The Dance: A Novel Experiment Afterthoughts in the League of Composers' Performance of Stravinsky and Schoenberg- - By John Martin

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3 New York Times, April 27, The Dance: A Novel Experiment Afterthoughts in the League of Composers' Performance of Stravinsky and Schoenberg- - By John Martin The League of Composers this year faced by far the most ambitious project in its series of theatrical presentation when, with the collaboration of the Philadelphia Orchestra Association, it undertook the put upon the stage Schönberg's "Die Glückliche Hand" and Stravinsky's "Le Sacre du Printemps." The former was without precedent, inasmuch as no other of Schönberg's theatre piece has been produced in America and but few of them abroad. The Stravinsky ballet proved so difficult even to an experienced man of the theatre such as Diaghileff that he originally required two efforts to conquer it, and then, according to some opinions, only succeeded moderately well. It is not altogether surprising, therefore, that the league should have fallen a little short of perfection. The surprise lies in quite the opposite direction-that the performance should have turned out to be so extraordinary near its goal. There can be little question that it provided a new landmark on the road to the theatrical theatre, the theatre of synthesis, of "rhythm," as Mr. Stokowski called it in his curtain speech. America has seen few enough experiments in this medium, though Diaghileff, Meyerhold, Tairoff and many others have been ectively at work in it for years. Assets and Liabilities. The present enterprise had numerous items on its credit side when it began operations. It had, for example, one of the best orchestras of the day; a singularly sympathetic director general in Mr. Stokowski; an outstanding choreographer in Mr. Massine; several exceptional dancers in Miss Graham, Miss Humphrey and Mr. Weidman; and a tremendous enthusiasm which pervaded the corps de ballet. On the debit side the enterprise was faced with two problems - the one serious enough and the other almost fatal. There was no organization of dancers that could be called upon to go upon the stage as a unit, trained in the same method, responsive to direction and actuated by an ensemble spirit. There was also, with due respect to Mr. Stokowski, no Diaghileff to draw all the elements of the performance into an esthetic whole. It is perhaps as well to deal briefly with the unfortunate consequences of this lack first and then hasten on to the many excellences of a fine experiment. In both the Schönberg and Stravinsky works the stage designers fell considerably short of the mark, and in the former the stage director joined them. Robert Edmond Jones provided a beautiful, plastic setting for "Die Glückliche Hand," and one in which the dancers must have delighted. It was in every way theatrical, with several working levels; its design was decorative, restful, balanced, simple; its lines were clean and its mood rich. Meanwhile, the music of Schönberg sputtered and snarled, groaned and suffered in tortured snatches, chock full of ugly, telling, disturbing theatricalism, and fell dead just this side of the curtain line. The madness of the libretto with its delving into psychological recesses od pessimism was nowhere in evidence on the stage. Mr. Mamoulian staged the action in a vein as soft as that on Mr. Jones's designs. The "Chimera" the dreadful embodiment of fate's clutch upon "The Man" who is the protagonist of the tale, resembled nothing more ominous than the dragonfly in a Christmas pantomime, and his movements were without significance or authority. Much of the time he merely fidgeted. Miss Humphrey worked hard and well and her plastique was exceptionally beautiful. The single moment when something of the feeling of the music was visible on the stage, however, was her final appearance as she hung over the

4 top of a sliding panel, her long sleeves being the last things to slink out of sight as the panel slid upward into place. The Setting of the Ballet. In the "Sacre," Professor Roerich was guilty of the most complete breach of style of the evening. His setting was not a setting at all, but merely a large paining hung at the back of the stage, with painted cutouts for wings. Its painted perspectives loomed especially static as the movement of the dancers grew more and more vigorous. At best it was as if time had stood still for the artist since the days when he designed "Prince Igor", and vivid colors and a certain Slavic mysticism were sensations of the scene painter's art. Costumes of the same period, sweet and banal, aided in making Massine's amazingly inventive choreography as invisible as possible. In the Philadelphia performances this was very invisible indeed, a condition which was rectified as quickly and as fully as it was practicable to rectify it. The result was still deplorable to the eye, but in that it allowed the movement to be seen to a reasonable degree it was as satisfactory as could be expected. Of Massine's choreography it is only possible to speak with enthusiasm. Just as the music does not yield its fullness at one hearing, it is doubtful if there is one pair of eyes in a thousand capable of seeing the full richness and beauty of this dance settings. As has been noted already, it was extraordinarily inventive. The movements of the individual dancers were colored with hieratic suggestions and imbued with a tremendous muscular vigor which at the same time seemed to be inhibited by the mental limitations of a crude people. Through this combination of opposing ideas the choreographer conveyed without an instant's relief the overpowering influence of something not understood - the mystery, if you will, of nature in its vernal surging. In the mass designs were creations of surpassing beauty, ingenious to the last degree, but none the less stable for that. The Work of the Dancers. Occasionally the transitions were a trifle empty and the dancers frankly manoeuvred themselves into position for the next scene. Occasionally there was a false note of sweetness and softness in the movements of the girls, especially in the garland dance at the opening of the first act. Whether this was entirely the fault of the choreographer or whether the dancers themselves must take the greatest share of the blame is open to question. As a matter of fact, the girls were far less impressive in their dancing than they should have been. Vapid smiles were visible on several faces where anything else would have been preferable; an inclination to be "graceful" and even an apparent belief that in the celebration of the chosen virgin Stravinsky had written jazz, can be definitely counted against them. The male dancers emerged most triumphantly. One is inclined to believe that Massine provided them with the best material to work with, but they provided him in turn with an excellent performance. During the sacrificial dance they gave Miss Graham magnificent support, not only physically but their intense concentration upon her as she danced. In the first part of the ballet there perhaps was the most impressive evidence of Massine's artistry. The dance of the adolescents, in which the men perform tremendous movements before a background of girls seated and moving with their arms; the mock abduction and the Spring rounds that follow; the games of the rival tribes, and the intricate and extraordinary mass movement that closes the act-all these are choreography that ranks at the very top of modern dancing. Through its complicated visual counterpoint and its terrific energy, there shines the barbaric passion of elemental human beings. If it were net so near to the physical standards of savagery, akin to that of the animals themselves, it would be sensual and voluptuous beyond what we are accustomed to condone in the theatre. As it is, it is so young, so frank, so strong, that it seems a part of nature itself, a visualization of that rich depth which rolls through the music.

5 As the maiden chosen for sacrifice, Martha Graham proved once again her right to rank with the foremost of her art. The famous dance which brings the ballet to an end puts a terrific burden upon the dancer. After two acts of mass movement, keyed far higher than any single dancer could be expected to reach, she is called upon to touch the peak of the performance. This is a problem for the choreographer as well, and Miss Graham in the movement designed for her by Massine succeeded in doing the seemingly impossible. The Final Dance. The dance itself is another of the choreographer's briliant achievements; its performance is Miss Graham at her best. The psychological and emotional values that she bestows upon her own compositions without the aid of any great amount of movement she here couples with movement that is eloquent in itself. The combination is superb. It is a performance in which there is no perceptible flaw. The physical problems of the dance are large ones, requiring elevation, speed, balance and the complete mastery of the body in the most violent movement. In addition to this the rhythmic scheme of the music is highly involved. Miss Graham compasses these difficulties with supreme ease and authority; and, instead of allowing them to speak for themselves, she imbues them with her characteristic emotional strength and color. It is, indeed, a fitting climax to a production which, choreographically, is a masterpiece.