Review of Ballet Russes

We saw Ballet Russes a few weeks ago; two of seven people in the audience. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that a film so utterly devoid of appalling content was so under-attended. My sister tells me, however, that it was slated to run for two weeks in New York back in November and that it’s still going strong. Maybe there’s less appreciation for classical ballet down here, though I’d hate to think it! 

The film opened modestly, quietly: a clip of ancient footage of a twirling 1930’s era dancer in a white tutu on a dimly lit stage. I felt my eyes burning and dashed away a quick tear. And then there was the great Dame Alicia Markova, throwing back her impeccably-groomed head with a reminiscent smile saying how grand it was, that great adventure of the Ballet Russes.

It all began with a little band of Russian refugees in Paris in the 1920’s and the daring of an intrepid ballet master—none other than George Balanchine—to make a world-famous company out of mere girls. Not one of the celebrated ‘Baby Ballerinas’, Irina Baronova, Tatiana Riabouchinska, and Tamara Tchinerova were more than 13 when they were given staring roles. But it worked, and it took the world by storm, charming America half out of its senses. Sets by Matisse, costumes by Dali, and a choreographer bold enough to set ballets to the symphonies of Tchaikovsky and Brahms—an unheard of liberty! The result—in the words of Maria Tallchief, one of the greatest American ballerinas of all time and future principal with the company, “It was the most glamorous thing I had ever seen in my entire life.”

By the end of the movie I was glad there were so few in the theatre because I was sobbing. The full impact of the commitment level of these bygone dancers descended upon me all at once, I suppose. I was deeply moved by the harsh realities of the privations they endured, even at the height of their fame, simply to do what they loved and to do it like the world had never seen. I wondered how many famous artists today would put up with exhausting sea voyages with immediate performances at their end, little food at times—and not by choice, learning three full ballets in a matter of days, and all for, as Frederic Franklin so aptly put it, ‘pennies’. There may have been huge squabbles over money between directors and backers and choreographers, but from all appearances, the dancers were just there to dance because it was their passion and because they were good at it.

My sister and I have enjoyed discussing the implications of such an example, and its message of excellence to all artists in all of their various callings. If each of God’s children would give their heart, soul, mind and strength in like manner to loving Him through their individual talents and creative abilities, think of the glory that would rise continually to Him through the many and varied forms of artisic expression! More thoughts coming, specifically as this applies to dance…