In consecutive movement the capa 
 opens and settles fanlike before the girl, the boy kneel- 
 ing as she passes. Rising, he tosses, his cap for her to 
 step on. A touch of realism, this! Andalusian usage 
 permits this compliment, with the spoken wish that God 
 may bless the senorita's mother. The second copla 
 draws to a close with the boy's pantomime merging into 
 dance step as he becomes more attracted to the girl. 
 She is now evading, alluring, and reproving, while her 
 movements insensibly succumb more and more to the 
 dance music which has replaced the promenade tempo 
 of the first part. The third copla is the dance el baile; 
 capa, fan and manton are discarded for castanets. The 
 steps are of the Seguidillas type; the number ends with 
 the incredibly sudden transformation of a series of 
 rapid turns into a group as motionless as statuary. This 
 abrupt stop is a characteristic of Spanish dancing in 
 general that always has been commented on, and ap- 
 provingly, by its non-Spanish observers. 
 
 Las Malaguenas also employs mantilla and fan. 
 This sprightly member of the Seguidillas family has no 
 elements peculiar to itself, yet its insistent use of little 
 steps adapts it to rapid foot-work. Manchegas is of the
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 GROUPS IN "LA MALAGUENA Y EL TORERO." 
 (From work of Eduardo and Elisa Cansino.)
 
 146 THE DANCE 
 
 same nature. The two are often performed immedi- 
 ately after dances of less action, for the sake of variety. 
 
 "The Fandango inflames, the Bolero intoxicates," 
 wrote an enthusiast of other days. And in respect to 
 the latter the truth of his observation may be proved, 
 since the Bolero is still with us, and always intoxi- 
 cates every one of its spectators that is not deaf and 
 blind. 
 
 Its composition is attributed to Cerezo, a famous dan- 
 cer of the early part of the eighteenth century. Ma- 
 terial for speculation is furnished by one of its steps in 
 particular, the cuarta, identical with the ballet's entre- 
 chat-quatre. The invention of the entrechat is credited 
 to the French dancer Camargo, who was not born until 
 after the advent of the Bolero. The question is : Did 
 the Bolero take the cuarta from Camargo, or did she, 
 a progressive in her day, merely invent the name "entre- 
 chat" and apply it to a "lifted" cuarta? Certain it is 
 that it fits its requirements in the Bolero like a key in its 
 lock. It is used in a passage dedicated to brilliancy, 
 to which motive this twinkling, gravity-defying step is 
 suited above almost all others. As rendered by the 
 woman, it is dainty, as in the French ballet. But the 
 Spanish man treats it in a manner that puts it into a 
 category by itself, and transforms it from a little step 
 to an evolution that seems suddenly to occupy the entire 
 stage. 
 
 The cuarta at the height of the leap is only his be- 
 ginning. As he descends, he kicks one foot up and 
 backward, in a manner to give him a half-turn in the air. 
 The leg movement opens up the lines of the elevated 
 figure, giving it a sudden growth comparable to one of 
 those plants that the Oriental magician develops from
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS SPANISH NOTES. 
 
 Panaderos: group turning. The Bolero: a turn in the air. 
 
 The 70/a of Aragon : typical group. Castanets : Classic, tied to finger. 
 Las Sevillanas: use of primitive Flamenco, tied to thumb. 
 
 foot position. Seises of Seville Cathedral.
 
 148 THE DANCE 
 
 seed to maturity while you wink. The expansion is 
 augmented by the extension of the arms at the opportune 
 moment. Altogether, the spectator is prepared to be- 
 lieve that all physical law has been suspended in defer- 
 ence to the convenience of poetic motion. Davillier's 
 observation that "the Bolero intoxicates" is wholly in- 
 adequate. 
 
 The dance is in triple time, and arranged in three 
 parts. The second divides the work of the two per- 
 formers into solos, admitting whatever sensational steps 
 each chooses to present, so long as they conform to the 
 strong, aggressive style that tradition gives the dance. 
 In this part are the cuartas, which good Spanish per- 
 formers execute as cleanly as any French premiere. 
 The man's work may include a series of jumps, straight 
 up, opening the legs out to horizontal; not in itself an 
 attractive step, but an exaggeration of the idea of the 
 Bolero. Throughout, the work is vigourous and sharp, 
 of the character created by battements great and small, 
 coupes, and choppily executed brises. The management 
 of the castanets is a difficult addition to such vigourous 
 foot-work, and important. To sustain, or rather con- 
 stantly augment the excitement proper to the dance, 
 the crash of the recurrent "tr-r-ra, tak-ta ! tr-r-r-a, tak- 
 ta!" must never be dulled for an instant, nor fail of 
 perfection in rhythm. The double control is seldom ac- 
 quired by any but Spaniards, if ever, and even in Spain 
 it is none too common. 
 
 Every lover of dancing probably thinks of his favour- 
 ite compositions as personalities. "Queenly Sevillanas" 
 inevitably is the way of thinking of that flower of An- 
 dalusia. In similar manner memory puts together 
 words, "the noble Bolero." Brusque but fine, strong
 
 SPANISH DANCING 
 
 149 
 
 and justly proud, it sings of iron in the blood, as Sevil- 
 lanas exhales the spicy fragrance of hot night air. 
 
 Of los Panaderos the introductory measures are ded- 
 icated to the elaborate salutations appropriate to the 
 etiquette of other days. The dance in general follows 
 the motive of light coquetry through a pantomimic first 
 part, concluding with a dance of the Seguidillas type, 
 with castanets. Interest is enriched by the dance's 
 
 Two GROUPS IN "Los PANADEROS." 
 (From work of Eduardo and Elisa Cansino.) 
 
 proper costume. The girl's vestido de madronos has 
 been described in connection with another dance, and the 
 same reserved indulgence in the ornate is seen also in 
 the attire of the man. The velvet jacket permits sub- 
 dued but opulent colour ; instead of buttonholes it has a 
 lively design of cord loops. Down the sides of the 
 breeches runs a broad band of colour that would be too 
 violent were it not broken up by a superimposed band 
 of heavy black cord lace, through the open pattern of
 
 150 THE DANCE 
 
 which the background silk twinkles like jewels. It is 
 a costume to make an impression at a distance or to 
 tickle the eye on close inspection; the tasselled leather 
 leggings are delicately adorned with scroll-pattern 
 traced in stitching, and other details are elaborated with 
 the same minute care. 
 
 Of all the energetic dances of the land of the dance, 
 the one farthest from any concession to physical infirm- 
 ity is la Jota Aragonesa. Here is no vehicle for Anda- 
 lusian languor nor yet for the ceremonies of courts. 
 The industrious peasant of Aragon is hard of muscle 
 and strong of heart, and so is -his daughter, and their 
 strength is their pride. For indolence they have no 
 sympathy, be it in ermine or rags; and certainly if 
 indolence ever forgets itself and strays into the Jota, 
 it passes a bad five minutes. 
 
 It is a good, sound fruit of the soil, full of substance, 
 and inviting to the eye as good sound fruit may be. 
 No academy's hothouse care has been needed to develop 
 or protect it; the hand of the peasant has cultivated 
 without dirtying it. And that, when you look over the 
 history of dancing in some more progressive nations, 
 is a pretty significant thing. The people of Aragon are 
 not novelty-hunters. Perhaps that is why they have 
 been satisfied, while perfecting the dance of their prov- 
 ince, not to pervert it from its proper motive which 
 is to express in terms of poetry both the vigour and the 
 innocence of rustic, romping, boy-and-girl courtship. 
 
 A trace of stiffness of limb and angularity of move- 
 ment, proper to the Jota, imbue it with a continuous 
 hint of the rural grotesque. Yet, as the angular spire 
 of the Gothic cathedral need be no less graceful than 
 the rounded dome of the mosque, so the Jota concedes
 
 SPANISH DANCING 151 
 
 nothing in beauty to the more rolling movement of the 
 dance of Andalusia. It is broad and big of movement ; 
 the castanets most of the time are held strongly out at 
 arm's length. One of its many surprises is in the man- 
 ner of the pauses: the movement is so fast, the pauses 
 are so electrically abrupt, and the group (or "picture," 
 as our stage-folk call it) in which the dancers hold 
 themselves statue-like through a couple of measures is 
 so suddenly formed, that a layman's effort to understand 
 the transition would be like trying to analyse the move- 
 ments of the particles in a kaleidoscope. Out of a 
 dazzle of cross-tied white legs there snaps on to your 
 retina a vision of a couple face to face, each on one 
 knee ; one, two, three, four on each count the support- 
 ing knee comes up, its mate rhythmically bumps the 
 floor. One measure ; again they are in flight. Another 
 stop, as from a collision with some invisible but im- 
 movable body the girl is established in a seated posi- 
 tion on the floor, madly playing her castanets, the boy 
 flashing pirouettes around her. Bien parada, palomita! 
 pero anda! Another cyclone, a crescendo of energy in 
 the thump of sandalled feet and the pulse-lifting clat- 
 ter of castanets, and dead stop! She is impudently 
 perched on his knee. Raised with the paisanos around 
 you to the plane of the happy gods, you too are stand- 
 ing, shouting your rhythm-madness, tearing at scarf- 
 pin, bouquet or anything to throw to the performers. 
 
 Down to the tuning of the castanets is emphasised 
 the difference between this dance of the stalwart up- 
 landers and the more liquid expression of Andalusia. 
 It can be understood how, with the instruments fastened 
 to the thumb, and hanging so as not to touch the palm, 
 vibration is not interrupted after a blow from the finger ;
 
 152 THE DANCE 
 
 consequently they will ring when touched. The suc- 
 cessive taps of four skilful fingers on a castanet so hung 
 will make it sing, as is appropriate to the flowing dance 
 of the South. But change the tie from the thumb to 
 the two middle fingers and you change the voice: the 
 blow of a finger presses together the two halves of the 
 instrument, and throws both against the palm of the 
 hand ; vibration is stopped, and the report is a dry "tak" 
 or "tok," which is consistent with and contributory to 
 the crisp staccato sentiment of the Jota, with its kicking 
 treatment of a running pas .de bourree, swift pirouettes, 
 and abrupt starts and stops. 
 
 There is a certain paradoxical relationship between 
 the motives of step and music, perhaps peculiar to Spain, 
 that asserts itself most clearly in the Jota. That is, the 
 setting of brilliant dance-movement to the accompani- 
 
 I 
 
 PART OF THE "JOTA" OF ARAGON. 
 
 Showing rapid foot-work to slow music. Steps indicated by accents 
 under music. The melody above quoted is that of the old Jota. 
 
 ment of melodies of a sadness sometimes unearthly. 
 The juxtaposition does not always occur. When it 
 does, as in the old Jota of Aragon and las Soleares of 
 Andalusia, it is the very incarnation of the mysterious 
 magic of a magic land; it is the smile forcing back the 
 tear, words of wit spoken by the voice of sorrow. Or is 
 the foreigner mistaken? The peasant himself sees no 
 sorrow in the tunes, any more than in life.
 
 SPANISH DANCING 153 
 
 Thumping the foot-beats gives an idea of the rhythm 
 so far as related to the sound; but this fails more than 
 to hint at the effect of the music in combination with 
 the dance, because the dance so fills the conscious 
 attention that the music is less heard than felt. The 
 melody itself is unnoticed; but its underlying melan- 
 choly persistently cuts its way into the heart during the 
 very moments that vision is most madly happy. 
 
 True to her modest and serious character, the peasant 
 woman of Aragon puts on her manton like a shawl, 
 sternly concealing her figure. Her full, rustic skirt is 
 of dull-coloured cotton. For her no high-heeled shoes; 
 her foot-wear and her grandfather's is the practical 
 cord-soled sandal (alporgata) tied on with black cords, 
 which, on their background of white stocking, have a 
 coquettish look in spite of her. The man's dress is a 
 representation of simple strength, saved from sombre- 
 ness by well-disposed contrasting accents, few but bril- 
 liant. The lacing of the breeches slashed at the knee 
 echoes the tie of the sandals. The waistcoat and 
 breeches are black ; the sash worn very broad may be 
 either dull or bright; but the kerchief tied around the 
 head is of colour as strong as dyes will produce. Red 
 with a design of little black squares is characteristic 
 ornament of the province. 
 
 Valencia, too, has its Jota, but of movement more 
 fluid than that of Aragon. La Jota Valendand is 
 superficially distinguished by its employment of the tam- 
 bourine; the only dance in Spain with possible unim- 
 portant exceptions to accompany itself with this 
 instrument. In structure it is of the Seguidillas type, 
 the coincidence of the term Jota being without signifi- 
 cance.
 
 154 THE DANCE 
 
 To go into a discussion of the dances of the northern 
 provinces Cataluna, the Basque provinces, Galicia, 
 Leon and others would in most instances be to digress 
 from the theme of Spanish dancing in any but a geo- 
 graphical sense. The dances of the northern region 
 that are Spanish in type are of the Seguidillas family 
 already described, and without special pertinence to the 
 locality. Conversely, the dances that are indigenous to 
 and characteristic of the North are not of the type gen- 
 erally and properly known as Spanish, but, in respect to 
 everything but geography, pertain to the character 
 dances of western Europe. True, the Fandango is seen 
 in the Basque provinces; but it is a stray from other 
 parts. Galicia has a pantomime of oafish courtship. A 
 dance characteristic of Quipuzcoa was described to us 
 by Tencita : glasses of wine were set on the floor, of the 
 same number as the dancers, all of whom were men. 
 At a given time every one would jump from a consid- 
 erable distance and to a good height with the aim of 
 missing his glass by a minimum margin. This exercise 
 or dance, by charity of definition is performed after 
 important matches of the provincial game of pelota. 
 Being of the general style of racquets, control of place- 
 ment of the feet follows. Many of the dances, says 
 Tencita, are rounds. Of these the salient feature is the 
 man's lift of his partner. Some of those iron-shoul- 
 dered mountaineers, grasping the girl's waist in two 
 big hands, lift her straight up to arm's-length. But 
 this, to repeat, is Spanish only by grace of political 
 boundary lines. The same feat is described in a French 
 rustic dance of the Middle Ages. So long as the tradi- 
 tion of round dancing joins the performers' hands to 
 one another, choreographic art can hardly exist.
 
 SPANISH DANCING 155 
 
 It is doubtful if the North has carried to the superla- 
 tive any of the qualities of real dancing. In pure deco- 
 rative beauty; variety and force of expression; scope 
 of motive ; happy contrasts of treatment briefly, in the 
 art of the dance, Andalusia speaks the final word. 
 Who wishes natural pantomime need only call a Gipsy. 
 Mimica more delicate is that of Toreo Espanol or el 
 Vito, both narrating the placing of banderillas, defence 
 with the cape, and the final despatch of a bull. In a 
 combination of strong movement with speed and grace, 
 there does not exist in this world a dance-form to excel 
 the Jota of Aragon. 
 
 The home of Spanish dancing is south of the latitude 
 of Madrid, in the flowery region that the caliphs ruled. 
 The pilgrim in search of dancing, therefore, shall not 
 unsaddle until the nearest hilltop shows the ruins of a 
 Moorish castle. By that token he will know that he has 
 come to the land of grapes and fighting bulls, destitution 
 and wit, black eyes, guitar and song, enchantment. 
 There he may sell his horse; where falls the shadow of 
 a castle of the Moors, on that soil blooms the dance. 

 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 ITALIAN DANCES 
 
 PAST are the splendid pageants of the Medici, nor 
 do the floors of Castel San Angelo remember the 
 caress of the winged feet of choral dancers. The 
 classic ballet, heir of the dances and masques of courts, 
 preserves their stately charm ; while their choreographic 
 wit lives on in dances that are at once their ancestors 
 and their survivors. An intermediate generation of 
 dances represented the day of a society cultivated 
 to artificiality. The dances of the people, on the con- 
 trary, are rooted in the soil and cared for by wholesome 
 tradition. Including, as they do, many of the steps 
 from which the ballet was derived, there is material for 
 interesting speculation in their continued vigour. 
 
 In the Forlana of Venice, with its old-fashioned steps, 
 is found a delicate mimetic synopsis of the world-old 
 tale of the young wife, the elderly husband, and the 
 dashing interloper; the theme immortalised by the pen 
 of Boccaccio, in his collection of the stories that passed 
 the time during the ten days when the court exiled itself 
 in the hills to avoid a pestilence in Florence. The ac- 
 companying illustrations of the dance have the benefit 
 of the knowledge of two graduates of the academy of 
 la Scala, both children of teachers in that institution: 
 Madame Saracco-Brignole and Stephen Mascagni. 
 Both are enthusiastic performers of their country's char- 
 acter dances; Mascagni, indeed, with his wife as part- 
 
 156
 
 "L,A TARANTELLA" 
 Opening of the dance A poor collection 
 
 They gamble for it: the game La Morra 
 She wins He wins
 
 "LA TARANTELLA" 
 
 An arabesque 
 Finish of a phrase A typical moment 
 
 TT* ' \\ f U
 
 ITALIAN DANCES 157 
 
 ner, makes the Tarantella an important feature of his 
 repertoire. The trio in la Forlana was completed with 
 the assistance of Mile. Louise La Gai, as Columbina, 
 Madame Saracco-Brignole and Sr. Mascagni repre- 
 senting Doctor Pantalone and Harlequin, respectively, 
 completing the little cast. 
 
 As a stock character in other pantomimes and farces, 
 Doctor Pantalone's characteristics, both mental and 
 physical, are so clearly defined that he has the reality 
 of an acquaintance. In brief, he represents self-sure- 
 ness and self-importance, with a weakness of revealing 
 complete misinformation through indulgence in a habit 
 of correcting the statements of others. Light-headed 
 Columbina and mischief-making Harlequin are their 
 familiar selves. The Forlana is a composition essen- 
 tially of tableaux, with steps of the dance serving to 
 lead from one picture to another. 
 
 Harlequin's freedom with Columbina is resented by 
 the elderly husband, who threatens the intruder with a 
 cane. The frivolous young people dance away, after 
 a mock-heroic pretence by Harlequin of protecting his 
 inamorata from her husband. They begin a series of 
 groups made to tantalise the dotard, whose possession 
 of the young woman has clearly ceased to exist. Har- 
 lequin embraces her, gazes into her eyes, raises her to 
 his shoulder, kisses her, and is otherwise familiar, while 
 Pantalone storms and pleads. Perching aloft with her 
 partner's support in the various ways known to dancers 
 of an acrobatic genius, Columbina reaches out to her 
 spouse the tip of a finger, in smiling sarcasm. Panta- 
 lone later is reduced to kissing the little foot that from 
 time to time kicks upward as the lovers play. When at 
 length even that is the occasion of a dignified protest
 
 158 THE DANCE 
 
 from Harlequin, the defeated one withdraws from an 
 unequal competition and gives the couple his blessing. 
 
 Pantalone, apart from his relation to the Forlana, is 
 one of a group of characters attached to the various 
 Italian states as allegorical representatives. To Sar- 
 dinia, for instance, pertains a soldierly looking youth 
 called Maschara Sarda. Bologna has its Doctor Balan- 
 zone; Florence, Stenterello; Rome, Rugantino; Naples, 
 Pulcinella and this is to enumerate only a few out of 
 a number slightly in excess of the number of states. 
 These mythical beings are neither heroes nor carica- 
 tures, nor are they supposed at all to portray the quali- 
 ties typical of the population they represent. Their 
 associations seem to be without underlying significance, 
 but they are none the less indissoluble in the mind of 
 the Italian. Those who have most cause to love them 
 are the writers of popular comedies; the simple device 
 of putting a Balanzone or a Rugantino among the char- 
 acters of the play makes possible a direct expression of 
 ideas purporting to be those of the state itself. Such 
 lines, regardless of the literary tone of the play, are 
 customarily delivered in the local dialect of the region 
 represented. 
 
 It is the Tarantella that the world at large accepts 
 as Italy's national dance; and rightly enough, since 
 there is none whose popularity is more nearly general 
 through the land. It is rather identified with Naples. 
 There it is said to be the amusement that the younger 
 working people think of first, when leisure allows the 
 thought of any amusement at all ; but it is very popular, 
 too, through the South. 
 
 It is a breezy, animated dance, varied with panto- 
 mime not very profound, to be sure, but at least merry
 
 "LA TARANTELLA" 
 
 Opening of the dance A turn back-to-back 
 
 A pause after rapid foot-work
 
 2 i-5 
 
 w 2
 
 ITALIAN DANCES 159 
 
 with character. The mimetic action concerns the vary- 
 ing luck of la morra, that game that consists in guess- 
 ing at the number of fingers open on the opponent's 
 suddenly revealed hand; perhaps the only gambling 
 game for which every one is born with full equipment 
 of implements. To a votary, every glance at his own 
 five fingers must seem a temptation to seek a game. 
 For whatever reason, it seems to be a necessary element 
 in the life of the Italian labourer. The moment of the 
 Tarantella given over to la morra is, as it were, an 
 acknowledgment of its place among the people's recre- 
 ations. 
 
 As castanets are to the dances of Spain, the tam- 
 bourine is to those of Italy. Like castanets, the tam- 
 bourine produces an amazing variety of tones when 
 handled by an expert. The effect its jovial emphasis of 
 tempo has on the enthusiasm of dancer and spectator 
 need not be dwelt upon ; again sobriety succumbs before 
 rhythm's twofold attack on eye and ear together. Vi- 
 vacity is insistent, too, in the colours of the Neapolitan 
 costume. The tambourine is dressed in ribbons, char- 
 acteristically the national red, white, and stinging green. 
 Stripes as brilliant as caprice may suggest adorn the 
 girl's head-dress, apron and skirt. Nor must her more 
 substantial finery be forgotten; until a responsible age 
 is attained by children of her own, she is guardian of an 
 accumulating collection of necklaces and earrings, 
 bracelets and rings that are as a family symbol of re- 
 spectability. Just as in other nations the inherited table 
 silver is brought out to grace occasions of rejoicing, 
 the Neapolitan young woman on like occasion exhibits 
 gold, silver and gay red coral in adornment of her per- 
 son adding much to the sparkle of the Tarantella.
 
 160 THE DANCE 
 
 The boy (in these and the pictures of la Ciociara 
 represented by Mile. La Gai) has a necktie as red as 
 dyes will yield, and a long fisherman's cap of the same 
 colour. It is Italian stage tradition, by the way, that 
 the Neapolitan fisher boy's trouser-legs should be rolled 
 up to slightly different heights. 
 
 The dance itself is full of pretty groups, well spiced 
 with moods. The steps are happily varied and well 
 composed. There are many turns, the boy frequently 
 assisting with the familiar spiral twist of the girl's up- 
 raised hands a device that, with any execution back of 
 it, always produces a pleasant effect. The turns also 
 are highly enhanced in value when, as they frequently 
 do, they terminate so as to bring the dancers into an 
 effective embrace. Preparation for a pirouette by both 
 dancers is utilised, at one point, as a pretext for some 
 delightfully grotesque poses. 
 
 It is a dance worthy of study and performance by art- 
 ists, and of the enthusiasm of appreciators of good work. 
 In Corinne occurs a passage reflecting its impression on 
 Madame de Stael. The following selections seem most 
 suggestive of the effect produced: ". . . beating the 
 air with her tambourine in all her movements showing 
 a grace, a lissomeness, a blending of modesty and aban- 
 don, which gave the spectator some idea of the power 
 exercised over the imagination by the Indian dancing- 
 girls, when they are, so to speak, poets in the dance, ex- 
 pressing varied feelings by characteristic steps and pic- 
 turesque attitudes. Corinne was so well acquainted 
 with the different attitudes which painters and sculptors 
 have depicted, that by a slight movement of her arms, 
 holding the tambourine sometimes above her head, some- 
 times in front of her, while the other hand ran over the
 
 "LA CIOCIARA" 
 
 Opening promenade (i, 2) End of promenade (3) He has "made eyes" at a 
 spectator (4) Opening of dance (second movement) (5) 
 
 To face page 160
 
 "LA CIOCIARA" 
 
 Rustic affection Again caught in perfidy 
 
 Tries to make amends 
 Without success Removed from temptation 
 
 To face page 161
 
 ITALIAN DANCES 161 
 
 bells with incredible swiftness, she would recall the dan- 
 cing girls of Herculaneum, and present before the eye of 
 the painter or artist one idea after another in swift suc- 
 cession. It was not French dancing, so remarkable for 
 the elegance and difficulty of its steps; it was a talent 
 much more closely related to imagination and feeling. 
 The mood was expressed alternately by exactness or 
 softness of movement. Corinne, dancing, made the on- 
 lookers share her feelings, just as if she were improvis- 
 ing, playing the lyre, or designing figures ; every motion 
 was to her as expressive as spoken language." 
 
 The similarity between the words Tarantella, and 
 "tarantula," a large and poisonous spider, causes endless 
 speculation to the end of establishing a more than etymo- 
 logical relation between the two. One author seriously 
 affirms that the dance is a standard rural remedy for the 
 bite of the insect, the energetic movement starting a 
 perspiration that relieves the system of poison. Various 
 German physicians have written reports on the subject, 
 generally ending with a statement that the said antidote 
 for poison is of doubtful efficacy ! Approaching the sub- 
 ject from another angle, the word tarantismos is discov- 
 ered: a species of hysteria common in Calabria and 
 Apulia, and (by etymology) attributed to the bites of 
 tarantulas to be found in those parts. But along comes 
 another learned person who finds that tarantismos is not 
 due to tarantula bites, but to certain molluscs that Cal- 
 abrians and Apulians customarily include in their food 
 regime ! He harks back to a certain dancing mania that 
 was more or less epidemic in Europe during a period of 
 the Middle Ages, a hysterical condition found curable by 
 violent dancing. Whence he induces that the Tarantella 
 derives its name from tarantismos, and that it originated
 
 162 THE DANCE 
 
 as a cure for neurasthenia. Still another finds that the 
 ailment causes hysterical movements, "similar to dan- 
 cing!" and flatters the Tarantella with this spasmodic 
 origin. Again, a grave experimenter finds that taran- 
 tulas, placed on floats in water so that they will be dis- 
 inclined to run away, will move their feet in time to 
 music. He does not ask us to infer from this that the 
 steps of the dance were so originated and composed, but 
 in the cause of general joyousness he might have, and 
 that without much damage to the accumulated erudition 
 on the subject. 
 
 All the Latin countries, no less than Scotland and Ire- 
 land, have their Jig. In Italy, as elsewhere, it is a com- 
 position of rapid clog and shuffle steps. More than most 
 Occidental countries Italy has a lingering fondness for 
 pantomime; doubtless as a heritage from the theatre of 
 Rome, and increased through centuries of political in- 
 trigue that sometimes made the spoken word inadvisable. 
 Like the Forlana, la Ciociara of Romagna is an example 
 of choreographic pantomime carried to a high pitch of 
 narrative quality. It represents a heavy-footed shep- 
 herd and his wife, and their unpaid efforts to collect 
 coins for music and dancing during their visit to the 
 village. 
 
 After a little promenade to the music of the pipe, or 
 plffara, that has descended unchanged from the days of 
 the shepherds on the slope of Mount Ida, and the tam- 
 bourine of equally venerable age, the tambourine is 
 passed before an imaginary circle of auditors. The im- 
 aginary coins failing to come forth, the couple impul- 
 sively decide to dance anyway, for their own amuse- 
 ment. The dance proper is of the flowing style of the 
 Tarantella, but includes only the simpler steps. An
 
 ITALIAN DANCES 163 
 
 important contribution to the amusing character of the 
 performance is a bit of by-play that begins after the 
 work has apparently terminated: the shepherd, oaf 
 though he is, expresses an interest in a pretty face in 
 the audience, and even a belief that his interest is re- 
 ciprocated. He is roundly scolded by his wife, soothes 
 her feelings, and at last retires under a not misplaced 
 surveillance. 
 
 The Saltarello, an old and lively step-dance identified 
 with Rome, and including several steps of the Tarantella, 
 completes the list of popular dances for which Italy is 
 famous. Other names there are in abundance, but of 
 dances identified with their localities. La Siciliana is a 
 delicate but insufficiently varied product of the island 
 from which it has its name. Messina has a pantomimic 
 dance known as la Rugger a; Florence its Trescona, and 
 so on indefinitely. Of these, such as have any choreo- 
 graphic interest are said to owe it to the Tarantella. Of 
 many the interest is chiefly historical, since they are 
 woven into one tissue with old songs and old legends. 
 Poetic and altogether fascinating as such compositions 
 frequently are, however, their prevailing lack of the 
 essential qualities of dancing makes discussion of them 
 inappropriate to a book on that subject. On the other 
 hand, the highly characteristic flavour of the music and 
 the words of their accompanying songs makes them a 
 fascinating study under the heads of folk-lore and folk- 
 music, in which connection they are the subject of sev- 
 eral writings of great interest.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING IN GENERAL 
 
 TO people who toil long hours at confining work 
 that requires care and skill, there comes at the 
 end of the day a craving for exercise that will 
 release the mind from the constraint of attention, that 
 will let the muscles play with vigour and abandon. In 
 response to this demand of nature there exists one class 
 of folk-dancing the genre of the careless, energetic 
 romp of people bedecked in bright colours, joining hands 
 now to form themselves in rings, or again in interweav- 
 ing lines, improvising figures, heedless of step except the 
 simplest skipping and balancing. 
 
 Acting contrariwise to the influence of daily labour in- 
 volving skill and attention, is the force of habitual work 
 that does not require enough precision to satisfy the 
 healthy craving for fine co-ordination of muscle, nerve 
 and mind. The latter condition, too, moves to the dance. 
 But here, in the case of a people whose potency of skill 
 is not spent in the day's work, the dance is likely to 
 assume forms of such precision and elaboration that its 
 performance requires considerable training, and such 
 beauty that it attains to the plane of art. 
 
 These two divisions are far from exact; many influ- 
 ences modify them. But they serve as a beginning of 
 the process of separating the gems of folk-dancing from 
 the mass of that which bears a superficial sparkle but is 
 
 without intrinsic choreographic value. 
 
 164
 
 SCOTCH " SWORD DANCE" 
 Miss Margaret Crawford and partner 
 
 The steps and jumps bring the feet as close to the sword as is possible without 
 
 touching it
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 165 
 
 The second supposition, of a people engaged at work 
 not sufficiently exacting in finesse to satisfy their craving 
 for skilled co-ordination, may be taken to indicate a 
 merely healthy race whose daily tasks require no finer 
 technique than the ordinary labour of a farm; in such 
 category might be put the peasants of Aragon. The 
 same relation would exist between a people less virile and 
 a form of daily labour still less concerned with skill, as 
 the Andalusians. Or again, it is valid in the case of a 
 community engaged in crafts requiring fine workman- 
 ship, if that community be of people endowed with nerv- 
 ous energy in excess of the requirements of the day's 
 work ; and that is the condition in those eternally youth- 
 ful nations, Scotland and Ireland. 
 
 National sense of beauty is a factor in the determina- 
 tion of the dances of a country. The Latins have it. 
 The Italians and Spanish have the leisure to practice its 
 expression. The French, on the contrary, direct their 
 energies into work of pecuniary value, and their accept- 
 ance of the doctrine of accumulation keeps their atten- 
 tion where it will be paid. Pierre and Laurette frolic 
 with the neighbours on the green, in the moonlight, in 
 what they call a dance. It gives them exercise and 
 many a laugh. But when they would see beauty, they 
 patronise its specialised exponent, the ballet. 
 
 "Folk-dancing" is practically synonymous with "char- 
 acter dancing/' or, as the word is frequently formed in 
 literal translation of its French original, "characteristic 
 dancing." It means what it implies, an exposition of 
 the characteristics of the people to whom it pertains. 
 Energy or dreaminess, fire or coolness, and a multitude 
 of other qualities are bound to assert themselves, auto- 
 matically; to any one who can even half read their
 
 166 THE DANCE 
 
 language, character dances are an open book of intimate 
 personal revelation. The portrayal of sports or trades, 
 which is the sort of thing with which many folk-dances 
 are concerned, does not detract from their interest as 
 expositors of national temperament. Though it may 
 be noted that, in general, the more a dance occupies itself 
 with imitation, the less its value as a dance. 
 
 Not least of the elements of interest attaching to these 
 dances is the measure they apply to national vitality or 
 the lack of it. Through the form and execution of 
 its dance, the nation as yet half-barbarous reveals vital 
 potentiality; the people that has luxuriated in centuries 
 of power displays its lassitude of nerve; and the young 
 political organism shows marks of senility at birth. 
 The aboriginal savage, huge-limbed, bounds through 
 dances fitted to the limitations of muscles that cannot be 
 controlled by brain, and the limitations of brain that can- 
 not invent or sustain attention; his dance exposes him 
 as of a race not in its youthful vigour, but in the degen- 
 eracy wrought less by time than by manner of living. 
 The Indian of North America is dying of age ; the Rus- 
 sian is in his youth. 
 
 The list of forces that make and preserve a 1 nation's 
 dances is incomplete without the addition of the some- 
 times powerful element of national pride. This un- 
 doubtedly enters into the high cultivation of the dances 
 of Scotland. The industry, thrift and all-round prac- 
 tical nature of the Scotch need not be enlarged upon. 
 Though they do not lack appreciation of beauty, they 
 consider it a luxury for only limited indulgence, except 
 as it is provided by nature. But the Sword Dance and 
 the Fling of their warring ancestors are as though asso- 
 ciated with the holy cause of freedom. On many a
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 167 
 
 Highland battlefield they have been stepped; they have 
 wet their scurrying feet in spilled blood. 
 
 To learn Scotch dancing takes time, precious time. 
 But it is time spent on a decent and a fitting thing ; they 
 are Scotch ! Scotch as the thistle itself ! From pulpits 
 have come, at times, objections to them; from armed 
 camps and lairds' halls of other days has come the 
 answer, far but clear : that Scottish chiefs, godly men as 
 well as brave, trod their Flings in celebration of victories 
 dear to memory. It is enough. The cult of the dance 
 has continued, unchecked by the inability of occasional 
 well-meaning divines to see its significance. 
 
 Caesar "commented" upon the fighting qualities of the 
 Pictij built a wall to keep them off from the Anglia that 
 he had conquered, and decided not to push his conquests 
 farther north. The fighting spirit of those tartaned 
 clansmen never has softened and has had much occupa- 
 tion throughout the subsequent centuries ; and attaching 
 to it is an epic, a saga, in the shape of the Sword Dance. 
 
 Around the Sword Dance in particular the Scotch 
 people group associations. In earlier times its perform- 
 ance was customary on the eve of battle to relieve ten- 
 sion, to exhibit self-control, and, perhaps most impor- 
 tant of all, to test fortune. To touch with the foot the 
 crossed sword or scabbard between and about which the 
 dancing warrior picked his steps was an omen of ill for 
 the individual or his comrades. In present-day competi- 
 tions, the ill luck following this error is evident ; to touch 
 the sword or scabbard with the foot eliminates the offen- 
 der from the contest. 
 
 The Highland Fling, in distinction from the above, 
 symbolises victory or rejoicing. With the other dances 
 of Scotland, it has been highly formalised. Moreover,
 
 168 THE DANCE 
 
 * 
 
 its routine, steps, and the proper execution of each are 
 so clearly defined and generally understood that any 
 change in them is immediately resented by any Scotch 
 audience. 
 
 Every one has seen Scotch dances; any detailed an- 
 alysis of them would be superfluous. Exhilarating as 
 Highland whiskey, sharp as the thistle, they are carried 
 to a high plane of art. Through them all runs a homo- 
 geneous angularity of movement that literally translates 
 the sentiment of "Caledonia, stern and wild." To the 
 dances of Italy and Andalusia they are as wind-blown 
 mountain pines in contrast to orange trees fanned by 
 Mediterranean zephyrs. The theme of the sharp angle 
 is kept absolutely intact, unmodified by any element of 
 sweep or curve that the eye can detect. The essential 
 steps are two, with variations: the kicking step of the 
 Schottische Militaire, of frequent mention on ballroom 
 programmes of twenty-five years ago; and battements, 
 great and small. It will be seen that these are perfectly 
 of a kind. The surprising thing is the variety derived 
 from combinations of these two elements with simple 
 turns, simple jumps, and little if anything else of foot- 
 work. The result serves, from a purely analytical point 
 of view, as an admirable demonstration of the value of 
 a simple theme intelligently insisted on. 
 
 Spirit, of course, is another factor of great importance 
 in making Scotch dances what they are. A Scotch 
 dancer without spirit could not be imagined. Spanish 
 dancers sometimes work coldly, ballet dancers often; 
 but a Scotch dancer never. The first note of the bag- 
 pipes inflames him. 
 
 With the rigourous definition of step, technique and 
 style that attaches to these dances, and the thoroughness
 
 Hoisting sail 
 Type of step 
 
 THE "SAILOR'S HORNPIPE' 
 Look-out 
 
 Rowing 
 Hoisting sail 
 
 Hauling in rope 
 Type of step 
 
 To face page 169
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 169 
 
 of popular understanding of all that pertains to them, 
 the Scotch public is qualified to exercise upon dancing 
 the essential functions of a national academy. Stand- 
 ards are maintained by knowledge on the part of spec- 
 tators. Indifference of performance or freedom with 
 forms is quickly reproved. Nor, on the other hand, 
 need any performer remain in ignorance as to just what 
 details of his execution are lacking; among his friends 
 there are plenty of capable critics. We noted the same 
 conditions in Aragon, where the general love of the Jota 
 probably would have kept its standards of execution, 
 even without the aid of professional teachers and cer- 
 tainly do protect it against the subtracting process 
 effected by adding novelties. In Italy the Tarantella is 
 cultivated in the same way, in Little Russia the Cossack 
 Dance, and in Hungary the Czardas. And it is the 
 force of educated public interest behind them that sus- 
 tains them in a class approached, in requirements of 
 skill, by few other character dances. 
 
 The accompanying illustrations from work by Miss 
 Margaret Crawford and partner demonstrate the inter- 
 esting fact that the Scotch, developing their school of 
 execution along the lines dictated by their own keen dis- 
 cernment, arrive at a conclusion in important respects 
 identical with the creed of the classic ballet. It is possi- 
 ble that the dances of mountain and heather were influ- 
 enced by the Pavane and the Minuet in their day for 
 Queen Mary had her masques and balls and pageants, 
 like other monarchs of her time. But even that will not 
 account for the clean, sharp brilliancy of a Highlander's 
 battement or ballone. In so many essentials his dances 
 are at variance with those of the seventeenth-century 
 courts that their excellence must be attributed to a na-
 
 170 THE DANCE 
 
 tional instinct for true quality of beauty. The splen- 
 didly erect carriage of the body, the straight knee of 
 the supporting leg during a step, as well as the crisp, 
 straight-knee execution of a grand battement (the 
 Scotch and other dancers do not use the French desig- 
 nation of steps, but the general observer may well do 
 so for the sake of clearness), might have come direct 
 from the French Academy. This identity is in manner, 
 it will be understood, more than in matter. Like all 
 character dancing, the Scotch includes in its vocabulary 
 positions and steps that the ballet ignores. Placing the 
 hands on the hips ; the heel on the ground and the toe up ; 
 and a "rocking" step, consisting of rolling from side to 
 side on the sides of the feet these and other devices are 
 of the dances of outdoors. In the case of the Scotch 
 they are so admirably incorporated into the scheme of 
 sharp line and movement that go to make a staccato unit 
 that through the sheer magic worked by cohesion of 
 theme they avoid the plebeian appearance into which 
 such movements fall when not artfully combined. 
 
 The Scotch Reel has a good deal in common with the 
 Fling, and is of the same general character. It is cus- 
 tomarily performed by two couples. Its distinguishing 
 feature is a figure eight, traced by a little promenade, 
 each of the performers winding in and out among the 
 other three. Even this promenade is performed in a 
 sharp skipping step, that the dance may lose none of its 
 national flavour. A variation of this dance is the Reel 
 of Tulloch, popular in all parts of Scotland, and dis- 
 tinguished principally by its history. Legend places its 
 origin in a country church, in winter ; while the congre- 
 gation waited for the belated minister, they danced to 
 keep warm, and in the course of the dancing evolved a
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 171 
 
 choreographic composition that made their village fa- 
 mous. The Strathspey alluded to in literature appears 
 also to have been a variety of the Reel. 
 
 The Shean Treuse, a rollicking dance that covers a 
 good deal of ground, is according to legend the repre- 
 sentation of a small boy's delight with his first pair of 
 trousers. Naturally, it is based on a series of prancing 
 steps, in each of which the leg is brought to horizontal 
 to keep the trousers in evidence. 
 
 This concludes the list of the well-known dances of 
 Scotland. Of the number the most representative, or 
 one may say classic, are the Sword Dance and the Fling. 
 
 England has to her credit one dance, notwithstanding 
 all that has been said and written to the disparagement 
 of her originality in the arts ; and, with execution to help 
 it, a very respectable dance it is, as well as a monument 
 to a social element that has contributed powerfully to 
 England's rank among the nations. The dance is the 
 Sailor's Hornpipe. 
 
 It is a dance of character in the truest sense, being 
 based on the movements associated with the sailor's 
 duties. Accompanying himself with a tuneful patter of 
 foot-work, the performer pantomimes hauling at ropes, 
 rowing, standing watch, and sundry other duties of the 
 sea-dog who dealt with sails and not with coal. The 
 hands are placed on the hips palm out, to avoid touching 
 the clothing with the tar that as everybody knows 
 always covered the palms of the deep-sea sailor. While 
 not in any sense a great dance, it is uncommonly in- 
 genious and amusing in its combination of patter of 
 steps and earnest pantomime. It is literally a sailor's 
 chantey sung in the terms of movement instead of 
 words of mouth; even to its division into short stanzas
 
 172 THE DANCE 
 
 (one for each of the duties represented) the parallel is 
 exact. Its place in the dancing art might be defined as 
 the same as the position of the sailor's chantey in music. 
 
 In England there has been a recent and earnest re- 
 vival of the Morris Dances, accompanied by a good deal 
 of writing on the subject. In England they have the 
 importance of being English. They are "quaint," it is 
 true. They reflect the romping, care-free spirit of 
 Merry England ; they bring to the cheek of buxom lass 
 the blush of health ; they are several centuries old ; they 
 follow the antique usage of performance to accompani- 
 ment sung by the dancers. But their composition and 
 its absence commends them to the attention of the anti- 
 quarian and the sociologist, rather than that of a seeker 
 after evolved dancing. 
 
 The word "Morris," according to the suggestion of- 
 fered by certain scholars, is a corruption of "Moorish" ; 
 which theory of its derivation is not confirmed by step, 
 movement or sentiment to be found in the dance. What 
 does seem reasonably possible is that it is of Gipsy 
 derivation. Gipsies are sometimes known in Scotland 
 at least as "Egyptians" ; so why not, by a similar abey- 
 ance of accuracy in England, as Moors? a process of 
 near-reasoning the value of whose conclusion is nothing 
 at all. At any rate, the Morris dancers have a tradition 
 of hanging, little bells around their arms and legs, and 
 decorating themselves with haphazard streamers of rib- 
 bon, which is Gipsy-esque. Stories are recorded to the 
 effect that there have been performers who tuned their 
 bells, and by the movements of the dance played tunes on 
 them. The stories offer no definite information as to the 
 quality of dance or music. 
 
 The Morris seems to have been a dance for men only,
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 173 
 
 in which respect it was unique among the old English 
 forms unearthed in the recent revival of interest. Many 
 of these dances certainly are interesting, if not in actual 
 choreographic merit, in association. Their very names 
 are rich in flavour, such as All in a Garden Green, The 
 Old Maid in Tears, Hemp stead Heath, Greensleeves 
 (mentioned in The Merry Wives of Windsor), Wasp's 
 Maggott, Dull Sir John, and others equally suggestive of 
 rustic naturalness and fun. Their revivals by Miss 
 Coles and Miss Chaplin include full directions for per- 
 formance, which is simple. Several of them preserve 
 the ancient usage of saluting the partner with a kiss 
 which is not mentioned as a warning, but as an observa- 
 tion merely. 
 
 England has been among the nations to preserve the 
 institution of dancing around a pole among the Eng- 
 lish-speaking so commonly known as the "Maypole" that 
 its use in the celebration of anything but the coming of 
 spring seems incongruous. Other peoples, neverthe- 
 less, incorporate it into religious celebrations and what- 
 not. The device of suspending ribbons from the top of 
 the pole, and weaving them around it by means of an in- 
 terlacing figure described by the dancers, seems to be 
 universal. The steps employed are the simplest possible 
 those of the Waltz, Polka, or Schottische, varied per- 
 haps with an occasional turn. It is another instance of 
 a semiformalised romp called by the title of dance. In 
 passing it may be noted that the Maypole has become a 
 part of the Mayday celebration of the New York public 
 school children and those of other cities, for anything 
 we know to the contrary. Some hundreds of poles dis- 
 tributed over a green, each with its brightly coloured 
 group twinkling around it, tickles the eye with a feast
 
 174 THE DANCE 
 
 of sparkle, at least. The same outing is the occasion 
 of an exhibition of the character dancing that the chil- 
 dren have learned as part of their school work during 
 the preceding year. The exhibited skill is higher than 
 one would expect, and remarkable, considering the dif- 
 ficulties in the way of imparting it. In one direction the 
 celebration probably attains to the superlative: its par- 
 ticipants numbering as they do well up in the thousands, 
 and occupying about a quarter-section of ground, there 
 is nothing in history to indicate that it does not consti- 
 tute, in point of sheer size and numbers, the biggest 
 ballet the world has ever seen. 
 
 Ireland has a group of dances exclusively her own, 
 unique in structure, and developed to the utmost limit of 
 their line of excellence. Their distinguishing property 
 is complicated rhythmic music of the feet. The Jig, the 
 Reel and the Hornpipe of Ireland are at once the most 
 difficult and the most highly elaborated dances of the clog 
 and shufBe type that can be found. In them are pas- 
 sages in which the feet tap the floor seventy-five times in 
 a quarter of a minute. 
 
 They have, too, the art that interprets the character 
 of their people. But it is not the Irishman of the comic 
 supplement that they reveal. Rather, by means of their 
 own vocabulary of suggestion, the eloquence of which 
 begins where words fail, they present the acute Hiber- 
 nian wit that animates the brain of Irishmen like Shaw. 
 Intricate combinations of keen, exact steps, the Irish 
 dances are a series of subtle epigrams directed to the eye. 
 And like the epigrams that proceed from true wit, they 
 are expressed so modestly that their significance may be 
 quite lost on an intelligence not in sympathy with the 
 manner of thought that lies back of them. To the end
 
 IRISH DANCES 
 Mr. Thomas Hill and Mr. Patrick Walsh 
 
 The Jig (\, 3, 4) The Hornpipe (2, 5) The Reel (6, 7, 8)
 
 A "FOUR-HAND REEL" 
 
 Preparation for woman's turn under arms (i) Characteristic style (2) 
 A turning group figure (3)
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 175 
 
 of convincing us onlookers that this everyday world is 
 made up of nothing but happiness, the music of tapping 
 shoe flatters our senses without shame, chloroforms rea- 
 son and shows us the truth that our minds at least will 
 float in the air like dancers' bodies, if we but abandon 
 them to the rhythmic charm that coaxes them to forget 
 their sluggishness. Irish dancing has too often been 
 the victim of caricature. In all truth, its refined in- 
 tricacy makes it cousin rather to the Book of Kells, 
 whose ancient decoration of rich yet simple interlace- 
 ment gives it place among the masterpieces of the book- 
 designer's art. 
 
 The intent of the art of Irish dancing is the sooner 
 understood by a word of negative description to begin 
 with: namely, it is at the opposite pole from dancing of 
 posture, broad movement, or pantomime. All its re- 
 sources, on the contrary, are concentrated in making 
 music of the feet. Happy music it is, with lightness of 
 execution as a part of it. That no incident may distract 
 attention from foot-work, the body is held almost un- 
 deviatingly erect, and the arms passive at the sides ; and 
 this is in accordance with unquestioned usage. 
 
 Among the dancers represented in the accompanying 
 photographs is Mr. Thomas Hill, four times winner of 
 the championship of Ireland. "The thing of greatest 
 importance in Irish dancing," Mr. Hill says, "is the 
 music of the shoes. In the eleven years that I have been 
 dancing, the greater part of my attention has been spent 
 on the development and control of the variety of tones 
 that can be produced by taps of heels and soles on the 
 floor and against each other. Style is necessary, of 
 course, as in any other dancing, and so is exactness in 
 'tricky' time. But control of a good variety of sounds,
 
 176 THE DANCE 
 
 
 
 which is the most difficult part of Irish dancing, is the 
 most important because it is the most Irish." 
 
 Once in a great while coincidence puts one in the way 
 of hearing the work of a virtuoso on the snare-drum. 
 Within a minute the effect is found to be nothing less 
 than hypnotic. Every one within hearing is patting 
 time, swaying with the time, restraining the most urgent 
 impulse to do something that will bring every fibre of his 
 body into unison with that inebriating rhythm. Now, the 
 feet of a fine Irish dancer are drumsticks as amenable to 
 control as the drummer's ; notes long and short, dull and 
 sharp he has all the drum's variety. No resource of 
 syncopation, emphasis, or change is unknown to the Irish 
 dances ; the rhythm gets into the blood with double the 
 seductiveness of sound alone, since every tap on the tym- 
 panum is reinforced by the same metric beating on the 
 vision. Joined to the resulting exhilaration is the pecu- 
 liar excitement always felt in the presence of suspended 
 gravitation ; for no less than suspended gravitation it is 
 when the foot of a man taps the ground like the paw of 
 a kitten, and the body floats in the air like a bird that 
 has paused but will not alight. The good Saint Basil 
 was not only eloquent when he asked what could be more 
 blessed than to imitate on earth the dancing of the 
 angels. His question carries with it the important indi- 
 cation that he had seen an Irish Reel in his day. Be- 
 cause, among all the dances that are stepped on this mor- 
 tal earth, what other is so light that the saint could see 
 in it the pastime of angels? 
 
 For the sake of accuracy, let it not be thought that 
 the steps of the Reel and the Jig, and the Hornpipe as 
 well, were not old while Christianity was new. Mr. 
 Patrick J. Long, himself at once a dancer of pronounced
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 177 
 
 ability and a well-read scholar on Irish history, writes 
 for this chapter: "In the days of Druidism, the Irish 
 nation celebrated an annual feast lasting six days ; three 
 days before the first of November, and three days after. 
 Coming after the season of harvest, it probably was like 
 a Thanksgiving. The celebration was called in Gaelic a 
 Feis (pronounced 'fesh'). Now it was the custom, at 
 the time of the Feis for the nobles of Ireland, and their 
 ladies, and bards and harpists from far and near, to 
 gather at the castle of the king; and there for six days 
 there were competitions in all kinds of music and dan- 
 cing. 
 
 "The dance that was popular with the nobles and their 
 ladies was called the Rinnce Fadha (pronounced 'reenka 
 faudha'). This we know was a dance for several cou- 
 ples. It was a favourite of King Leoghaire (pro- 
 nounced 'Leery'), who ruled Ireland when St. Patrick 
 came to convert the people from paganism. From it was 
 derived in a later century the form of the Sir Roger de 
 Coverley; from the Sir Roger came the Virginia Reel of 
 America. 
 
 "The dances of Ireland are variations on the Reel, Jig 
 and Hornpipe. The Reel is probably the most classic; 
 it is executed in a gliding movement, and is speedy and 
 noiseless. The Jig and the Hornpipe have a good deal 
 in common. Both use clogging and shuffling; that is, 
 taps of heel or sole on the floor, and light scrapes of the 
 sole. Of the two the Hornpipe contains the more clog- 
 ging. But it is richer than the Clog Dance that it re- 
 sembles more or less. It is less mechanical, more varied 
 and has prettier foot-work. 
 
 "The Reel and the Jig are danced as solos by man or 
 woman, by two men, two women, a couple, two men and
 
 178 THE DANCE 
 
 a woman, two, three, four or eight couples. In 'set 
 dances/ as they are called when performed by a 'set' of 
 couples, the steps are simpler than in solo work ; and the 
 time also is simpler in the music of set dances than in the 
 airs used to accompany solos and the work of teams of 
 two. There are Hop Jigs, Slip Jigs, Single and Triple 
 Jigs in 9-8 time. Another peculiarity of Irish dancing, 
 due to the character of the music, is in the irregularities 
 of repetition of the work of one leg with the other leg. 
 The right leg may do the principal work through eight 
 bars ; the same work is naturally to be repeated then with 
 the left leg ; but often the composition of the music gives 
 the left leg only six bars. This is good because un- 
 expected, but it adds a great deal to the difficulty of 
 learning Irish dancing." 
 
 The above-named dances represent the utmost de- 
 velopment of clogging, which is tapping of heels, and 
 shuffling, or scraping of the sole on the floor. Foot- 
 work, especially that of short and rapid steps, is the ele- 
 ment impossible to show in pictorial form. Accompany- 
 ing photographs, therefore, give little idea of the charm 
 of the art of Mr. Hill, Mr. Long, Mr. Walsh, Miss 
 Murray and Miss Reardon, from whom they were 
 taken. 
 
 Thanks to the American branch of the Gaelic League 
 and its activity in the cause of Ireland's arts, Irish 
 dancing is in a flourishing condition in this country. In 
 intelligent public interest, standards of excellence and 
 number of capable performers, America now leads even 
 Ireland. Mr. Hill attributes this to a combination of 
 well-directed enthusiasm, and the practice of holding 
 four important competitions each year. These are di- 
 vided among as many cities. Capable management at-
 
 THE "IRISH JIG" 
 
 Miss Murray, Miss Reardon, Mr. Hill, Mr. Walsh Single figure, 
 Mr. Patrick J. Long
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 179 
 
 tracts competitors of good class and large numbers, and 
 they are classified in such a way that there is hope for all. 
 Liberality in prizes is an added stimulus. All told, Mr. 
 Hill says that one feis of the four annually held in this 
 country accomplishes as much in the interest of dancing 
 as is done in Ireland in a year. 
 
 Dublin and Cork each has its annual feis, with an in- 
 terval of half-a-year between the two. Each has the 
 dancing championship competition among its features; 
 Mr. Hill's title was won in 1909, '10 and 'n at Cork, also 
 in 1911 at Dublin. As the Gaelic League has promi- 
 nent among its purposes the restoration to popular use 
 of the Gaelic language, dancing is only one of several ar- 
 tistic contests. Singing, elocution, and conversation, all 
 in the ancient Irish tongue, have their respective laurel- 
 seeking votaries. Superiority in the playing of violin 
 and flute is rewarded, as in playing the war pipes and 
 union pipes. (War pipes, as may not be universally 
 known, are the Scotch form of bagpipes, played by lung 
 power; the wind for union pipes, in distinction, is sup- 
 plied by bellows held under the arm. ) And until within 
 a couple of years lilting has been competed in the old 
 singing without words, "tra-la-la-dee" sort of thing. 
 The irreverent called it "pussy-singing." Athletic 
 games are included for the sake of variety. Prizes in all 
 events are usually medals. 
 
 The feis in America follows the same model. Dan- 
 cing enjoys a gratifying popularity. Good work always 
 incites the spectators to shout their enthusiasm. With 
 a prevailing eagerness to learn to judge it more exactly, 
 and a highly respectable knowledge of it at the present 
 moment, there exists also that most wholesome adjunct 
 to interest, a division of beliefs as to school. The Cork
 
 i8o THE DANCE 
 
 technique is comparatively short in step, and very pre- 
 cise ; Limerick favours a rather looser type of movement. 
 And there comes in the world-old argument between the 
 Academic and (by whatever name it matters not) the 
 Impressionistic creeds. Each claims to represent the 
 true Hibernianism. 
 
 Sweden, during a period beginning a few years ago, 
 has taken up an enthusiastic revival of the dances of the 
 Scandinavian world. The movement began with the 
 foundation by the late Dr. Hazelius of the Museum of 
 the North, and is carried on by his son. 
 
 The Museum was planned to bring together a repre- 
 sentation of Scandinavia of old, in such a complete way 
 as to show not only products and methods of manufac- 
 ture, but modes of life and social customs. The result 
 is unique among undertakings of the kind. In a park 
 called the Skansen are preserved the Scandinavian flora 
 and fauna, in appropriate surroundings. Farms are 
 cultivated in the manner of the various provinces, and on 
 the farms are their appropriate buildings, characteristic 
 in every detail. To complete the re-creation of antiquity, 
 churches and all the other structures pertinent to com- 
 munity life are included. 
 
 The numerous people required to animate such an es- 
 tablishment, including as it does accommodations for vis- 
 itors, are the expositors of the national dances. Farm- 
 ers, shoemakers, waiters in the cafes, are required to 
 learn and practise them, and present them publicly three 
 times a week. It goes without saying that they dress at 
 all times in the costume of the locality of which they are 
 representatives. 
 
 The influences of the Skansen have been of a sort to 
 gratify its founder. Society now, as a custom, dresses
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 181 
 
 itself for garden parties in the picturesque gaiety and 
 brilliant colour of old Scandinavia, and dances the Skra- 
 Idt and Kadriljs of the peasants. A saying has sprung 
 up that "dancing is a form of patriotism." The senti- 
 ment has impressed itself no less upon the working peo- 
 ple than upon the rich. Children receive dancing in- 
 struction gratis in the Skansen, and knowledge has 
 spread into all parts of Sweden. Now, instead of the 
 Polka, which fifty years ago swept over Scandinavia and 
 fastened itself on the land with a hold that smothered 
 every other dance, are to be seen the merry steps and 
 forms that are distinctively of the Norseland, accom- 
 panied by the old music. A princess of the royal house 
 sanctions the revival of Scandinavianism (if the word 
 be permitted) to the extent of dressing herself and the 
 servants at her summer-place according to the new-old 
 modes. She is popular and the movement is strength- 
 ened accordingly. 
 
 The dances are simple in step, though often compli- 
 cated in figure; lively and gay in manner, and rich in 
 pantomime. Accepted standards of execution require 
 decided grace and a good style. Gustavus III, when he 
 visited France, is said to have been deeply impressed by 
 the exquisite dancing of Marie Antoinette and her court. 
 The element of beauty to be seen in Swedish dancing is 
 supposed to be due in part, at least, to that royal visit. 
 
 One of the most pleasing dance-arrangements is in- 
 spired by the work of the weaver, with the happy changes 
 of eifect constantly wrought by the action of the loom. 
 The Vafva Vadna this dance is called. It is highly com- 
 plicated, the stretched threads are simulated in the lines 
 of performers, through whom flashes back and forth the 
 girl who represents the movements of the shuttle. Rich
 
 182 THE DANCE 
 
 variety is gained by involved intercrossings of the lines 
 of boys and girls. 
 
 The taming of womankind is the motive of the panto- 
 mimic Daldans. Over the head of the meekly kneeling 
 woman the man swings his foot, as a symbol ; in another 
 figure the woman's coquetry reduces the man to helpless- 
 ness. The Vingakersdans pantomimes the competition 
 of two women for the same man. The favoured one 
 seats herself a moment on the man's knee, and finishes 
 the number by waltzing with him; while the defeated 
 charmer bites her nails with vexation. 
 
 These are characteristic specimens of a very numer- 
 ous group. Their revival seems to progress more rap- 
 idly in the villages than in the big cities interesting 
 as a case of the country leading the cities in a movement 
 of modernism. Many of the pantomimes are based on 
 work from which the rural population is less remote than 
 are those who dwell in cities. The movements of mak- 
 ing a shoe are known to every villager ; he has watched 
 the cobbler many a time, and known him usually as the 
 local philosopher. Upon the village, therefore, no touch 
 of character in the Cobblers' Dance would be lost. The 
 humours of harvesting might in like manner fail to reach 
 a city audience without the aid of spoken word ; harvest, 
 with other elemental work, provides many of the Scan- 
 dinavian dance motives. 
 
 Holland and Belgium are alike unproductive of dan- 
 cing of much choreographic value. The strength of the 
 people is not accompanied by either the lightness or 
 agility found in dancing nations. As a coincidence, it 
 is notable that dancing does not flourish in regions of 
 wooden shoes. The Dutch have a species of sailors' 
 dance called the Matelot, performed by groups of men
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 183 
 
 and women ; but it is a romp and little or nothing more. 
 This is characteristic of the dances of the Netherlands, 
 as is confirmed by genre pictures from the time of 
 Teniers down to the present. 
 
 The Waltz, it should be said at this point, is universal. 
 If ever it is asserted that the people of a locality do not 
 dance, an exception may be made to cover the Waltz, so 
 long as the locality referred to is in the Occident. The 
 seeming caution with which peasants perform their 
 Waltzes practically removes them from the category of 
 dancing, though not from that of humour. 
 
 France, the Eden of the Grand Ballet, the home of a 
 race of lovers of beauty, might be expected to abound in 
 rich character dances; but the exact reverse is true. 
 The people of the country are, first of all, workers; the 
 dances that enliven their fetes are the careless celebra- 
 tion of children released from confining tasks. The 
 principal cities have their opera ballets ; through them is 
 supplied the national demand for choreographic beauty. 
 
 The old name of la Bourree survives in Auvergne. 
 In its present form it bears no resemblance to the old 
 Bourree of eighteenth-century courts, but is one of those 
 informal frolics of an indefinite number of couples, hand- 
 clapping, finger-snapping, and energetic bounding, min- 
 gled with shouts of joy. 
 
 The Farandole is popular in the South of France. 
 Under its name a chain of boys and girls, united by hand- 
 kerchiefs that they hold, "serpentines" and zigzags in 
 directions dictated by the caprice of their leader, perhaps 
 traversing the length of the streets of a village. From 
 time to time the leading couple will halt and form their 
 arms into an arch for those following to pass under ; or 
 again stop the procession in such a way as to wind up
 
 184 THE DANCE 
 
 the line into a compact mass. Again the game partakes 
 of the nature of "follow the leader," the whole party 
 imitating the leader in any antic he may perform. 
 
 The ancient Contredanses which word England 
 changed to Country Dances, of frequent mention in story 
 were the roots of modern Quadrilles. These, how- 
 ever, are polished out of any semblance to character 
 dances; they are of the ballroom and infinitely removed 
 from the soil. 
 
 Germany, with its fondness for legend and care in its 
 preservation, would be a fertile field for search on the 
 part of a compiler of ancient observances more or less 
 allied to dancing. A specimen of the latter is the Perch- 
 tent am of Salzburg. Perchta is another name for 
 Freya, Woden's consort and the mother of the North- 
 men's gods. She is powerful even in these modern 
 times, and malicious unless propitiated by proper for- 
 mulae of actions and words. Placing a spoonful of food 
 from each dish of the Christmas dinner for her on the 
 fence outside the house is one of the tributes. She has 
 spirit-followers: some kindly, called "schon Perchten," 
 others wild and fierce, known as "schiachen Perchten." 
 The latter alight on houses and scream mischievously, 
 lure men into danger and punish undiscovered crimes. 
 
 At irregular intervals is performed the Perchtentanz; 
 not apparently as an act of propitiation, but presumably 
 having that motive as its origin. Good and evil Perch- 
 ten both are represented. On an accompanying page of 
 European miscellany is a drawing of one of the "beauti- 
 ful." The huge plaques are covered with sparkling 
 trinkets and adorned with braid, ribbon and embroidery. 
 StufTed birds are also popular for their decorations; a 
 dozen of them may be affixed to the lower plaque, a
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 185 
 
 FROM VARIOUS FOLK-DANCES. 
 Scandinavian. Russian. 
 
 Hungarian. Scandinavian. 
 
 From the Perchtentans of Salzburg. Bavarian. 
 Russian Court (Princess Chirinski-Chichmatoff.)
 
 186 THE DANCE 
 
 smaller number to the upper ; an ambitious crown to the 
 whole is sometimes seen in the form of a peacock with 
 spread wings. The structure is supported by a rod run- 
 ning down the bearer's back, and fastened to him by 
 belts. Its weight prohibits any movement to which the 
 word "dancing" applies except as a convenience; but a 
 series of slow and necessarily careful evolutions per- 
 formed by the wearers of these displays is called a 
 dance, nevertheless. Meantime the "fierce Perchten," 
 made up with masks as demoniac as possible, run about 
 among the legs of the crowd and do their best to startle 
 people. The spirit accompanying the celebration is 
 levity, modified only by the sincere admiration consid- 
 ered due the serious decorations. They represent a 
 great deal of work and considerable money. 
 
 In various parts of Savoy is performed on St. Roch's 
 Day what is called the Bacchu-ber. On a platform 
 erected in front of a church, and decorated with gar- 
 lands and fir-trees, a group of men dance with short 
 swords ; passing under bridges of swords, forming chains 
 by grasping one another's weapons, and so on. That 
 its origin is pre-Christian seems a reasonable conjecture; 
 but nothing specific is known about it. 
 
 Munich celebrates with dancing an episode connected 
 with an epidemic of cholera: the guild of coopers de- 
 cided that the care the people were taking against ex- 
 posure was defeating its purpose, since it was keeping 
 them indoors to the detriment of health. They there- 
 fore went out and enjoyed themselves as usual, for the 
 sake of example. Others did the same, and the plague 
 ceased. Periodically the brave coopers are honoured, 
 therefore, by dances of large companies of people, who 
 carry garlanded arches and execute triumphal figures.
 
 THE "SCHUHPLATTELTANZ" 
 
 Herr and Frau Nagel 
 
 A swing 
 
 A turn
 
 THE "SCHUHPLATTELTANZ" OF BAVARIA 
 
 Preparing a turn (i) A lift (2) Starting woman's series of turns (3) Start 
 of woman's turns (4) Man fans her along with hands (5) Finish of dance (6) 
 
 To face page 187
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 187 
 
 The foregoing instances are no more than a specimen 
 of the varieties of tradition that dancing may commem- 
 orate. Europe collectively doubtless will produce thou- 
 sands of such dances, when the task of collecting them is 
 entered upon with the necessary combination of leisure 
 and zeal. 
 
 Bavaria's Schuhplatteltanz is altogether delightful in 
 itself, without aid from history or tradition to supple- 
 ment its interest. It is full of a quaint Tyrolean grace 
 mingled with happy and delicate grotesquery. Women 
 it causes to spin as though they were some quaint species 
 of combination doll and top; the atmosphere that sur- 
 rounds a marvellous and pretty mechanical toy is pre- 
 served in a delicate unreality in the pantomime and in 
 the treatment throughout. 
 
 It is accompanied by zithers, instruments which them- 
 selves sing of a world suspended somewhere in the air. 
 In silvery, floating tones they play less a waltz than the 
 dream of a waltz, in sounds as unmaterial as the illu- 
 sive voice of an yEolian harp. 
 
 A little opening promenade ; a few bars of the couple's 
 waltzing together in steps infinitesimal, prim with 
 conscious propriety. The man raises the girl's hand 
 and starts her spinning. She neither retards nor helps, 
 being a little figure of no weight, moved solely by power 
 from without itself. Her skirt stands out as straight 
 and steady as though it were cardboard; her partner 
 must lean far over now, not to touch it and spoil the 
 spin. Now she is whirling perfectly; with a parting 
 impulse to her arm, he releases her. On she turns, at 
 a speed steady as clockwork, revolving, as a top will, 
 slowly around a large circle. 
 
 Her partner follows, beating time in a way that be-
 
 188 THE DANCE 
 
 wilders eye and ear alike; for his hands pat shoes and 
 leather breeches with a swiftness incredible and ecstatic. 
 Of this perhaps sixteen bars when, as though his part- 
 ner were beginning to "run down," he starts blow- 
 ing her along with vigorous puffs. Nevertheless, she 
 is slowing down ; the skirt is settling. He reaches over 
 it, gets his hands on her waist. To the last the spin- 
 ning illusion is preserved by an appearance of her ro- 
 tary motion being stopped only by the pressure of the 
 man's hand as a brake. 
 
 The foregoing interpretation is suggested by the deli- 
 cate work of Herr and Frau Nagel, and the company 
 with which they are associated. It is a dance whose 
 fancy easily could disappear under its mechanics, if 
 performed without imagination. 
 
 Having caught his partner after her spin, waltzed 
 again with her for a few bars, and lifted her up at 
 arm's length in sheer playfulness, the man joins arms 
 with her in such fashion as to form almost a duplicate 
 of the "mirror" figure of the Minuet. The courtliness 
 of the cavalier in the Minuet is matched by adroitness 
 on the part of the schuhplatteltanzer ; he contrives to 
 draw his partner's head nearer and nearer to his, as 
 they walk around in a lessening circle. Finally, when 
 the circle of the promenade can become no smaller, and 
 the faces have come close to the imaginary mirror 
 framed by the arms, he suddenly but daintily kisses her 
 lips. 
 
 Germany is the home of the Waltz, of which it has 
 evolved several varieties. The Rheinlander Waltz is 
 perhaps the most popular. In one form or another it 
 has spread through the Balkan countries; not, how- 
 ever, with any apparent detriment to the native dances,
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 189 
 
 because of these dances' natural crudeness. Servia, 
 Montenegro and the neighbouring monarchies celebrate 
 weddings and christenings and enliven picnics with a 
 "round" called in Servian language the Kolo, that em- 
 ploys the simple old figures of the bridge of arms and 
 the like, but which, as to step, is quite formless. Col- 
 our in the costumes goes far to provide spectacular in- 
 terest to these exuberant frolics. The linen gowns of 
 the women are embroidered in big and good designs 
 of two distinct reds, scarlet and rose ; emerald-green and 
 a warm yellow-green ; the most brilliant of yellows ; wine- 
 colour and blue. As is frequently found in a region 
 that has kept a scheme of design through a sufficient 
 number of generations to allow the formation of tradi- 
 tions based on long experiment, the seemingly impossi- 
 ble is accomplished by the peasant women of the Bal- 
 kans: the colours whose enumeration on the same page 
 would seem outrageous are, in practical application, 
 brought into harmony. It is a question of proportionate 
 size of spots of colour, and their juxtaposition. The 
 results of using the same colours in new designs is to 
 be seen in the expressions of sundry new schools of 
 painting that refuse to acknowledge limitations. 
 
 Men's sleeves and waistcoats are frequently embroid- 
 ered in the same way as the jacket and sleeves of the 
 women, as exemplified in the accompanying photographs 
 of Madame Koriti<;. Loose linen trousers, which are 
 sometimes worn, may be likewise decorated. In the 
 sunlight and in appropriate surroundings, a perform- 
 ance of the Kolo should be a sight to dispel trouble, 
 whatever its deficiencies from the point of view of dan- 
 cing. 
 
 Greece, too, diverts itself with rustic rounds, as form-
 
 190 THE DANCE 
 
 less as in other lands. Of the Hellas that gave the 
 Occident its civilisation there remain some architectural 
 ruins, to which latter-day inhabitants of the land may 
 have given some care; and certain statues, preserved 
 in the museums of other lands. For Hellenic ideals and 
 Attic salt, search the hat-boy at the entrance to the res- 
 taurant. The Greek of to-day is a composite of Turk 
 and Slav; his dances have neither the grace of the one 
 nor the fire of the other. The discovery in Greece of 
 survivors of ancient dances which discovery is occa- 
 sionally asserted may have a basis in fact; but more 
 likely its foundation is in a similarity between an an- 
 cient and a modern word. But enough of disappoint- 
 ments and of great things lost. 
 
 Hungary, Russia and Poland have a family of strictly 
 national dances that not only take a position among 
 the world's best character dances; without departing 
 from their true premise as expressions of racial tem- 
 perament, some of them attain to the dignity of great 
 romantic art, combined with optical beauty of the high- 
 est order, A Czardas in one of the Pavlowa pro- 
 grammes (season 1913-14) showed qualities of choreo- 
 graphic composition that were equalled, in that enter- 
 tainment, only by the ballet arrangements of the most 
 capable composers whose works were represented. The 
 juxtaposition of ballet and character numbers, per- 
 formed with the same skill and accompanied by the same 
 orchestra, furnished an uncommonly good measure of 
 the folk-dances' actual merit. 
 
 The Czardas, the Mazurka and the Cossack Dance 
 of Russia and the Obertass of Poland form a group that 
 occupy in the dance the place that Liszt's "Hungarian 
 Rhapsody" fills in music: they are the candid revela-
 
 Start of a turn 
 An emphasis 
 
 THE "KoLo" OF SERVIA 
 Madame Koritic 
 
 A bridge of arms 
 
 Progress of a turn 
 
 A lift
 
 POSES FROM SLAVONIC DANCFS 
 Miss Lyclia Lopoukowa 
 
 Coquetry 
 
 Petulance 
 
 Indifference
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 191 
 
 tion of the heart of a people simple, sympathetic, un- 
 restrainedly romantic, violently impulsive. Each rep- 
 resents an exciting diversity of ammunition, fired in 
 one rousing volley; an expression to which one may 
 become accustomed, but which always remains unfa- 
 miliar, and which always produces an intoxicating 
 shock. The abrupt changes of movement from slow 
 to fast, from furious speed to a dead standstill; the re- 
 current crescendo from short, close movement to broad 
 sweeps, open jete turns, and the lowest of "dips"; the 
 diverse effects gained by play of rhythm such effects 
 are indescribable in word or picture. Fortunately, 
 however, characteristic poses are within the range of 
 the snapshot; so also, to an extent, is the expression 
 of human moods if portrayed by rare pantomimic abil- 
 ity. 
 
 Possession of such ability, backed by the unfettered 
 imagination of the Tartar and accompanied by superla- 
 tive artistry, describes Miss Lydia Lopoukowa. To 
 her great kindness this book is indebted for the accom- 
 panying photographs representing characteristic poses 
 and moods of northern Slavonic dancing. Taken from 
 the work of such an artist, the pictures represent an 
 idealisation, or perfection, of their subjects. They 
 show movements of the dances themselves, in their spirit, 
 without the usual limitations imposed by physique. The 
 clean-cut definition of pose; the co-ordination of pose 
 and features in all the expressions of allurement, appeal, 
 petulance, esctasy these represent a standard at which 
 the merely mortal dancer aims, but a conjunction of 
 conditions that one may hope to see accomplished few 
 times in the course of one life. 
 
 Yet, as noted before, the dances are so composed that,
 
 192 THE DANCE 
 
 performed with a degree of skill not uncommon in their 
 native land, they are rich and surprising. In steps, the 
 Russian, Austrian and Polish group have most of their 
 material in common : naturally, since they are united by 
 ties of race. The salient point by which each dance is 
 distinguished, in the eye of the spectator, is one big 
 step. 
 
 The Czardas employs a long glided step that is all its 
 own. The active foot is started well to the rear, and 
 glided forward; the glide is accompanied by a very low 
 plie of the supporting knee ; as the active foot comes into 
 advanced position, the dancer sharply straightens up, 
 rises to the ball of the supporting foot, and continues 
 the advancing foot forward and upward in a rapid 
 kick. The masculine version drops the body lower, and 
 kicks higher, than the feminine; but even the latter's 
 change of elevation remains fixed in the memory. 
 
 In the Obertass, the man goes into the low stooping 
 position, in connection with executing a very individual 
 rond de jambe. At the moment, he is face to face with 
 his partner, his hands on the sides of her waist, her 
 hands on his shoulders; after a swift step-turn in the 
 usual direction, he takes a long step backward (she 
 forward), and, keeping his right leg extended before 
 him, stoops until he is squatting on his left heel; the 
 right leg, held straight, is swept rapidly around to the 
 rear; meanwhile the couple continues to turn. The 
 man's momentum turns him until he faces in the same 
 direction with his partner. He springs up on her right 
 side, and goes with her into a short, fast polka-step. 
 During the turn, the woman keeps hold of the man to 
 prevent centrifugal force from flinging him into space. 
 
 In the Mazurka (not the ballroom version) the same
 
 POSES FROM SLAVONIC DANCES 
 Miss Lydia Lopoukowa 
 
 Negation (i) Fear (2) Supplication (3) An emphasis (4)
 
 POSES FROM SLAVONIC DANCES 
 Miss Lydia Lopoukowa 
 
 Characteristic gesture (i) Characteristic step (2) Characteristic gesture (3) 
 Characteristic step (4) Same, another view (5) Ecstasy (6) 
 The claim of beauty (7)
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 193 
 
 step, modified as to elevation, is performed by both man 
 and woman, alternately, during certain passages. 
 
 The Szolo, a Hungarian dance introduced into Amer- 
 ica by Mr. and Mrs. Hartmann, gives the woman a 
 unique turn in the air. The woman standing at her 
 partner's right, the two join their crossed hands above 
 her head, she reaching up, he downward. She is turned 
 by being swung through the air in a horizontal posi- 
 tion finishing on her partner's left side. The arms, of 
 course, have "unwound" from their first position, and 
 re-crossed in its converse position. This movement, 
 masterfully executed, is one of the devices by which the 
 dance contradicts gravity. Ill done, of course, it would 
 be as painful for spectator as performer. 
 
 But these dances are not often ill done at least by 
 the people to whom they belong. We are credibly in- 
 formed that the problems of involved steps and tricky 
 tempo, exacting requirements of agility and expression, 
 are met with a laugh; that, while great virtuosity is 
 naturally rare, real elegance of execution is the rule. 
 Which leads back, of course, to national choreographic 
 traditions and ideals. The artistic level they occupy in 
 Russia (and presumably Hungary and Poland) is indi- 
 cated in a few lines of a letter to the authors from Prin- 
 cess Chirinski-Chichmatoff, of Moscow. Apart from 
 its value as quite the finest statement of the meaning of 
 character dancing that is to be found in the literature 
 of choreography, the paragraph has the interest of 
 showing one of the reasons why the folk-dancing of 
 northeastern Europe is good: 
 
 In every dance the principal things are the harmony 
 (i) of movements with the rhythm of the music, (2) of 
 movements with the subject that the music represents,
 
 194 THE DANCE 
 
 and (3) of the sentiments with the pantomime, to give 
 a certain impression; and finally this, that it should be 
 a dance which has exclusively the national character, 
 with the movements natural [familiers] to a certain 
 people and to a certain epoch. In the dance the artist 
 ought to show all the richness of his soul; ought to 
 instil into his movements all of that which the sculptor 
 puts into his marble; while above the idea and the mood 
 ought to be felt the beauty and freedom of movements 
 and lines. 
 
 Quite a difference between that and some other na- 
 tional ideas of character dancing! 
 
 Describing her national dance (i. e., the Cossack 
 Dance and its derivatives) she writes: 
 
 "The Russian dance is composed in two parts, Adagio 
 and Allegro. In each part we see the traits most nat- 
 ural to the people, and which were formed in historic 
 times, under other conditions. 
 
 "i. Adagio: length, freedom, tranquillity of move- 
 ment with much dignity and grace, and with a little 
 softness and simplicity; all relating to the traits that 
 were formed during the period when all Russian women 
 passed the whole time in their teremas (house of Rus- 
 sian style), retired from the world, working and sing- 
 ing, thinking melancholy thoughts about life but never 
 seeing it in reality, never leaving the house nor being 
 seen except on the rare occasion of visits. 
 
 "2. Allegro: expresses, with the gay and popular 
 songs, the vivacity, the carelessness, the humour and the 
 pleasantry that were born in a people still a little bar- 
 barous and simple, whose sadness and gaiety were 
 somewhat naive. All the traits natural to the Rus- 
 sian people are portrayed in their national dance and
 
 EUROPEAN FOLK-DANCING 195 
 
 in the simple music created from the most popular and 
 beloved songs." 
 
 Within the form so sketched there is room for a wide 
 variety of interpretation. The peasant expresses the 
 motives of happiness and vivacity in movements that 
 translate the joy of an almost wild man. An advance 
 while maintaining a low squatting position, the spring 
 for each step coming from a leg bent double, is a gro- 
 tesquery trying to the strength of the toughest thighs. 
 Still more difficult and as grotesque is a movement of 
 squatting on one heel, and rapidly tracing circles with 
 the extended leg held straight, as though it were the 
 arm of a compass. The feminine version of the move- 
 ments is less violent; but the Allegro portion of the 
 woman's work is nevertheless tremendously animated 
 in the rustic version of this dance. 
 
 As the court of seventeenth-century France took the 
 dances of the peasant and modified them into adorn- 
 ments of ceremonious occasions, so polite society has 
 done in Russia. The Court Dance is the result. Re- 
 finement has not robbed it of the national qualities de- 
 scribed by Princess Chirinski; her own performance of 
 it demonstrates, in almost spiritual terms, the "dignity 
 and grace," the "little softness and simplicity," the 
 "sadness and gaiety" that she puts into words. 
 Through her performance, too, runs an undercurrent of 
 the indefinable a hint of latent mystery that is not 
 European. It is a quality not infrequently sensed in the 
 work of artists of Tartar blood; it is a trace of the Ori- 
 ent.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 
 
 FROM a race of artists Mohammed took away the 
 freedom to paint or model representations of liv- 
 ing things. Yet the prohibition was a seed from 
 which sprang a garden of expression more graphic than 
 paint, a school of symbolism perhaps the most highly 
 wrought the world has seen. 
 
 Artist the Arab is, whether measured by tests of his 
 command over abstract symbol or in such media as his 
 religion permits vivid portrayal of nature. Of con- 
 crete things and occurrences he has the alert observa- 
 tion of a reporter. Upon what he sees he ponders; in- 
 tensely religious, he sees the hand of Allah in many 
 things, draws morals, and seeks meanings. 
 
 His nomad forefathers mastered the geography of 
 the stars, in search of a celestial message. Though the 
 message be still unread, mathematical problems that vex 
 the learned in academies amused the Arab when the 
 race was young. Written numerals he invented, occult 
 relations he sees in their functions. And, underlying 
 all,, he has a passion for intellectual order. 
 
 Geometry is the educated Arab's plaything ; from long 
 practice he can project its figures upon the wall of imag- 
 ination, free of the need of pencil. Owing to this prac- 
 tice, perhaps, his thoughts express themselves in the 
 form of images. His literature is crowded with them, 
 
 vivid sketches thrown before the mind's eye; each a 
 
 196
 
 lU O 
 
 S3 C 1 
 
 03
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF GREETING" (Continued) 
 
 'For you I will dance" (4) "From here you will put away care" (5, 8) 
 "Here you may sleep" (6) "Here am I" (7) 
 
 To face page 197
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 197 
 
 symbol more eloquent than description, a metaphor more 
 compelling than logic. 
 
 As astronomy was born of the search for meanings 
 in the stars, so the search for mystic functions among 
 the figures of geometry evolved a school of decoration 
 that drowns the eye in pleasure, baffles the mind to ex- 
 plain. From square and compass spring the best of the 
 interlaced ornament of the palace of Alhambra the 
 ornament that raises material things to a plane almost 
 exempt from material limitations. And not the de- 
 signer alone gleaned from the geomancer's play with 
 line. Experiments profitless to the magician yielded of 
 their magic to the architect, to the end that he was able 
 to make of a gateway a song of thanksgiving, of a square 
 tower a hymn of aspiration and these, if it suited him, 
 by the magic of proportion alone, without the aid of any 
 adornment whatever. 
 
 Such a race, if it could have painted and drawn, would 
 have produced artists superlative in more than one di- 
 rection. Clear observation and the wit to discern sig- 
 nificances would have made satirists and commentators 
 of the most subtle kind. In picture, the Arab metaphor 
 would have been better expressed, even, than in words, 
 which often seem a weak translation of a graphic sym- 
 bol in the Arab story-teller's mind. As to decoration, 
 it seems inevitable that with knowledge of the figure 
 and freedom to use it, the Moors that adorned Alham- 
 bra's inner walls could have painted such designs as are 
 not even dreamed of; for their designing so far as 
 its field extended was to Occidental designing in gen- 
 eral as evolved musical composition is to arrangement 
 by guess-work. 
 
 All these things the Arab must have done as a painter.
 
 198 THE DANCE 
 
 Yet despite the injunction depriving him of life as ma- 
 terial for picture and sculpture, and indeed because of 
 it, he has evolved an art in which painting and sculp- 
 ture unite to express the human emotions through the 
 medium of the human form. That art, of course, is 
 dancing. He has dignified it with his accumulated 
 knowledge of decoration, imbued it with the mystic 
 symbolism of his speculative mind. In light mood it 
 narrates the passing occurrence or the amusing anec- 
 dote. And not the least of the wonders of the Arab 
 dancing is the emphasis it places upon the beauty of 
 womankind. Instead of movement, as in most Euro- 
 pean dancing, its essential interest is in a series of pic- 
 tures, charged with significance and rich in harmony 
 of line. The eye has time to dwell upon a posture, to 
 revel in the sensuous grace into which it casts body and 
 limb. To complete the task of sculptural composition, 
 the Arabic dancer studies to a rare completeness the art 
 of eliminating the many natural crudities of position that 
 prevent arms, legs and body from showing to the ut- 
 most advantage their physical perfection. Though the 
 material body does not in the work of a genuine artist 
 distract attention from sculptural nobility of pose, 
 neither is physical attractiveness lost sight of in the 
 beauties of the abstract. \ 
 
 That the treasure-house of Arabian choreography 
 never has been really opened to Occidental eyes is prob- 
 ably due, as much as to anything else, to the Arab's 
 inability to contribute any explanation to a thing which, 
 by his way of thinking, explains itself. He has seen 
 no dancing except that of his own race. To him Ara- 
 bian dancing is not Arabian ; it is just dancing. In his 
 eyes the mimetic symbols are as descriptive as spoken
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF GREETING" (Continued) 
 "May winds refresh you" (12) "Wherever you go" (13) 
 
 "And your slave" (16) 
 "Here is your house" (14) "Here is peace" (15)
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 199 
 
 words. Except he could see them with Occidental eyes, 
 he would see nothing about them to explain. 
 
 Europe has seen the Arabic work, and enjoyed it 
 for its ocular beauty. Gerome, Constant, Bargue and 
 others have painted its sinuous elegance with admirable 
 results. But no insight into its motives has become 
 general, nor has any key to its meaning heretofore been 
 printed, so far as can be ascertained, in any European 
 language. 
 
 America still further than Europe has been excluded 
 from satisfactory acquaintance with the Oriental, be- 
 cause it has been so rarely presented here except in a 
 manner to defame it. At the World's Fair in Chicago, 
 where we saw it first, its sinuous body-movement caused 
 a shock. Along that line opportunist managers saw 
 profit. Sex an institution whose existence is frankly 
 admitted by every civilisation except our own was, 
 under managerial inspiration, insisted upon to the ex- 
 clusion of every other motive of the dance ; and insisted 
 upon in such a manner as to make it repulsive. Ruth 
 St. Denis has gone far in removing the resulting stigma 
 from the art of India and Egypt. That the prejudice 
 is not going to persist in the face of a national common- 
 sense and love of beauty is further indicated in the re- 
 ception met by the work of Fatma a couple of seasons 
 ago in The Garden of Allah; a Moroccan woman, doing 
 work unreservedly typical of her country, always re- 
 ceived with delight by the audience, and never regarded 
 from the wrong point of view. 
 
 The mission of calling Western attention to that 
 which lies below the surface of Arabic dancing, how- 
 ever, appears to have remained for Zourna, the Tu- 
 nisian. To her it is possible, by virtue of a point of
 
 200 THE DANCE 
 
 view resulting from a dual education, Mohammedan 
 and European. 
 
 Zourna is the daughter of an Arab father and a 
 French mother, who lived in Tunis. In childhood she 
 was taught the Arab girl's accomplishments, dancing 
 included; but an occasional visit to France enabled her 
 at all times to see her African way of living somewhat 
 as it would appear to the European. In the natural 
 course of events she married; destined, however, to a 
 short time of enjoyment of the dreamy dancing of the 
 sheltered harem. The death of her husband and loss 
 of fortune drove her to dance in cafes. That genus 
 of work she had time to learn well before Fate again 
 intervened. A chain of circumstances brought her an 
 opportunity to study ballet in the French Academy. It 
 was not her medium of. expression, but it gave her a 
 clear measure of the difference between the Oriental and 
 Occidental philosophies of the dance. 
 
 Of formulated dances the Arab has few, and those 
 no more set than are the words of our stories : the point 
 must not be missed, but we may choose our own vocab- 
 ulary. In terms of the dance, the Arab entertainer tells 
 stories; in the case of known and popular stories she 
 follows the accepted narrative, but improvises the move- 
 ments and poses that express it, exactly as though they 
 were spoken words instead of pantomime. Somewhat 
 less freedom necessarily obtains in the narration of 
 dance-poems than in the recital of trifling incident; but 
 within the necessary limits, originality is prized. In 
 the mimetic vocabulary are certain phrases that are de- 
 pended upon to convey their definite meanings. New 
 word-equivalents, however, are always in order, if they
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF MOURNING" 
 By Zourna 
 
 The body approaches (i) The body passes (2) "I hold my sorrow to 
 
 myself" (3) 
 
 To face page zoo
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF MOURNING" (Continued) 
 "He has gone out of the house and up to Heaven" (4) "Farewell" (5) 
 
 To face page lor
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 201 
 
 can stand the searching test of eyes educated in beauty 
 and minds trained to exact thinking. 
 
 Nearly unlimited as it is in scope, delightful as it un- 
 failingly is to those who know it, Arabic dancing suits 
 occasions of a variety of which the dances of Europe 
 never dreamed. In the cafe it diverts and sometimes 
 demoralises. In his house the master watches the dan- 
 cing of his slaves, dreaming under the narcotic spell of 
 rhythm. On those rare occasions when the demands 
 of diplomacy or business compel him to bring a guest 
 into his house, the dancing of slaves is depended upon to 
 entertain. His wives dance before him to please his 
 eye, and to cajole him into conformity with their desires. 
 
 Even the news of the day is danced, since the doc- 
 trines of Mohammed depress the printing of almost 
 everything except the Koran. Reports of current 
 events reach the male population in the market and the 
 cafe. At home men talk little of outside affairs, and 
 women do not get out except to visit others of their kind, 
 as isolated from the world as themselves. But they get 
 all the news that is likely to interest them, none the less ; 
 at least the happenings in the world of Mohammedan- 
 ism. 
 
 As venders of information of passing events, there 
 are women that wander in pairs from city to city, from 
 harem to harem, like bards of the early North. As 
 women they are admitted to women's apartments. 
 There, while one rhythmically pantomimes deeds of war 
 to the cloistered ones that never saw a soldier, or graph- 
 ically imitates the punishment of a malefactor in the 
 market-place, her companion chants, with falsetto 
 whines, a descriptive and rhythmic accompaniment.
 
 202 THE DANCE 
 
 Thus is the harem protected against the risk of nar- 
 rowness. 
 
 In the daily life of the harem, dancing is one of the 
 favoured pastimes. Women dance to amuse themselves 
 and to entertain one another. In the dance, as in 
 music and embroidery, there is endless interest, and a 
 spirit of emulation usually friendly. 
 
 One of the comparatively formalised mimetic expres- 
 sions is the Dance of Greeting, the function of which is 
 to honour a guest when occasion brings him into the 
 house. Let it be imagined that coffee and cigarettes 
 have been served to two grave gentlemen; that one has 
 expressed bewilderment at the magnificence of the es- 
 tablishment, and his opinion that too great honour has 
 been done him in permitting him to enter it; that the 
 host has duly made reply that his grandchildren will 
 tell with pride of the day when this poor house was so 
 far honoured that such a one set his foot within it. 
 After which a sherbet, more coffee and cigarettes. 
 When the time seems propitious, the host suggests to 
 the guest that if in his great kindness he will look at her, 
 he the host would like permission to order a slave to 
 try to entertain with a dance. 
 
 The musicians, squatting against the wall, begin the 
 wailing of the flute, the hypnotic throb of "darabukkeh." 
 She who is designated to dance the Greeting enters hold- 
 ing before her a long scarf that half conceals her; the 
 expression on her face is surprise, as though honour 
 had fallen to her beyond her merits or expectation. 
 Upon reaching her place she extends her arms forward, 
 then slowly moves them, and with them the scarf, to 
 one side, until she is revealed. When a nod confirms 
 the command to dance, she quickly drops the scarf to the
 
 ARABIAN "DANCE OF MOURNING" (Continued) 
 
 "He slept in my arms" (6) "The house is empty" (7) "Woe is in my 
 
 heart" (8) 
 
 To face page 202
 
 c 
 _o 
 
 IS 
 
 IS 
 
 o 
 
 c 
 
 rt 
 T3
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 203 
 
 floor, advances to a place before the guest and near him, 
 and honours him with a slave's salutation. Then aris- 
 ing she proceeds to her silent greeting. 
 
 "You are implanted in your house," says a move- 
 ment [see photographs]. "Here is food, here may you 
 sleep well. When you go forth, go you East, West, 
 North, South [indicating quarter-circles by pointing the 
 toe], yet you are here. May Allah's blessings descend 
 upon you. May the breezes blow upon you, may the 
 rain refresh you, may abundance be showered upon 
 you; yet may you remember that here you are in your 
 house, and that here is your slave." 
 
 That is the lifeless skeleton of the story, without 
 grace, or the animation of movement, or the embellish- 
 ment of expression. To try to force words into an 
 equivalent of the semi-ritualistic splendour of the dance 
 would be attempting to build a Moorish palace of dry 
 grains of sand. 
 
 In Occidental entertainment, when a performer has 
 gained the sanctuary of the platform, he is practically 
 immune from interruption until his "number" is fin- 
 ished unless exception be made of "amateur night" in 
 vaudeville houses, where offenders are forcibly removed 
 with a hook, or suddenly enveloped in darkness. With 
 that probably unique exception, however, the audience 
 confronted by an indifferent performer can only sum- 
 mon patience. The Orient offers no such security, to 
 the dancer at least. At the first sign of failure to in- 
 terest, a signal, perhaps no more noticeable than the raise 
 of an eyelid, commands the dancer to cease. Not later, 
 but instantly. 
 
 To interrupt a dance of movement without regard to 
 its argument would be worse than interrupting a story.
 
 204 THE DANCE 
 
 It would not only undo the preceding work; it would 
 be very likely to arrest the artist in a transitional posi- 
 tion, in itself weak. At all events, such an interruption 
 would painfully mar an entertainment programme. But 
 the Arabian dance is not a dance of movement; it is 
 a dance of pictures, to which movement is wholly sub- 
 ordinate. Each bar of the music accompanies a pic- 
 ture complete in itself. Within the measure of each 
 bar the dancer has time for the movements leading from 
 one picture to the next, and to hold the picture for the 
 instant necessary to give emphasis. At whatever mo- 
 ment she may be stopped, therefore, she is within less 
 than a second of a pose so balanced and sculptural that 
 it appears as a natural termination of the dance. The 
 Oriental's general indifference to the forces of accumu- 
 lation and climax are consistent with such a capricious 
 ending. In his dance, each phrase is complete in itself ; 
 it may be likened to one of those serial stories in our 
 magazines, in which each instalment of the story is self- 
 sufficient. 
 
 To the Occidental unused to Oriental art, the absence 
 of crescendo and climax, and the substituted iteration 
 carried on endlessly, is uninteresting. Nevertheless, a 
 few days of life among Oriental conditions suffice to 
 throw many a scoffer into attunement with the Oriental 
 art idea. Which is to soothe, not to stimulate. Moor- 
 ish ornament is an indefinitely repeated series of mar- 
 vellously designed units, each complete in itself, yet in- 
 extricably interwoven with its neighbours. In music 
 the beats continue unchanging through bar after bar, 
 phrase after phrase. The rhythmic repetition of the 
 tile-designs on the wall, the decorative repetition of the 
 beats of music, produce a spell of dreamy visioning com-
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 205 
 
 parable only to the effect of some potent but harmless 
 narcotic. 
 
 To the foregoing" generality exception must again 
 be made of the dancing in cafes. While it conforms to 
 the structure of a picture-complete-in-each-bar, its treat- 
 ment is more or less at variance with the idea of sooth- 
 ing. But the symbolism is likely to lack nothing of 
 picturesqueness. The Handkerchief Dance is charac- 
 teristic of the type. 
 
 Of the two handkerchiefs used in this dance one rep- 
 resents the girl herself, the other her soon-to-be-selected 
 lover. She first takes a corner of each handkerchief 
 into her teeth, warming them into life. She lays them 
 parallel on the floor and indifferently dances around 
 and between them, to state her power to cross the line 
 and return free from entanglements of lover's claims. 
 Into the waistband of her trousers she tucks opposite 
 corners of both handkerchiefs so that they hang as pan- 
 niers: the hands pushed through show the panniers 
 empty; she would receive gifts. To show, too, that she 
 can give, a flourishing gesture releases a corner of each, 
 to spill the imagined contents. Interest progresses until 
 as a climax she kisses one of the fluttering cloths, slowly 
 passes it downward over heart and body, and throws it 
 in a wad to the elected one. The token is his passport 
 to her ; and its return at any later time is announcement 
 that she no longer interests him. 
 
 One dance the Arabs have that is not associated with 
 the idea of symbolism, but is rather a vehicle for the 
 display of technical skill for skill's own sake. It is the 
 Flour Dance. On the floor a design is drawn in an even 
 layer of flour a favourite figure is the square imposed 
 on a circle, familiar in Saracenic ornament. The dan-
 
 206 THE DANCE 
 
 cer's first journey over the figure establishes a series 
 of footprints ; a successful performance consists in plant- 
 ing the feet in the same tracks during subsequent rounds. 
 Difficulties can be added by crossings of the feet, turns 
 and other involutions, and multiplied by increasing speed. 
 This dance was mentioned in connection with the an- 
 cient Greek Dance of the Spilled Meal, of which it may 
 reasonably be supposed to be either a direct descendant 
 or a surviving ancestor. 
 
 There are a number of little dances popular in light 
 entertainment. In one, a woman in the act of eaves- 
 dropping is startled by a lizard dropping on her back. 
 Her efforts to get rid of it attract her husband from his 
 [imagined] conversation on the other side of the cur- 
 tain. She must now explain why she was standing at 
 the curtain, and above all she must appear calm. The 
 comedy opportunity lies in her efforts not to squirm away 
 from the [imagined] lizard. 
 
 Another of these one-character sketches tells of the 
 lazy washerwoman. She enters steadying on her head 
 an imaginary basket of linen. Arriving at the edge of 
 the stream she puts down the basket, kneels, and indo- 
 lently begins mauling and scrubbing the garments over 
 the half-submerged rocks. (And she turns the move- 
 ments into poetry!) But her attention wanders from 
 uncongenial work. Whose hasn't? one sympathetically 
 asks oneself as one watches. She looks up the stream, 
 and down; her eye sees beauties, and her mind finds 
 subjects to wonder about. She falls a-dreaming, and 
 then asleep still kneeling. 
 
 When she wakens, the other women have finished 
 their work and gone, and it is late. Not stopping to 
 wring out the clothes that she hurriedly collects from the
 
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 u 
 
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 1-2 
 
 
 ti o c 
 
 a .SJ5 
 
 5 -SO 
 
 
 1) o
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 207 
 
 pool, she throws them into the basket. Humour is put 
 into the artist's mimicry of the poor woman's efforts to 
 avoid the dripping water, while carrying the weight of 
 a basket of wet clothes balanced on her head. Em- 
 bodying as it does both dream-sentiment and comedy, 
 the little pantomime is a pretty vehicle for versatility. 
 
 A serious story is that of the Mohammedan woman 
 who, against her father's wishes, has married a Jew. 
 The representation opens with the woman's entrance 
 to the room where her father lies dying. Her hair 
 falls loose in token of mourning or penitence. She 
 kneels beside the death-bed, and strips off her many jew- 
 els. Her vow to re-enter the fold of Islam she shows 
 by drawing a strand of her hair across her mouth, sug- 
 gesting the face-covering of the women of Mohamme- 
 dan faith. The father offers his hand to be kissed. 
 Grateful, she slowly rises, crosses the room, closes and 
 bolts the door, in token of shutting out all but the pa- 
 ternal faith. 
 
 The dance of mourning for the dead is a fixed com- 
 position only to the extent of including certain accepted 
 postures; their sequence is not prescribed. "Here he 
 lies dead ; Allah takes him. I am as a fallen tree ; I am 
 alone. He held me in his arms; we played together; 
 and he was my protector." In such manner runs the 
 widow's lament for her departed husband. Pulsing 
 through all is the solemn beat of "darabukkeh" under- 
 toning the wails of mourners. 
 
 The Bedoui of the desert celebrate marriage, peace- 
 compacts, declarations of war and other happy occa- 
 sions with a gun-dance, which is known as a Fantasia 
 or Fantaisie. It in no way conforms to the fundamen- 
 tals of Arabic dancing, and in fact it is a dance in name
 
 208 THE DANCE 
 
 only. But it is joyous exceedingly. Approximately 
 rhythmic rifle-firing is continuous from beginning to 
 end. Performers both mounted and afoot leap and 
 whirl in maniac confusion, shooting up, down and all 
 around in merry abandon. Dust, howls and powder- 
 smoke attack ears, eyes and throat in unison, and the 
 only unhappy ones in the gay assemblage are those that 
 Allah wills to have been shot, stepped on by horses, or 
 both. 
 
 Tangier is the setting of an occasional savage cele- 
 bration of religious fanaticism; and these celebrations, 
 too, fall into a category of quasi-dancing. They are 
 demonstrations of a sect styled the Hamadsha. To a 
 deafening accompaniment of fifes and drums, a few lead- 
 ers start a crude hopping dance in the market-place. 
 The number of participants grows rapidly; excitement 
 increases with the number, until, at a point of frenzy, 
 the leaping fanatics begin hacking their heads with axes. 
 The example is so contagious that small boys dash into 
 the melee and snatch axes from the hands of men, to 
 inflict the same castigation. Christian spectators fre- 
 quently faint at the spectacle, but fascination holds them 
 at their windows until they are overcome. During the 
 four hours or more that the blood-spilling continues, as 
 well as during a period before and after, the street is 
 a dangerous place for the unbeliever. 
 
 Ostrander, the traveller, while in Constantinople, 
 found himself unaccountably in the midst of a celebra- 
 tion differing in character from those of the Hamadsha 
 of Tangier only in the respect of being held at night. 
 The resemblance in all essentials indicates the existence 
 of Mohammedan undercurrents completely unknown to 
 the Western world.
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 209 
 
 Egypt, notwithstanding centuries of Arab domination, 
 preserves or re-creates in her dancing the style 
 shown in the carvings of the Pharaoh dynasties. In 
 contrast to the softly curving Arab movements, the 
 Egyptian's definitely incline to straight lines. Gestures 
 change their direction in angles, rather than curves. 
 Poses of perfect symmetry are sought. Even when 
 symmetry is absent, the serpentine, plastic character of 
 Arab movement is pertinently avoided. The sentiment 
 of architecture is cultivated; the head is not turned on 
 the shoulders, nor the torse on the hips, except as such 
 relaxation is required in the interest of pantomime. In 
 movement and position the Egyptian seeks verticals, 
 horizontals and right angles. To the beauty of the 
 work the severely geometrical treatment adds an ar- 
 chitectural quality almost startling in its surety and 
 majesty. 
 
 Egyptian form "toes out" the artist's feet, so that they 
 are seen without perspective when the performer is 
 facing the spectator. 
 
 Whether the dances of the Valley of the Nile estab- 
 lished the conventions of early relief carvings, or 
 whether, on the other hand, the carvings determined 
 the character of the dances, is a question neither pos- 
 sible nor necessary to decide. Both arts certainly were 
 the expression of rigid religious ceremonialism, and 
 likely are twins. To-day the records in granite are the 
 subject of conscious study on the part of dancers. In 
 the past, too, they undoubtedly have been chart and 
 compass to the sculpture of ephemeral flesh and blood, 
 that unguided might have perished in any one of the 
 thousands of generations of its existence. 
 
 In type of subject and motive the dances of Egypt
 
 210 THE DANCE 
 
 resemble those of the Barbary States, as above described. 
 Mourning, homage and incident are narrated in about 
 the same vocabulary, the dissimilarity of technique be- 
 ing comparable to a dialectic difference of pronunciation 
 of a language. On their commercial side the two are 
 identical. In tourist-ridden cafes of Cairo and Port 
 Said, as in those of Tangier and Algiers, girls dance 
 what the tourist expects and wishes. In the Coptic 
 town of Esneh, dwelling in the ruined temples, is a 
 community of people known as Almees. They are lit- 
 erally a tribe of dancers, removed by a khediye in 
 former times from Cairo on grounds of impropriety. 
 Dancing as they do in the temples of five thousand years 
 ago, they form a curious link with antiquity. Their 
 work, however, is said to be shaped to the tourist de- 
 mand. 
 
 Such dances, however, despite the insistence with 
 which they are pushed upon the attention of tourists, 
 are not of the kind with which the name of Egypt de- 
 serves to be associated. The mystic still dwells along 
 the shores of the Nile; but its votaries do not commer- 
 cialise it, nor is it a commodity that lends itself to sale 
 and purchase, even were there a disposition so to de- 
 grade it. One of the dances illustrated by Zourna sym- 
 bolises in terms as delicate as the most ethereal imag- 
 inings, the awakening of the soul. 
 
 The body's initial lack of the spiritual spark is repre- 
 sented by the crossed hands, as bodies are carved on sep- 
 ulchres. An imperceptible glide through a series of 
 poses so subtly distinguished from one another that 
 movement, from one moment to the next, is unseen, 
 creates an atmosphere mysterious and almost chill in 
 its twilight gloom. Gropingly the arms rise to the po-
 
 3 

 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" (Continued) 
 She draws aside the veil of the future (5) Life is seen full and plenteous (6) 
 
 To face page 211
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 211 
 
 sition that symbolises prayer for the divine light the 
 hand below the chin emphasising the upturn of the face, 
 the upper hand suggesting the flame. With awe the 
 new intelligence gazes upon the world, open-eyed; then 
 it must draw aside the veil of the future. Fulness of 
 life is seen awaiting, which the dancer expresses by a 
 gesture representing roundness, the accepted Oriental 
 representation of completeness and richness. But wait ! 
 she will grow old, and with bent back will walk stumbling 
 at the heels of a camel. But a defiance to age and the 
 future! Now she is young; her body is straight and 
 her limbs round. A defiant expression of the joy of 
 life follows, yet undertoned withal with unforgettable 
 sadness; movements of happiness, a face of tragedy. 
 
 The sombre majesty of the pictures, especially those 
 of the search into the future; the reverence-compelling 
 mystery of the somnambulistic movements a hundred 
 things about this dance raise it to the very uppermost 
 plane of its kind of art. So far beyond mere skill are 
 its movements, so completely alien to anything in Occi- 
 dental knowledge, that to Occidental eyes they are as 
 unearthly as they are imposing. Reason fails, chloro- 
 formed by beauty; the real becomes the unreal, the un- 
 real the real. Imagination is released from the tentacles 
 of fact and time. The future ? It could be seen for the 
 trouble of turning the head to look ; but what profit fore- 
 knowledge either of cuts or caresses? Curiosity is 
 for the very young. Better and wiser the lot of igno- 
 rance. . . . 
 
 Hypnotism of a kind? Granted. Finely rendered, 
 this dance represents the utmost development of the co- 
 ordination of rhythm, sentiment, and appropriateness 
 of movement. That combination in its turn is undoubt-
 
 212 THE DANCE 
 
 edly the essence of the Oriental magic that, since the 
 world was young, has enabled men to dream dreams 
 and see visions. Among the newer civilisations the 
 emotional power of rhythm is as unknown as it is un- 
 tried. 
 
 The Egyptian's passion for decoration is served by 
 the dance, no less ably than is his love of the metaphys- 
 ical. In the homes of the rich there is said to be a form 
 of decorative choreography, like a ballet in structure, 
 that duplicates and animates a painted or sculptured 
 frieze on the walls of the room. The dancers enter one 
 at a time, taking their positions in turn under the fig- 
 ures of the frieze, copying each in pose as they come into 
 place under it. The intervals between poses are of 
 course enriched by carefully related movements, so that 
 the line of dancers, advancing together from figure to 
 figure, shall move as a harmonised unit. The scheme 
 creates a manifold interest: the line of dancers repre- 
 sents an animated version of the frieze; though it is 
 seen to move, its figures remain in a sense unchanged; 
 yet to watch any one performer is to see her change 
 constantly. The human line and the mural frieze col- 
 lectively form a background for the work of a leading 
 dancer, who flits from place and duplicates the poses of 
 such figures as she may choose. 
 
 In another entertainment, descriptions tell of huge 
 vases carried in and placed back of the dancing space, 
 as though they were decorative adjuncts forgotten un- 
 til the last moment. They are placed, and the servants 
 retire, just before the first dancer opens the programme. 
 A spectator unfamiliar with the diversion would notice 
 that the vases were elaborately ornamented with carved 
 figures. These one by one relax their archaic severity

 
 "DANCE OF THE SOUL'S JOURNEY" (Continued) 
 
 Yet now, from the crown of her head (10) To the soles of her feet she is 
 
 perfect (n) 
 
 To face page zi}
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 213 
 
 of pose and very slowly come to life. Keeping the col- 
 our of the stone and without wholly losing its unbending 
 character, each dances her allotted number and returns 
 to her pose on the vase. 
 
 The foregoing is by no means a complete list of 
 Egypt's dances of decorative interest or occult signifi- 
 cance. Dance representations of subjects of every- 
 day interest are also popular ; there is one that sketches 
 a series of incidents connected with a hunt with a fal- 
 con. But, as stated in another place, the choreographic 
 taste of Egypt has many points of similarity with that 
 of the Arabs of all the southern coast of the Mediter- 
 ranean. Egyptian technique is distinct, its interpreta- 
 tion of the abstract is marvellously developed, its union 
 of the dance with architecture is its own. But its taste 
 in pantomimes of light motive is already characterised 
 without the addition of further examples. 
 
 Following Oriental dancing eastward toward India, 
 its probable birthplace, it is found to preserve with ap- 
 proximate consistency certain general characteristics. 
 The combined pantomimic and decorative use of the 
 arms, subject to regional ideas as to what comprises 
 decorative quality, runs through it all. The apparent 
 freedom of chest, abdomen and hips from any restrict- 
 ing inter-relationships, is an attribute of it emphasised 
 in some localities more than others ; it decreases toward 
 the north, generally speaking. The women of Turkey 
 compare with those of the Barbary States in phenomenal 
 flexibility and control of the abdominal muscle result- 
 ing in capability for a species of contortion not at all 
 agreeable when exaggerated. 
 
 A principle of all Oriental dancing is its frank ac- 
 knowledgment of avoirdupois. It employs none of the
 
 214 THE DANCE 
 
 devices by which lightness is achieved, choosing as its 
 aim, rather, the representation of a plastic quality that 
 exploits rather than denies the meatiness of flesh texture. 
 The heel is not often raised high from the ground, and 
 indeed the foot is often planted flat. A mannerism in- 
 tensely characteristic of the Oriental use of the foot is 
 a trick of quickly changing its direction after it is set 
 on the floor but before the weight of the body is shifted 
 to it ; the twist may leave the heel stationary as a pivot, 
 or the ball. The effect is as though the dancer were 
 making a feint to deceive the spectator as to the direc- 
 tion of the next turn, and doubtless such contribution 
 to interest is the intent. It at least adds intricacy, and 
 directs attention to a pretty foot. Of the latter adorn- 
 ment, whether covered with little Turkish slipper with 
 turned-up toe, or bare, possessors are impartially proud. 
 
 Mystery of movement in certain parts is a further 
 characteristic distinguishing the Oriental work from 
 anything to be found in the Occident, with the exception 
 of certain tricks of the Spanish Gipsy tricks which, 
 after all, furnish no exception, since they are Moorish 
 absolutely. The Oriental covers little space in her work. 
 A space large enough to kneel on would admit all that 
 her art requires. She has no leaps to make, nor open 
 leg-movements. Much of the time she has both feet 
 on the floor, is active chiefly in arms and body. Much 
 more of the time her feet are engaged in steps hardly 
 noticeable. 
 
 The foregoing observations on Oriental work apply 
 more particularly to the low latitudes than to lands far- 
 ther removed from the equator. China and Japan have 
 a choreography like that of the Southern regions in 
 some respects ; but their custom of bundling the dancer
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 
 
 215 
 
 IB 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL NOTES. 
 Dancing girls of Biskra. 
 Turkish Sword Dance. 
 
 Egyptian bas-relief, Metropolitan Museum, N. Y. 
 
 Japanese Dance of War. Japanese Flower Dance. 
 
 The Hula-Hula Dance, Hawaiian Islands.
 
 216 THE DANCE 
 
 up in clothes is the cause also of differences so pro- 
 nounced that they had best be considered as of a differ- 
 ent category. Purely as a convenience, therefore, let 
 it be understood that Japanese and Chinese dancing 
 shall be referred to by those names; and that the word 
 Oriental shall be understood to signify the dances of 
 the sinuous-body type, to which pertain those of the 
 Arabs of North Africa and elsewhere, the Persians, 
 Turks and some others. 
 
 To the dancing of men, where any is done, generali- 
 ties as to the style of Oriental dancing fail to fit in many 
 cases. Exceptions are not numerous, however ; because, 
 if for no other reason, far the greater part of Oriental 
 dancing is done by women. Of the few exceptions some 
 are dances of religion, others of war. 
 
 An intoxicating Sword Dance is practiced in Turkey. 
 Like almost everything else that is danced (or sung or 
 acted) its merit of course depends in great degree on 
 the quality of its interpretation. Well done, this Turk- 
 ish Sword Dance shows itself a composition of rare in- 
 dividuality and a fine, wild beauty; for good measure, 
 it is a sword combat of a reality that threatens the spec- 
 tator with heart failure. The two combatants advance 
 and retreat, accenting the music with clashes of sword 
 on shield ; the interest is that of a barbarously beautiful 
 dance as long as they continue to face each other. Not- 
 withstanding rapidity, the chances are against a mis- 
 hap. But when of a sudden both launch themselves 
 on a series of lightning rond de jambe pirouettes, the 
 scimitars sweeping around fast enough to cut a man 
 in two if he should fail to parry, the affair becomes a 
 sporting event, and that of a kind to harrow the nerves. 
 
 Turkey also is the place, or one of the places, where
 
 o 2
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 217 
 
 Whirling Dervishes are educated for their curious call- 
 ing. Mr. H. C. Ostrander is authority for the state- 
 ment that an apprenticeship of a thousand days is con- 
 sidered a necessary preparation for proper performance 
 of this apparently simple act of devotion. Since nothing 
 whatever is attempted in step beyond that which the 
 ballet-dancers call "Italian turns," it must be supposed 
 that the art of the Whirling Dervish has qualities that 
 do not appear on the surface. It is taught in monas- 
 teries scattered through the mountainous regions. 
 
 The Caucasus, that land less known than fabled, has 
 dances of a fame as persistent as it is vague. Its map 
 is dotted with names immortalised in the Arabian Nights. 
 It is the setting of Scheherazade and Sumurun; a re- 
 gion whose inhabitants declare their intention never to 
 become Occidentalised, and whom no power is likely to 
 push in any direction. Being under the Czar's domin- 
 ion, most of its few visitors are Russians; they alone 
 among Occidentals possess any definite knowledge of 
 its choreography. Princess Chirinski-Chichmatoff, at 
 present making it an object of special study, writes the 
 following in reply to an inquiry from the authors : 
 
 "Lezginka, the Oriental Dance of the Caucasus, was 
 born in the mountains of a beautiful country whose na- 
 ture is wild and grandiose; among a people courageous 
 and energetic, who have preserved much of the sav- 
 agery and temperament of the Oriental races. 
 
 "The men of these people . . . have the custom of 
 never parting from the poniard. They pass the greater 
 part of their time horseback, always prepared to meet 
 an enemy and to defend the happiness and honour of 
 the family. To this day they retain the custom of an- 
 swering for every spilling of blood with a revenge ; each
 
 218 THE DANCE 
 
 victim has his victim. There still exists the custom of 
 abducting the fiancee from the paternal house and car- 
 rying her away to one's own. The women have all the 
 timidity of beings who live under the strongest of des- 
 potism. They have preserved all the softness and grace 
 of daughters of the Orient, with body accustomed to 
 careful attention and not to any physical work; who 
 seek only to rest, to look at themselves, and to enjoy 
 the gifts by which they are favoured by nature and 
 usage. Under this exterior the woman keeps covered 
 many passions which sleep until the first moment of 
 provocation, when they break forth like the eruption of 
 a volcano surrounding her with fire that sweeps with 
 it any imprudent one that happens to be near. Pas- 
 sion is the principal theme in the life of an Oriental 
 woman, and that sentiment she can vary like a vir- 
 tuoso. . . . 
 
 "You see her quiet, beautiful, relaxed, in the calm of 
 a great fatigue, with softness enveloping face and move- 
 ments. Suddenly one detects an unusual sound, a look 
 cast, a movement she is fired, she becomes fierce and 
 wild like all the Nature around her. You see before 
 you a tigress, beautiful, live and strong, ready to spring 
 on the prey, playing and attracting, making mischief 
 and exhausting herself at the same time. After which 
 her movements become few, slow, tired and melancholy. 
 
 "Thus is Oriental dancing built on contrasts; senti- 
 ments and moods change unexpectedly. Gentle, re- 
 laxed and melancholy, of a sudden it is brusque, ani- 
 mated, fiery. It has much coquetry, passion, and often 
 tragedy." 
 
 In India dancing is sharply divided into the classes 
 of sacred and profane. In the latter division are to be
 
 FROM THE DANCES OF THE FALCON 
 By Zourna 
 
 Shock as the bird strikes his quarry (i) Rejoicing as he overcomes it (2)
 
 DANCING GIRLS OF ALGIERS 
 
 To face page 219
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 
 
 219 
 
 RELIEFS ON TOWER OF THE TEMPLE OF MADURA (INDIA).
 
 220 THE DANCE 
 
 found dances of ceremony, pantomimic representa- 
 tions of wide variety, and eccentricities that almost tres- 
 pass on the domain of sleight-of-hand. The best known 
 is a Dance of Eggs. The performer, as she starts 
 whirling, takes eggs one by one from a basket that she 
 carries, and sets them into slip-nooses at the several ends 
 of cords that hang from her belt. Centrifugal motion 
 pulls each cord taut as soon as it receives the weight of 
 an egg. Finally all the cords, numbering from a dozen 
 to twenty, are extended, each bearing its insecurely 
 fastened egg. The dance is completed by collecting the 
 eggs and returning them unbroken to the basket. 
 
 Another diversion is the Cobra Dance popularised in 
 America by Miss Ruth St. Denis assisted by numer- 
 ous imitators. One hand is held in a shape to suggest 
 the form of a cobra's head, and huge jewels add a strik- 
 ing resemblance to the creature's eyes. The performer 
 of the cobra representation sits cross-legged. The 
 hand suggesting the snake's head glides over the body, 
 with frequent sudden pauses to reconnoitre; the arm 
 following it in the case of Miss St. Denis so amazingly 
 supple and so skilfully made to seem jointless that it sug- 
 gests the snake's body almost to reality takes the ap- 
 propriate sinuous movements around shoulders and 
 neck. The free hand completes that which at times is 
 almost an illusion by stroking and semi-guiding the 
 head. Miss St. Penis herself watches the hand with 
 just the alertness and caution to convey an impression 
 of latent danger of which she, the snake charmer, is not 
 afraid, but which she must anticipate with keen atten- 
 tion. Withal she never for an instant slips from her 
 high key of grace, rhythm and style. 
 
 It is to Miss St. Denis that America and western
 
 PERSIAN DANCE, PRINCESS CHIRINSKI-CHICHMATOFF 
 
 To face page 2ZO
 
 REPRESENTATIVE ORIENTAL POSES 
 Miss Ruth St. Denis 
 
 Votive offering (3 poses) Decorative motives (3 poses) Disclosure of person 
 
 (i pose) 
 
 To face page
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 221 
 
 Europe owe the greater part of their impressions of the 
 dancing of the Far East. She has given the subject 
 years of study; with the object, far more comprehen- 
 sive than an imitation or reproduction of specific dances, 
 of interpreting the Oriental spirit. To this end Miss 
 St. Denis uses the structural facts of the various dances 
 as a basis for an embodiment of their character in such 
 form that it shall be comprehensible to Western eyes 
 and among Western surroundings. The loss insep- 
 arable from the adaptation of such a creation to the 
 conventions of the stage, she compensates perhaps 
 more than compensates by a concerted use of lights, 
 colour and music, co-operating to produce a sense of 
 dreamy wonder, and to unite in the expression of a 
 certain significance. 
 
 Her Nautch Dance, with its whirling fountain of 
 golden tissue, she sets in the palace of a rajah, where 
 it serves a social purpose similar to that of the Dance 
 of Greeting already described. The Spirit of Incense is 
 an interpretation of the contemplative spirit that ac- 
 companies Buddhistic thought and worship. The Tem- 
 ple with which Miss St. Denis remains an inseparable 
 part, in the mind of every one who has seen it throws 
 the spectator into an attitude of something like awe at 
 the rise of the curtain, so perfectly considered is an in- 
 definable relationship of magnificence and semi-gloom 
 in the setting. An idol occupies a shrine in the centre 
 of the stage. After a stately ritual executed by priests, 
 the idol (Radha) descends and performs a Dance of the 
 Five Senses, glorifying physical enjoyment. Inter- 
 woven with increasing manifestations of pleasure in 
 the senses is a counter-expression of increasing despair. 
 The opposed sentiments reach their climaxes simulta-
 
 222 THE DANCE 
 
 neously. Radha resumes her shrine, and the attitude 
 of endless contemplation, in token that peace of spirit 
 lies only in denial of sensual claims. 
 
 The technical character with which Miss St. Denis 
 invests the Indian representations is, first, the elimina- 
 tion of any movement that might detract from a feeling 
 of continuity. Every action proceeds in waves ; a ripple 
 slowly undulates down the body, and even seems to con- 
 tinue on its way into the earth ; like a wave running the 
 length of a cord, a ripple glides from body through the 
 extended arms and fingers, to go on indefinitely through 
 the air. Rapid movements are employed only enough 
 to meet the demands of variety. Long gesture, long 
 line, deliberate action and even colour quality are held 
 in an indescribable rapport with the insistent tempo 
 with which the whole is bound together; there is no 
 escape from acceptance of the resultant multiple rhythm ; 
 it is inevitable. A simple, rapid movement, therefore, 
 introduced with due consideration of all the parts of 
 the complex, magic mechanism, has the dramatic power 
 literally to startle. 
 
 The success of the composition as a whole, in its pur- 
 pose of conveying an impression of the very essence 
 of an aspect of India, is asserted most emphatically by 
 those to whom that mysterious land is best known. To 
 regard the production as an exposition of Indian dan- 
 cing would be quite beside the point. The dances, 
 though wholly consistent with their originals in point 
 of character, are only a part of a whole. Nor do they 
 pretend to exploit the complete range of Indian choreo- 
 graphy; Miss St. Denis herself would be the first to 
 disclaim any such intention. As she explains her work, 
 she uses the dancing of a people as a basis on which to
 
 JAVANESE DANCER, MODERN 
 
 To face page 211
 
 RELIEF CARVINGS, TEMPLE OF BOROBODUL, JAVA 
 Dance of Greeting [?] (i) Dance of Worship (2) An Arrow Dance (3) 
 
 To face page 125
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 223 
 
 compose a translation of that people's point of view and 
 habit of thought. 
 
 To exactly the same process Bizet subjected the music 
 of Spain to produce the score of Carmen; Le Sage to 
 construct Gil Bias. Than the latter there is nothing 
 in Spain that could more quickly acquaint a foreigner 
 with certain aspects of "Espafiolism." 
 
 A link with antiquity is furnished by multitudinous 
 carvings of dancers on Hindu and Buddhistic temples 
 in India and Java. The temple in Java, some of whose 
 sculpture is here reproduced, was recently rediscovered 
 after several centuries of burial in a jungle. It is 
 known to be at least eight hundred years old. A com- 
 parison between the style of the dancers there repre- 
 sented, that of the little Javanese present-day dancer 
 shown in a photograph, and that which is indicated in 
 line drawings (from photographs of temples in India) 
 hints at indefinite age back of Oriental dancing as we 
 know it, as to style, technique and spirit. The photo- 
 graphs, including those from which the line drawings 
 were made, are from the collection of Mr. H. C. Os- 
 trander. 
 
 With variations, the India type of movement and 
 pantomime, with the practice of striking a significant 
 pose at regular intervals, continues eastward as far as 
 the Hawaiian Islands. The Hula-Hula of the graceful 
 Hawaiians has been well exemplified recently in an in- 
 terpolation in The Bird of Paradise. Essentially, the 
 Hula-Hula is a dance of coquetry; its thematic posi- 
 tion, which recurs like a refrain, is that shown in one 
 of the accompanying drawings. 
 
 Any effort to trace the path of Oriental dancing far- 
 ther east than the Hawaiian Islands leads to the shoals
 
 224 THE DANCE 
 
 of unsubstantial speculation. Aztec ruins are said (on 
 authority not vouched for) to bear carvings that show 
 the early existence of the India type of dancing in Mex- 
 ico. There are said to be traces of India influences in 
 the dancing of Mexican Indians of to-day. But the in- 
 terest of such fact even if it is a fact is more closely 
 related to ethnology than choreography; because it is 
 pretty certain that any trace of India dancing that may 
 exist will be an almost unrecognisable corruption. The 
 study of dances on grounds of oddity, ethnological curi- 
 osity or legendary association leads away from the 
 study of dancing for its own sake, and that of its in- 
 herent beauty. It is in the endeavour to keep within 
 the lines of reasonably pure choreography that this 
 book has been restrained from digressions into the 
 quasi-dancing of American Indians, African negroes, 
 various South Sea Islanders and many other interest- 
 ing folk. 
 
 Dancing has an immense importance in religious 
 worship of most of the many denominations of India. 
 Priestesses are trained to it; corps de ballet into which 
 they are organised are maintained in the temples under 
 a system like that of ancient Egypt. Their rites are un- 
 known or practically so to those outside of their own 
 faith. In other cults the rites are performed, in part, 
 by laymen. The latter ceremonies include a not-to-be- 
 described orgy periodically celebrated in certain Hindu 
 temples, by women, with the motives of propitiating 
 Vishnu. 
 
 China has a school of rhythmic pantomime, the move- 
 ment of which hardly justifies its consideration as a 
 branch of real dancing so far as known to the authors. 
 An annual religious spectacle is to be noted: in it are
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 225 
 
 employed animals' heads, recalling the Snake Dance 
 of the Hopi Indians. 
 
 Japan, by means of sundry additions to the older 
 Chinese school of mimetic posturing, has converted it 
 into an organism to which the name of dancing is quite 
 appropriate, and which constitutes by far the greater 
 portion of her national choreography. 
 
 It appears that the dances of occasional merry- 
 makers, priestesses, and the much-misunderstood 
 Geishas have a common characteristic of slow, even 
 movement, small steps, and a highly abstract pantomime. 
 Of a style distinct from these are certain dances of men, 
 including a stirring dance of warriors; in which group 
 is seen vigourous action, a good proportion of open 
 movement, and genuine steps. The accepted classifica- 
 tion of the Japanese, as No, or sacred dancing, and pro- 
 fane, doubtless has its merits ; but the division previously 
 indicated, distinguishing between dances of posture and 
 those of movement, which is the one established by the 
 eye, is at least convenient. 
 
 With choral posture and gesture the Japanese cele- 
 brate auspicious conditions of nature or happy events 
 in the family. The coming of spring; the cherry blos- 
 soms ; the season of fishing with cormorants ; flowers in 
 general; rice-harvest in honour of a thousand occur- 
 rences may be imagined groups of gaily coloured ki- 
 monos enveloping little figures, softly and rhythmically 
 swaying over the green, from each kimono protruding 
 a fan or a bouquet held in a cloth-enshrouded hand. In 
 the tea-house the Geisha (who is a skilled professional 
 entertainer, no more and no less) pantomimes, in deli- 
 cate symbol, the falling of the petals of flowers, the hear- 
 ing of distant music any motive is suitable, apparently,
 
 226 THE DANCE 
 
 so long as it is pretty, dainty, fanciful. Movement con- 
 forms to the same manner of thinking; much of it 
 barely disturbs the silken folds of the kimono. A thou- 
 sand meanings are hidden in little turns and twists of 
 the fan; but, when explained, the connection of act and 
 meaning is often so tenuous that it seems less mysteri- 
 ous, or suggestive, than merely vague. Nevertheless, 
 taking it on its own premise as a demonstration of Japa- 
 nese-doll prettiness, which is not concerned with any but 
 the lightest emotions, this type of dancing is pleasing. 
 Its virtue is its gossamer frailty. 
 
 The dances of war fall into a distinct class. Some of 
 the drawings of Hokkai represent them: combats be- 
 tween swordsmen, or between a swordsman and a spear- 
 man. The dances themselves are charged with a vig- 
 ourous spirit and executed with big, noble movement of 
 flourished weapons. The poses follow the indefinable 
 angularity which, through the very consistency of its 
 use, is an agreeable element in the more virile school of 
 Japanese drawing; and the spicy effect of sharpness so 
 produced combines to admiration with the crab-like de- 
 sign of old Japanese armour. 
 
 Other men's dances, equally vigourous, are recorded 
 in drawings. But any exact study of these or any 
 other dances of Japan is almost hopelessly handicapped 
 by a scarcity of individuals who possess the desirable 
 combination of definite knowledge and personal relia- 
 bility. 
 
 The Japanese theatrical dancing, so called, leads into 
 a labyrinth of pantomime both subtle and involved, and 
 movement so slight that a troop of dancers can continue 
 in action four consecutive hours, without relays. That 
 is almost too much for real dancing, under existing hu-
 
 "NAUTCH DANCE" 
 Miss Ruth St. Denis 
 
 To face page 216
 
 JAPANESE DANCE 
 Miss Ruth St. Denis 
 
 To face page 127
 
 ORIENTAL DANCING 227 
 
 man limitations of heart and muscle. The ballet dancer 
 is entitled to a rest after a solo of four minutes ; to the 
 ballet, therefore, it would be well to return, for the cer- 
 tainty that the discussion is safe again on the solid 
 ground of reality.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 
 
 WHEN a plant has passed a climax of luxuriant 
 blossoming, a heedless owner is likely to leave 
 it to the mercies of weather and worms, while 
 he turns his interest to other plants whose season of 
 bloom is just beginning. 
 
 Taglioni and Ellsler faded about the middle of the 
 nineteenth century. Cerito, Grahn and Grisi were, at 
 best, unable to surpass them. Jenny Lind set people 
 talking about singers, and spending their time listening 
 to songs. Dancers, desperately straining to recatch 
 the lost interest, multiplied entrechats and pirouettes, 
 jumped higher and more bravely than ever. Strain- 
 ing for technical feats, they forgot motive; the public 
 called the ballet meaningless, its work a stupid form of 
 acrobatics, its smile a grimace. A genius could have 
 made such words seem the words of fools; in the de- 
 fault of a genius, the words were accepted as of more 
 or less true judgment. 
 
 The years that followed produced a certain amount 
 of dancing that was good, notably some of the operatic 
 ballets of Europe, and a few ballet spectacles of the 
 seventies and eighties; more that could not exactly be 
 called bad; and, lastly and principally, a series of mon- 
 strosities that were nearly infinite in both number and 
 ugliness. 
 
 In trying to find something that would suit the new 
 
 228
 
 BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 229 
 
 and unsettled state of the public taste, managers ap- 
 parently tried any concoction that could be devised 
 by stage, paint-bridge, property room or box-office. 
 Montmartre dance-halls evolved the Can-can; half of 
 Paris caught its fever; England, and thence America, 
 were engulfed in the lingerie of high kickers. Not 
 dancers, just high kickers. 
 
 "One, two, three, KICK!" was their vocabulary 
 or is, for they are not all dead yet. 
 
 In England several managers at various times of- 
 fered good productions, with casts of capable artists. 
 Of such productions the most fortunate made small 
 profits; the majority lost whatever money was put into 
 them. Managers said the public did not want good 
 work a deduction apparently justifiable. They devised 
 the elaborate scenic production Aladdin's-cave sort 
 of thing, with millions of jewels the size of roc's eggs, 
 delirious with yards and furlongs of red, yellow and 
 green foil-paper, acres of chrome-yellow, and "magic 
 transformation scenes" ; with one hundred people on the 
 stage, one hundred, obviously making two hundred legs, 
 every one of which was considered thrilling and dan- 
 gerous in those days. Of all those legs displayed in 
 all their amplitude, usually not one pair could dance a 
 step ; but they did not need to dance. 
 
 That was the form of art called the extravaganza. 
 It was a naughty thing to patronise. Its inanities, with- 
 out its "stupendous" cost of production, survive in the 
 present-day burlesque. 
 
 In the morbid conditions of Montmartre there came 
 into favour a species of acrobats whose aim was to pro- 
 duce the illusion that their legs and spines were out of 
 joint, if not broken. Although of an ugliness demo-
 
 230 THE DANCE 
 
 niac, their work was called dancing. "Wiry Sal" in 
 England and "Ruth the Twister" in America were the 
 illuminating pseudonyms associated with the specialty. 
 Perhaps a specimen of the kind might still be unearthed 
 in a dime museum. 
 
 Enter Lottie Collins, she of "ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay." 
 To high kicking and contortion, and the Skirt Dance 
 vogue of the moment, she added action so violent that 
 it seemed a menace to life itself. The combination of 
 attractions was irresistible; Europe and America made 
 her rich. Her master-stroke was bending back until her 
 body was horizontal, and violently straightening up to 
 emphasise the "boom" of her song. For no less than 
 a dancer she was a singer! The two talents were em- 
 ployed together. And hordes of little plagiarists of 
 her act, as of every other "hit," brought delight to the 
 many and despair to the few. 
 
 Lottie Collinsism left no territory to be explored in 
 its direction. So an eager world turned to the inanity 
 of sweetness. 
 
 The dear little girl had been discovered. Evil among 
 days ! Preferably she was dimpled. She wore a blond 
 wig with curls falling artlessly over her shoulders. Her 
 eyebrows were painted in a smoothly curved arch ex- 
 tending around on to the sides of her face, and her 
 eyes were shaded with the luxuriant lashes begot of 
 heavy "beading"; they, too, were carried out an indefi- 
 nite distance to the sides. She dressed as a child of 
 twelve, with a sash that conveyed the idea of being 
 dressed for Sunday-school; imagination always sup- 
 plied a cent gripped in her fist. She wore "cunning" 
 little low-heeled shoes, with straps. It was not amiss 
 that she have some sort of sunbonnet, of lace, slipped
 
 BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 231 
 
 carelessly off her flaxen head and hanging down her 
 back. Rouge, with a bloom of rice powder, gave her 
 a perfect peaches-and-cream complexion. Grease paint 
 widened and shortened her lips, curved them into 
 an infantile cupid's bow. And from that cupid's bow 
 emerged, in piercing calliope tones, inflectionless recit- 
 als of her devotion to her dear old mother. At the end 
 of each stanza she had a little dance usually a slow 
 polka-step, one, two, three and kick! (An irreproach- 
 ably discreet little kick, to the side.) Repeat four 
 times each side, and on to the next stanza which in- 
 stead of "mother" and "other," will avail itself of the 
 felicitous rhyme of "roam" and "home," or "heart" 
 and "part." 
 
 Lest the enumeration of the foregoing horrors should 
 be criticised as out of place in a discussion of dancing, 
 be it recorded at this point that the said horrors went 
 under the name of dancing within easy remembrance 
 of people now living, that there are still people living 
 who call them dancing, and for artistic sins of the 
 world as yet unexpiated they still influence the dan- 
 cing situation in these United States. 
 
 The Black Crook is a name that stands for superla- 
 tives. It was the most lavish spectacle America ever 
 had seen. It made such a "hit" as rarely has been 
 duplicated since. Its dancing features, which were of 
 the first order, made more of an impression than had 
 any dancing in this country since Ellsler's tour, in 1840, 
 '41 and '42. Its origin was in part due to the some- 
 times favourable factor of accident. 
 
 "In consequence of the destruction by fire of the 
 Academy of Music, this city," writes J. Allston Brown 
 in his History of the Nezv York Stage, "Jarrett and
 
 232 THE DANCE 
 
 Palmer, who were to have produced La Biche au Bois 
 there, had on their hands a number of artists brought 
 from Europe. They made an arrangement with Wil- 
 liam Wheatley to utilise the ballet troupe, the chief 
 scenic effects, of which they had models, and the trans- 
 formation scene." From those beginnings grew The 
 Black Crook. With Marie Bonfanti, Rita Sangalli, 
 Betty Rigl and Rose Delval as principal dancers, it 
 opened at Niblo's Garden in September, 1866. The 
 run closed in January, 1868, after 475 performances. 
 A return to Niblo's in December, 1870, yielded 122 per- 
 formances. December of the following year added 57 
 to the score. A revival in August, 1872, brought into 
 the company the Kiralfy family, dancers, among whom 
 were the brothers destined to fame as managers and 
 producers. This 1872 revival ran twelve weeks. In 
 1874, Kiralfy Brothers appear as lessees of the Grand 
 Opera House. They initiated their term with The 
 Black Crook, with Bonfanti as premiere. 
 
 Of American appreciation of good dancing panto- 
 mime, during that period, at least, there is no question. 
 It must be borne in mind that the New York perform- 
 ances above mentioned represent only a fraction of the 
 production's total business. The tours that largely 
 occupied the intervals met the same success. The box- 
 office measure of public enthusiasm is incomplete, more- 
 over, without mention of Humpty Dumpty, also a spec- 
 tacular pantomime with good dancing. Of its first run 
 (in New York, and largely coinciding with the first 
 run of The Black Crook in point of time) the gross re- 
 ceipts were $1,406,000. It was commensurately profit- 
 able as a "road" attraction. Pertinent to the quality of 
 its dancing, we have a few words of its manager, Clif-
 
 BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 233 
 
 ton W. Tayleure, as quoted by Brown: ". . . princi- 
 pal dancers were not easily to be found. A quarrel 
 between Vestvalli and Sangalli enabled me to secure the 
 latter. Betty and Emily Rigl, who had previously se- 
 ceded from Niblo's, were also secured." 
 
 Notwithstanding desertions, The Black Crook main- 
 tained its high standards. Its ballet has never since 
 been equalled in America, according to Mme. Bonfanti, 
 in the classic style of work. 
 
 For its managers, at least, dancing had earned for- 
 tunes. To the Kiralfys it was evident, too, that the 
 kind of dancing America wanted was good dancing. 
 To produce their Excelsior in 1882 they brought from 
 Paris Sr. Ettore Coppini, now ballet-master of the 
 Metropolitan Opera; and George Saracco, now ballet- 
 master of the Brussels Opera, as a leading dancer. 
 Nor did Jarrett and Palmer modify their faith in qual- 
 ity. Their White Fawn, with an excellent ballet, was 
 little less successful than The Black Crook. 
 
 The fame of such works is food for parasites; crea- 
 tures incapable of discerning the quality of successful 
 works, and upon whom the goodness of the success- 
 ful dancing had made no impression. Black Crook and 
 White Fawn companies overran the country like a flood 
 of counterfeit money one part fine, ninety-nine parts 
 base. Plausible advertising protected the deception, but 
 only for a time. It was not long before lovers of good 
 dancing began to realise that they were being defrauded. 
 
 In a similar contingency, the supporting public of a 
 baseball club loses no time in applying to that club's 
 manager whatever pressure may be necessary as a 
 means to correcting shortcomings, as far as within him 
 lies. The source of their ability to do this is twofold:
 
 234 THE DANCE 
 
 they can analyse the game, and they have a vocabulary 
 in which to express themselves. Baseball had not so 
 many enthusiasts in those days as dancing had. But 
 the appreciators of dancing lacked analytical knowledge 
 of the art, and the language in which to discuss it. 
 Promoters of counterfeits were not taken to task, there- 
 fore, as would have been to their own good. Instead, 
 the names of Black Crook, White Fawn, dancing and 
 pantomime became synonyms for theatrical imposition, 
 and America laid aside interest in them and all their 
 appurtenances. 
 
 Of all the consequences of the above incidents, per- 
 haps the most unfortunate was a generally accepted 
 managerial deduction that America does not like dan- 
 cing after all. Though the Russian ballet has shaken 
 that belief, the belief is not dead yet. 
 
 There is a saying that no man is indispensable; that, 
 after his removal, there is always another to take his 
 place. The saying is not true. 
 
 Pantomime not dancing to be sure, but so closely 
 related to it that the prosperity of either usually means 
 that of both at one time had the alliance of Augustin 
 Daly. He believed in it as a great art, and contem- 
 plated increasingly ambitious productions. To those 
 closely associated with him he declared himself willing 
 to lose money on it for three years, and more if neces- 
 sary; he was confident that eventually it would attain 
 to great popularity in this country. But after produ- 
 cing L'Enfant Prodigue and Pygmalion and Galatea, 
 death stepped in and took away from the stage one of 
 the best influences it ever had, and from dancing a 
 possible friendship of the kind it sorely needed.
 
 BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 235 
 
 In the eighties there was in Chicago a child who had 
 considerable fame as a temperance lecturer. Her name 
 was Loie Fuller. She was moved to take dancing les- 
 sons; but (according to biographers) gave them up 
 after a few lessons, on account of difficulty. After 
 a certain amount of voice culture, she qualified as an 
 actress with a singing part. During an engagement 
 in this capacity she received, from a friend in India, 
 a present of a long scarf of extremely thin silk. While 
 playing with it, delighting in its power to float in the 
 air almost like a vapour, Miss Fuller received the idea 
 that was to bring her before the world, the Serpentine 
 Dance. The dance was there in its essence, needing 
 only arrangement and polish, and surety of keeping a 
 great volume of cloth afloat without entanglement. 
 Steps were of no consequence, nor quality of movement 
 in arms or body. The cloth was the thing, and Miss 
 Fuller lost no time on non-essentials. 
 
 The success of the Serpentine was not one of those 
 victories gained after long experimenting for a perfect 
 expression, patiently educating the public, and years of 
 disappointments. It was instantaneous and complete; 
 a few weeks sufficed to make Loie Fuller a national 
 figure. A period of tremendous popularity followed, 
 popularity amounting to a fashion. And still another 
 impulse was to come, second only in importance to the 
 use of the gauze itself. 
 
 In Paris Miss Fuller had a sketch in which she, a 
 solitary figure, stood on a height at dawn, silhouetted 
 against the sky. The rising sun was arranged to il- 
 luminate, one after another, the prominences in the 
 landscape falling away into the distance. The figure,
 
 236 THE DANCE 
 
 on being touched by the rays, represented its awaken- 
 ing by the fluttering, raising and full play of its hun- 
 dred yards or so of drapery. 
 
 It happened that an audience mistook the intent of 
 the effect, and greeted it as a dance of fire. The up- 
 ward rush of the cloth, obviously, had suggested flame. 
 "La Loie" lost not a moment in seeing the possibilities, 
 nor an hour in setting to work on their development. 
 Stage electric lighting was new ; so new that it acknowl- 
 edged no limitations. Electricians were enthusiastic 
 over new problems, because new problems were being 
 solved by new and sometimes sensational inventions. 
 To lighting Miss Fuller turned to make the effect of 
 the fire dance unmistakable and startling. With the 
 result that the colours and movement of flame were al- 
 most counterfeited. Variously coloured glasses lent 
 their tints to the rays of spot lights ; set into discs made 
 to revolve in front of the lamp, they simulated the up- 
 ward rush that helps make flame exciting. As a pre- 
 caution against theft of ideas, the essential parts of the 
 electric arrangements are said to have been trusted 
 exclusively to Miss Fuller's brothers. 
 
 La Danse de Feu, consistently prepared as such, cre- 
 ated an enthusiasm in Paris probably equal to the "hit" 
 of the Serpentine in America. Indeed Miss Fuller was 
 practically adopted into the French nation, where she 
 was affectionately and widely known as "La Loie." 
 French is the language in which she wrote her memoirs. 
 (Mes Memoir es, Loie Fuller.) 
 
 Her work, always startling, never failed of being 
 agreeable also. By a loose application of the word it 
 was justified in being called dancing. Strictly speak- 
 ing it was not, from the point of view of step, movement
 
 BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 237 
 
 or posture. Interest in steps the work frankly dis- 
 claimed by its own terms ; an easy movement from place 
 to place, with reference always to the drapery, was all 
 that was undertaken in the department of foot-work. 
 The arms were equally subordinated to the drapery; 
 their movements, as interpretation or decoration, meant 
 nothing. The performer held in each hand a short pole 
 as aid to manipulation of the cloth, in which her arms 
 were buried most of the time. They committed no 
 awkwardness, nor did they contribute to the effect ex- 
 cept as they furnished motive power. As to the drap- 
 ery, any idea of making it a vehicle of controlled lines 
 would obviously have been out of the question. Colour 
 without form was the result ; and form, when all is said 
 and done, is the essence not only of dancing, but of any 
 art that would attempt to convey a message to the senses 
 as well as pleasure to the eye. 
 
 Imitators affected Miss Fuller very little. So closely 
 were her means guarded it is said that no one of her 
 designers and sewing-women knew more than a part 
 of the construction of her draperies that attempts to 
 reproduce her work were generally laborious compro- 
 mises with failure. But the musical comedy stage un- 
 derwent an inundation of illuminated dry-goods. With 
 the mechanical problem simplified by the distribution 
 of the hundred yards of drapery among forty people, 
 there followed a sea of cavorting rainbows and prisms 
 that lacked even a semi-careful selection of colours. 
 
 The World's Fair in Chicago brought to America a 
 variety of dancers, most of them good. The novelty 
 element was the work of the Orient. The Oriental 
 point of view differs from that of England and Amer- 
 ica; it accepts as natural the existence of sex. In all
 
 238 THE DANCE 
 
 its expressions, whether literary, sculptural, pictorial, 
 or choreographic, the subject of sex is neither avoided 
 nor emphasised. It takes its place among the actua- 
 ting dramatic motives exactly as it has done in the ex- 
 pressions of all civilisations of all times, except those 
 of our Anglo-Saxon civilisation since about 1620, in 
 which it is evaded, and of certain decadent civilisations, 
 where it is an obsession. 
 
 The World's Fair crowd was so amazed by the Ori- 
 ental disregard of Puritan tradition that it could see 
 nothing in dances of India and North Africa except 
 obscenity. Instead of trying to acquaint the public with 
 the wealth of poetic symbolism of the dances, and their 
 unlimited scope of meaning, every manager on the Mid- 
 way at once adopted the motto of the majority of his 
 profession : "Give the public what it wants." That at 
 least is the inference from conditions. Before the fair 
 was a month old there was hardly an Oriental dancing 
 attraction on the grounds that did not claim, in the 
 sly-dog language of naughty suggestion, to surpass all 
 competitors in lewdness. And it verily seemed as 
 though most of them were justified in their claims. 
 
 They all made money. And they created against 
 Oriental dancing a prejudice just beginning to melt 
 now at the end of twenty years ; the majority of the pub- 
 lic is still convinced that no Oriental dancing is any- 
 thing but a pretext for offensiveness. For any physical 
 quality truly is offensive the moment it is unduly in- 
 sisted upon. And with few exceptions the managers 
 of the unhappy Arabs dancing in this country have in- 
 spired their charges to exaggerate one quality to the 
 almost complete exclusion of every other one. 
 
 The ghastly reaction of such a state of affairs is on
 
 BALLET IN ITS DARK AGE 239 
 
 dancing in general. In this present year, 1913, one of 
 the most prominent and successful managers in Amer- 
 ica said: "There are two ways to succeed with dan- 
 cers. If they have a sensational acrobatic novelty that 
 never has been seen before, that will make money. 
 Otherwise you've got to take their clothes off, if you 
 want anybody to look at 'em. Duncan? St. Denis? 
 What does the American public care about art? They 
 have succeeded because they took their clothes off." 
 
 It sounds unreal, it is so demonstrably silly. But it 
 was what that manager said. In his profession there 
 are several who hold contrary beliefs; but the one 
 quoted is of the opinion common among the present 
 custodians of the dancing art in America. In their 
 offices is determined what character of dancing shall 
 occupy the stage ; to their beliefs the lover of good dan- 
 cing must give heed. 
 
 Any refutation of the above cynicism as affecting 
 Miss Duncan and Miss St. Denis is superfluous. Their 
 work has at all times been charged with a big, roman- 
 tic or mystic meaning. Imitators, basing their activi- 
 ties on the manager's creed above quoted, have furnished 
 an illuminating experiment to determine exactly what 
 interest the public finds in the work of the two artists 
 named. Invariable failure has accompanied their ap- 
 proximate nudity, despite the fact that many of them 
 are pretty in face and figure. 
 
 Great dancers have come, been seen, but until the 
 coming of the Russians have achieved few victories 
 of lasting value. Genee is an exception; to delight in 
 her work is to be added a real influence in favour of 
 real art. Carmencita, Otero and Rosario Guerrero, 
 all great artists of expression conveyed through the
 
 240 THE DANCE 
 
 medium of the dances of Spain, have had good seasons 
 in this country. Even though their influence on taste 
 did not seem far-reaching, it must be believed that they 
 helped prepare the way for great things that were to 
 come. 
 
 But the real force of the coming change, the change 
 that was to take its place among the important revolu- 
 tions in the history of all art was quietly preparing itself 
 in an American village.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 
 
 THERE are few people who are complete in any 
 one direction. The statesman hesitates at a 
 measure that will wreck his political organisa- 
 tion, unless he is a complete statesman. The yachts- 
 man will lose a race to pick up a man overboard, unless 
 he is an unscrupulous or complete racing fiend. A cor- 
 poration manager who disregards every consideration 
 except his end may be a law-breaker, but before that 
 he is a complete business man. Cromwell and Luther 
 were complete reformers. Most people in the arts are 
 incomplete artists, because they hesitate to depart from 
 accepted means of expression. They cripple impulse 
 with logic, and accommodate their course more or less 
 to other people's opinions. Noverre was a complete 
 stage director. Isadora Duncan is a complete disciple 
 of beauty. 
 
 Beauty in all its natural manifestations is her reli- 
 gion. Waves and clouds and running water, the nude 
 body and its natural movements are the tokens by which 
 it is revealed to her. Its high priests, by her creed, 
 were the Greeks of old. And, conversely, all other 
 priests are false. In the soul afire with a cause there 
 is no room for adjustment of points of view; such ad- 
 justments bear the form of compromise. That which 
 is not right is wrong not even partly right, but hope- 
 lessly, damnably wrong. A state of mind exactly as 
 
 241
 
 242 THE DANCE 
 
 it should be in a person with an idea, and exactly as it 
 must be if he is going to carry the idea to fruition. 
 
 Miss Duncan is not in attunement with the ballet, 
 and never was. She is a worshipper of nature; not as 
 translated into abstract terms, but as nature is, as re- 
 vealed in the waves and clouds and running water. If 
 she were a leader in a logical controversy instead of one 
 of taste, it would be in order to question how she tol- 
 erates modern music, instead of insisting on a reversion 
 to the music of the winds in the trees ; for certainly the 
 piano is no less a man-made convention than the dan- 
 cer's position sur la pointe, and orchestration is far from 
 the sounds of nature. But the controversy is not an 
 affair of logic, and it follows that any question prompted 
 by logical considerations becomes illogical, automat- 
 ically. The point at issue is that Miss Duncan, com- 
 plete disciple of beauty, is a complete opponent of 
 beauty expressed otherwise than in the way revealed 
 to her. Again, lest this analysis bear any resemblance 
 to criticism, let it be affirmed that her attitude is exactly 
 as it should be in relation to her destiny. 
 
 At an early age she was fascinated by the representa- 
 tions of dancing to be found on Greek ceramics, and in 
 Tanagra and other figures. A work of art means 
 many things to many people. What Miss Duncan saw 
 in the early representations was a direct and perfect ex- 
 pression of nature. Among other elements, she noted 
 in them a full acknowledgment of the law of gravity, 
 which is an obviously natural quality. Now, Miss Dun- 
 can's essay The Dance shows in her mind not the first 
 stirrings of a question as to whether gravity may not be 
 an unfortunate mortal limitation. On the contrary, it 
 is natural, therefore right. Therefore the ballet, in
 
 ISADORA DUNCAN 
 
 To face page 142.
 
 Photograph by Claude Harris 
 
 GREEK INTERPRETATIVE DANCE 
 Mme. Pavlowa 
 
 To face page
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 243 
 
 denying gravity, is wrong. The Greeks usually danced 
 without shoes; bare went the feet of Miss Duncan. 
 
 Let it not be supposed that her ideal contemplated 
 an imitation of natural actions, or had any relation to 
 realism. Natural qualities, not actions, she proposed 
 to interpret, not imitate, by means of natural move- 
 ments. That is at least the inference pointed by the 
 essay referred to, confirmed by her work. "Natural 
 movements" would be defined, if the same process of 
 inference may be followed, as movements whose execu- 
 tion are possible by a normal body without special train- 
 ing. From this it does not follow that uncultivated 
 movements would be acceptable by the terms of the 
 proposition. To raise an arm is a natural movement, 
 hence acceptable to this code. To learn to raise it 
 gracefully, a Duncanite would need to put in just as 
 much time and thought as a ballet student, standards 
 of grace being equal. It does, however, follow that 
 any gravity-defying step would be unacceptable by the 
 terms of the proposition. Without special training it 
 cannot be executed, badly, or at all; which, from the 
 Duncan point of view, would throw it into the class of 
 unnatural movements. 
 
 To fix the meaning of the idea of interpreting nat- 
 ural qualities, nothing better can be done than to quote 
 a paragraph of Miss Duncan's own words: "These 
 flowers before me contain the dream of a dance; it 
 could be named: 'The light falling on white flowers.' 
 A dance that would be a subtle translation of the light 
 and the whiteness so pure, so strong, that people 
 would say, 'It is a soul we see moving, a soul that has 
 reached the light and found the whiteness. We are 
 glad it should move so.' Through its human medium
 
 244 THE DANCE 
 
 we have a satisfying sense of the movement of light 
 and glad things. Through this human medium, the 
 movement of all nature runs also through us, is trans- 
 mitted to us from the dancer. We feel the movement 
 of light intermingled with the thought of whiteness. 
 It is a prayer, this dance, each movement reaches in 
 long undulations to the heavens and becomes a part of 
 the eternal rhythm of the spheres." 
 
 Fifteen years ago a creed of interpreting qualities 
 in the manner above indicated, by means of dancing, 
 was quite as alien to the United States as was the 
 Greek costume that left the legs uncovered and the feet 
 unshod. The costume probably was as surprising on 
 the stage then as it would be in a ballroom now. And 
 right there comes in the complete artist. Miss Dun- 
 can knew she was right, and she went ahead. Perhaps 
 she anticipated the snickers with which a new idea is 
 usually greeted; more likely she was sublimely heed- 
 less of immediate effects. 
 
 It was in 1899, or thereabout, that she gave a recital 
 in the little theatre of a dramatic school in Chicago, 
 before an audience principally of dramatic students, 
 
 IMPRESSIONS OF ISADORA DUNCAN.
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 245 
 
 painters and sculptors. After the performance, which 
 took place in the morning, the painters and sculptors 
 unconsciously grouped themselves into informal com- 
 mittees to exchange verdicts. The general conclusion 
 arrived at after hours of acrimonious argument, in 
 most cases was that the young woman had an idea, 
 but that clairvoyancy was required to understand it. 
 At that time, it should be added, Miss Duncan was far 
 from mature in grace, surety or any other of the tech- 
 nical qualities; and her art, na'ive though it be, has 
 its technical requirements just as surely as any other 
 art. 
 
 It is now necessary to transfer attention to certain 
 people whose path and Miss Duncan's were beginning 
 to converge. 
 
 In Russia the ballet is as definitely a ward of the 
 government as the army is. No more carefully are can- 
 didates for a national military academy selected than 
 are applicants for admission to the Imperial Ballet 
 Academy. 
 
 Those admitted are cared for as though each were 
 an heir to the throne, given an all-round art education 
 that could not be duplicated anywhere else in the world, 
 and rigourously drilled in dancing six days a week for 
 seven or eight years. As they qualify for it, they ap- 
 pear on occasion in the corps de ballet of the Imperial 
 Opera, dear to the hearts of nobility and a theatre- 
 going public. By the terms of agreement with the gov- 
 ernment, they are assured employment at specified pay 
 for a specified number of years in the ballet, after which 
 they retire on a pension. The pay is not high, but with 
 it is an assured career and an honourable one, and a 
 likelihood of considerable emolument through instruc-
 
 246 THE DANCE 
 
 tion, imperial gifts and government favours. Withal 
 a thing not lightly to be thrown away. 
 
 Like their contemporaries in Paris and Vienna, the 
 people of St. Petersburg and Moscow (homes of the two 
 Imperial Opera Houses and of the two arms of the 
 Academy) were dissatisfied with their ballet. Beyond 
 the vague charge of lack of interest they could not 
 analyse their complaint. They were puzzled. Train- 
 ing more careful than that given in their Academy could 
 not be. Nor was any school of the dance superior to 
 the composite French-Italian on which the Russian bal- 
 let was based. Each detailed objection was answered; 
 yet a decided majority agreed that something was 
 wrong. 
 
 Miss Duncan, rightly believing that Europe was 
 more attentive than America to a new idea, had left her 
 native land after a period of neither success nor failure 
 in any pronounced degree. She had interested Paris, 
 startled Berlin, and set Vienna into a turmoil of wran- 
 gling. St. Petersburg waited, with interest aroused 
 by echoes from Vienna. 
 
 Before the end of the St. Petersburg performance, 
 M. Mikail Fokine, a director in the Academy, had not 
 only declared Miss Duncan a goddess, as he had a per- 
 fect right to; he, with others, had invited her to give a 
 special performance in the Academy, and that was 
 against the rules. 
 
 The special performance was given; the Romantic 
 Rebellion dates from that hour. In no time at all the se- 
 cessionists were a body including some of the ablest 
 of both masters and pupils. 
 
 With Miss Duncan's technical limitations or virtu- 
 osity they were not concerned. What she brought
 
 MLLE. LOPOUKOWA MLLE. NIJINSKA 
 
 MLLE. PAVLOWA 
 
 With the famous instructor, Sr. E. Ceccetti. From an amateur photograph taken 
 in their student period 
 
 To face page 246
 
 MLLE. LYDIA KYASHT AND M. LYTAZKIN 
 "Harlequin and Blue-bird" 
 
 To face page 247
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 247 
 
 them was the vision of the ballet now known to the 
 world as Russian. To lost pensions and the certain 
 displeasure of a firm-handed government they gave no 
 heed. They were complete idealists, bent on a big pur- 
 pose. Of the stories of that secession that we have 
 had from various participants, not one shows the faint- 
 est reflection that any of the band thought of the possi- 
 ble sacrifice of his career. They were not estimating 
 material prospects. They simply saw the vision of 
 something that looked better to them than the art they 
 had known; into the path indicated by that vision they 
 turned without vacillation, and without emotion save 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 With the fact that they were the advance guard of 
 a movement that was about to assume a significance 
 equal to that of the Barbizon School in painting and of 
 Victor Hugo in literature, these Russians boys and 
 girls in age, most of them were as supremely uncon- 
 cerned as were Adam and Eve with the destiny of the 
 race of which they were founders. To a group of in- 
 complete artists the epic romance of the thing would 
 have appealed, and there would have resulted columns 
 and reams of print to tell about the inspiration, and all 
 the rest of it. In the consciousness of these Russians 
 and make no mistake, most of them are alert, intel- 
 lectually vigourous people there was no concern about 
 their own value as figures in a romance. They were 
 filled with the excitement accompanying the possibility 
 of radically improving their work. 
 
 Spontaneously the pieces of the new structure came 
 together. To M. Fokine the group looked as head. 
 In him they had a choreographer of the highest order, 
 with the imagination of an epic poet. Nijinski and
 
 248 THE DANCE 
 
 Bolm were prominent men of the group; heading the 
 list of women were Miles. Pavlowa, Lopoukowa, and 
 Karsavina. As a matter of exact history, Mr. Joseph 
 Mandelkern points out to us that the enlistment of 
 Mordkin, Volinine and other important recruits oc- 
 curred somewhat later; being in the Moscow arm of 
 the school, their first receipt of the romantic impulse 
 was connected with Miss Duncan's appearance in Mos- 
 cow, which occurred after the St. Petersburg engage- 
 ment. The secession at Moscow was largely a repeti- 
 tion of the occurrences at St. Petersburg. 
 
 The new cause gained, without delay, the alliance 
 of the musical composers, Glazounov, Rimski-Korsakov. 
 Tcherepnin, and others of stature little less. 
 
 Among the forces most important in contribution 
 to the new-born art, moreover, was Leon Bakst, the 
 decorator. M. Bakst, for a number of years, had en- 
 joyed a high and steadily improving position in his 
 craft; he had been variously honoured, he had exe- 
 cuted responsible commissions to the satisfaction of 
 every one with the possible exception of himself. In 
 a comparatively recent interview he is quoted as saying 
 in effect that he believed that the function of a 
 painter was to express emotion rather than to record 
 fact. Taking as an instance an architectural sketch 
 before him, he said that if a change of certain classic 
 architectural proportions would add impressiveness, he 
 would not hesitate to make the necessary changes. In 
 other words, he regarded fact as material and not as 
 an object to be recorded for its own sake. So it may 
 be inferred that his success in rather conservative 
 decoration, notwithstanding that it did not lack the 
 note of individuality, was not satisfying to him.
 
 Photograph by Schnieder, Berlin 
 
 MLLE. PAVLOWA IN AN "ARABESQUE' 
 
 To face page
 
 M. MlKAIL MORDKIN IN AN "ARROW DANCE' 
 
 To face page 149
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 249 
 
 / 
 For material for new compositions in which the new 
 
 creed could be exploited, ballet-master, musician and 
 painter turned unanimously to the legendary lore of 
 Russia and Persia, the intervening land of the Cau- 
 casus, and the near-by realm of Egypt. Strange new 
 plots they found; plots of savagery, passion, and mys- 
 tery. While dancers translated lofty motives into 
 choral and solo steps, musicians worked with mad zeal 
 to render them into tone and tempo. New music was 
 composed, old was seized with avid hand and pounded 
 into its appointed place in the new romantic structure. 
 Bakst and other painters allied with him revelled, 
 now in a deep and ominous palette that should spell 
 mystery, again in ardent and seemingly impossible har- 
 monies that sang wild opulence. 
 
 In short, the secessionists had attained to a point that 
 marked nothing less, and something more, than a re- 
 creation of the mimetic drama of the best days of 
 Athens. They had achieved that at which the early 
 patrons of opera had consciously but unsuccessfully 
 aimed. The Russian achievement is not to be measured 
 except by a glance back into history. 
 
 In the great spaces of the Greek outdoor theatres, 
 actors found their voices inadequate. In consequence, 
 we must accept as essentially true the belief that dra- 
 matic representation underwent a more or less definite 
 division into two forms. One body, complying with the 
 world-old demand for explanatory statement to accom- 
 pany dramatic action, adopted a device to magnify the 
 voice; that device was a small megaphone, concealed by 
 means of a mask. To the unimaginative audience, the 
 resulting falsification of the voice was not objectionable. 
 That species of audience, to this day, is deaf and blind
 
 250 THE DANCE 
 
 to the message of quality or to delight in it. Its interest 
 centres on narrative and it welcomes diagrammatic aid 
 to its understanding of that narrative. The mask, 
 therefore, was rather satisfying than otherwise to the 
 patrons of the drama that it typified. In labelling char- 
 acter, it was a boon to the intellectually toothless; to 
 whom, moreover, its immobility of expression would not 
 be offensive. That the spoken drama was the popular 
 form, the mimo-drama the aristocrat, seems an unavoid- 
 able inference. 
 
 To artists and audience versed in the language of 
 symbol, as opposed to imitation; of suggestion, as op- 
 posed to diagram ; of abstraction, as opposed to material 
 fact to such performers and connoisseurs the vastness 
 of stage and auditorium presented no inconvenience 
 whatever. To both performer and auditor, the elo- 
 quence of pose, step and gesture was sufficient. Indeed, 
 we may suppose that they regarded the spoken word as 
 limiting, rather than amplifying, the meaning of the 
 action it accompanied. The high-heeled cothurnus the 
 pantomimist avoided, for the sake of perfect freedom 
 of foot. To him was open the full resource of facial 
 expression, posture and dance. All of these means, in 
 whole or in part, were denied the wearer of mask and 
 cothurnus. 
 
 Rome, consistent with its own level of artistic men- 
 tality, chose the less imaginative of the Greek forms. 
 It follows that Greek popular drama is identical with 
 the so-called classic Roman drama. 
 
 When the originators of opera set themselves, in the 
 seventeenth century, to the task of re-creating a classic 
 form, it is a matter of record that they turned to Rome 
 for their model.
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 251 
 
 Thus, in availing themselves of advances in the arts 
 of music, scenery and costume, both opera and ballet 
 have strayed from pure classic tradition. And there is 
 no harm in that, per se. But a point to be most strongly 
 emphasised is this: that the Russian ballet has re-cre- 
 ated, in its essence, the best of classic drama. 
 
 Employment of the full eloquence of step, pose and 
 facial expression, without the restriction that the spoken 
 word imposes upon meaning that is the paramount 
 distinction of the Russian ballet's dramatic form. 
 Hardly second in importance is its independence of elab- 
 orate stage mechanism as a means to effects. The first 
 opera busied itself with mechanical contrivances to an 
 extent that was commented upon with amusement 
 by writers in its time. How far its originators were 
 justified in believing that they had re-created a great 
 classic form needs no further comment. That the Rus- 
 sians, searching for the great fundamentals of art, de- 
 vised a form practically coincidental with that accepted 
 by the best intelligence of the best period of Athens, is 
 a chapter of dramatic history whose importance is not 
 likely to be exaggerated. 
 
 We left the secessionists, on an earlier page, in the 
 position of having defied a strong-handed government. 
 In this crisis, M. Sergius Diagilew enters the narrative, 
 not as an artist, but as one of art's indispensable allies. 
 He it was who, some years before, had arranged the ex- 
 hibitions that first acquainted western Europe and 
 America with modern Russian painting. When the rift 
 occurred in the Ballet Academy, M. Diagilew, by virtue 
 of experience and sympathies, was the one man to per- 
 form certain needed diplomatic services in the interest 
 of the rebels. Their situation lacked little of being
 
 252 THE DANCE 
 
 politically serious, M. Diagilew performed the felici- 
 tous miracle of turning a fault into a virtue. 
 
 To proper government authorities he outlined a plan 
 which in itself deserves a place in diplomatic history. 
 "Contract-breakers these people are," he admitted, 
 "and on a par with deserters from the army. But in- 
 stead of punishing them, I have another suggestion. 
 
 "They have created a new and great art. Their 
 combined work represents a greater expression than 
 any living man has seen, perhaps the finest thing of its 
 kind that ever has existed in the world. 
 
 "Europe respects Russia for her force, not for her 
 thought. Its common belief is that Russia is a nation 
 of savages, because it has seen no purely Russian art 
 that it would call great. 
 
 "My proposal is that these people be reinstated in the 
 Opera and the Academy, that they be granted a long 
 leave of absence, and that I be commissioned to arrange 
 for them a season in Paris, as an exhibition of repre- 
 sentative Russian art, sanctioned by the Russian gov- 
 ernment." 
 
 The capital necessary for a full equipment of cos- 
 tumes and scenery was provided by Baron Ginsberg. 
 And there followed the first season of le Ballet Russe 
 at the Chatelet Theatre, in 1905. Paris, like every 
 other progressive city in the world, was surfeited with 
 plays that would better have been enclosed between the 
 covers of books on law, sociology or medicine. Its bal- 
 let, though fighting valiantly against the effect that time 
 works on old governments, old religions, old institu- 
 tions, had settled into the ways of habit, and could no 
 longer fire the mind or the imagination. As to all that 
 miscellany of "musical comedies" that, with their con-
 
 MLLE. LYDIA LOPOUKOWA, M. MIKAIL MORDKIN, IN A BACCHANAL 
 
 To face page 252,
 
 MLI.E. LYDIA LOPOUKOWA 
 
 To face page 153
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 253 
 
 comitant novelties, were wallowing in a gaudy slough 
 of despond ten years ago, Parisians had come to regard 
 them as a highly improbable means even of amusement, 
 leaving edification quite out of account. 
 
 The success of the Russians was assured from the 
 first curtain. Here was something that conveyed a 
 message of noble beauty, executed with the skill of the 
 craftsman possessed of all that education can give, 
 fired with enthusiastic genius. Above all, it was a 
 thing that released thought from earth-bound conditions 
 and, with the persuasion of its multiple beauty, invited 
 it to roam the unlimited domain of poetry and magic. 
 
 Full appreciation required time, naturally. Here was 
 a creation new in freedom of movement and pantomimic 
 vocabulary: dressed in costumes never seen before; 
 backed by scenery in colours never dreamed of, with 
 a species of line-composition like an alien language; 
 and accompanied by music of a type unfamiliar, to many 
 individuals unknown. Wagnerian music to the unac- 
 customed ear is confusing as well as overpowering. 
 The Russian ballet presented its equivalent in three dif- 
 ferent forms acting simultaneously. 
 
 The Russian ballet season is now one of the institu- 
 tions of the French capital. The Russian government 
 annually grants several months' leave of absence to the 
 necessary number of artists, and Paris for several 
 months crowds their performances. The annual in- 
 crease in quantity and depth of thought bestowed upon 
 them, as measured in magazine writings, indicates that 
 public satisfaction with the organisation and its work 
 has not yet found its limits. 
 
 The seasons of 1909-10 and 1910-11 found a small but 
 admirable Russian ballet in the Metropolitan Opera of
 
 254 THE DANCE 
 
 New York. Pavlowa, Lopoukowa, Mordkin, Volinine 
 and Geltzer were of the number. They presented 
 many divertissements in opera performances as well 
 as a number of ballet pantomimes. As to their im- 
 pression on the public, it is most briefly to be ex- 
 pressed by calling attention to the fact that the dancing 
 enthusiasm now strongly rooted in America dates di- 
 rectly back to these Russian ballet seasons in the Metro- 
 politan Opera. Naturally, the public's lack of knowl- 
 edge of the language of pantomime and choreography 
 stood in the way of such an immediate "hit" as the same 
 company had made in Paris. But in spite of incom- 
 plete understanding, New York was charmed from the 
 first, and appreciation grew rapidly through the two sea- 
 sons. 
 
 The contract was not renewed, nor has the Metro- 
 politan Opera undertaken anything great in choreogra- 
 phy since that time, in which it is probably right. Not- 
 withstanding the popularity of the Russians, they did 
 not increase box-office receipts commensurately with the 
 heavy cost of salaries, transportation and incidental ex- 
 penses. 
 
 It is natural, when service is needed, to turn to those 
 whose fitness for such service has been proven. But 
 the opera company, by its service to music, has earned 
 exemption from added responsibilities to art. Since its 
 organisation, the stockholders' dividends have had the 
 form of deficit statements every year until two years ago. 
 Every year the stockholders wrote their checks to ag- 
 gregate a quarter of a million dollars or more that opera 
 cost in excess of its receipts. The past two years have 
 turned the balance into the other column. If they chose 
 to, the same set of gentlemen could, in a few years, put
 
 THE ROMANTIC REVOLUTION 255 
 
 the ballet-drama on the same footing; but the sacrifice 
 of money and effort is more than the public has a right 
 to ask. Against appalling odds, the Metropolitan took 
 up the cause of popularising opera. That the task 
 proves other than a labour of love is due neither to 
 skimping nor to lowering of standards, but to quite the 
 contrary policy. The undertaking has succeeded ; those 
 connected with it are entitled to a period of enjoyment 
 of their rewards. The American Academy of Dancing, 
 when it is organised, is not morally their responsibility. 
 For its own good, moreover, it had best be an independ- 
 ent organisation, with music definitely relegated to the 
 secondary importance. As an auxiliary to music, the 
 dance has not progressed as it should; only as the sole 
 occupant of one of the pedestals to which the great arts 
 are entitled will it receive the attentive care that it de- 
 serves and needs. But this is anticipation of the matter 
 of another chapter. 
 
 Since the Metropolitan engagement, Russian ballets 
 have seldom been seen in America except under misrep- 
 resentative conditions. Not through intentions to mis- 
 represent, but through tactical errors easily understood 
 in the light of subsequent knowledge, they have been too 
 often advertised in such terms as to prepare their audi- 
 ences for sensationalism rather than art. 
 
 A company including some of the best dancers that 
 Russia has produced was headed by a vaudeville per- 
 former whose prominence proceeded from genius in imi- 
 tations, and whose choreographic aspirations were based 
 on two years (the programme confessed the period) of 
 ballet study. It was believed that her name would be of 
 service to the box-office; it was demonstrated that, by 
 the standards of the supporting company, she was not
 
 256 THE DANCE 
 
 a dancer. So she did not dance. Obviously, the func- 
 tion of subordinates is to be subordinate; so, perforce, 
 they did not dance, either. People who came expecting 
 to see great things inevitably felt that the Russian ballet 
 was, to say the least, an overrated institution. A con- 
 sequence even more unfortunate is that many managers 
 draw, from this hapless alliance and its consequences, 
 the deduction that Americans do not like high-class 
 dancing.
 
 MME. PAVLOWA IN A BACCHANAL 
 
 To face page 157
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY AND ITS WORKINGS 
 
 A STUDENT in the Russian Academy does not 
 risk discovering, after some years of study, that 
 he cannot stand the physical training", nor does 
 he learn, when it is too late to turn back, that his road 
 to high places is blocked by defect of health, structure, 
 or proportion. As a candidate for admission he under- 
 goes an examination by a board of physicians, painters 
 and sculptors. If he enters, it is after their approval, 
 the examiners measuring the candidate by the standards 
 of their respective arts. He knows, and his parents 
 know, that he is starting, free from handicap, on the 
 road to an at least respectable position in a respectable 
 profession, with which he will be associated and by which 
 he will be supported through life. His studies will be 
 guided by the best instruction that can be secured; if 
 he has genius it will receive the most favourable of cul- 
 tivati6n. At all times his life will be surrounded by 
 conditions as favourable to physical health as they can 
 be made by science and free expenditure. 
 
 His payment for these advantages is complete renun- 
 ciation of every interest apart from those of the Acad- 
 emy's curriculum. To one not passionately fond of his 
 art, the enforced devotion to work would spell loss of 
 liberty. As a matter of fact, however, this does not 
 often seem to be felt as a privation. The interests of 
 the school are so varied, and the dance is possessed of 
 
 257
 
 258 THE DANCE 
 
 such endless allurement, that life within the academic 
 walls is generally felt to be complete in itself. In other 
 words, the contract binding the pupil is not usually felt 
 as a tether, notwithstanding that its operation covers 
 the most restless years in a boy's or girl's life. 
 
 Seven or eight is the age for entrance, and the con- 
 tract binds the pupil for nine years of training which 
 may be reduced to eight if proficiency warrants. At the 
 expiration of this time the government has all rights to 
 the dancer's services, at a moderate salary, varying ac- 
 cording to the rank for which he qualifies in the ballet 
 organisation. From the graduates of the Academy are 
 recruited the ballets of the two Imperial Opera Houses : 
 the Marianski Theatre in St. Petersburg, and the Opera 
 House in Moscow. In both houses, ballet pantomimes 
 are presented twice a week, approximately. 
 
 Graduates with an aptitude for teaching are so 
 employed. All of which must cost the government a 
 great deal less than would the alternative of hiring corps 
 de ballet, premiers and premieres, and ballet-masters 
 from Paris and Milan. In fact, until half a centtiry 
 ago, foreign talent was depended on for the important 
 work. From its continued use, it may be inferred that 
 the present system is the more satisfactory. 
 
 Naturally, a member of the Imperial ballet must have 
 government consent to leave his country ; departing with- 
 out such consent, he automatically forfeits his pension. 
 A few individuals have chosen the high salaries to which 
 their work entitles them in other parts of the world, and 
 deliberately stayed away at the expiration of a leave of 
 absence. To the great majority, however, the pension 
 and artistic conditions attaching to their home organisa- 
 tion have been the greater inducement.
 
 MLLE. LYDIA LOPOUKOWA 
 
 To face page 259
 
 THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY 259 
 
 Between performances and their preparation, and 
 teaching, it will be seen that the members of the ballet 
 never need pass an unoccupied hour. They are insured 
 against such deterioration as might result from lack of 
 constant work. On the other hand, they are protected 
 against the danger of overwork. Think of the differ- 
 ence between such conditions and those created by com- 
 petition! Between engagements, the generality of bal- 
 let people under the latter conditions study and train, 
 if at all, at their own expense; and competent coaching 
 costs money. During engagements, the number of su- 
 preme efforts of which they are capable each week is 
 considered only by those in whom are combined good 
 fortune and conscience; others arrange their work to 
 economise strength, or else break down. 
 
 Of the curriculum of the school we have been told in 
 some detail by Miss Lydia Lopoukowa. During the 
 first year, which is a period of probation, pupils are al- 
 lowed to visit their parents on Sundays. After that 
 they remain in the direct charge of instructors, in the 
 school, in the opera-houses, and in carriages going and 
 coming; visiting with parents or others is confined to 
 stated times, and is done in the school. If this arrange- 
 ment seems severe, the answers are to be found in re- 
 sults : if any students of any art attain to full artistic de- 
 velopment and perfection of artistry in an equal length 
 of time without similar concentration, enforced either by 
 self or by regulation, then the detachment effected by 
 the Russian Academy is carried to an unnecessary de- 
 gree. 
 
 The curriculum may, for convenience, be divided into 
 two departments, pertaining respectively to technical and 
 general education. The latter is the equivalent of the
 
 260 THE DANCE 
 
 Continental European gymnasium, which carries the stu- 
 dent to a point somewhat more advanced than that which 
 he reaches in the American public high school. 
 
 On the technical side, the training begins with the 
 breadth of a general conservatory's course in the arts. 
 As the pupil's aptitude and tastes begin to crystallise, 
 his instruction becomes increasingly specialised. The 
 first year's work covers, besides dancing, a beginning in 
 music, acting, and a certain amount of drawing. The 
 music includes theory and piano. Acting embraces the 
 beginnings of pantomime, along with enunciation, ex- 
 pression and the rest of it. 
 
 The dancing tuition is based absolutely on the French- 
 Italian ballet. The undisputed success of the romantic 
 movement, and the prevailing sympathy with its motive, 
 have not shaken faith in the classic as a necessary 
 framework for the support of expression and adornment. 
 An orthodox and unreconstructed Italian ballet-master 
 remains in charge of this department; his influence is 
 not modified until after the pupil has acquired the equi- 
 librium, in short the discipline that is a tradition of the 
 classic school alone. Parallel with this training, how- 
 ever, is instruction and drill in plastic gymnastics, which 
 concerns itself with training the body in grace and ex- 
 pression. The separation of the two courses naturally 
 enables the pupil to keep classic precision clear in his 
 mind ; while, having at the same time mastered the more 
 fluid treatment of the plastic gymnastics, he is ready to 
 unite the two understandingly when the proper time ar- 
 rives, and to combine with their graces the eloquence of 
 pantomime. 
 
 Music has sometimes been found to be the natural 
 metier of students whose original intention was dancing.
 
 THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY 261 
 
 In other instances the embryonic dancer has revealed a 
 genius for acting. In such cases the pupil is encouraged 
 to follow the line of natural aptitude. The ranks of both 
 opera and drama in Russia include women whose ulti- 
 mate vocations were discovered after they had become 
 proficient dancers. While such cases are not common, 
 neither are they rare; which is rather illuminating as 
 to the quality of the musical instruction. 
 
 An acquaintance with musical theory is insisted upon 
 as a part of the dancer's equipment, though there be no 
 probability of his ever applying his knowledge in any of 
 the usual ways. Music and dancing are so interwoven 
 that the latter's full meaning can hardly be expressed, 
 or understood, without musical knowledge as an aid. 
 Moreover, of every class of youngsters a certain num- 
 ber are destined to be choreographic composers ; to these 
 a knowledge of orchestral possibilities and limitations is 
 indispensable. Indeed it is an asset of the utmost prac- 
 tical utility to any dancer; any rehearsal demonstrates 
 its value. In respect to this department and its lifelong 
 value to those who have had its training, graduates of 
 other academies unite in approval of the Russian. 
 
 The course in drawing and painting seems to aim at 
 critical appreciation of beauty, as expressed in the ab- 
 stract qualities of grace in line and harmony in colour; 
 this in distinction to the regulation art school discipline 
 in proportion and anatomy of the figure. The practical 
 value of such training, in sharpening the power of con- 
 structive criticism of dancing, is obvious. 
 
 To the accomplishment of all this work and more 
 that need not be detailed the pupils are not driven; 
 they are led. Everything is fun. Play is made con- 
 tributory to the general purpose of training artists. As
 
 262 THE DANCE 
 
 an escape from realities into that world of make-believe 
 that children crave, pantomimes are practiced evenings 
 after dinner; self-expression is encouraged on these oc- 
 casions, criticism no more than hinted. As a play- 
 ground for the girls, a large garden is provided. But 
 the boys, to relax from the restraint of a daily two-hour 
 lesson in French ballet, delight in class fencing lessons. 
 The health of all is under unobtrusive but constant su- 
 pervision. In each of the girls' dormitories a nurse is 
 on watch every night, alert for the first unfavourable 
 symptom and ready, too, we may be sure, with sym- 
 pathy for any little attack of loneliness. Miss Lopou- 
 kowa's remembrances are not of any rigours of work, 
 but rather of a protecting gentleness. 
 
 Diet is studied; the children are trained into hygienic 
 positions in sleep! Hair, teeth, skin, heart, lungs, di- 
 gestion and nerves are cared for by the most capable of 
 specialists. By no means last in importance to a dancer 
 are his feet; the Academy has its chiropodist always in 
 attendance not only to rectify trouble, but to prevent it. 
 
 As the academic years draw toward their close, the 
 pupil receives instruction in supplementary branches 
 necessary to the finished artist. Character dances are 
 not only performed; they are studied in relation to the 
 temperaments of their respective nations. Make-up re- 
 ceives its due attention ; with paint and false hair young 
 Russians practice transforming themselves into Japa- 
 nese, Egyptians, Italians. When they leave the Acad- 
 emy, they know their trade. 
 
 Somehow such an institution seems too good to last; 
 yet its excellence is far from being the product of any 
 momentary enthusiasm. Its beginning was made in the 
 first half of the eighteenth century. Ballets had been
 
 MLLE. LYDIA LOPOUKOWA IN "LE LAC DES CYGNES" 
 
 To face page 261
 
 o 
 
 >
 
 THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY 263 
 
 presented before the Imperial Court as early as 1675. 
 Peter the Great had insisted on Western dancing as one 
 of the means to his end of bringing Russia abreast of 
 the times. Indeed he is supposed to have learned it and 
 taught it himself, as he did shipbuilding. In 1735 the 
 Empress Anne engaged a Neapolitan composer and mu- 
 sical director and a French ballet-master, and bade them 
 present a ballet every week. Cadets from the military 
 academy were at first impressed into service ; which may 
 be contributory to the military exactness of the organ- 
 isation of the Ballet Academy. 
 
 As ballet material, the cadets were gradually (accord- 
 ing to Flitch) replaced by boys and girls of the poorer 
 classes, whom the ballet-master trained free of charge. 
 The assignment of quarters to them in the palace, the 
 appointment of a coachman's widow to take care of them, 
 an appropriation of extra pay to the ballet-master for 
 teaching, may be said to mark the beginnings of the 
 Academy. Its existence has been uninterrupted, and, 
 under the almost idolatrous Russian love of ballet rep- 
 resentations, its growth has been steady. A composite 
 French-Italian technique was adopted, as before stated, 
 and kept unmodified until the recent romantic move- 
 ment had proven its worth. Italian principal dancers 
 were employed until, a generation ago, the need of them 
 was ended by the Imperial Academy's arrival at a condi- 
 tion of adequacy. 
 
 The difference between the romantic ballet and the 
 classic could not be described in an infinity of words, 
 but it can be summarised in a few, and its character sug- 
 gested in a few sketches. Briefly, the difference consists 
 in liberty to depart from classic restriction of pose and 
 movement, wherever such emancipation will contribute
 
 264 THE DANCE 
 
 to expression. This freedom inevitably clashes with 
 ballet tenets that have been unquestioned for a hundred 
 and fifty years. The classic keeps the shoulders down ; 
 the romantic does not hesitate to raise them, one or 
 both, to portray fear, disdain, or what-not. In the eyes 
 of the classicists, straightness of body (its detractors 
 call it rigidity) is of absolute importance ; romanticists, 
 in their Oriental representations, for instance, do not 
 hesitate to exploit the body's sinuosity to the utmost. 
 Yet, in their apparent disregard of choreographic law, 
 they have preserved rigourously the underlying truth of 
 choreographic structure. Than their brilliant steps those 
 of no dancer are cleaner or more perfect ; in equilibrium, 
 in exactness, in all that makes for style and finish, they 
 have no superiors. Nevertheless some of the classic 
 ballet people, especially the Milan element, still protest 
 that the romantic idea, with all its appurtenances, is a 
 heresy. M. Legatt, of the St. Petersburg Academy, is 
 said to group all the new elements into one category: 
 Duncanism ! 
 
 As the painter Bakst (and with him may be mentioned 
 Boris Anisfeldt and others of the same artistic creed), 
 while preserving recognisable national character in his 
 scenes and costumes, does not scruple to subordinate his- 
 torical facts to his motives, so does the romantic ballet- 
 master disregard the natural limitations of folk-dances 
 that he may choose to employ in his composition. If 
 it suited the dramatic intention of M. Fokine to bring 
 an Arabian dancer on to the point, or to introduce into 
 her work a pure pirouette, it is fairly safe to assume 
 that he would do so, despite the fact that Arabic dan- 
 cing itself knows no such devices. It is to be added 
 that although he should make such amendment to an
 
 THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE RUSSIAN BALLET POSES AND GROUPS. 
 
 Two groups at top from Thamar, M. Bolm and Mme. Karsavina, Mile. 
 Nijinska; MM. Govriloff and Kotchetovski ; M. Seilig and Mile. 
 Stachko, all in Thamar. Figure with peacock, Mme. Astafieva in Le 
 Dieu Bleu. 
 
 (Courtesy of Comoedia Illustre.)
 
 266 THE DANCE 
 
 Arabic dance as known to its own people, his product 
 would express as forcibly the quality of Orientalism as 
 would any dance to be found in Bagdad. The essential 
 difference would be that the composition of M. Fokine 
 would serve the immediate intention of grief, rage, or 
 whatever might be the desired emotion, as well as em- 
 phasising Oriental quality. 
 
 It will be seen that the means of expression above in- 
 dicated relieves the ballet pantomime of any limits of 
 scope. The classic, generally speaking, is by its nature 
 confined to fairy fantasies, the play of elves and spirits, 
 Pierrot and Columbine. All that is dainty it renders to 
 perfection. The new school, on the contrary, can treat 
 with complete dramatic impressiveness all the mystic, 
 epic and sometimes terrible imaginings of the Tartar 
 mind. To its advantage it has among its disciples a full 
 supply of dancing men; lack of them has crippled the 
 classic expressions for many years. The woman doing 
 a boy's part becomes ridiculous as soon as dramatic 
 action departs from the lyrical mood. For this reason, 
 perhaps, both opera ballets and academies of Europe 
 outside of Russia have long lost the custom of staging 
 pantomimes of greater consequence than operatic di- 
 vertissement. Whereas the Marianski Theatre and the 
 Moscow Opera dedicate two nights a week to ballet pan- 
 tomimes exclusively, and have done so for many years. 
 
 The mimetic dramas that have sprung into life with 
 and as part of the new school draw material from leg- 
 ends dark and savage, lyrical and dreamlike. Cleo- 
 patre is a story of love and a cruel caprice of an idle 
 queen of fabled Egypt. Prince Igor presents a back- 
 ground of the ever-threatening Mongol, a myriad sav- 
 age horde encamped outside the eastern gate of Europe.
 
 THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY 
 
 267 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE RUSSIAN BALLET POSES AND GROUPS. 
 Prince Igor (M. Bolm). Thamar (Mile. Tchernicheva). 
 L'Oiseau de Feu (Mme. Karsavina). Thamar (Mile. Hoklova). 
 L'Oiseau de Feu (M. Boulgakow, M. Fokine). 
 
 Le Dieu Bleu (M. Nijinski). 
 (Courtesy of Comoedia Illustre.)
 
 268 THE DANCE 
 
 Scheherazade is tropic passion marching undeviatingly 
 into tragedy. In contrast to these are such ethereal 
 creations as Le Spectre de la Rose, Le Carnaval, Les 
 Sylphides, Le Lac des Cygnes, and Le Pavilion d'Ar- 
 mide. Le Spectre de la Rose, composed to the melting 
 music of Weber's Invitation a la Valse, is a fantasy of 
 a girl who falls asleep in her chair after returning from 
 a ball. In her hand she holds a rose which, in her 
 dreams, turns into a spirit that dances with her, kisses 
 her, and departs. Le Carnaval brings to life and unites 
 in a slight plot a group of such fabled personages as 
 Pierrot, Harlequin, Columbine, Pantalone and Papillon, 
 animated by Schumann music with Russian orchestra- 
 tion. Armide is a figure on a tapestry, who, by magic 
 spell, comes forth in courtly dance with her companion 
 figures and enchants a traveller sleeping in the apart- 
 ment. Le Lac des Cygnes and Les Sylphides are prac- 
 tically plotless reveries in the field of pure beauty; of 
 tissue as unsubstantial as the rainbow. 
 
 Still a third division is exemplified in L'Oiseau de 
 Feu and Le Dieu Bleu. As though to test to the utmost 
 the romantic ballet's range of expression, these last 
 deal with occult Eastern religion, calling for a treatment 
 purely mystic.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 
 
 THE present vogue of dancing is sometimes charac- 
 terised as a fad. As a matter of fact, it is no 
 more than the resumption of a normal exercise. 
 It is not extraordinary that people should wish to dance 
 every day. It was extraordinary that there should 
 have been a period of sixty years in which people did not 
 wish to dance every day. Occidental history recalls few 
 periods when the dance, natural as speech and exalting 
 as music, underwent such neglect as it suffered during 
 the latter half of the nineteenth century. Self-expres- 
 sion was in bad taste. A phantasm of misinterpreted 
 respectability standardised conduct. The resulting cau- 
 tion of movement sterilised the dance, and sterility all 
 but killed it. 
 
 As that which might conveniently be called the Renais- 
 sance of Individuality began to be felt, within the past 
 few years, the endless iteration of one step in each 
 dance became inadequate to interpret feelings. People 
 learned that their own ideas were worth at least a trial ; 
 forms fell automatically. But, no one being at hand to 
 show how dancing might be made an expression, people 
 turned to other recreations. 
 
 Then came the Russian ballet. It showed that dan- 
 cing, more completely perhaps than any other action 
 within mortal scope, is a means of expression of every 
 emotion humanity may feel. It showed, too, how incon- 
 
 269
 
 270 THE DANCE 
 
 ceivably beautiful may be the human body when it is 
 made to conform to the laws of beauty which are iden- 
 tical with the laws of choreography. And so perfect was 
 the artistry of these demigods from out of the North 
 that "difficulty" became a forgotten word. Every man 
 thought that he felt within himself at least a portion of 
 the essence that animated Volinine, Mordkin, Nijinski; 
 every woman knew she had latent some of the magic of 
 Pavlowa, Lopoukowa, or Karsavina. And they were 
 right. Every normal human is in greater or less degree 
 an artist. 
 
 Sudden reactions are usually attended by more vio- 
 lence than discrimination. The appetite for sheer quan- 
 tity is satisfied before the need of restraint is felt. So 
 with the new dancing that gratified hundreds of thou- 
 sands of feet suddenly freed from conventional weights 
 on their movements. The Turkey Trot (name to delight 
 posterity) raced eastward from San Francisco in a form 
 to which the word "dancing" could be applied only by 
 exercise of courtesy. Literally, caricaturists could not 
 caricature it; it made caricatures of its devotees. But 
 they were not concerned with that. . They were in the 
 exaltation of rediscovery ; they were happily, beneficially 
 mad with varied rhythm, marked by free movements of 
 their own bodies. The "trot" was easily learned; the 
 problem became one of finding space in which to dance it, 
 so quickly did its performers fill every floor within hear- 
 ing-distance of a piano. 
 
 The cynical inference that morals or their lack bore 
 any relation to the phenomenon of this dance's rapid 
 spread, is beside the point. Of the original "trot" noth- 
 ing remains but the basic step. The elements that drew 
 denunciation upon it have gone from the abiding-places
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 271 
 
 of politeness; yet its gains in popularity continue un- 
 checked. As though to emphasise its superiority to 
 former mannerisms, it is just now urbanely changing its 
 name : it prefers to be known as the One-Step. And in 
 the desire for a new appellation it is justified, since no 
 history ever so vividly recalled the fable of the ugly 
 duckling. The hypothetical turkey whose trot it once 
 portrayed proves, as it matures, to be a creature closely 
 resembling a peacock. The peacock it was whose des- 
 ignation (Spanish pavo) furnished the name of the old 
 Pavane; and the One-Step, moved by some force more 
 potent than coincidence, is now tending strongly toward 
 the form of that favourite of seventeenth-century courts. 
 
 With the Turkey Trot came out of the West the 
 Bunny Hug, the Grizzly Bear, and perchance the bear- 
 ers of other names reminiscent of the zoo. They 
 treated Europe to a mixture of amusement and irrita- 
 tion, but were not destined to long life on either side of 
 the Atlantic. 
 
 While North America turkey-trotted, the Argentine 
 Tango was delighting and scandalising Paris. A dance 
 of curious history, the Tango. Certain details of its 
 execution justify the assignment of its remote origin 
 to the Gipsies of Spain. Argentina is an attractive 
 market for Spanish dancing; undoubtedly the original 
 Tango, composed of Gipsy steps and movements, was 
 shown in Argentina soon after its first exploitation in 
 Spain, some forty years ago. To change it from a solo 
 for a woman into a dance for couples needed only re- 
 arrangement, plus modification of movements that might 
 not be considered respectable. The latter being a purely 
 relative term, disagreements followed the dance's ap- 
 pearance in Paris Argentinian synonym for Paradise.
 
 272 THE DANCE 
 
 It is to Paris that the prosperous Argentines go for re- 
 freshment; and there they introduced their form of the 
 Tango. Robert, a popular Parisian teacher of social 
 dancing, arranged a version of it to conform to con- 
 servative standards, and its spread followed. 
 
 The Boston Waltz (the latter word is generally omit- 
 ted), born in the period when Sousa's marches and two- 
 steps were omnipresent, existed as little more than a 
 theory until, with the advent of the new dances, it was 
 found to be in tune with the times. With the Tango and 
 One-Step it has come into a family relationship, now 
 borrowing from them for its own embellishment, again 
 lending them a step for the good of their variety. Add 
 to these the Brazilian Maxixe and the Hesitation 
 Waltz, and we complete the list of dances which, at the 
 moment of writing, animate social gatherings on both 
 sides of the Atlantic ; inspire restaurant-keepers to pro- 
 vide dancing floors, hotel managers to give thes dan- 
 sants, with periodical competitions, and instruction if 
 desired ; the dances that are successfully demanding for 
 themselves a new and unobjectionable species of dance- 
 hall, and causing grave scientists to debate over them 
 as symptoms with profound allusions to the so-called 
 "dancing mania" of an earlier century. The extent of 
 the vogue needs neither record nor comment in this 
 place. That which has not been duly noted in the peri- 
 odical press is the fact that a fashion of rhythmic exer- 
 cise is proving to be a well-spring of good spirits and a 
 fountain of youth for millions of men and women. 
 Every one benefits by it. None discontinue it. The 
 only people not seeking new steps for their repertoire are 
 those who have not yet found time to make a beginning, 
 or who have been dismayed by the forbidding number of
 
 THE "WALTZ MINUET" 
 Mr. John Murray Anderson, Miss Genevieve Lyon 
 
 Characteristic style (i) Variation, position of hands (2) Preparation for a 
 turn (3) The mirror figure 
 
 To face page 271
 
 ^ 
 
 o *2 
 
 a i- 
 
 P I 
 I ^ 
 
 o ^ 
 
 U
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 273 
 
 new names, both of steps and of dances. For their bene- 
 fit, it is in order to make a digression at this point. 
 
 Let it be emphatically understood that the dances 
 above enumerated are the only ones that have any pres- 
 ent significance in French, English or American ball- 
 rooms. So-called "new" dances, bearing names of sum- 
 mer and winter resorts, heroines and what-not, are pre- 
 sented in endless succession; but analysis always shows 
 their almost complete lack of individuality. Their claim 
 to recognition regularly consists of a minor variation of 
 a familiar bit of one of the Waltzes, the Tango, or the 
 One-Step. Around this nucleus are gathered steps 
 taken from the other dances directly ; and the "composi- 
 tion" is supposed to contribute publicity to some pro- 
 gressive teacher or performer. At the present moment 
 a "Spanish" something-or-other is claiming attention, 
 on grounds which, examined closely, consist in a draw- 
 ing of one foot up to the other, with a slight accompany- 
 ing body movement. Spanish dancing does use this 
 movement, it is true. So does the One-Step; the Tur- 
 key Trot had it on its birthday. Examples of such ef- 
 forts might be multiplied, but one is sufficient to show 
 the needlessness of concern over strange and unproved 
 titles. 
 
 The steps and figures hereinafter described are stand- 
 ard. The list cannot be complete, since the Tango alone 
 has figures to a number variously estimated at from 
 about fifty to more than a hundred; nor is it desirable 
 that it should be. Many of those figures are wholly 
 alien to the true Tango character, contribute nothing 
 of beauty or interest, and might well be allowed to perish. 
 Others are of such slight variation from basic forms 
 that they can be learned in a moment by any one familiar
 
 274 TH E DANCE 
 
 with the principles. Embellishments are easily added, 
 once the structure is solidly built. 
 
 The instruction that follows was prepared under the 
 careful supervision of a teacher whose good taste is un- 
 questionable and whose broad familiarity with dan- 
 cing in all its aspects qualifies him to foresee and esti- 
 mate tendencies with extraordinary precision: Mr. 
 John Murray Anderson, previously introduced in these 
 pages in connection with the old court dances. The 
 photographs illustrating the text were made from the 
 work of Mr. Anderson with his partner, Miss Genevieve 
 Lyon; collective possessors of a favourable and grow- 
 ing popularity as performers. These photographs may 
 be studied with full reliance upon their value as guides 
 to the style of each of the dances described. 
 
 To the beginner, the diagrams and text will serve as a 
 grammar, by whose guidance the steps can be put into 
 practice. Familiarity will accustom the limbs and body 
 to the mechanism of the steps, and the mirror will go far 
 in revealing the faults inseparable from any new under- 
 taking that requires skill. At that point the photo- 
 graphs have their special value. 
 
 As soon as the student is reasonably conversant with 
 his grammar, he should begin to avail himself of oppor- 
 tunities to put his knowledge to practical use. Also, if 
 he wishes to dance with distinguished grace and style, he 
 should put himself for a term under the eye of a capable 
 teacher. Ambitious professional performers, possessed 
 of the knowledge and skill derived from years of concen- 
 trated study of their art, periodically submit themselves 
 to rigourous coaching. The amateur, though measured 
 by much less exacting standards, has commensurately
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 275 
 
 less preliminary training on which he may depend to give 
 him the qualities that make for graceful execution. No 
 dancer can see his own work truly. All need at least the 
 occasional oversight of a skilled eye ; and a teacher's ex- 
 perience in detecting the causes of imperfections enables 
 him to cure them in a minimum of time. 
 
 The figures (enchainement) composing the new 
 dances have no set order of performance ; their sequence 
 is at caprice, usually suggested by the music. Nor is 
 there yet any indication that their increasing number has 
 reached its limit. Every one is at liberty to test his 
 powers of invention and composition, to experiment 
 with the adaptation of steps of one dance into another, 
 and, in general, to give play to his individuality. But, 
 to hasten the uniform acceptance of a certain set of fig- 
 ures as a standard basis of each dance, it would be best 
 to postpone indulgence in fantasies until after the sub- 
 joined figures have been learned. At present the pro- 
 gress of the Tango, in particular, is hampered by the fact 
 that hardly two people in the same ballroom will be found 
 in agreement as to what steps constitute that dance. 
 And, as noted before, a preliminary learning of the fun- 
 damentals will enable him who dances to decide intel- 
 ligently what new steps may be added to a dance appro- 
 priately, and what are out of harmony with that 
 dance's character. (The discussion of theme, in the 
 chapter on ballet technique, deals with composition of 
 steps.) 
 
 Explicit verbal description of steps is possible only 
 by use of the accepted designations of positions of the 
 feet. If they do not impress themselves on the memory 
 clearly, the reader should by all means copy the diagram
 
 276 THE DANCE 
 
 on a separate slip, and keep it before him as he experi- 
 ments with the translation of text and diagram into 
 practice of the steps. 
 
 V 
 
 JO- 
 
 It will be seen that the designations of positions differ 
 from those of the ballet in the respect that the feet "toe 
 out" at an angle of 45 to an imaginary line of advance, 
 instead of the 90 prescribed by the classic ballet. Modi- 
 fications of the simple positions, such, for instance, as 
 anterior or posterior position of either foot, open or 
 closed position, etc., will explain themselves readily. 
 
 The relative positions of partners are ( i ) closed posi- 
 tion, (2) side position, and (3) open position. Closed 
 position is that of the individuals facing each other, 
 shoulders parallel, each looking over the other's left 
 shoulder, the man's left hand holding the woman's right 
 hand, and his right hand on her back. Side position 
 moves the figures (holding each other practically as be- 
 fore), each to his left or each to his right, far enough 
 to take each away from in front of the other. Coming 
 toward the spectator, the couple in side position shows 
 the width of both bodies. Open position places the man 
 and the woman side by side, facing in the same direc- 
 tion, joined by his hand on her waist, or by holding 
 hands. 
 
 Necessary preliminaries disposed of, we are ready to
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 277 
 
 proceed with the actual mechanism of the dances, of 
 which the first to be considered is 
 
 THE ONE-STEP 
 
 1. THE CASTLE WALK (invented and introduced by 
 Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Castle). This is a walking step 
 of direct advance and retreat, not used to move to the 
 side. The couple are in closed position, the woman, 
 therefore, stepping backward as the man steps forward, 
 and vice versa. The advancing foot is planted in fourth 
 position, the knee straight, the toe down so that the ball 
 of the foot strikes the floor first. The walk presents an 
 appearance of strutting, although the shoulders are held 
 level, and the body firm; a sharp twist that punctuates 
 each step is effected by means of pivoting on the support- 
 ing foot. The shoulder and hip movements that origi- 
 nally characterised the "trot" are no longer practiced. 
 
 In all the following floor-plan diagrams, the right 
 foot is indicated by solid black, the left foot by outline. 
 
 2. THE TURN is a walking step, pivoting on one foot 
 to change direction. 
 
 The right foot comes from the preceding step to the 
 place of starting; while it makes two successive long 
 steps (i, 2) the left foot turns "on its place." The 
 turn's completion brings the right foot into anterior 
 fourth position. The woman's steps are the converse of 
 the man's, her left foot making the long steps, while her
 
 278 THE DANCE 
 
 right foot turns on its place. The turn gains smooth- 
 ness by means of allowing the right knees to touch each 
 other lightly. , 
 
 3. THE DIP. Starting with (say) the right foot in 
 posterior fourth position : during the first beat, sink ( for 
 form see photograph) ; on the second beat, rise, trans- 
 ferring the weight to the left (advanced) foot, gliding 
 the right foot up to third position, on arriving at which 
 it instantly receives the weight again, if the dip is to be 
 repeated. In that case the left foot again glides to an- 
 terior fourth position, and the step is effected as before. 
 Frequently several dips are made in succession. They 
 often succeed a turn, the latter's finish leaving the feet 
 in appropriate (fourth) position for the purpose. 
 
 The dip is executed in any direction, with the perform- 
 ers in any position of the couple. It occurs in other 
 dances, but its technique is always the same. 
 
 4. THE GRAPE-VINE is an alternation of second and 
 fourth positions of the feet ; one foot travelling sidewise 
 on a straight line, the other foot going from anterior 
 
 M**i- 
 
 to posterior fourth position, and vice versa. The step 
 travels to the woman's right (the man's left), without 
 turning. 
 
 The man's steps are the converse of the woman's, he
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 279 
 
 starting with his left foot. The step is executed in 
 closed position of the couple, and is usually performed 
 several times in succession. 
 
 The arrival of the feet in fourth position (i. e., the 
 steps marked "2" in the diagram) is usually punctuated 
 with a slight dip. 
 
 5. THE ONE-STEP EIGHT, so called from the num- 
 ber of beats it occupies, is distinct from the Tango 
 Huit, described later, which describes a figure 8 on the 
 floor. The eight of the One-Step is a simple walk, with 
 turn. 
 
 .A 4 
 
 The man's steps are the converse of the woman's ; she 
 pivots on her right foot, he on his left foot. Executed 
 in closed position of the couple. 
 
 6. THE SQUARE, originally a Tango figure, is 
 equally effective in the One-Step. From posterior third 
 
 position, the right foot steps to (i) anterior fourth po- 
 sition; left foot glides to (2) second position; right 
 foot glides into (3) first position; left foot steps back
 
 280 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 to (4) posterior fourth position; right foot steps to (5) 
 anterior third position. It is usually repeated several 
 times. Executed in closed position of the couple. 
 
 Execution of the figure occupies two measures of mu- 
 sic; steps done in half-time are indicated by the word 
 "and," instead of a number. The learner will find it 
 useful to chant the count aloud, avoiding stress on the 
 half-count of "and." 
 
 Let it be understood that the word "and," used in 
 counting, has the above significance in descriptions to 
 come. 
 
 7. A figure whose execution occupies three measures. 
 The steps of the first bar are quick, those of the sec- 
 ond slower; the difference of speed should be empha- 
 sised. 
 
 First bar : As the left foot crosses over to "3," it will 
 be noted that the next placement of the right foot is 
 marked "and"; this is done because the time occupied 
 by the little movement is only one-half beat. In practice 
 the steps are counted, one, two, three and four. The left 
 foot's step marked "4" is a coupe; as the foot is planted, 
 it displaces the -right foot ; which takes a position ex- 
 tended to the rear, raised from the floor.
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 281 
 
 Second bar: The space between the last place of the 
 right foot in the first bar and its place in "i" in the 
 second bar, does not represent proportionate progress 
 across the floor; the steps of the three bars are dia- 
 grammed consecutively, to avoid the confusion of super- 
 imposed lines. On count "i" of the second bar, advance 
 the right foot from its raised posterior position to an- 
 terior fifth position. Fill in the count of "2" with a 
 slow advance of the left foot to fourth position, which 
 it reaches on count "3"; upon which it receives the 
 weight, the right foot simultaneously being raised from 
 the floor in posterior fourth position on count "4." 
 
 Third bar: On "i," plant the right foot in posterior 
 fourth position and slowly sink the weight back on it; 
 on "2," glide the left foot back slowly (3) to reach 
 third position on count "4." 
 
 The figure is executed in open position of the couple. 
 Its manner is smooth, without dips. It is usually re- 
 peated several times in succession. 
 
 8. THE MURRAY ANDERSON TURN: a turn en ara- 
 
 besque. The man crosses the right foot in front of the 
 left, and transfers his weight to it (i. e., the right foot).
 
 282 THE DANCE 
 
 Simultaneously the woman, holding his hand in her hand 
 (open position of couple), begins a walk around a circle 
 of which the man's right foot is the centre. As his legs 
 "unwind," he rises to the ball of the right foot, extend- 
 ing the left leg easily to the rear (see arabesque, chapter 
 on ballet technique) and raising the left foot from the 
 floor. 
 
 The woman's walking movement should be smooth 
 rather than accented. After repeating the turns ad lib.. 
 it is found that the One-Step Eight follows harmoniously 
 after the turn. 
 
 9. A cross-over with a woman's turn. This figure 
 looks complicated in the diagram and in performance. 
 As a matter of fact, it is not especially difficult. 
 
 The diagram represents the cross-over, which pre- 
 cedes the turn. The turn is described in words. 
 
 In preparation for the cross-over, the couple changes 
 from closed to side position, the man on the woman's left. 
 The man's steps are the converse of the woman's ; and his 
 travel back and forth counters hers, so that the two pass 
 and repass in the side position of the couple, he is now 
 on the her left side, now on her right, and so on. 
 
 Keeping track of the woman's steps on the diagram, 
 read the man's steps one by one, correlating them with 
 the woman's.
 
 DEVELOPMENT OF AN ARCH "A LA PIROUETTE" 
 
 Cross to right (i) Cross to left (2) 
 
 Start of turn (3) 
 
 To face page
 
 THE "ONE-STEP" 
 The Kitchen Sink ; position of couple (i, 2) 
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE " 
 Characteristic position of advanced foot (3) 
 
 To face page
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 283 
 
 After taking side position on the woman's left, the 
 man takes two walking steps forward, right, left; cross- 
 ing the right foot in front of the left, he changes to the 
 woman's right side. Still walking forward, right, left, 
 two steps bring him to the end of the third measure. 
 Finish in first position of the feet. 
 
 Note : In the work of both man and woman, the turn 
 in the first two measures, and the half-turn in the third, 
 involve only simple walking steps, plus a pivot to change 
 direction. The interaction of arms suggests itself in 
 practice. 
 
 The fourth bar marks the woman's turn or pirouette, 
 as it is often and usually mistakenly called. The man's 
 left hand holding the woman's right hand, the woman 
 executes a turn a real pirouette (q. v.) is permissible 
 under the man's raised left arm, finishing in closed 
 position of the couple. (See photographs.) The turn 
 under ttoe arm is sometimes called the arch a la pirouette. 
 
 10. A woman's turn, varying the preceding, with 
 which it is identical up to the end of the second bar. 
 
 Having completed the turn occupying the first and 
 second bars, the woman lets go her partner's hand and 
 walks around behind him, completing the circuit in four 
 steps. These must be measured so that the fourth step 
 brings her into readiness to go into closed position of 
 the couple; and timed so that, after going into closed 
 position, the couple has neither to wait nor to hurry 
 in order to move with the next beat. 
 
 During the walk around, the woman lightly glides 
 her left hand around the man's neck. The man re- 
 mains stationary, his left arm extended horizontally 
 before him. The woman's right hand takes the man's 
 left hand as she comes into closed position.
 
 284 THE DANCE 
 
 The foregoing movements of the One-step must be 
 executed not only with fine regard to rhythm, but also 
 to continuity. If they are not made to flow one into 
 another, the effect is jerky and uncertain-looking. 
 
 THE BOSTON 
 
 The distinguishing step-combination of this very at- 
 tractive dance is complete in one measure. Its essence 
 is in a certain effect of syncopation, secured by keeping 
 the weight on the same foot through two successive 
 beats contrary to the practice of transferring the 
 weight with each beat, as in the old Waltz. Another pe- 
 culiarity of the Boston is the carriage of the weight 
 counter to the line of direction of travel, giving an ef- 
 fect of holding back. The dance is performed with de- 
 liberation; its execution aims at a rather grand style. 
 
 The dip characteristic of and named for the Boston 
 is, in execution, the same as the dip described in con- 
 nection with the One-Step (see photographs). The 
 management of a sequence of dips as they occur in the 
 Boston is, however, a matter for special attention, which 
 will be given it in its place. 
 
 i. The essential step: 
 
 C 
 
 
 On count "i," the entire weight is thrown upon the 
 right foot ; and there it continues through the remainder 
 of the bar. On count "2," swing the left foot forward 
 into anterior fourth position, straightening the left 
 knee, touching the floor with the point, as far forward 
 as is possible without taking any of the weight off the
 
 THE WALTZ 
 
 A position of the couple in the Waltz Minuet (i) Correct position of man's 
 
 hand on woman's back (2) A position also assumed 
 
 in the One-Step Eight (3) A Dip (4) 
 
 To face page 184
 
 THE WALTZ 
 Showing correct positions 
 
 Of couple (i) Of feet, in short steps (2) Of feet, in Dip (3) Another view of 
 
 the Dip (4) 
 
 To face page z8?
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 285 
 
 right foot; meanwhile the right foot rises to the ball. 
 On count "3," lower the heel of the right foot to the 
 floor. 
 
 Turn by pivoting on the supporting foot, continuing 
 to touch the point of the free foot to the floor. 
 
 In the bar that follows, the left foot takes the first 
 step, as before. To accomplish this the weight must 
 be kept on the right foot. 
 
 2. The step backward is the converse of the fore- 
 going. The diagram indicates, as start, the position 
 in which the feet were left by the preceding step. 
 
 V 
 ^. . 
 
 OT^Ui " t SUAJU* >v flf 
 
 * 
 
 For the sake of simplicity, the diagrams indicate a 
 straight advance-and-retreat movement. It will be un- 
 derstood that, in practice, this is varied to effect turns, 
 i. e., by pivoting on the supporting foot. 
 
 The execution above indicated applies to the Long 
 Boston. In the Short Boston each beat is or was 
 made the equivalent of two counts for the feet. The 
 resulting jerkiness and lack of sweep excluded the Short 
 Boston from any lasting popularity. 
 
 3. The BOSTON DIP is, in practice, a series of three 
 successive dips, executed in reverse turning movement. 
 Each of the three occupies a whole measure, and a fourth 
 measure is used in returning to the regular Boston walk- 
 ing step. 
 
 In putting the step into practice from the diagram, 
 the student will greatly simplify the process by chanting 
 the count: right,' left, right; left/ right, left; right/
 
 286 
 
 THE DANCE 
 
 left, right, etc., accented as indicated, on the first beat 
 of each measure. Because the foot designated by the 
 accented count receives the weight ; and the more nearly 
 the disposal of the weight can be made to take care of 
 itself, the more attention the student has for other de- 
 tails. 
 
 <f)jond /YnbcuLuAJf 
 
 
 ** 
 
 The dip begins on the first beat, completing the re- 
 covery on the third. It always is made with the right 
 foot in posterior position. In fact, the right foot does 
 not get out of posterior position. Now, on measures 
 where the left foot takes the first count, as in the first 
 measure (above diagram) this is easy. But in alter- 
 nate measures the right foot takes the first beat, and 
 just here begins confusion from which few find any es- 
 cape except 'by means of practice. Perhaps owing to 
 a rhythm that the dip has in common with the old 
 Walts, the right foot has a tendency to go, in its turn, 
 into the anterior position. But it must be kept back. 
 It must be kept, broadly speaking, on the outer of two 
 curving paths, of which the left travels the inner. Note 
 the appearance of this on the diagram showing turns. 
 
 If the learner succeeds, at this point, in performing
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 287 
 
 the dip to the satisfaction of a candid and intelligent 
 critic, let him by all means proceed to the next section, 
 praising Allah for the gift of facility. If not, let him 
 be cheered by the fact that it is as difficult for any one 
 else as for himself. A semblance of it is easily acquired. 
 To insure reality, return to the figure on page 286. 
 
 Observe that in bars where the right foot takes the 
 first count (the even-numbered measures, beginning 
 with the second) the right foot does not step out in ad- 
 vance of the left foot. Instead, it sweeps out to the 
 side; the movement is accompanied by pivoting on the 
 left foot. A short step of the left foot to place "2" marks 
 the cadence and preserves its anterior fourth position. 
 On the other hand, in measures where the left foot takes 
 the first count, it keeps its anterior position almost auto- 
 matically. 
 
 
 As an added expression of the difference of treatment 
 between the alternate measures, it is here reduced to the 
 form of a straight advance. 
 
 The Boston Dip carries with it the possibility of beauty 
 commensurate with its difficulty. On the other hand, its 
 good execution is none too common. The exhilaration 
 that attends its performance appears, sometimes, to flat- 
 ter the performer into a belief that his style is as agree- 
 able as his sensation. It is, therefore, more than others, 
 a step in which every one should submit his execution 
 to rigourous and intelligent criticism. 
 
 2, 
 *?
 
 288 THE DANCE 
 
 4. An embellishing enchainement , complete in six 
 measures, of which each is filled by one step. 
 
 Until the "6" count, the figure represents a straight 
 advance and retreat. The diagram departs slightly 
 from that form in order to avoid the confusion of super- 
 imposed lines. 
 
 As an aid, count as follows: Step/ Dip/ Point'-dip, 
 Step/ Dip/ Turn/ Turn in the regular direction, not 
 in reverse ; and accompany the turn also with a dip. 
 
 In the third measure, the left foot recedes quickly 
 from its anterior position (where it points) to its pos- 
 terior position. In the third, fourth and fifth measures, 
 note that the left foot makes three successive move- 
 ments. 
 
 5. Another embellishment. Without turns, its the- 
 ory is as follows: 
 
 l\ 
 
 Each count represents one measure. 
 With turns included, the figure works out as follows 
 (for instance) :
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 289 
 
 
 The couple is in closed position. The above diagrams 
 represent the man's steps ; the woman's are the converse. 
 Repeat at will. 
 
 THE HESITATION WALTZ 
 
 This new evolution preserves all the charm of the 
 old-fashioned Waltz, and by means of certain embellish- 
 ments has given it new life and interest. 
 
 i. Its THEME is readily understood by means of a dia- 
 gram: 
 
 This key step is complete in two measures. It will be 
 noted that the first measure is devoted to a walking 
 step. 
 
 Elevation: the "i" beat in the second bar is accom- 
 panied by a slight dip. Toward the last of the second 
 bar the dancers slowly draw themselves up until, on 
 "3," they are raised to the ball of the supporting foot. 
 The man's right leg, as it draws the right foot up to 
 place "3," is distinctly relaxed. 
 
 Note, in the second bar, that the right foot continues 
 to move during the second beat.
 
 290 THE DANCE 
 
 The step is performed in either open or closed posi- 
 tion of the couple. If the former, the woman's steps 
 are identical with the man's; if the latter, the converse. 
 If in open position, the travel is forward. 
 
 To turn in the regular direction, the step indicated in 
 the second measure is in use. 
 
 2. THE REVERSE is effected by an alternation of Bos- 
 ton Dips with an equal number of measures of old-fash- 
 ioned Waltz (see Boston Dip). Dip in measures where 
 the right foot is in posterior position without aid of a 
 shortened step or of a left-foot pivot; in other words, 
 measures in which the right foot is forced into posterior 
 position. 
 
 3. A variation of the theme : 
 
 
 For convenience, count the time: one, two, three, 
 pause. On the word "pause," throw the weight strongly 
 on to the left foot, the right remaining easily in second 
 position with the edge of the sole resting on the 
 floor. 
 
 In repeating, move at right angles to the direction 
 followed in the preceding measure. The man's direc- 
 tion turns toward his left, the woman's toward her right. 
 
 4. The LYON CHASSE : an effective figure in open po- 
 sition of the couple. Complete in one measure; advan- 
 tageously repeated several times.
 
 THE "TANGO" 
 Mr. Anderson and Miss Lvon 
 
 Characteristic style (i, 2, 4) Woman circles man (3)
 
 THE "TANGO" 
 Characteristic style 
 
 To face page 191
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 291 
 
 Count 0W, ta;0 and 
 
 Description of the man's steps: Advance right foot 
 to fourth position, where it receives the weight ( I ) ; 
 cross left foot over in front of right foot, pivoting on 
 the latter with the swing of the left foot, so that the left 
 foot when planted is in anterior fourth position (2) ; 
 cross right foot behind left (and) step out with left 
 foot in the direction of starting. The travel effected 
 is a straight advance. 
 
 The woman's steps are the converse of the man's, 
 bringing the couple face to face on "2." 
 
 THE ARGENTINE TANGO 
 
 To some people the Tango seems to be an object of 
 suspicion. In a previous incarnation, three or four 
 years ago, it did, in all likelihood, fall short of the re- 
 quirements for acceptance in Anglo-Saxon ballrooms. 
 Yet, notwithstanding the correction of its shortcomings, 
 or the transformation of them into virtues, there lin- 
 gers a semifashion of nagging at it. Of those volun- 
 teers for its reformation who make specific complaints, 
 no two factions have a point of belief in common; the 
 factions are numerous, and their observations not very 
 logical. Indeed, it would be illuminating as well as en- 
 tertaining if dictagraphic reports could be collected, of 
 all the discussions the Tango has inspired since its in-
 
 292 THE DANCE 
 
 troduction in Paris. Such reports should be given to 
 one of the serious-minded critics of the dance for com- 
 pilation, with his own comments. "The movements em- 
 ployed in the Tango, soberly viewed as a measure of 
 respectability" some such title as that the treatise 
 should have, to be representative of a species of mis- 
 giving of which expression has not wholly subsided. 
 
 It is time that the ghost should be laid, since the Tango 
 is now, and has been for a year or more, a beautiful and 
 irreproachable dance assuming, of course, its perform- 
 ance in the clean spirit usually found in good society. 
 Any dance can be made suggestive or offensive. So 
 can walking. But that is no reflection on the intrinsic 
 quality of either dance or walk. The measure of the 
 beauty or character of a dance is to be found in the move- 
 ments which, by common acceptance, that dance pre- 
 scribes ; a rendering that departs from those movements 
 fails to measure those attributes, in so far as it violates 
 the accepted form. Now, a couple of specimens of the 
 movements that bring criticism upon the Tango. 
 
 Of its characteristics, one is a manner of touching 
 the point to the floor, the foot pointing straight for- 
 ward; followed by a quick raise of the foot, the raise 
 accompanied by a turn outward of the heel. The ef- 
 fect is, undoubtedly, exotic; that is part of its charm. 
 It is criticised, however, on grounds of respectability! 
 
 One more movement carries this offending step to 
 the attention of a wholly different set of censors. These 
 latter have found no fault with the touch of the foot 
 to the floor in (say) second position, and its raise in the 
 indicated manner. But now, the same foot moves back 
 to fourth position. Just that. The same old fourth 
 position, without innovation or adornment. And there-
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 293 
 
 upon, with all seeming earnestness, the second informal 
 committee of censors protests on grounds of respecta- 
 bility! Why? Is it because, in coming to that fourth 
 position, two steps were taken in succession by the same 
 foot? No, that is not it; it seems that fourth position 
 is at fault, per se. 
 
 The character of the objections suggests the existence 
 of an apprehension that an unqualified acceptance of the 
 Tango would be risque. There is no other explanation 
 for the hostility, under present conditions of the dance. 
 Yet, idle as are the objections, they cannot be quite over- 
 looked. A certain number of vacillators are listening 
 now to one voice, to another to-morrow : however great 
 or small their influence, in ratio to its strength it will 
 tend to denature a product that now has a flavour to 
 interest discerning taste, yet hardly to imperil the weak- 
 headed. 
 
 Dropping the above issue, the Tango's trick of the 
 foot continues to be interesting; this time in relation to 
 the interest of character. The sharp in-twist of the foot 
 is one of the points of individuality both of the Tango 
 and the dance of the Arab. Now, probable family re- 
 lationship puts the Tango under no obligation to family 
 traits, for the sake of family dignity; that is beside the 
 point. But, in its own interest, the Tango would do 
 well to take a careful look at the work of the Arab, to 
 see that it is deriving equal profit from the same re- 
 sources. Which it is not. By current usage (in the 
 United States at least) the Tango makes a practice of 
 toeing forward, or even in, to an extent that is not only 
 monotonous, but which robs the quick in-turn device of 
 the value of surprise. The Arab woman, on the other 
 hand, places her feet at a natural angle; moreover, she
 
 294 THE DANCE 
 
 precedes the sharp turn-in with an outward turn suf- 
 ficiently marked to give the former a telling contrast. 
 The same is true of the Flamenco dances in Spain. 
 Their superior use of the trick justifies attention on the 
 part of those under whose influence the new dance is de- 
 termining its final form. 
 
 In point of merit, the Tango measures up to a stand- 
 ard which, though by no means a true measure of qual- 
 ity, has a certain practical value: it is sufficiently pic- 
 turesque to cover the faults of a half-good dancer. Con- 
 versely, as a vehicle for the equilibrium and style that 
 unite in a very good dancer, it is not excelled by any 
 social dance of modern times. 
 
 It should be noted that the most suitable music is 
 among the compositions of the Argentines themselves. 
 
 i. THE TANGO WALK (Spanish, el Paseo; French, 
 le Promenade) is used as a variety to figures. The mari 
 moves forward, starting with the left foot, the woman 
 backward. The step brings the advancing foot to posi- 
 tion squarely in front of the supporting foot, both (by 
 the present mode) pointed straight forward. The full 
 weight is transferred to the advanced foot as soon as 
 possible, the knee of the leg in posterior position 
 promptly relaxed, the posterior foot resting, for a mo- 
 ment, lightly on the point. The step in advance is made 
 with a light gliding movement. 
 
 In turning, follow the reverse direction invariably. 
 
 Technique of the step backward : Start the foot with 
 a glide, letting it rise from the floor toward the end of 
 the step, meanwhile toeing inward; plant the foot 
 squarely to the rear of the supporting foot. At the 
 moment of placing the retreating foot, the knee of the 
 advanced leg is relaxed, and the advanced foot is turned
 
 THE "TANGO" 
 
 The two upper pictures represent phases of the "Scissors" figure. The two lower 
 show characteristic style of the "Tango" 
 
 To face page 294
 
 
 THE "TANGO" 
 
 The Reverse (semi-open position) (i) The regular Tango walking step (2) 
 [i and 2 apply also to the One-step Eight] Style of movement (3) Posi- 
 tion of hands sometimes assumed to emphasize the end of a phrase (4) 
 
 To face page 195
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 295 
 
 inward, the heel remaining placed as a pivot. The same 
 directions apply to man and woman. 
 2. THE CORTE. 
 
 Starting in first position : Put the weight on the right 
 foot ( I ) ; step forward with the left foot, quickly bring- 
 ing the right up to third position, both steps accom- 
 plished on (2) ; bring the left foot back to fifth position, 
 rise on balls of feet (3), drop heels to floor with plie 
 of knees (4). 
 
 The second measure finds the right foot in anterior 
 fifth position. The first beat brings it back to posterior 
 fifth position and throws the weight upon it. Continue 
 same as first measure. 
 
 3. THE SCISSORS. (Spanish, las Tijeras; French, 
 les Ciseaux.) 
 
 wr 
 
 SXaAf 
 
 The "i" count is marked by a touch-and-turn of the 
 foot ; touch the point to the floor, and instantly raise it, 
 sharply, throwing the heel out; set foot on place "2." 
 
 With the turn of the foot, allow the hips (but not the
 
 296 THE DANCE 
 
 shoulders) to turn also in such manner as to bring the 
 right foot, for the moment, into posterior fourth posi- 
 tion. This applies to beat "i." "la" represents the 
 pointing of right and left foot respectively. 
 A variation of the same is effected as follows : 
 
 Turning may be accomplished by (a) the man cross- 
 ing the right foot over the left, and (b) the woman 
 "unwinding" him by moving around him executing scis- 
 sors steps, turning to her right. Done in closed position 
 of the couple. 
 
 4. THE MEDIA LUNA (French, la Demi-lune). 
 
 Start in first position. Right foot to anterior fourth 
 position (i); left foot to second position (and) right 
 foot glided to first position (2). Left foot to posterior 
 fourth position (3) ; right foot to second position (and) 
 left foot to first position (4). 
 
 The place and position of start and finish are identical. 
 
 5. THE EIGHT (Spanish, el Ocho; French, le Huit). 
 
 Start in first position. Cross right foot in front of 
 left (i); bring left foot to first position (and) right
 
 THE "TANGO" 
 The Corte (i) Characteristic style (2) A variation (3) Start of a turn (4) 
 
 To face page 296
 
 A "TANGO" STEP 
 
 Man's foot displaces woman's (i) Woman's foot displaces man's (2) Each 
 displaces the other's foot (3) 
 
 To face page wfl
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 297 
 
 foot to posterior fourth position (2) ; cross left foot over 
 in front of right (3), right foot to first position (and) 
 left foot forward to fourth position. 
 
 Executed either in open or closed position of the 
 couple. In the latter, the woman's steps are the con- 
 verse of the above. In open position the same steps are 
 used by both partners; their travel describing a zigzag 
 figure. 
 
 6. A WALTZ TURN. To change from one figure to 
 another, the couple may make several turns in reverse 
 direction, by means of Waltz step. 
 
 V 
 
 \\ 
 
 pivot 
 
 Idvance en L. 
 
 Left, /u 
 ' 
 
 luqht 
 
 . 
 
 Viink 
 
 Z 
 
 First measure: With the rise on the left foot, the 
 right foot would best be considered, for simplicity's sake, 
 as leaving the floor, and remaining in the air until "i" 
 of the second measure. 
 
 Second measure : On "i," the weight goes back upon
 
 298 THE DANCE 
 
 the right foot; consider the left foot in the air, until 
 "i" of the third measure. 
 
 Third measure: Same as first measure. 
 
 Fourth measure : Cross right foot over left foot and 
 simultaneously rise ( I ) ; hold the position until "2." 
 Sink with sufficient plie to give softness of movement. 
 Pick up the right foot smartly at the end of the last 
 measure in which this step is used. 
 
 In character with the Walts, the above movements are 
 made to flow together in execution. But a thorough 
 grasp of their sequence must be acquired primarily. 
 
 The turn is used to separate enchainements , in the 
 manner of the reverse of the Hesitation Waltz, to which 
 it is analogous in structure. 
 
 7. An easy step. 
 
 \3 
 
 
 
 On "3," bend the right knee, at the same time slightly 
 raising the left foot from the floor (posterior fourth 
 position). On "4," pick up left foot sharply. 
 
 In execution, pivot on supporting foot, to turn in reg- 
 ular direction.
 
 A NORTH AMERICAN FIGURE IN THE "TANGO" 
 Preparation (i) After the twist (2) Finishing with a Dip (3) 
 
 To face page 198
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 299 
 
 As the right foot does its touch-and-turn, incline the 
 body away from if; and vice versa. Note same as a 
 Tango principle. 
 
 8. The same, to the rear. 
 
 In this and the preceding figure, "2" indicates 
 the Tango's manner of touching the point to the floor and 
 quickly raising the foot, at the same time turning the 
 heel out sharply. This (a) bends the knee and (b) 
 throws the hip slightly forward. Give reasonable play 
 to both tendencies. 
 
 9. A North American figure, used principally by ex- 
 hibition dancers. 
 
 1 kvuJL i 
 
 Start in first position. Advance left foot to fourth 
 position, stamp ( i ) ; advance right foot to fourth posi-
 
 300 THE DANCE 
 
 tion, keeping it in the air (2) ; a rond de jambe half- 
 turn, very fast, pivoting on left foot, to bring right foot 
 to anterior fourth position (3) ; very low dip or kneel 
 
 (4). 
 
 Exhibition dancers frequently adorn the rond de 
 jambe with a little circle (from the knee as pivot) de- 
 scribed by the foot, executed during and without inter- 
 rupting the big sweep. The little movement adds daz- 
 zle to the rapidly executed big movement. 
 
 Performed in open position of the couple. The half- 
 turn brings them about-face, facing each other in the 
 course of turning. (See photographs.) 
 
 10. EL VOLTEO (the Whirl) is the name of a figure of 
 which descriptions come from Paris. The mechanism 
 of the step is identical with that of the grapevine of the 
 One-Step. 
 
 THE BRAZILIAN MAXIXE 
 
 This is, virtually, a revival of the Two-Step, plus cer- 
 tain Tango steps and enchainements. Instead of the 
 Tango's touch-and-turn-in of the foot, it employs a de- 
 vice of resting the heel on the floor, the foot pointed 
 upward, while the body assumes a bent-over posture not 
 particularly attractive. 
 
 ..A. 
 
 :-- 
 X 
 
 THE FIRST STEP.
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 301 
 
 As in other present-day dances, usage requires no set 
 sequence of figures. 
 
 1. Execute the first measure with the body somewhat 
 supple, and a good deal of rise and sink in the steps. 
 The effect may be varied by inclining the body rather 
 sinuously from side to side. 
 
 2. A FLYING TWO-STEP: a two-step in which the 
 advanced foot points upward, touching the heel to the 
 floor except on turns. Continue as many measures 
 without turning as is found interesting; eight are not 
 too many. 
 
 <L: 
 
 ANOTHER STEP. 
 
 3. Man's steps: Starting in first position, advance 
 right foot to fourth position ( i ) ; glide left foot to 
 second position (2) ; glide right foot to posterior third 
 position (3) ; carry left foot to posterior fourth posi- 
 tion, pause en attitude, and, plant it, transferring weight 
 to it and raising right (advanced) foot, point down (4). 
 
 Woman's steps: Advance left foot to posterior 
 fourth position ( i ) ; glide right foot to second position 
 (2) ; glide left foot to posterior third position (3) ; plant 
 right foot in anterior fourth position and raise the left 
 foot from the floor (4). During the pause on "4," 
 the woman leans slightly forward. 
 
 Until the third beat, her steps are the converse of the
 
 302 THE DANCE 
 
 man's. Then, it will be noted, her position becomes the 
 same as the man's: each, through a half-beat, is sup- 
 ported on the right foot, the left extended back en atti- 
 tude. The count of "4" again finds the couple in con- 
 verse positions, the man's right foot being pointed for- 
 ward while the woman's is extended back. 
 
 4. AN ARCH A LA PIROUETTE. Holding his partner's 
 right hand in his left hand, the man executes four polka- 
 steps forward; while the woman, by means of four 
 polka-steps, makes a complete turn toward her left. The 
 engaged hands are raised to allow her to pass under 
 the arms. 
 
 5. Miscellaneous. The foregoing may be varied with 
 slow walking steps, one to each measure ; running steps, 
 two to each measure; and polka-steps, with a dip on 
 the first beat. 
 
 Owing partly to its facility, the Maxixe is likely to be 
 remembered as of the group whose spread over the 
 Occident has represented a striking social phenomenon. 
 Of the Maxixe, the One-Step, the two Waltzes and the 
 Tango, the leap into popularity has been so incredibly 
 sudden, and the popularity so far-reaching, that it 
 suggests a great, curious story; a story with dances 
 and nations as characters; a story whose capacity for 
 surprises is so well proven that all the world keeps ask- 
 ing itself, "What next?" 
 
 That the tendency is not in the direction of the gro- 
 tesque is evidenced in the history of the Turkey Trot. 
 
 So far the layman may read for himself. For more 
 definite opinion, we turn to those who, by intimate as- 
 sociation with the art in the capacity of teachers and 
 performers, are situated to observe the attitude of the 
 public toward the art ; and who also, by virtue of a broad
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE" 
 Characteristic style (i) A Dip (2) Variations (3, 4) 
 
 To face page }Oi
 
 THE "BRAZILIAN MAXIXE" 
 
 Preparation for a turn (i) Finish of a turn (2) Characteristic style (3) A 
 
 Dip (4) 
 
 To face page JO}
 
 SOCIAL DANCING OF TO-DAY 303 
 
 knowledge of dancing, are capable of relating their 
 observations to choreographic geography and history. 
 Madame Pavlowa, of the world; Mr. Anderson, now 
 of America; and Miss Nellie Chaplin of London, have 
 committed themselves definitely as to future probabili- 
 ties ; and with their opinion authorities generally are in 
 full agreement. To the effect that: 
 
 The dances of the seventeenth-century courts are the 
 objective toward which present-day steps are moving 
 directly. They are a part of the curriculum of Miss 
 Chaplin's famous London school. A Gavotte Direc- 
 toire presented by Madame Pavlowa, one of her most 
 popular numbers, seems the very spirit of modernism. 
 She expresses the belief that the Russian Gavotte, in 
 which is preserved the courtly spirit, is destined to wide 
 acceptance. Mr. Anderson demonstrates points of step 
 and style that link together most convincingly the old 
 and the new. Familiarity with the court dances is the 
 dominant influence in his treatment of the dances of to- 
 day; and the significant part of it is that the essential 
 modernism of his manner, in steps rapid or slow, lies 
 in a poise which, until yesterday, was supposed to be 
 old-fashioned.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE OF CONDITIONS 
 
 THAT great dancing is a useful and desirable ad- 
 dition to human happiness needs no argument. 
 Its power to delight the vision and expand the 
 imagination ; its value as an example and incentive to an 
 exercise unsurpassed as an ally of health these and 
 other virtues are obvious. More completely, perhaps, 
 than any of its tributary arts, dancing has the power to 
 impart that indefinable mental well-being that great 
 art aims to give its auditor or spectator. As music is 
 refreshment for one, pictures for another, so the con- 
 templation of dancing is the means of ordering and en- 
 ergising the mind of a third. We of the United States 
 are a beauty-loving people in the main, and almost 
 unanimously attuned to the message of action so long 
 as we understand its meaning. Once really established 
 among such a people, dancing would take a position of 
 importance second to no other source of national in- 
 spiration. In the meantime, there are unorganised co- 
 horts of us to whom good dancing, like good reading, is 
 something of a necessity; and we should like to know 
 what we have a right to expect from the near future. 
 "The public gets what it wants," is the sophisticated 
 comment almost invariably drawn forth by any discus- 
 sion along these lines. Which comment exposes its 
 own superficiality; the suggestion of the existence of 
 any one public, in relation to the arts, is absurd. 
 
 304
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 305 
 
 Patronising dancing there appear, at the very first 
 glance, two publics as widely separated as inhabitants 
 of different planets; each public possessed of apprecia- 
 tions inconceivable to the other, and even contemptible. 
 These are the public that applauds the buxom laziness 
 which substitutes for dancing in the so-called "amuse- 
 ment" known as burlesque, as distinguished from the 
 public that responds to the pure beauty of opera ballet 
 or well-performed ballet pantomime. 
 
 Between these two extremes is an intermediate pub- 
 lic that is the more or less innocent cause of endless 
 confusion, and whose good nature is an obstacle to the 
 betterment of standards. In the theatre, even when 
 the chaff outweighs the wheat, it applauds everything. 
 The next day Mr. and Mrs. Intermediate Public advise 
 their friends that the production is stupid. Decreasing 
 attendance may warn the manager that something is 
 lacking: but what? As a criticism, absence is not very 
 illuminating. Acts are changed, cablegrams written 
 and lines rewritten, this man discharged, a woman 
 rushed over from Paris. And when all is said and done, 
 the performance perhaps continues to emphasise fea- 
 tures that were the cause of bad impressions. For this 
 confusion, the audiences are at least equally to blame 
 with the manager. They owe it to themselves as well 
 as to others to express themselves frankly. 
 
 Exactly what grade of dancing this intermediate pub- 
 lic really wants is an unsettled question and one of 
 paramount importance, since it involves a good part 
 of the potential support of good things. Managers in- 
 fer, each according to his own disposition; and there 
 is rarely material for the formation of inferences in 
 any way exact. For one reason or another, no under-
 
 3 o6 THE DANCE 
 
 taking serves the purpose of exact experiment; experi- 
 ence does not lead to any unavoidable conclusion. A few 
 wholly good ballet productions have been given in the 
 Untied States during the past few years ; they have not 
 been tremendously successful, up to the present, from 
 the point of view of profits. The optimist, however, 
 counts even small profits a success, in the circum- 
 stances. Here is an art that employs a language prac- 
 tically unknown to this country; yet it has not failed 
 to impress. But the men who risked the money take 
 another view of it. They consider that they have had 
 a narrow escape from disaster, that the profits are not 
 commensurate with the risks, and that they are well out 
 of a bad affair. Augustin Daly, at the time of his 
 death, was engaged in a course of instructing the public 
 in the appreciation of pantomime, expecting to lose 
 money on it for two or three consecutive years. But the 
 present moment reveals no Augustin Daly among the 
 potential managers of dancing in America. Few are 
 willing to plant seed for a harvest long deferred. And 
 in justice be it added that the equipment and mainte- 
 nance of Pygmalion and Galatea or U Enfant Prodigue, 
 the vehicles of Mr. Daly's missionary efforts in the in-" 
 terests of pantomime, would be a small fraction of the 
 expenses attaching to a first-class production of any of 
 the great mimetic ballets. 
 
 The situation is, in all essentials, the same as that 
 through which operatic and orchestral music passed a 
 few years ago. Music lovers put their favoured art 
 on a substantial basis by means of endowments. Any 
 other course in relation to the ballet results in a matter 
 of probabilities and possibilities, but not of certainties. 
 The present interest in dancing, left to itself, may lead
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 307 
 
 to great things. Or it may lead to nothing at all. The 
 renaissance of interest that followed the Kiralfy suc- 
 cesses in the sixties and seventies was killed by counter- 
 feits. The same hostile possibilities exist at present. 
 
 The above-indicated dependence of the dance on its 
 ability to show immediate profits is only the first of its 
 handicaps. That difficulty would not be light, even 
 though every manager viewed conditions clearly and 
 fairly, as some of them do. Unfortunately, however, 
 there is in the profession a class that has succeeded be- 
 cause of, or in spite of, a belief that good taste does not 
 exist in America. To prove this, they shape every oc- 
 currence into an argument. In gathering "names" for 
 the interest of their advertising, they engage a certain 
 number of capable artists. If the productions employ- 
 ing these artists succeed, the cynical manager will con- 
 strue such success as proof of American worship of 
 reputation, and its power to blind him to a mess of ac- 
 companying mediocrity. If, on the contrary, failure at- 
 tend the enterprise, it proves American inability to 
 appreciate good work. For the success of a really good 
 work of art, these pessimists will find any explanation 
 except that of good work duly appreciated. Skilful 
 publicity, novelty, a public affectation of good taste, the 
 employment of Oriental motifs, any theory, so long as 
 it acknowledges no taste superior to their own. These 
 are the people who, if Madame Pavlowa's present tour, 
 for instance, makes a striking financial success, will in- 
 undate the country with pseudo-Russian ballets, per- 
 verting everything, unable to see the need of beauty and 
 artistry, bringing all dancing into disrepute. 
 
 Let it be clearly understood : these people by no means 
 represent the manager's profession. But they are to
 
 308 THE DANCE 
 
 an extent in control of the situation, and the person who 
 wants to see dancing is more or less dependent on them 
 as the source of supply. In the absence of any endowed 
 institution, no ballet can be seen except under commer- 
 cial management and, as noted, commercial manage- 
 ment that cannot or will not knowingly invest in an 
 enterprise that is going to require time to be understood. 
 
 The manager desirous of staging a work of genuine 
 choreographic quality finds himself confronted by a dis- 
 couraging scarcity of even semicompetent material for 
 his ballet that is, here in America. To bring a corps 
 de ballet from Europe, with guarantees covering a mini- 
 mum number of weeks of work, transportation both 
 ways, and other proper and just requirements, is com- 
 mercially dangerous. No reasonable blame can be at- 
 tached to the usual course of engaging such girls as are 
 easily available, fitting steps to their limitations, insist- 
 ing on the girls and evading the dance, and making 
 much of draperies and coloured lights. 
 
 As a direct result of the scarcity of capable ballet 
 people, dance-lovers not infrequently lose the services 
 of a rare artist. No one artist can give a satisfying 
 two-hour public performance of dancing. Saying noth- 
 ing of variety as a desideratum in a programme, the 
 question of physical endurance enters. To rest the 
 premiere between her flights, a corps 'de ballet is indis- 
 pensable. Without the latter, the former is to be com- 
 pared to a commander without an army. But the par- 
 ticular case illustrates, where general statement only 
 explains. 
 
 On the face of things, Miss Lydia Lopoukowa's de- 
 termination to take up residence in the United States 
 would seem to mean that American dance-lovers might
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 309 
 
 count on her art as a definite acquisition. After her 
 season with Mordkin, the young woman accepted a posi- 
 tion as premiere of a ballet, as good as can be made from 
 native material. A divertissement is composed that 
 pleases public and management, and all concerned ex- 
 cept the premiere herself. She finds her work circum- 
 scribed by the necessity of keeping down to a pitch be- 
 yond which the support cannot rise. That the public 
 is pleased is not sufficient; with unrestricted self-ex- 
 pression, and freedom of flight, she could bring that 
 public to a point of enthusiasm. Her art is belittled, 
 and she finds herself in a false position. As soon as 
 contracts permit, she withdraws her energies from the 
 effort to accomplish good in that direction. So, for 
 the lack of a competent ballet, the dance-loving portion 
 of the population is robbed. As to Miss Lopoukowa, 
 she has a taste for and demonstrated ability in the 
 drama. Dancing will give her extraordinary distinc- 
 tion in plays that admit its union with the dramatic ac- 
 tion. But under better conditions, her dancing need 
 not have been subordinated to another art. 
 
 At this point a question might justly be raised as to 
 whether the interests of the ballet are not being ade- 
 quately cared for by some of the great opera companies. 
 To such possible question the only answer is negative. 
 Nor are the companies chargeable with any neglect or 
 shortcoming in not giving their ballet departments the 
 relative importance of ballet in European opera organ- 
 isations. The task of popularising great music alone 
 has been somewhat more than a labour of Hercules. 
 Opera as music now has a supporting patronage; to 
 change the ballet's relative importance would be dis- 
 turbing, in all probability. Moreover, the Metropolitan
 
 310 THE DANCE 
 
 (if not the others) has done all that is humanly possible 
 under present conditions, with the principal result of 
 demonstrating that those conditions are to be met by a 
 ballet institution, and nothing less. 
 
 At the time of the Metropolitan's organisation, it will 
 be remembered, the world's interest in ballet dancing 
 was at a lower pitch than it ever had been since the dis- 
 solution of the Roman Empire ; that is, about the middle 
 of the Victorian period. Had the undertaking been no 
 more than that of producing opera in a land already 
 friendly to it, it would have been no more than natural 
 if the Metropolitan directors had accepted the ballet's 
 status as they found it in England. Their task being, 
 however, the production of opera in a country almost 
 hostile to it, a failure to simplify the problem in every 
 possible way would have been bad generalship. 
 
 Not finding itself expected to take rank with the bal- 
 lets of other great opera organisations, the Metropoli- 
 tan's department of dancing has gone its comfortable 
 gait. It has been under the direction of excellent ballet- 
 masters; but they become easy-going, especially after 
 proving to themselves that girls cannot successfully be 
 asked to perform steps for which they lack the founda- 
 tion of training. To other mollifying influences is 
 added that of a slippery floor in the room dedicated to 
 ballet rehearsal ; a room so beautiful and a floor so per- 
 fect that to resin it would be a desecration. The dan- 
 cers, in fear for the intactness of their bones, walk 
 through their numbers as best they can, and ultimately 
 perform them in a manner consistent with rehearsals. 
 
 As a step toward relieving the scarcity of ballet peo- 
 ple, the Metropolitan founded, about five years ago, a 
 ballet school an enterprise from which, up to the pres-
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 311 
 
 ent, the pupils have rather monopolised the material 
 profits. The arrangement between management and 
 pupil is, in brief, that the pupil shall remain under the 
 school's (free) tuition four years, at the end of which 
 period the Opera has an option on her services for three 
 years, at a salary of twenty dollars a week, a little more 
 or less. If she appears in the corps de ballet during 
 her period of study, she is paid proportionately. The 
 school work occupies two hours per day, about nine 
 months of the year. The atmosphere of both school 
 and Opera is wholesome and good ; no fault can be found 
 with the arrangement on a basis of fairness; but the 
 number of individuals the school has added to the 
 Opera's ballet is shockingly small. Every revue, musi- 
 cal comedy, and other light musical production includes 
 a collection of young women called a ballet; and each 
 year of increased general intelligence in dancing mat- 
 ters adds to the desirability that these ballets should 
 justify the name. The pretty girl, plus coloured lights, 
 drapery, and lively cavorting, no longer constitutes a 
 perfectly secure grip on public approval (except always 
 in burlesque, with which we are not concerned). The 
 result is an insatiable demand for girls who can even 
 half dance. And that demand, in its turn, is a steady 
 drain on the Opera's school. Before she has studied 
 two years, a girl can qualify for a position in an outside 
 concern a condition of which she never remains in 
 ignorance very long. She thinks it over. Two years 
 more work in the school would insure her a position in 
 the Opera, at weekly pay no greater than the present 
 offer, for a comparatively short season each year. 
 Now, if the Metropolitan ballet had great prestige as a 
 choreographic organisation a prestige like that of the
 
 312 THE DANCE 
 
 Russian ballet, for instance its more capable members 
 would be sought after as teachers. A connection with 
 it would confer artistic honour and material profit. Un- 
 fortunately, such prestige is one of the elements that are 
 lacking. In resume: continuance with the school in- 
 sures employment for about half of every year, begin- 
 ning at a later time, with the chances of advancement 
 almost zero. Whereas, musical comedy and the like 
 offer the probability of employment the year round, 
 minus the time of rehearsing new productions. Present 
 profits are more attractive than the deferred kind ; and, 
 a consideration by no means unimportant, a pretty face 
 and a pleasing manner are reasonable grounds on which 
 to hope for a "part." Her contract? The young girl 
 of the present generation has had her own way about 
 everything since the hour of her birth. Experience 
 teaches her that the worst penalty reasonably to be ex- 
 pected is a harmless reproof, soon ended. And her 
 experience is a true guide in this case. As a matter of 
 sentiment, no one likes to oppose the wishes of a girl. 
 As a matter of business, it would be of doubtful ad- 
 vantage for the opera company to take legal steps to 
 enjoin its contract-breaking pupils from appearing in 
 other concerns. Happenings connected with opera and 
 the theatres have a high value in the newspapers; no 
 motive is more popular than that of the persecution of 
 the poor but beautiful girl; the publicity force of the 
 musical comedy employing said girl would busy itself 
 creating for her the role of victim. The opera man- 
 agement would find difficulty in securing a true and 
 therefore comparatively uninteresting public statement 
 of its case; indeed, it would be likely to be made to 
 appear, in the eyes of the multitude, as a sort of ogre.
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 313 
 
 The Metropolitan school furnishes a complete and 
 conclusive test of the possibilities of an opera organisa- 
 tion, as such, in the province of dancing. But even 
 if the Metropolitan ballet were right now at the high- 
 est conceivable pitch of perfection, a radical change of 
 policy would be necessary as a preliminary to giving the 
 school its proper power to hold its pupils' allegiance. 
 That is to say, the opportunity to appear in an occa- 
 sional divertissement is not sufficient to hold an ambi- 
 tious and capable young man or woman through long 
 years of study. In St. Petersburg, the Imperial Opera 
 House dedicates two nights a week to mimetic ballet. 
 The dancers' art on those occasions is subordinate to 
 none. The dance is the thing; and the dancers, ac- 
 cording to ability, are given the opportunity to inter- 
 pret character and motive. In short, they are given 
 the opportunity to express their art as individuals. 
 
 Now, one or another of the American opera com- 
 panies might be willing and able to duplicate the above 
 conditions conditions without whose aid no ballet 
 reaches a high plane of development. The undertak- 
 ing, however, would have at least twice the weight of 
 the administration of either ballet or opera alone; it 
 would be accompanied, too, by a risk that the twofold 
 interest would result in confusing or displeasing a por- 
 tion of the music-lovers who constitute opera's support. 
 The creation, development and maintenance of stand- 
 ards of a great ballet is a combined task and opportunity 
 for dance-lovers themselves, and an end to be reached 
 through the medium of a ballet institution. It may be 
 added that the Russian regime puts music and ballet 
 under the charge of two distinct and separate institu- 
 tions.
 
 3H THE DANCE 
 
 Opera companies whose traditions have been formed 
 during recent years have naturally felt the force of the 
 renaissance of dancing; they have invested their ballets 
 with an importance that would have been considered dis- 
 proportionate if their formative period had coincided 
 with the mid-Victorian period. The Philadelphia-Chi- 
 cago company has had a better corps de ballet than could 
 logically be expected in view of the limitations of Amer- 
 ican material ; credit is due Sr. Luigi Albertieri, the bal- 
 let-master. As premiere danseuse the same company 
 for some years has had Signorina Rosina Galli, a de- 
 lightful little product of la Scala. In 1913 Sr. Alber- 
 tieri took the post of ballet-master of the new Century 
 Opera Company, with Miss Albertina Rasch, formerly 
 of the Vienna opera, as premiere. The public's readi- 
 ness to recognise good work was demonstrated during 
 the Century's first presentation of The Jewels of the 
 Madonna. After the act in which the Tarantella is 
 danced, the audience demanded that Miss Rasch re- 
 spond, with the two principal singers, to the curtain- 
 calls. 
 
 In Canada, the influence of the times may be noted 
 in the Canadian Royal Opera Company's engagement 
 of Madame Pavlowa and her company to provide the 
 ballet portion of eight performances. Of present in- 
 terest in the dance throughout North America, there 
 is no manner of doubt. It is perfectly clear that ap- 
 preciation of choreographic beauty and discernment of 
 skill are rapidly advancing. London has shown its ca- 
 pacity to support four great ballet attractions through 
 the same season, and that a long one ; the United States 
 is influenced by England's taste in entertainment. 
 Dancing exhibitions and pageants are now a part of the
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 315 
 
 entertainments of smart society. A masque produced 
 by Mrs. Hawkesworth, in one of the private gardens 
 of Newport, was of a nature to recall the historic fes- 
 tivals of Catherine de Medici. And the nation's taste 
 in entertainment is influenced by smart society. All 
 signs point to a continued and even growing interest 
 in dancing. And it is possible, without other aid or 
 guidance than that interest in dancing in general, that 
 dancing as a great art, an art of deep emotional in- 
 terpretation, will take its proper place in this land. But, 
 with the multitude of forces of vulgarity, get-rich-quick 
 commercialism, and heedlessness opposed to it, it is 
 doubtful. At the present moment, the high art of 
 dancing is pleasing, and its emotional message partly 
 comprehended. If it were fully comprehended, that 
 art would be an indispensable source of refreshment to 
 the American mind. Consistently repeated for a few 
 years, its idiom would be familiar to a large part of the 
 population. The conditions which this chapter has an- 
 alysed show, however, that the sufficient and adequate 
 repetition of ballet drama is by no means certain. And 
 this chapter's motive is to emphasise two things: first, 
 if American lovers of dancing wish to insure for them- 
 selves the continuous opportunity to see fine representa- 
 tions of that art, they must found a ballet, and an acad- 
 emy upon which it may depend for its artists; second, 
 for such a step no time can be more propitious than the 
 present. 
 
 If the vision of an endowed ballet institution in the 
 United States seems lacking on the practical side, it is 
 not amiss to recall a few facts of American history in 
 its relation to music than whose ambitions of yester- 
 day nothing was thought to be less practical. Thirty
 
 3i6 THE DANCE 
 
 years ago the attitude of the United States (particu- 
 larly the West) toward classical music was less indiffer- 
 ent than scornful. To confess a liking for orchestral 
 or operatic compositions was to brand oneself as queer. 
 Anything connected with music or musicians was deemed 
 a fair mark for newspaper jokers; and they knew their 
 readers. Inevitably, organisations that ventured a tour 
 did so at their financial peril. 
 
 Individual singers and performers were protected 
 somewhat by their lesser expenses and their prepared- 
 ness to render popular ballads; but they too knew well 
 the look of empty benches. 
 
 Theodore Thomas pointed out to a group of Chicago 
 people that never, under such conditions, would the 
 adequate performance of great works be other than at 
 rare and uncertain times; that, without fairly frequent 
 hearing of those great works, public taste never would 
 improve. Obviously, the programmes that Mr. Thomas 
 proposed to give, and the manner and frequency with 
 which he proposed to give them, brought up the pro- 
 phetic vision of considerable money loss; but the funds 
 were subscribed. The result is the Chicago Orchestra: 
 a source of unending happiness to lovers of good music, 
 just pride to the city, and material benefit in no slight 
 degree. Chicago finds itself the place of residence of 
 several thousand music students, and a centre of at- 
 traction for many more thousands of occasional pil- 
 grims to the Orchestra's concerts. Lastly, as though 
 to show that idealism is not the idle dissipation that it 
 seems, the Orchestra was reported several years ago 
 to have reached a basis of self-support. 
 
 The same history has been virtually duplicated in per- 
 haps a score of cities, needless to enumerate. Even
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 317 
 
 "practical" people admit that most of the orchestras so 
 endowed, though they may have passed through a pe- 
 riod of begging people to accept passes to concerts, are 
 now paying their own expenses. The general history 
 of the Metropolitan Opera has already been outlined. 
 Opera in other cities has gone through much the same 
 train of events, slowly changing indifference to in- 
 terest, and having now arrived at the stage of inde- 
 pendence made possible by a demand that grows stead- 
 ily in volume and intelligence. The number of per- 
 formances in each city shows a consistent annual 
 growth. 
 
 Certainly the taste for dancing of a high class is no 
 less worthy of indulgence and cultivation than the taste 
 for the sister art of music. If music's dependence upon 
 endowment was once more evident than is that of dan- 
 cing now, then so much less is the difficulty of financing 
 a ballet institution; proportionately less, too, are the 
 hazards and delays to be undergone before the institu- 
 tion arrives at a paying basis. 
 
 For the organisation and conduct of such an institu- 
 tion, the Russian ballet and Academy supplies a model 
 that could be followed in most details. American senti- 
 ment probably would rebel at so complete a separation 
 of children from parents as the Imperial Academy re- 
 quires; but a less complete separation would not neces- 
 sarily be detrimental to results. For actual technical 
 work in dancing, plastic gymnastics, pantomime, music 
 and other courses more than a few hours a day would 
 be beyond the strength of very young pupils, leaving 
 half of each day to attend common school. As the pu- 
 pil advances, his hours per day in the academy could 
 increase; he could acquire general education after his
 
 318 THE DANCE 
 
 technical education is accomplished with just as good 
 results as accompany the present reversal of that se- 
 quence. 
 
 The weak spot that appears in the plan is the pos- 
 sible interference of parents with the school's discipline. 
 The training of a dancer involves hard work and a great 
 deal of it. Although the work be demonstrably bene- 
 ficial in all ways, the American parents' attitude toward 
 that work and the accompanying discipline would be 
 the question to be settled. Boys, to be sure, are sent 
 sometimes at an early age to military schools, and there 
 brought up under a more or less exact regime. But 
 public sentiment favours the indulgence of the girl in 
 all her wishes. It would be a matter requiring adjust- 
 ment, and probably susceptible of adjustment. Far 
 greater difficulties have been overcome. 
 
 Against the prevailing tendency to abandon the train- 
 ing in order to accept outside engagements, by which 
 the Metropolitan Opera School of Ballet has been too 
 often victimised, the academy could protect itself by 
 requiring each pupil to file a bond as a condition of 
 entrance, the amount to be forfeited if the pupil violates 
 his agreement. Questions of payment, ranking of per- 
 formers, amount of pensions and the like are details 
 needless to consider in the general plan. 
 
 Proper equipment would represent a considerable ex- 
 penditure: a modern theatre, or the liberal use of one; 
 drill halls, music rooms, gymnasium, baths, etc. As 
 to instructors, the right kind are available. At the out- 
 set, ballet-master and most of the dancers would have 
 to be engaged from outside, their number decreasing as 
 the school's products reached the proficiency to take 
 their places. The employment, at the beginning, of
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 319 
 
 finished dancers, would be of advantage in establish- 
 ing standards for students. Scenery, costumes and or- 
 chestra are to be had at the cost of thought and money. 
 Medical and other expenses, taxes, etc., are minor con- 
 siderations. Now to returns. In considering which, 
 it is understood that such an undertaking may not make 
 expenses at first. But it is not impossible that good 
 management should reduce the losing years to a very 
 small number. 
 
 Assuming (say) thirty performances in the home 
 city during the first year: the prestige of that number 
 of performances, kept up to a consistent pitch of ex- 
 cellence, would be nation-wide. As a result of that 
 prestige, a long tour and several short ones would un- 
 doubtedly return an excess over salaries and costs. 
 Bear in mind that a commercial undertaking of the sort 
 must figure on recouping a heavy initial expense, and 
 transportation of a company from Europe and return. 
 
 Special engagements of artists, in groups or individ- 
 ually, would net the institution a greater or less part 
 of the receipts, according to the terms of individual con- 
 tracts. 
 
 Considering conditions as they are, and looking at 
 the history of music as a fair analogy, it would be safe 
 to assume that local interest in dancing and the mimetic 
 ballet would increase steadily after the institution's first 
 year, increasing income proportionately. On the other 
 side of the account, expenses should begin to decrease 
 after the third year. A wardrobe and a stock of scen- 
 ery would have been accumulated, their cost reduced 
 to upkeep and occasional additions. More important, 
 pupils by that time would begin to qualify for the ballet, 
 decreasing the pay-roll of European dancers. In eight
 
 320 THE DANCE 
 
 years, if the institution has been reasonably fortunate, 
 it should have a ballet recruited principally from its 
 own school. These alumni, of whatever grade, it would 
 have at low salaries; salaries at the same time satis- 
 factory to the recipients, whose popularity as private 
 teachers would be about in ratio to the quality of work 
 with which they identified themselves in performances. 
 Stated hours of exemption from duties connected with 
 the ballet and the school would open the way to such 
 extra revenue. The pay of the premiere danseuse of 
 1'Opera of Paris is small, in relation to the require- 
 ments of her position; but teaching and outside per- 
 formances are said to yield her a comfortable income. 
 
 Pension payments would represent a loss more ap- 
 parent than real, since many pensioners could, with ad- 
 justments, serve as teachers and aides in various ca- 
 pacities. 
 
 So far as can be learned, the foregoing covers the 
 principal elements of expense and possibilities of rev- 
 enue. The difficulties would be heavy, but less so than 
 those that have been met and overcome. The ballet 
 institution, achieved, would be a contribution to the 
 fine arts no less glorious than any this country has yet 
 received, an organism whose service to broad aesthetic 
 cultivation has been equalled by few. 
 
 On the score of both public education and its cor- 
 relative, the steady increase of the ballet's earnings, too 
 much emphasis cannot be laid on the advantage the 
 institution would have in its facilities for repeating 
 great works at frequent intervals. We have seen how 
 ground gained by the first Russian season in America 
 was partly lost, through conditions that made it impos- 
 sible to follow up victories. The choreographic idiom
 
 A LAYMAN'S ESTIMATE 321 
 
 once understood in its fulness, and its public having 
 found itself, the changes of fashion in popular taste 
 would be powerless to affect the dignified status of the 
 art. Under commercial conditions, let the general level 
 of taste sag, or appear to sag, and fine expression is no 
 more. The thousands who have half learned to love 
 the good give it up, and revert to the mediocre; while 
 those who are wholly in sympathy with the good say 
 nothing, stay away from the theatre, and are supposed, 
 by managers, not to exist. Good taste never dies out ; it 
 only appears to. The amalgamation of the aristocracy 
 of taste that would be effected by the proposed institu- 
 tion would, in itself, have a tremendous importance. 
 Any basis for computing the potential support for good 
 and honest attractions would be of the utmost advan- 
 tage to their proprietors. Disclosures of a substantial 
 demand would encourage tours of the best in Europe, 
 while a reliable measure of the limitations of such de- 
 mand would be no less valuable as a warning against 
 reckless expense. Certainly it is to the interest of the 
 art that good attractions shall be materially profit- 
 able. 
 
 As to the thought of any tendency of such an insti- 
 tution to take the practice of dancing away from the 
 laity, and confine it to paid exhibitions, the effect would 
 be to the contrary. It would, however, make for a 
 rise of standards. Dancing clubs and pantomime clubs 
 that a little fertilisation would bring to light would 
 find in a quasi-public ballet an inspiration and a guide; 
 and the good to public health and spirits, in the way of 
 such clubs alone, would be pronounced. Also, prevalent 
 impressions concerning the relationship between clever- 
 ness, "individuality" and genuine workmanship would
 
 322 THE DANCE 
 
 be modified, to the betterment of what is known as the 
 American spirit. 
 
 Greek poets found metre for their verses in the tap- 
 ping of feet on the floor. Since the days of Gluck and 
 Gretry, the ballet has been among the foremost stimuli 
 and guides in musical composition. Of late years, the 
 Russian ballet's lift to romantic music is a matter of 
 almost common knowledge. Is it a ballet that is 
 awaited as the inspiration of an American school of 
 music? It is not impossible. But that, and a thousand 
 other questions, are not for present consideration. The 
 present issue is the institution itself.
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 LA DANSE GRECQUE ANTIQUE: Maurice Emmanuel. Traces 
 the origin of a number of steps to ancient Greece, by 
 analysis of poses of dancing, figures on ceramics, etc. 
 Good explanation of ballet steps. (French.) 
 
 A GRAMMAR OF THE ART OF DANCING: Friedrich Albert 
 Zorn. Explains a system of choreographic writing by 
 means of symbols to indicate positions and movements. 
 By means (partly) of symbols explains ballet steps, also 
 several ballroom dances. Exact and complete. (Writ- 
 ten in German; translated into English and other 
 languages.) 
 
 L'ACADEMIE IMPERIALS DE MUSIQUE: Castil-Blaze. "His- 
 toire litteraire, musicale, choreographique, pittoresque, 
 morale, critique, facetieuse, politique et galante de ce 
 theatre." (From 1645 to 1855.) Contains much history 
 and anecdote of Roman Empire and Middle Ages, with 
 descriptions of mediaeval ambulatory ballets, etc. 
 (French.) 
 
 LES PENSEES: /.-/. Rousseau. Defends the dance against 
 attacks of English. Rare; frequently missing from (sup- 
 posedly) complete editions of the author. (French.) 
 
 MEMOIRS ET JOURNAUX : Pierre de I'Estoile. A collection 
 of anecdotes of the court of Henry III. A mine of in- 
 formation and gossip in relation to masques, etc., in the 
 period described. (French.) 
 
 DES BALLETS ANCIENS ET MODERNES, SELON LES REGLES DU 
 
 THEATRE: Claude Frangois Menestrier. 1682. Author 
 was a Jesuit priest. Book includes extensive list of ballets 
 produced in France up to year of its publication. 
 
 3*3
 
 324 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 ORCHESOGRAPHIE : Thoinet-Arbeau (anagram of Jean Tab- 
 ourof). 1589. Author was Canon of Langres and 
 Maitre de Chapelle of Henry III. The first book devoted 
 to the dance. Comments on all aspects of dancing in 
 France of his time. (French) 
 
 THE CODE OF TERPSICHORE. LE CODE COMPLET DE LA DANSE. 
 
 TRAITE HISTORIQUE THEORIQUE ET PRATIQUE DE 
 
 L'ART DE LA DANSE, DE LA PANTOMIME, DES BALLETS: 
 Carlo Blasis. Of the three books named, the first is in 
 English ; its material is more or less repeated in the other 
 two, which are in French. A standard for the use of bal- 
 let-masters especially. Authoritative on matters pertain- 
 ing to ballet technique, questionable on character dances, 
 wholly untrustworthy on Spanish. 
 
 LETTRES SUR LA DANSE ET LES BALLETS I M. Noverre, ballet- 
 
 master of the Duke of Wiirtemburg, 1'Opera of Paris, 
 and other operas. 1760. Classic. Author was the pro- 
 phet of and leader to the modern ballet. A broad and 
 comprehensive work on art, as well as authoritative on 
 stage direction, ballet technique, and history. (French.) 
 
 DE LA SALTATION THEATRALE : M. de I'Aulnaye. 1790. 
 Dancing and pantomime in antiquity. Contains a cata- 
 logue (thought by some authorities to be complete) of 
 dances of ancient Greece. (French.) 
 
 DANCING AND DANCERS OF TODAY : Caroline and Charles Caf- 
 fin. 1912. Special attention to biographies of contem- 
 porary dancers. (English.) 
 
 LETTRES A SOPHIE SUR LA DANSE: A. BarOH. 1825. His- 
 
 tory, folk-dances and balls of Middle Ages. A chapter 
 is devoted to dancing of Hebrews. (French.) 
 
 LA DICTIONNAIRE DE LA DANSE: G. Desrat. Recent. Ex- 
 tremely useful. In dictionary form presents wide range 
 of information. 
 
 A HISTORY OF DANCING: G. VuilUcr. 1898. Translated 
 from original French into English and Italian. Read-
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 325 
 
 able history of the art from antiquity to latter iQth cen- 
 ^ tury; many descriptions of early ballets and masques are 
 quoted from Menestrier, De 1'Estoile and others. 
 
 MODERN DANCING AND DANCERS! /. E. Crawford Flitch. 
 
 1912. History of ballet in England, biographical- 
 
 analytical sketches of individuals of latter iQth century, 
 
 details of Russian ballet in London. Delightfully writ- 
 
 ten. (English.) 
 TRATADO DE BAiLES : Jose Otero, famous master in Seville. 
 
 1912. Expression of the spirit of Spanish dancing. 
 
 Much amusing reminiscence. (Spanish.) 
 DICTIONNAIRE DE DANSE i Charles Compan. 1802. De- 
 
 tailed instructions in social dances of the period. 
 
 (French.) 
 
 NOTE. The above-named works are not arranged in order either of 
 chronology or importance.
 
 INDEX 
 
 ADAGIO, 95. 
 
 Albert, dancer, 109. 
 
 Albertieri, Luigi, ballet-master ; 
 definition ballone, 74; Century 
 Opera Company, 314. 
 
 Alegrias, Spanish dance, 134. 
 
 Alexander VI, see Pope. 
 
 Allard, Mile., dancer, 107. 
 
 Allemande, the, court dance, 52. 
 
 Almees, the, tribe of dancers, 210. 
 
 Anacreon, 8. 
 
 Anderson, John Murray, dancer; 
 old court dances, 52; modern 
 ball-room dances, 272-303. 
 
 Animals, danced representations of, 
 ip. 
 
 Anisfeldt, Boris, designer stage 
 decorations, 264. 
 
 Anne of Austria, 49. 
 
 Antoinette, Marie, 53. 
 
 Arabesque (posture), 78. 
 
 Arabs, dancing of, 196 et. seq. 
 
 Arbeau, Thoinet (anagram of Jehan 
 Tabourot), Canon of Langres, 
 choreographic historian. Ridicules 
 opposition to dancing, 31. Hints 
 on deportment, 55. See also 
 Church. 
 
 Ariosto, Suppositi, performance in 
 yatican, 44. 
 
 Aristides, 8. 
 
 Aristodemus, dancer as ambassador, 
 8. 
 
 Ark of Covenant ; see David. 
 
 Arms, positions of, ballet, 67. See 
 also Flamenco, Arabs. 
 
 Artificiality, charge of against bal- 
 let, 62, 63. 
 
 Assemble (step), 69. 
 
 Attitude, 84. 
 
 Awakening of the Soul, dance, 
 Egyptian, 210, 211. 
 
 BACCHU-BER, Savoyard observance, 
 186. 
 
 Bacon, Francis, composer of 
 masques, 48. 
 
 Bakst, Leon ; designer stage decora- 
 tions, costumes, choreographer. 
 
 Compared to Noverre, 105. Part 
 
 in Romantic movement, 248. 
 Ballet Academy, French National. 
 
 Founded, 49; Influence, 100. 
 Ballet Academy, Metropolitan 
 
 Opera, see Metropolitan Opera. 
 Ballet Academy, Russian Imperial, 
 
 see Russian. 
 Ballet, Classic, its artistic function, 
 
 60, 6 1 ; 89-91, 96. See also Ex- 
 pression. 
 Ballet dancers, effects of scarcity in 
 
 America, 308-312. 
 Ballet Theater, American, outline 
 
 for conduct of, 317-322. 
 Ballet (le) Comique de la Reine, 
 
 46. 
 
 Ballet technique, ballet steps, 65-97. 
 Ballet, Russian, see Russian Ballet. 
 Bolm, dancer, 247. 
 Ballone, 60, 73. 
 
 Baltarazini. See Beaujoyeulx. 
 Bathyllus, 25 et seq. 
 Battement, 71, 72. 
 Beaujoyeulx, ballet master, 45. 
 Belgium, dances of, 182 et seq. 
 Bible, The; references to dancing, 
 
 5- 
 
 Black Crook, The, 231 et. seq. 
 
 Blasis, Carlo, ballet-master, writer 
 on dancing, no. 
 
 Bolero, the, Spanish dance, 146, 
 148. 
 
 Bolm, Adolf, dancer, 248. 
 
 Bonfanti, Marie, dancer, teacher, 
 232. 
 
 Boston, The, social dance; relation 
 to other social dances, 272. Exe- 
 cution, 284-288 incl. 
 
 Boston Dip, see Dip. 
 
 Boston Waltz. See Boston. 
 
 Boucher, designed stage decora- 
 tions, 104.' 
 
 Bourree, la, French dance, 52, 54, 
 183. 
 
 Branle, family of dances ; B. du 
 Haut Barrois, B. des Lavandicres, 
 B. des Ermites, B. des Flam- 
 beaux, 55. 
 
 327
 
 328 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Brise (step), 73. 
 
 Brunelleschi, stage decorations, 44. 
 Bulerias, Snanisn dance, 134. 
 Burlesque, 229. 
 
 CABRIOLE, 72. 
 
 Cachucha, the, Spanish dance, in, 
 
 140. 
 Canadian Royal Opera Company, 
 
 ballet, 314. 
 Camargo, dancer, 50 et seq. Place 
 
 in art, 59 et seq. Influence on 
 
 costume, 100. Quality of work, 
 
 107. 
 Can-Can, The, dance of Mont- 
 
 martre, 229. 
 
 Cansino, Antonio, teacher, 124. 
 Cansino, Elisa, dancer, 135. 
 Cansino, Eduardo, dancer, observer 
 
 of work of Gipsies, 126, 134. 
 Carmencita, dancer, 139. Influence 
 
 in America, 239. 
 Carnaval, le, ballet drama, 268. 
 Caryatis, dance. Sacred to Diana, 
 
 13- 
 
 Castanets, Spanish use of, 131, 147, 
 148, 151, 152. 
 
 Castle, Mr. and Mrs. Vernon, 
 dancers, 277. 
 
 Castle Walk, see Castle. 
 
 Caucasus, The, dancing in, 217. 
 
 Cavallazi, Malvina, preface. 
 
 Cecca, stage decorations, 44. 
 
 Ceccetti, E., ballet-master, teacher, 
 74, 89. 
 
 Cerezo, teacher, 146. 
 
 Cerito, Fanny, dancer, 118. 
 
 Chaconne, the, court dance, 52, 55. 
 
 Changetnent (step), 69. 
 
 Chaplin, Nellie, reviver of old 
 English dances, teacher, 173. 
 Opinion concerning ball-room 
 dancing of to-day, 303. 
 
 Characteristic dancing, contribution 
 to ballet, 53. 
 
 Charles I, King of England, 48. 
 
 Chasse, 68. 
 
 China, dancing in, 224. 
 
 Chirinski-Chichmatoff, Princess, 
 dancer ; defines characteristic 
 dancing, 193. Russian Court 
 Dance, 195. Dancing in the Cau- 
 casus, 217. 
 
 Church, the Christian, St. Basil at- 
 tributes dancing to angels, Em- 
 peror Julian reproved by St. 
 Gregory, 30. Canon of Langres 
 ridicules opposition to dancing, 
 
 31. Mozarabic mass, St. Isidore, 
 
 32. Abuses complained of, 33. 
 Anecdote of the Fandango, 141. 
 Lerida Cathedral, Seville Cathe- 
 dral, 142. Scotland, 167. 
 
 Church, the Christian, relation to 
 dancing, see also Pope. 
 
 Cicero, 27. 
 
 Ciociara, the, Italian dance, 162. 
 
 Clayton, Bessie, dancer, 93. 
 
 Cleopatre, ballet drama, 266. 
 
 Cobblers' Dance, the, Swedish, 182. 
 
 Cobra Dance (India), 220. 
 
 Coles, Miss Cowper, reviver of old 
 English dances, teacher, 173. 
 
 Collins, Lottie, dancer, 230. 
 
 Columbina, 157. 
 
 Composition (choreographic, gen- 
 eral principles, 89, 90, 91. Nov- 
 erre's influences, 105. Arabic, 196 
 et seq, 204. Fokine (hypotheti- 
 cal example), 264. See also Ex- 
 pression. 
 
 Contredanse, type of dance, 184. 
 
 Coopers, Munich's dance of, 186. 
 
 Cordax, Ancient Greek dance, 20. 
 
 Corybantes, taught mankind, to 
 dance, 7. 
 
 Coppini, Ettore, dancer, ballet- 
 master, 233. 
 
 Corte, the, figure of Argentine 
 Tango, 295. 
 
 Cossack Dance, the, Russian, 190. 
 
 Cou-de-pied, sur le, see Pirouette. 
 
 Counter-time, Spanish use of, 126, 
 130. 
 
 Country dance, see Contredanse. 
 
 Coupe, 68. 
 
 Courante, the, court dance, 52, 56. 
 
 Court Dances, seventeenth century, 
 52 et seq. Influence on modern 
 ball-room dances, 303. 
 
 Crawford, Margaret, 53, 169. 
 
 Cybele. See Corybantes. 
 
 Czardas, the, Hungarian dance, 190, 
 192. 
 
 DALDANS, the, Swedish dance, 182. 
 
 Danse caracteristique, la. See 
 characteristic dancing. 
 
 Dauberval, dancer, 108. 
 
 da Vinci, Leonardo, stage decora- 
 tions, 44. 
 
 David, danced before Ark of Cove- 
 nant, 5. 
 
 de Botta, Bergonzio, ballet masque, 
 37 et seq. 
 
 de Medici, Catherine, Place in his-
 
 INDEX 
 
 329 
 
 tory of ballet, 44; organizer of, 
 
 performer in, grand ballet, 46. 
 de Medici, Lorenzo, 45. 
 Decoration, analogy to dance, p. 2 
 
 of preface, 96, 97, 98. Arabic, 
 
 196 et seq. Egyptian, 209, 212. 
 
 See also Composition ; Bakst. 
 de Stael, Madame, appreciation of 
 
 Tarantella, 160. 
 de Valois, Marguerite, 54. 
 del Sarto, Andrea, stage decora- 
 
 tions, 44. 
 Dervishes (Whirling), 90, 216. See 
 
 also Religions, non-Christian. 
 Developpe, 84. 
 Diagilew, Sergius, manager, 251, 
 
 252. 
 
 Dieu (le) Bleu, ballet drama, 268. 
 Dionysia, dances, sacred to Bac- 
 
 chus, 13. 
 Dip: the; of One-Step, 278; of 
 
 Boston, 285, 286, 287. 
 Duncan, Isadora, dancer. Source 
 
 of inspiration, 1 1. Her artistic 
 
 beliefs, 241 et seq.; early career, 
 
 243 et seq.; influence on ballet, 
 
 246. See also Russian Ballet; 
 
 Expression. 
 
 , 70. 
 
 Egypt, Ancient, dancing in, 4. 
 Egypt, latter-day, dancing in, 209 
 
 et seq. 
 
 Eggs, Dance of (India), 220. 
 Eight, the, figure of One-Step, 279. 
 Elevation, defined, 75. 
 Elizabeth, Queen of England, 48. 
 Ellsler, Fanny, dancer, no et seq. 
 
 In America, 116. Episode lead- 
 
 ing to retirement, 117. Influence, 
 
 228. See also Taglioni. 
 Emmeleia, group of ancient Greek 
 
 dances, II. 
 Enchainementj defined, its function 
 
 in composition, 61. 
 Endymatia, group of ancient Greek 
 
 dances, n, 12. 
 Entrechat, step, used by Camargo, 
 
 60. Execution, 72, 73. Relation 
 
 to ballet costume, 100. Question 
 
 of origin, 146. 
 Ethologues, school of pantomimists, 
 
 16. 
 Expression, abstract, 60, 61. In 
 
 ballet composition, 89, 90, pi. 
 
 Noverre's ideals, 105. Spanish 
 
 Gipsy, 124 et seq. Sevillanas, 
 
 J 38, 139. See also Decoration, 
 
 Composition. St. Denis, 221. 
 Duncan, 243-246. Bakst, 248, 
 249. Russian re-creation of best 
 Greek dramatic form, 251. 
 Extravaganza, 229. 
 
 FANDANGO, the, Spanish dance, 141, 
 142, 154. 
 
 Fantaisie, Fantasia (Arab), 207. 
 
 Farandole, the, French dance, 183. 
 
 Farruca, the, Spanish dance, 127 et 
 seq. 
 
 Fatma, dancer, 199. 
 
 Feet, positions of. Ballet, 66. So- 
 cial dancing, 276. 
 
 Feis, Irish festival, 177-179. 
 
 Feu, la Danse de, see Fuller. 
 
 Fight with Shadow. Ancient 
 Greek dance, 19. 
 
 Flamenco, type of Spanish dance, 
 124 et seq. 
 
 Fling, see Highland Fling. 
 
 Flour Dance, The (Arab), 205. 
 
 Fokine, Mikail, choreographer, 
 teacher, dancer, ballet-master, 
 246. Heads Romantic move- 
 ment, 247. Hypothetical instance 
 of composition, 264. 
 
 Folk-dancing, influences upon it. 
 Place in dancing, etc., 164 et seq. 
 See also Characteristic Dancing. 
 
 Forlana, the, Italian dance, 156 et 
 seq. 
 
 Fouettc, 75, 76. 
 
 France, folk-dances of, 183 et seq. 
 
 Fuller, Loie, dancer, 235 et seq. 
 
 GADITANAE: see Spanish dancing. 
 
 Gaelic League, the, attitude toward 
 dancing, 178. 
 
 Gaillarde, the, court dance, 43, 52, 
 55- 
 
 Galeazzo, Duke of Milan. See de 
 Botta. 
 
 Galli, Rosina, dancer, 314. 
 
 Gardel, Maximilian, dancer. Re- 
 belled against mask, 102. Ex- 
 ample of effect of French Revo- 
 lution, 108. 
 
 Garrotin, the, Spanish dance, 127, 
 134. 
 
 Gautier, Theophile, appreciation of 
 Ellsler, no. 
 
 Gavotte, the, court dance, 52, 53. 
 
 Geltzer, Katarina, dancer, 254. 
 
 Genee, Adeline, instance of virtu- 
 osity, 84. Influence, 239.
 
 330 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Genee, Adeline, re-creations of art 
 of historic dancers, 59. 
 
 Germany, dancing in, 184. 
 
 Geisha, 225. 
 
 Gigue, the, Italian dance, 43, 162. 
 See also Jig. 
 
 Ginsberg, Baron, 252. 
 
 Gipsy, Spanish, type of dancing, 
 124. Pantomime, 125, 126. Re- 
 lation to Spanish dancing, 128 et 
 seq. 
 
 Gitanita, La, dancer, 94 et seq. 
 
 Glazounow, musical composer, 248. 
 
 Glissade, Glisse, 68. 
 
 Gluck, musical composer, 105. 
 
 Grahn, Lucille, dancer, 118. 
 
 Grape-Vine, the, figure of One- 
 Step, 278. 
 
 Greece, ancient, dancing in, 6 et 
 seq. Present day, 189, 190. 
 
 Grisi, Carlotta, dancer, 118. 
 
 Guimard, Madeleine, Dancer, 107. 
 
 Guerrero, Rosario, dancer, influ- 
 ence, 239. 
 
 Guerrero, Rosario, dancer, 139. 
 
 Gustavus III, King of Sweden, in- 
 fluence on dancing, 181. 
 
 Greeting, Dance of (Arab), 202. 
 
 Gymnopaedia, group of ancient 
 Greek dances, n, 12. 
 
 HAMADSHA, Mohammedan observ- 
 ance, 208 et seq. See also Re- 
 ligions. 
 
 Handkerchief Dance, The (Arab), 
 205. 
 
 Harlequin, 157. 
 
 Hazelius, Dr., 180. 
 
 Hebrews, dancing of, 5, 45. 
 
 Henry IV, King of France, 48. 
 
 Henry VIII, King of England, 48. 
 
 Herodias, daughter of, 5. 
 
 Hesitation Waltz, The, social 
 dance: place in modern ball- 
 room, 272; execution, 289, 290, 
 291. 
 
 Highland Fling, the, Scotch dance, 
 167 et seq. 
 
 Hill, Thomas, dancer, 175 et seq. 
 
 Hippoclides, 20. 
 
 Historians, their neglect of danc- 
 ing, 9 et seq. 
 
 Holland, dances of, 182 et seq. 
 
 Horace, 27. 
 
 Hormos, dance of ancient Greece, 
 7- 
 
 Hornpipe, the Sailor's, character- 
 istic dance, 171. 
 
 Hornpipe, the, Irish dance, 174 et 
 
 seq. 
 Hula-Hula, The, Hawaiian dance, 
 
 223. 
 
 Hungary, see Slavonic dances. 
 Hyporchema, group of ancient 
 
 Greek dances, n. 
 
 IAMBIC, dance, sacred to Mars, 13. 
 
 India, dancing in, 218 et seq. See 
 also St. Denis. 
 
 Inns of Court, produced masque, 
 48. 
 
 Ireland, dances of, 174 et seq. 
 
 Italian characteristic dances, de- 
 tails of costume, 159. 
 
 Israel, children of. See Moses. 
 
 JALEO, informal accompaniment. 
 
 Spanish dancing, 126. 
 Jarrett and Palmer, producers, 231. 
 Japan, dancing in, 225 et seq. 
 Javillier, dancer, 108. 
 Jete, 70, 71. Jete tour, j. en tour- 
 
 nant, 71. 
 
 Jeremiah, Book of, 5. 
 Jig, the Irish dance, 174 et seq. 
 John the Baptist. See Herodias, 
 
 daughter of. 
 
 Jones, Inigo, stage decoration, 48. 
 Jonson, Ben, composer of masques, 
 
 48. 
 Jota aragonesa la, Spanish dance, 
 
 124, 150-152. 
 Jota valenciana, la, Spanish dance, 
 
 153- 
 
 Judges, Book of, 5. 
 Julian, Emperor, see Church. 
 Jump, effect of length analysed, 86, 
 
 87. 
 
 KADRILJS, the, Swedish dance, 181. 
 
 Karsavina, Tamar, dancer, 248. 
 
 Kiralfy brothers, dancers, produc- 
 ers, 232 et seq. 
 
 Kolia, ancient Greek dance, 19. 
 
 Kolo, the, Servian dance, 189. 
 
 Kyasht, Lydia, dancer, facing p. 
 247. 
 
 LA GAI, Louise, dancer, definition 
 ballone, 74; in Italian dances, 157 
 et seq. 
 
 Lac (le) des Cygnes, ballet, 268. 
 
 Lany, dancer, 108. 
 
 Le Brun, Father Pierre, see 
 Church. 
 
 Leo X, see Pope.
 
 INDEX 
 
 Lesginka, dance of the Caucasus, 
 217. 
 
 Lou Cue, 37. 
 
 Louis XIII, performer in ballets, 48. 
 
 Louis XIV, see Ballet Academy, 
 French National. 
 
 Lind, Jenny, singer, 118. 
 
 Long, Patrick J., dancer, 176. 
 
 Lopoukowa, Lydia, dancer. Basis 
 of academic training, 89. Sla- 
 vonic dances, 191. Part in Ro- 
 mantic movement, 248. Metro- 
 politan Opera, 254. Describes 
 curriculum Imperial Academy, 
 261 et seq; affected by American 
 conditions, 308, 309. 
 
 Ludiones, 25. 
 
 Lycurgus, regulations and recom- 
 mendations concerning dancing, 
 7,8. 
 
 Lyon, Genevieve, dancer, 274. 
 
 Lyon Chasse, the, figure of Hesita- 
 tion Walts, 290. 
 
 MACCABEES, 5. 
 
 Malaguena (la) y el Torero, Span- 
 ish dance, 143, 144. 
 
 Castanets in la Jota. 
 
 Malaguenas las, Spanish dance, 144. 
 
 Managers, influence on dancing: 
 Chicago World's Fair, 237; Jar- 
 rett and Palmer, The Black 
 Crook, etc., 232 et seq. ; imitators, 
 233. Sergius Diagilew, 251, 252. 
 Public's share in blame for Amer- 
 ican conditions, 305. Exceptional 
 undesirables, 307. Commercial 
 exigencies, 308. 
 
 Manchegas, Spanish dance, 144. 
 
 Mandelkern, Joseph, manager, 248. 
 
 Mary, Queen of Scotland, 169. 
 
 Mascagni, Theodore, dancer, 156. 
 
 Marianas, Spanish dance, 134. 
 
 Mask. Origin, 18 (inference of 
 Mme. L. Nelidow), 249. Persist- 
 ence, 101, 102. 
 
 Masque, early steps and elaboration, 
 36 et seq. 
 
 Matelot, the, Dutch dance, 182. 
 
 Mazurka, the, Russian dance, 190, 
 192. 
 
 Maxixe, the, Brazilian, social dance: 
 place in modern ball-room, 272; 
 execution, 300, 301. 
 
 Media Luna, the, (la Demi-lune}, 
 figure of Argentine Tango, 296. 
 
 Memphitic, group of ancient Greek 
 dances, 15. 
 
 Menestrier, Father, choreographic 
 historian, 29. 
 
 Metropolitan Opera Company. 
 Russian ballet, 254. Relation to 
 music and dancing, 255, 309-314. 
 
 Military training, dance in, 14, 15. 
 
 Minuet, the, 52. M. du Dauphin, 
 M. de la Reine, M. d'Exaudet, M. 
 de la Cour, 57. 
 
 Mirror, figure of Minuet, 57. See 
 also Bavarian. 
 
 Mohammed, see Religions, non- 
 Christian. 
 
 Monteverde, musical composer, 39. 
 
 Moor: see Spanish dancing, also 
 Oriental dancing. 
 
 Morality of dancing, see Church : 
 Religions, non-Christian ; Sex ; 
 Tango. 
 
 Mordkin, Mikail, dancer. Part in 
 Romantic movement, 248. Met- 
 ropolitan Opera, 254. 
 
 Moresca, the, 43. 
 
 Moritas, las, Spanish dance, 134. 
 
 Morra, la, see Tarantella. 
 
 Morris Dances, 172. 
 
 Moses; bids children of Israel 
 dance, 5. 
 
 Mourning, choreographic expression 
 of, Greeks (ancient), 13. Span- 
 ish Gipsies, 126. Arabs, 207. 
 
 Mozarabe, see Church. 
 
 Mozart, musical composer, collab- 
 orated with Noverre, 106. 
 
 Municipal ballets, 6, 8. 
 
 Murray Anderson Turn, the, fig- 
 ure of One-Step, 281. 
 
 Music, analogy to, see Expression. 
 
 NAGEL, Fred, dancer, 188. 
 
 Nagel, Mrs. Fred, dancer, 188. 
 
 Napoleon (Emperor), ballet in 
 Egypt, 109. 
 
 Naturalism, consideration of. See 
 Ballet, Classic. 
 
 Nautch Dance (India), 221. 
 
 Nemours, Duke of, Ballet of Gouty, 
 49. 
 
 Nicpmedes, mother a dancer, 8. 
 
 Nijinski, Waslaw, dancer, 247, 248. 
 
 Noblet, dancer, 109. 
 
 Noverre, M., ballet-master. Re- 
 forms in Frenc'h ballet, 103. Col- 
 laboration with Gluck, 105. Bal- 
 let compositions, 106. 
 
 OBERTASS, the, Polish dance, 192. 
 Oiseau (le) de Feu, ballet drama, 
 268.
 
 332 
 
 INDEX 
 
 One-step, the, social dance. Direc- 
 tions for execution, 277-283 inch 
 
 Opera, ballet's place in, 118, 119. 
 See also Metropolitan Opera. 
 
 Otero, dancer, 139, 239. 
 
 Otero, Jose, teacher, writer on 
 Spanish dancing, 124. 
 
 Oriental dancing : distinguished 
 from Occidental, 213-215. See 
 also St. Denis, Composition. 
 
 Ostrander, H. C, traveller, 208, 217. 
 
 PAS de Cheval, 85. 
 
 Pas de Chat, 85. 
 
 Pas de Basque (step), 74, 75. 
 
 Pay de Bourree (step), 74. 
 
 Passecaille, the, court dance, 52. 
 
 Passepied, the, court dance, 52. 
 
 Pantomime, distinguished from ab- 
 stract expression, 62 et seq. 
 Noverre, 107. Spanish Gipsy, 
 125. Arabic, 200 et seq. Greek, 
 249, 250. Rome, 250. Augustin 
 Daly's interest in, 306. See also 
 Expression. 
 
 Pantalone, Doctor, 157. 
 
 Panaderos, los, Spanish dance, 149. 
 
 Payane, the, court dance, 43, 56; 
 influence on social dancing of to- 
 day, 271. 
 
 Pavilion (le) d'Armide, 268. 
 
 Pavlowa, Anna, dancer ; academic 
 discipline, 89. Instance of vir- 
 tuosity, 92. Part in Romantic 
 movement, 248. Metropolitan, 
 Opera, 254. Expression as to 
 tendency of ball-room dancing, 
 303. Canadian Royal Opera 
 Company, 314. 
 
 Perchtentanz of Salzburg, 184, 185, 
 186. 
 
 Philip of Macedon, wife a dancer, 
 8. 
 
 Pirouette, defined, 76, 79. Fouette 
 P-, 76, 77; variations, 78. P. sur 
 le Cou-de-pied, 79, 80; P. com- 
 posees, Si. 
 
 Pito, finger-snapping, accompani- 
 ment Spanish dancing, 131. 
 
 Plato, his valuation of dancing, 4, 
 
 Plie, 75, 76. 
 
 Pique tour, 89. 
 
 Pointe, stir la: in ancient Greece, 
 88; erroneous ideas concerning, 
 93 ; instances of, barefoot, 93, 94. 
 
 Poland, see Slavonic dances. 
 
 Polka, the, 181. 
 
 Pirouette, 76-81, 83. 
 
 Pope Alexander VI. 
 
 Pope Eugenius IV, 31. 
 
 Pope Leo X, 45. 
 
 Pope Sixtus IV, 45. 
 
 Pope Zacharias, 32. 
 
 Prince Igor, ballet drama, 266. 
 
 Prevpst, Franchise, dancer, 49. 
 
 Public (American) in relation to 
 
 dancing, 229, 232, 233, 269, 304 
 
 et seq. 
 
 Pylades, 25 et seq. 
 Pyrrhic, group of ancient Greek 
 
 dances, 15. 
 
 QUADRILLE, see Contredanse. 
 
 RAPHAEL, stage decorations, 44. 
 
 Rasch, Albertina, dancer, 314. 
 
 Reel, the, Irish dance, 174 et seq. 
 
 Reel, the, Scotch dance, 170. 
 
 Reel of Tulloch, the, Scotch dance, 
 170. 
 
 Releve, 69, 70. 
 
 Religions, non-Christian, Greek, 6 
 et seq. 
 
 Religions, non-Christian, relation to 
 dancing. Egyptian, 4. Greek, 4, 
 II et seq. Roman, 24, 25. Mo- 
 hammedan, 196 et seq. Der- 
 vishes, 216. Hamadsha, 208 et 
 seq. India, 224. 
 
 Rene, King of Provence, 36. 
 
 Renverse, its aesthetic significance, 
 61. 
 
 Revolution, French, effect on danc- 
 ing, 1 08. 
 
 Riario, Cardinal, composed ballet, 
 .45- 
 
 Richelieu, Cardinal, composer bal- 
 let, 49. 
 
 Rimski-Korsakow, musical com- 
 poser, 248. 
 
 Rincce Fadha, the, early Irish 
 dance, 177. 
 
 Roger (Sir) de Coverley, the, 
 English dance, 177. 
 
 Rome, dance in, 22 et seq. 
 
 Romantic Revolution, the Russian. 
 See Russian Ballet. 
 
 Romeo, Angelo, dancer, 80. 
 
 Rond de Jambe, 81. 
 
 Rose and the Dagger, The, panto- 
 mime, 139. 
 
 Russian Ballet, for comparison, see 
 also Ballet, Classic. 
 
 Russia, characteristic dances, see 
 Slavonic dances.
 
 INDEX 
 
 333 
 
 Russia, Court Dance of, 195. 
 
 Russian Ballet. One field of its 
 new material, 58. Artistic sanity, 
 99. Isadora Duncan- influence, 
 241-247. Re-creates best of Greek 
 drama, 251. Plavs in Paris, 252. 
 Metropolitan Opera, 254. Mis- 
 representative appearances, 255. 
 Relation to Imperial Academy, 
 257 et seq. Compared with Clas- 
 sic, 263. Scope, 266-268. Influ- 
 ence on social dancing, 269, 270. 
 See also Ballet, Classic. 
 
 Russian (Imperial) Ballet Acade- 
 my: favored ward of govern- 
 ment, 245 ; conditions of entrance, 
 257, 258; disposal of pupils, 258, 
 259 ; curriculum, 259-261 ; care of 
 pupils, 262; synopsis of history, 
 262, 263. Influence of Roman- 
 ticism, 263-266. 
 
 SAILOR'S Hornpipe, see Hornpipe. 
 
 St. Basil, dance in his Epistle to St. 
 Gregory, 30. See also Church. 
 
 St. Carlo Borromeo, canonisation 
 of, 35 et seq. 
 
 St. Denis, Ruth, dancer. Influence, 
 199. Cobra dance, 220. Her con- 
 tribution to art, 221, 222, 223. 
 
 St. Isidore, choreographic composer, 
 see Church. 
 
 Salic priests, 24. 
 
 Salle, de, Marie, dancer, 49. 
 
 Sallust, observations, 27. 
 
 Saltarello, the, Italian dance, 43, 
 163. 
 
 Samuel, Book of, 5. 
 
 Saraband, the, court dance, 52, 54. 
 
 Saracco-Brignole, Elise, dancer, 
 teacher, 156. 
 
 Saracco, George, dancer, ballet- 
 master, 233. 
 
 Serpentine, see Fuller. 
 
 Saturnalia, dances of ancient Rome, 
 
 25- 
 
 Scandinavian, dances of, 180 ct seq. 
 Scissors, the (las Tijeras, les 
 
 Ciseaux), figure of Argentine 
 
 Tango, 295, 296. 
 Scheherazade, ballet drama : Voli- 
 
 nine in, 86; in character, 268. 
 Scotch Reel, the, see Reel. 
 Seguidillas, type of Spanish dance, 
 
 136, 141, 144. 
 
 Seises of Seville, see Church. 
 Seville Cathedral, see Church. 
 
 Sevillanas, las, Spanish dance, 136- 
 140 incl. Instance of a competi- 
 tion, 94. 
 
 Sex, dance in relation to, 8, 24. 
 Ellsler and Camargo contrasted, 
 1 10, in, 115. Spanish Classic 
 and Flamenco contrasted, 128. 
 Chicago World's Fair, 199, 238. 
 Arabian Handkerchief Dance, 
 205. One manager's belief, 239. 
 
 Siciliana, the, Italian dance, 43, 163. 
 
 Sikinnis. Ancient Greek dance, 20. 
 
 Simplicity, Greek and Roman com- 
 pared, 22 et seq. 
 
 Sixtus IV, see Pope. 
 
 Schuhplatteltanz of Bavaria, 187 et 
 seq. 
 
 Shean Treuse, the, Scotch dance, 
 I7i. 
 
 Shiloh, daughters of. See Judges. 
 
 Skansen, the, 180. 
 
 Skralat, the, Swedish dance, 181. 
 
 Slavonic dances, 190 et seq. 
 
 Socrates, 8. 
 
 Soleares, las, Spanish dance, 152. 
 
 Sophocles, 8. 
 
 Spanish dancing costume, details 
 of, 135, 142, 143, 149, 153. 
 
 Spanish dancing, its place in 
 history: Carthaginian province, 
 Roman entertainment, 121 ; Moor- 
 ish influence, 122: Century of 
 
 /""* 1i 
 
 Gold, 122. 
 
 Spanish put in Rome. 
 
 Spear, ancient Greek dance of, 19. 
 
 Spectre (le) de la Rose, ballet 
 drama, 268. 
 
 Square, the, figure of One-Step, 
 279. 
 
 Spilled Meal, dance of, 19. 
 
 Staats, Leo, dancer, ballet-master, 
 80. 
 
 Steps, classes of, definition of, 67, 
 68. 
 
 Stoige, Otto, see Pirouette. 
 
 Strathspey, the Scotch dance, 171. 
 
 Style, ballet, some elements of, 91, 
 92, 93, 96, 97. Russian and Clas- 
 sic compared, 263-266. 
 
 Sur la pointe, les pointes, position, 
 aesthetic significance, 61. In an- 
 cient Greece, 88. 
 
 Sweden, dances of, 180 et seq. 
 
 Sword Dance (Scotch), the, 167. 
 
 Sword Dance (Turkish), 216. 
 
 Sylphide, la, ballet, 116. 
 
 Sylphides, les, ballet, 268. 
 
 Szolo, the, Hungarian dance, 193.
 
 334 
 
 INDEX 
 
 TABOUROT, Jehan. See Arbeau. 
 
 Taglioni, Marie, dancer, contributor 
 to ballet steps, 58, 112. Refer- 
 ence by Thackeray, no. Indi- 
 viduality, in. Rivalry with Ells- 
 ler, 114 et seq. Performance for 
 Queen Victoria, 118. Influence, 
 228. 
 
 Tango, the, Spanish dance, 127 et 
 seq. 
 
 Tango, The Argentine, social 
 dance : history, 271 ; progress 
 hampered by its varied execution, 
 275 ; moral aspect, 291, 292, 293 ; 
 execution, 294-300. 
 
 Tarantella, the, Italian dance, 158. 
 
 Tcherepnin, musical composer, 248. 
 
 Temps, definition, 67. 
 
 Tencita, dancer, 154. 
 
 Time markers, 17. See also Casta- 
 nets. 
 
 Toe-dancing. See pointe, sur. 
 
 Tordion, the, court dance, 52, 54. 
 
 Toreo Espanol, Spanish dance, 155. 
 
 Tour, see Pirouette. 
 
 Tourists, dancing for. Tangier, 
 etc., 205. Egypt, 210. 
 
 Treaty, Anglo-French concerning 
 dancers' contracts, 109. 
 
 Tulloch, see Reel. 
 
 Turkey, dancing in, 216. 
 
 Turkey Trot, The, see One-Step. 
 
 Turn, the, of One- Step, 277. 
 
 VAFVA Vadna, the, Swedish dance, 
 181. 
 
 Vestris, Auguste, dancer, 102. 
 
 Vestris, Gaetan, dancer, teacher, 
 102. 
 
 Victoria (Queen) influence on dan- 
 cing, 118. 
 
 Vingakersdans, the, Swedish dance, 
 182. 
 
 Virginia Reel, the, American dance, 
 
 177- 
 
 Vito, el, Spanish dance, 155. 
 Volinine, Alexander ; instance of 
 
 virtuosity, 86; academic basis, 89; 
 
 part in Romantic movement, 248. 
 
 Metropolitan Opera, 254. 
 Volte, the, court dance, 52. 
 Volteo, el, figure of Argentine 
 
 Tango, 300. 
 
 WALK, the (el paseo, le prome- 
 nade) figure of Argentine Tango, 
 294. 
 
 Waltz, the. Probable origin, 75. 
 Universality, 183. The Rhein- 
 lander Waltz, 188. See also Bos- 
 ton; Hesitation Waltz. 
 
 White Fawn, The, ballet spectacle, 
 233- 
 
 World's Fair, Chicago, 238. 
 
 ZAMBELLI, Carlotta, dancer, 78. 
 Zarabanda, the, old Spanish dance, 
 
 122. See also Saraband. 
 Zourna, dancer, 199 et seq.
 
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