Foundations

Two Trends

The third in a series of articles tracing the historic convergence of people and ideas that culminated in the cataclysmic 1913 premiere of Le Sacre du Printemps, and exploring the impact of that revolution today.

Previous Installments:
I. "Two Characters in the Cast: Serge Diaghilev and Igor Stravinsky"
II. "Enter Emile Jaques-Dalcroze"

Trends toward 1910

Themes, innovations, and inspiration rarely arise from a vacuum, like Athena springing forth from Zeus’ head. Instead, ideas move through cultures like overlapping brushes of watercolor, effecting others and being changed by them in return.

Many common themes, ideas and (dare we say) “fashions” were flowing through the arts in Europe and the United States around the turn of the 20th century. (I’ve written in the past of the “Greek Revival” and the toga fashion!) Here we’ll continue our story by focusing on two such trends in particular:

   1. Interest in the physical body and movement
   2. Interest in fusing art forms
 
Interest in the physical body and movement

The turn of the century saw great interest in various things physical – some new, some old, and some developments or resurgences of old concepts. For example, the Olympic Games resumed in 1896; Isadora Duncan opened her Berlin School in 1904 (the same year dancer Ruth St. Denis famously saw the cigarette ad depicting Isis, inspiring her solo “Radha” and much beyond); and Bernarr MacFadden was popularizing his “Physical Culture” in the United States.  

(While MacFadden’s principles were sound, some of the content of his publications is hilarious today. He’s quoted in Advice from the Attic, especially his essay insultingly titled “Ugliness is a Sin!”)

Along the same lines, Emile Jaques-Dalcroze was merging movement with his other innovations in music education. In 1905, he wrote:

There remains the element of rhythm, which is also of the highest importance. Analogous to absolute pitch we may find an instinctive feeling for rhythm, which may be awakened and developed by practice.

The gift of musical rhythm is not a mere mental affair; it is physical in essence… [W]e regard it as the reflex of instinctive corporal movements, and as dependent on the gait, balance and general harmony of those movements.¹

He began presenting public demonstrations of his teaching techniques in Switzerland in 1903, taking them to other countries by 1904. His students impressed audiences with advanced skills involving movement, improvisation, sightsinging, quick reactions, rapid memorization, and more. Jaques-Dalcroze’s own skills and personality made these presentations successful, as well – his humorous ways of establishing rapport with an audience, his prowess at improvising at the piano (like today’s “comedy improv,” he took pitches and themes from audience members as subjects for fugues that his students then embodied in movement), and his ability to articulate the philosophy of his educational work and its broader meaning, all made an impact. 

These demonstrations attracted more students, and the techniques became applied to children, as well. Jaques-Dalcroze was independent in these endeavors, renting space in Geneva, since the conservatory rejected requests for adequate facilities (citing pragmatic concerns, and then admitting discomfort with the revealing nature of the toga-type attire for the classes – and by “revealing,” we mean revealing such risqué things as arms and legs)!

The public was ready for this work, and fascinated by it. Jaques-Dalcroze was already well-known and beloved as a composer in Switzerland, particularly for his numerous simple songs capturing the lives, spirit, and environment of the Swiss people.  As one illustration of his esteem, he was commissioned to compose the large-scale Festival vaudois in 1903, involving five acts and 2500 participants! (Yes, those were just the performers – the audience numbered at least 18,000.)  

Wider recognition in other countries came not only from his teaching demonstrations. His opera Le Bonhomme Jadis premiered in Berlin before performances in Paris, in 1906. And in that same year, the five parts of his “Method” were published.

So Jaques-Dalcroze was well-established, merging music and movement in his own ways, by the time Sergei Diaghilev was beginning to consider adding ballet to the Russian music he was touring through Europe. As mentioned in the first article in this series, Diaghilev began his career by exhibiting Russian art in cities such as Paris, Berlin and Vienna, and then shifted his focus to music in 1907 and 1908.

In planning for the 1909 Paris season, artist and friend Alexandre Benois suggested that Diaghilev include Russian ballet, as well. Diaghilev later wrote:

From opera to ballet is but a step. At that time there were more than 400 ballet dancers on the roster of the Imperial Theatres. They all had a remarkably good training, and they danced the traditional classical ballets…. All these ballets I was very familiar with, having been attached to the Director of the Imperial Theatres for two years or so. ²

He made grand plans, until the death of his patron, Grand Duke Vladimir (uncle of the Tsar) pulled the financial rug out from under him. Private support enabled him to produce a curtailed program, with one act each from Ruslan and Ludmilla and Prince Igor (choreographed by Fokine), along with the ballets Le Pavillon d’Armide, An Egyptian Night (changed to Cleopatra), Le Festin, and Chopiniana (changed to Les Sylphides). The latter was Stravinsky’s first commission from Diaghilev – orchestration of the opening Nocturne and final Valse brilliante.

Even in the program’s reduced form, ballet made up a large portion of the concerts. Thanks to Tchiakovsky, ballet had gained the respect of musicians (Diaghilev’s opinions aside!). Stravinsky was an admirer of both Tchiakovsky and Fokine, and was pleased to accept Diaghilev’s commission.

Diaghilev, never one to stand back too far, got involved. With the exception of Le Festin, which was quickly pieced together out of bits of Petipa works, the ballets were not given in their original form (even though they were relatively new). Diaghilev revised the story, design, and of course, the music of Chopiniana, and changed the title to Les Sylphides. An Egyptian Night was renamed Cleopatra, and its music was drastically altered – Diaghilev replaced sections of Arensky’s original score with pieces from operas by Glinka, Mussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Tanayev, a bacchanale from Glazunov’s ballet, The Seasons, and a new finale by Tcherepnin. (Only his old friend, “Valetchka” Fedorovitch Nouvel, found this motley score a bit odd; or perhaps his was just the only such opinion offered on the record.)

Regard for ballet in Paris at the time was still low -- so low that the Paris Opera rejected the program! Diaghilev booked the Theatre Chatelet instead, and the season was successful (especially Cleopatra, which fits with other fashionable themes of the era).
 

Interest in Fusing Art Forms

Diaghilev looked ahead to the 1910 season with thoughts about a new concept in ballet -- a progressive merging of art forms. He was well familiar with new trends in Russian art and music, and among the new generation of dancers, he sensed a restlessness -- perhaps an eagerness for new developments in ballet. He envisioned a synthesis of the arts – rather like Wagner’s Gesamtkunstwerk, but using ballet rather than opera as the primary medium (and involving contemporary creativity, not revamping old ballets).

Here too, Jaques-Dalcroze was a bit ahead of the curve. His teaching, public demonstrations, and written philosophy always involved both solfege and movement in an interconnected educational process. He broke down walls between eartraining, singing, movement, music reading, improvisation, choreography, analysis, instrumental performance, and more – connecting them as various experiences of one thing: music. For him, the body was a profound instrument.

The notion of plastique corporelle, or plastique animee, brought another level to the work – a level related to performance. Here the communicative aspects of the arts took form. Rather than functioning only as a vehicle for inner experience among students, the Method gave birth to its own performance medium in plastique animee. Approaching these studies with the goal of performance involves another layer – a focus on the visual experience of the audience. Jaques-Dalcroze’s association with Adoph Appia brought him new insight into the possibilities for stage space, set design, and choreographic dynamics.
 

1910

Let’s end with a look at what our three characters were doing in the year 1910.

Jaques-Dalcroze moved to a new and significant venue: his institute in Hellerau. Traveling with him was a young protégé -- a dancer named Miriam Ramberg.

Igor Stravinsky had postponed composing his short opera Le Rossignol in order to accept a commission from Diaghilev to compose the score for a new ballet, l’Oiseau de Feu (The Firebird).

Diaghilev, meanwhile, was involved in an intense relationship with a young dancer in his Ballet Russes: Vaslav Nijinsky.

Next time: An introduction to two very different dancers: Miriam Ramberg (hint: Marie Rambert) and Vaslav Nijinsky.

___________

1. Emile Jaques-Dalcroze, “The Reform of Music Teaching,” in Rhythm, Music and Education (London: The Dalcroze Society, reprint edition, 1980) p. 31

2. Serge Lifar, Serge Diaghilev: His Life, His Work, His Legend (NY: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1940) p. 129