No Speed Bumps

Revealing the 1909-1912 Period of the Ballets Russes

  

Recently, I came across the most extraordinary footage.

It is of Ida Rubinstein acting, but more importantly dancing, in an extended way in the 1921 Italian film ‘La Nave’, which was based on Gabriele D'Annunzio's 1908 drama about the founding of Venice.

Often such legendary figures disappoint when revealed at last on film, but this is not at all the case here.

Rubinstein gives the strongest impression of the perfumed oriental Art Nouveau  exoticism of the early period Ballets Russes of 1909 to 1912.

And who better to do so. She had appeared in the title role the company’s ‘Cléopâtre’ (1909), with choreography by Mikhail Fokine and costumes and sets by Leon Bakst ... 

 

... and as Zobeide opposite Vaslav Nijinsky in 'Schéhérazade' (1910) with the same choreographer and designer ...

 

To give some sense of Rubinstein’s extraordinary impact on stage, it’s instructive to read the following notes by Jean Cocteau made on her entrance in ‘Cléopâtre’ during the first few performances of the work:

“Then a ritual cortege was seen to appear. There were musicians who plucked long, oval-shaped citharas, their tones richly resonant, yet soft as the breath of serpents. Flutists, their arms raised in angular poses, blew from their sonorous pipes spirals of sound so piercing, so sharp, ascending and descending in turn, that one’s nerves could hardly endure them. There were terra-cotta-complexioned fauns, with long white manes; narrow-hipped young women with painted elbows and flat eyes; and all the other attendants on a royal gallery.

Finally, borne on the shoulders of six colossi, there appeared a kind of ebony and gold casket, which a young black watched over diligently, touching it, clearing the way for it, urging on the bearers.

The bearers set the casket down in the middle of the temple, opened its double lid, and from within lifted a kind of mummy, a bundle of veils, which they placed upright on its ivory pattens. Then four slaves began an astonishing maneuver. They unwound the first veil, which was red, with silver lotuses and crocodiles; then the second veil, which was green with the history of the dynasties in gold filigree; then the third, which was orange with prismatic stripes; and so on until the twelfth veil, a dark blue, which, one divined, enclosed the body of a woman. Each veil was unwound in a different fashion: one called for a manage of intricately patterned steps, another for the skill needed to shell a ripe nut, another for the casualness with which one plucks the petals of a rose; the eleventh veil, in what seemed the most difficult movement, was peeled off in one piece like the bark of a eucalyptus.

The twelfth veil, dark blue, Mme Rubinstein released herself, letting it fall with a sweeping circular gesture

.

She stood, leaning forward, her shoulders slightly humped like the wings of the ibis; overcome by her long wait, having submitted in her dark coffin, as we had, to the intolerable and sublime music of her cortege, she wavered on her high pattens. She was wearing a small blue wig, from which a short golden braid hung down on either side of her face. There she stood, unswathed, eyes vacant, cheeks pale, lips parted, shoulders hunched, and as she confronted the stunned audience, she was too beautiful, like a too potent Oriental fragrance.”

Born into a wealthy Jewish family in Kharkov, or possibly St. Petersburg, Ida Rubinstein had little formal ballet training, though her skills were developed with coaching from Fokine. What she did possess was tremendous stage presence and a strong ability to act.

She made her debut in a single and private performance of Oscar Wilde's ‘Salomé’, in which she stripped naked in the course of the Dance of the Seven Veils. She was painted as this character by Valentin Serov in 1910.

She then appeared in leading roles in the Ballets Russes, such as the title in ‘Cléopâtre’ (1909) and Zobeide in 'Schéhérazade' (1910).

Leaving the Ballets Russes in 1911, this extraordinary force of nature formed her own dance company, which she funded by her own inherited wealth.

Here she commissioned a number of lavish productions, using variously Fokine as choreographer, Bakst as designer and Debussy as composer. These ballets include 'Le Martyr de Saint Sebastien' (1911) ...

... and 'Helene de Sparte' (1912) ...

 Always one to attract attention, she drew the notice of the Archbishop of Paris, who prohibited Catholics from seeing 'Le Martyr de Saint Sebastien' because the saint was played by a woman and a Jew.

In a sense, Rubinstein was to momentarily take on the creative and succès de scandale mantle of Serge de Diaghilev.

Not one to be any way checked by convention, in 1911, Rubinstein began a three-year affair with Romaine Brooks.

 Brooks painted and photographed her over this period.

During World World One, Rubinstein again was at the centre of things, converting the Carlton Hotel into a hospital for wounded Allied troops and undertaking charity performances.

After the war, she appeared in various plays, and performed in Staat's ‘Istar’ (1924) at the Paris Opera.

With Bronislava Nijinska as choreographer, Rubinstein had a company in Paris between 1928 and 1929. She commissioned ‘Boléro’ from Maurice Ravel and performed in the ballet choreographed to the music. Other commissions include Nijinska’s ‘Le Baiser de la fée’ with music by Sauguet and Leonide Massine's ‘David’ with music by Stravinsky.

Most definitely not ‘Vivir con miedo es como vivir en medias’ (‘A life lived in fear is a life half lived’)!

But let’s return to 1921 and that footage from Gabriellino D'Annunzio and Mario Roncoroni’s ‘La Nave’.

In this sequence from the film, Rubinstein in the role of Basiliola is called on to dance for the crowd. 

 

The choreography is in a sense a pastiche of much that this Belle Époque figure was famous for. The overall feeling is of reminiscent ‘Salome’. And the opening scene, in which she makes a strong bold arm movement, recalls Cocteau’s note about ‘Cléopâtre’ - ‘The twelfth veil, dark blue, Mme Rubinstein released herself, letting it fall with a sweeping circular gesture’.

I dare you not to enjoy Ida Rubinstein in this segment of 'La Nave'!