Tag Archives: anna pavlova

Pinning the Sylph

22 Oct

This entry’s dedicatees are the wonderful Bag Ladies of The Ballet Bag, who have truly helped make my blog the…whatever it is today.  It’s thanks to them that I’ve been able to increase readership and reach new audiences, at a time when I had no idea what I was doing…and look at me now!  Five readers!  Just kidding…I know there are more of you and I appreciate each and every click of a link that brings you here, but to the Bag Ladies go the heartiest thanks.  They were among the first to believe that something worthwhile is written here, and this is but a small token of appreciation.  Much obliged, Ladies…much obliged.

The Bag Ladies requested I do some more “detective work” like I did for the Black Swan grand pas de deux.  If you recall, it was a mess of information on the different variations, where they came from and a ‘where are they now?’ sort of deal.  At first I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to find another ballet mystery I would be able to research, but lo and behold one day it revealed itself to me—Les Sylphides.  In short, Les Sylphides is also a catastrophe.  At least for the Black Swan pas de deux, there was some logic behind substitutions that were made but there’s a lot to the history of Les Sylphides that doesn’t really make sense…like why is it sometimes called Chopiniana?  Tracing the lineage of this ballet is literally like collecting butterflies…we have to gather samples of the same species, note minute differences and determine whether any of it is significant or not.  So join me as I make a fool’s attempt at the Darwinian task of pinning sylphs and mounting them for display (a disturbing image, is it not?).

Library books in tow, my first order of business was analyzing the title.  The story  goes that when Michel Fokine originally choreographed the ballet for a charity performance at the Maryinsky Theatre, the title was indeed Chopiniana.  However, this ballet was set to a completely different selection of Chopin orchestrations by Alexander Glazunov, with the Waltz in C Sharp Minor Op.64 No.2 (trust me, you’re going to want to know the numbers) being a later addition, and pretty much the only piece from Chopiniana that survives in modern productions of Les Sylphides today.  Wait for it…Chopiniana had an entirely different theme!  Different theme, different music, different title…I’m pretty sure this constitutes a different ballet.  For this reason I would argue that Chopiniana refers to Fokine’s original character ballet, which is most assuredly lost (it is ballet history after all).  However, in his memoirs Fokine does provide some details about Chopiniana, which I shall quote below:

Polonaise in A, Op.40 No.1 -In gorgeous costumes, a large ensemble performed Polish ballroom dances

Nocturne in F Major, Op.15 No.1 –The curtain opens disclosing Chopin sitting at the piano in a monastery on the island of Majorca, where during the night, the ill composer suffers nightmarish hallucinations.  He sees dead monks rising from their graves and slowly approaching him to the accompaniment of a monotonously beaten rain.  Frightened, he rushes away from the piano, trying to seek safety from the horrible visions.  He finds salvation in his Muse.  Again he sits at the piano and finds calm in the sounds of the Nocturne.

Mazurka in C Sharp Minor, Op.50 No.3 –(A wedding in a Polish village)  An unfortunate girl is being married to an elderly man whom she does not love.  In the course of the general dancing, her beloved finds his way to her.  As a result of his passionate pleas, she throws the wedding ring at the unwanted suitor and flees with her beloved.

Waltz in C Sharp Minor, Op.64 No.2 –Hi, it’s me, Steve here and Fokine doesn’t describe the waltz in the manner that he did the other dances, only that it had Anna Pavlova (in a Taglioni costume, a la La Sylphide) and Michael Oboukhov (in a “very romantic black velvet costume” from the ballet Fairy Doll) dancing a pas de deux with “choreography [that] differed from all other pas de deux in its total absence of spectacular feats.”  Fokine goes on to describe the choreography that had “not a single entrechat, turn in the air or pirouette.  There was a slow turn of the ballerina, holding her partner’s hand, but this could not be classified as a pirouette because the movement was not confined to the turn but was used for a change of position and grouping.”  This sounds about in line with the Waltz we see in Les Sylphides today, but I can’t say for sure if it’s actually the same.

Tarantelle Op.43 –This was performed by Vera Fokina assisted by a large ensemble.  I tried to project the authentic character of the national dances which Vera and I had observed on our trip to Italy, when we studied them in detail on the island of Capri.

As you can see, Chopiniana was a plotless ballet in five tableaux, most of them depicting character dances, except for the Waltz.  So what does this mean?  For now, just remember three things: character dances, Alexander Glazunov orchestration, and it was performed by students at the Maryinsky.

Following is a video recording of the Russian National Orchestra performing Chopiniana, however this footage doesn’t contain the Polonaise and actually the order appears to be messed up (as if this wasn’t all confusing enough already) but for the record, the orchestra is playing Mazurka-Waltz-Tarantelle-Nocturne.  The order I have listed above is the official order of Chopiniana.

Things get messy the following year…in 1908, according to one text I have, Chopiniana was danced again at a Maryinsky benefit, under the title of Dances to Music by Chopin.  In 1909, a new version was performed, entitled Grand Pas to Music by Chopin.  I’m not entirely sure, but by conglomerating information from several books, I believe this would be the same ballet Fokine refers to as Second Chopiniana or Reverie Romantique in his memoirs, and thus the prototype of Les Sylphides. Second Chopiniana had a new set of Chopin pieces for the score, orchestrated by Maurice Keller, while also retaining Glazunov’s orchestrated Waltz.  Fokine mentions a pretty funny story regarding the Waltz, which actually has an Etude in C Sharp Minor as the introduction.  This didn’t go well with one of the Maryinsky singers, Ivan Ershov (also a faculty member of the Conservatory of Music), who overheard it while walking by and threw a hissy fit in the middle of one of Fokine’s rehearsals.

“What are they doing?  What are they doing, these ballet people?” he began to yell in colorful tenor.  “They are combining an Etude with a Waltz!”

I always find it funny when musicians are so disagreeable when it comes to ballet…but even funnier was Fokine’s response:

“Ivan Vasilievich, this was not done by the ballet people.  Your director, Alexander Konstantinovich Glazounov, has combined the Etude and the Waltz.  Go across the street”—the Conservatory of Music was located just across the street from the Maryinsky Theater—“and yell there.  And we will resume our rehearsal as soon as you leave.”

Oh Fokine…you tell him!

Anyway, from what I’m reading, this version actually had Chopin’s Polonaise in A, Op.40 No.1 too, but as an overture.  Here is the full listing of Chopin pieces used, and if I’m reading his memoirs correctly, the “glorious” cast who performed in the 1908 premiere at the Maryinsky (though don’t quote me on this):

Polonaise in A, Op.40 No.1 (overture)

Prelude in A, Op.28 No.7

Nocturne in A Flat Major, Op.32 No.2

Waltz in G Flat, Op.70 No.1

*Mazurka in C, Op.33 No.3 –Vaslav Nijinsky

Prelude in A, Op.28 No.7 –Olga Preobajenska

*Mazurka in D, Op.33 No.2 –Anna Pavlova

Waltz in C Sharp Minor, Op.64 No.2 –Tamara Karsavina

Waltz in E Flat, Op.18 No.1 ‘Grand Valse Brillante’

Now there’s a reason why the Mazurkas are starred.  For the woman’s Mazurka (danced by Pavlova), some productions today use the order goes as it is above, but in others the Mazurka comes after the first Waltz.  I couldn’t find any information as to why this is, and I’ll get to the man’s Mazurka later but I list the order above because the one film I could find of Les Sylphides that actually uses the Polonaise overture is a 1958 film of the Maryinsky.  So I’m assuming, without concrete evidence that the Maryinsky version is closest to what debuted in 1908.

“Second” Chopiniana (in three parts)

So you would think, Les Sylphides pretty much has it together, right?  Silly mortal…you’d be very wrong.  Les Sylphides officially earned its title from Diaghilev, when it premiered in 1909 at the Théâtre du Châtelet, performed by Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes (much of the cast from above was the same, except with Alexandra Baldina instead of Preobajenska).  Diaghilev purposely named it Les Sylphides to recall Marie Taglioni and La Sylphide, and there were even more changes to the orchestrations.  The newly orchestrated score is credited to Glazunov, Igor Stravinsky, Sergei Taneyev, Anatole Liadov, Nicholas Tcherepnine and Nicolas Sokolov.  At this point, I have such a headache trying to sort this out I don’t WANT to know what’s different.  I could spend hours listening to actual scores and seeing if I can decipher any differences in the counter melodies, but I already drove myself to the brink of insanity trying to work on the man’s Mazurka, for you see, some productions use Mazurka in C, Op.33 No.3 and others use Mazurka in C, Op.67 No.3 and I was trying to find video of it and had a surprisingly difficult time of separating them.  The major companies I could find (Kirov, Bolshoi, Royal Ballet, ABT) all used Op.33 No.3.  The only example I could find of Op.67 No.3 was this excerpt of the poet’s solo:

You could compare them for yourself, but it’s maddening.

Now as for that heinous mess of a score, according to a copy I borrowed of the piano music, this was the order as presented by Colonel W. de Basil’s Ballet Company at the Royal Opera House:

Prelude in A, Op.28 No.7

Nocturne in A Flat Major, Op.32 No.2

Waltz in G Flat, Op.70 No.1

Mazurka in D, Op.33 No.2

Mazurka in C, Op.33 No.3

Prelude in A, Op.28 No.7

Waltz in C Sharp Minor, Op.64 No.2

Waltz in E Flat, Op.18 No.1 ‘Grand Valse Brillante’

Notice the Polonaise is gone and that the placement of the Mazurka in D (the woman’s Mazurka) is also different.  The Prelude serves as a new overture, and the above arrangement can be heard in this performance by The Royal Ballet, with Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev in three parts:

*A Roy Douglas is credited with the arrangement…I’m going to bury my head in the sand for that one.

Well, this isn’t an exhaustive history, but I’m certainly exhausted by thinking about it.  Regardless of the finer details, after watching many (too many) videos of Les Sylphides, what I love about this signature Fokine ballet is how unpretentious it is…it requires the art of subtlety because there are so few virtuosic movements to inspire the typical audience response.  Fokine discusses this in his memoirs, in that he wasn’t looking to please the audience at all, in fact one of his goals with the piece was to prove he understood and could indeed choreograph classical dancing on pointe!  Fokine had some interesting thoughts on Nijinsky dancing the role of the poet, telling him not to admire himself and to simply admire the beauty of the Sylphs around him…but for more on that you’d have to read his memoirs, and speaking of the books that may or may not have been used in research for this post (I honestly can’t remember what bits of information came from what) here’s a list:

The Art of Enchantment, by Nancy Van Norman Baer & others

Birth of Ballets-Russes, by Prince Peter Lieven and translated by L. Zarine

Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes, by Boris Kochno

Memoirs of a Ballet Master, written by Michel Fokine and translated by Vera Fokina

Michel Fokine, by Dawn Lille Horwitz

And just for giggles, here are other productions of Les Sylphides by the Bolshoi and Kirov that I watched in researching for this entry.  They didn’t really contribute much…but it was either that or hit the books again!

Les Sylphides, as performed by the Bolshoi in three parts:

Les Sylphides, as performed by the Kirov in four parts:

Photography by John Ross

27 Jun

You can’t call yourself a true blue ballet zealot until you require that it infiltrate the décor of your home.  After all, fans of dance tend to have an eye for shape, color, movement and harmony (or discord if that’s your preference).  Such qualities can also be seen in interior design and I figured…ABSOLUTELY.  So in order to sate the beasty mcbeast, I turned to photographer John Ross, who has several galleries for your perusal (link at ballet.co).  I was excited to see that prints were available for purchase so I contacted Mr. Ross and after much deliberation selected a couple of photos that appealed to my senses.

Take a gander!

I don't normally display phoos on easels by the way...it's going to go on the wall!

At this point I figured I’ve made my preferences somewhat predictable so I hope that it comes as no surprise that one of the photos I picked was from Symphonic Variations.  There are so many wonderful, picturesque moments from the ballet and Mr. Ross even has picture sets from two different performances.  It was hard to decide but ultimately I went with something that was visually dramatic but technically simple.  It has the three women and one male dancer linking hands, with the women en pointe in fourth position, heads tilted just a romantic itsy-bit.  The photo is a lovely close-up so many of the costume details, hair accessories and the minor fact that the picture was taken a split second before the dancer on the far left actually had any weight on her front foot are easily seen (especially when you buy a 12” x 16” enlargement!).  As striking as the photograph is by itself, it’s like a ballerina without a partner in a pas de deux…it needs framing.  Furthermore, I am of the school of thought that matting is a must.  When the question is “to matte or not to matte?” go with the latter.  Not only does such fine photography deserve it, but matting is a perfect opportunity to enhance visual interest.  I purchased pre-cut, double layered matting that was white on top with a black layer underneath and paired with the wide black frame, it echoes the design of the man’s costume.

Now a picture may be worth a thousand words, but a room needs a thousand and six.  I paired the photo with a curtain from Anthropologie, the store where the trendy woman’s mantra apparently becomes “resistance is futile.”  I have never purchased anything from said store…nevertheless I was most astonishingly inspired by that curtain.  In reality it’s a shower curtain but I’m taking it upon myself to use it as a portiere for a storage closet that is without a door.  Unfortunately it’s not sold in US stores anymore but they can be nabbed on ebay for significantly discounted prices.  It’s called “Knotted Vines,” but it should really be called the “Symphonic Variations” curtain because the design has the same sort of sweeping movement and greenish-gold coloring of the backdrop.  That’s probably why I was attracted to it in the first place and although green, yellow and gray are not colors I normally gravitate towards (I have a weird thing where artificial greens never look right to me…I prefer natural greens in plants, like those that can be seen outside my abnormally shaped window in the background), the it just works for me.  One photo is never enough though…

A cooler color pallette...

Here we see a couple of things…a super-cute poster sent to me by the Bag Ladies of The Ballet Bag for playing ballet mad-libs and the other photo I purchased of Tamara Rojo and Federico Bonelli (BoBo) in Jerome Robbins’s Dances at a Gathering.  Of course I had to have some Rojo adorning my walls; I’ve recently begun Secret Muses: The Life of Frederick Ashton and the first few pages discuss how inspired Ashton was as a little boy when he saw legendary ballerina Anna Pavlova on stage and it immediately reminded me of the way I felt when I saw Rojo dance Manon (the anniversary of which was yesterday!).  Her dancing (and the Royal Ballet) completely changes the way I saw dance and I guess that makes her my muse in a way.  Coincidentally (well, not really) I stayed in the same sort of era with this second photo and again went for something technically simple but visually dramatic, with Rojo in arabesque and BoBo in a forward extension (développé croisé devant?  I’m awful with the direction words and such).  It’s hard to see in the above photograph, but the background is a dark blue and her costume is lavender, which I like with the periwinkle blues of The Ballet Bag poster and as Stacy London of What Not to Wear would say, the “pop of color” with the contrasting orange.  I really loved the simplicity of line and the connection between Rojo and BoBo’s faces—it’s a very subtle electricity and really breathes life into the photo.  The frame and matting are the same (I purchased them at Aaron Brothers in downtown Seattle) as the store was having a sale of “buy one get one for a penny.”  Perfect!

The only thing missing is a third photo of Balanchine’s Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux to complete my neoclassical triad, but I couldn’t find a picture of the Royal Ballet performing it in the galleries so I’ll have to put that dream on hold (there are a few of the Mariinsky, but Russian dancers’ performances of it have often left me unsatisfied so it just wouldn’t feel right).  At any rate, I am beyond thrilled and satisfied with my purchases from Mr. Ross so if anyone’s interested in his photography, do send him an e-mail!  My experiences were A+ and he offers multiple sizes of prints for excellent prices.  He is based in the UK, but has a son in California so US buyers can pay by check in US dollars and avoid the hassle of dealing with foreign currency or additional bank fees.  It couldn’t be easier to add beautiful ballet photography to your home and support another artist along the way.  Do it!