Читать книгу Dance and Costumes - Elna Matamoros - Страница 8

The professionalization of dance gave rise to a genre that had already begun to be called ballet and managed to break through the stalemate that it had endured by being performed only by amateur dancers, courtiers, and other idle people of different categories and respectability. As an independent genre –exuberant, absurd and surprising– the ballet de cour¹ could not survive for long considering the social changes that were advancing into France, the country where it originated. These performances, always held in the court premises, were designed, performed and enjoyed only by courtiers, causing this genre to die out around 1665, which gave way to other genres such as ballet mascarade, ballet à entrées and, subsequently, the opéra-ballet.

The ballet de cour, by contravening the three classical unities for theatre –action, time and place– presented greater scenic possibilities, and the new creators enjoyed more artistic freedom. For example, the characters being interpreted would be costumed following the fashion of the time and sometimes they were provided with a specific symbolic element that transformed the performance into an important propaganda tool.² Following the rules of the court where the ballet de cour began, the segregation of sexes established that only the ladies of the nobility could act in proximity to the Queen, while only men could dance with the King; thus, certain roles were played by men dressed in transvestite; not a major difficulty considering the complexity of the wardrobe and the masks, and the sophisticated make-up used in the performances.³ Some courtiers played certain characters so often that they came to reflect them in their own personal behaviours. This happened to Louis XIV of France: his favourite character played on stage, Apollo, had a specific solar meaning, which led to the appearance of the Sun in his performances, which in turn, led to his nickname, “Le Roi Soleil,”⁴ evidently making it more relevant.⁵

2.1 - Le Roi Soleil en costume de thêatre ; Louis XIV au Carrousel Costume design by Henri de Gissey. Original coloured print.

To understand entirely the absurdity of this genre it suffices to name the Ballet Comique de la Reine, considered as the first ballet de cour containing all the elements of the genre, performed the 15^th of October of 1581 on the occasion of the wedding of the Duke of Joyeuse, a favourite of the King, with the sister of Queen Louise, Marguerite de Lorraine.⁶ The five-hour long presentation, based on Homer’s Odyssey, took place in the large hall of the Hôtel du Petit-Bourbon, adjacent to the Louvre Palace, a place so spacious that the King, as a spectator, was more than 50 metres away from the performance.⁷

The choreographer, Balthasar de Beaujoyeleux,⁸ had a difficult time to come up with some interesting geometric designs or patterns⁹ since he could only count on a few courtesans as performers, who probably did not shine for their talent as dancers: moreover, from the King to the least significant performer, each had to shine, but above all the monarch. Even today, there is an entrechat –the simplest of the whole family of the entrechats family, because it barely has one crossing of the feet during the jump– whose name is royal entrechat because precisely the King was the only dancer allowed to perform it: it would undoubtedly be a triumph of the social permeability of dance and an irony of destiny¹⁰ if true, but it may well only form part of a legend. On the other hand, the costumes used did not make it much easier to perform any steps that were far beyond a mere rhythmic walking, since there was little or no difference between the stage and civil clothing, to the extent of ignoring the period and aesthetic references of the characters being interpreted.¹¹ The absence of any scenic sense –still undeveloped– allowed brocades, precious stones and other luxurious accessories to be real, so they did not spare any means for their productions. As a genre, the ballet de cour held such ostentatious and absurd artistic concepts that when the performance finished, all the costumes, stage elements etc. were piled on an enormous pyre that was lit after a huge celebration with fireworks. Thus, each presentation show was truly unique and unrepeatable.¹²

Le Roi Soleil was not exclusively focused on dancing: perhaps trying to alleviate court expenses, he created the Academies of Dance (1661) and Music (1666; originally called Académie d’Opéra).¹³ Besides bringing total independence to dance, the Académies regulated its teaching and performances, as well as fomenting the creation of new ballets. When dance –or at least the embryo being gestated– finally left the court and came on stage, the creative motivation of dancers and choreographers was not long in coming. They were eager to develop new steps and enchaînements [literally “chains” or brief choreographic phrases, consisting of one or two main steps and their corresponding ‘in-between-steps’ or movements to link them all]. In Italy, where the practice and theory of dance was slightly more developed,¹⁴ the famous Cesare Negri¹⁵ collected these practices and theories –in detail– in his treatise Le gratie d’amore (1602-04), dedicated in its first edition to Philip III, “re di Spagna et monarca del Mondo Nuovo,” and expanded it in his second one, titled Nuove inventioni di balli. This he compiled with great precision to explain things such as audacious steps with turns on one foot and twirls in the air, but also practical advice such as the logical need, for example, as looking for a point of support to train prior to performing some of the difficult movements.¹⁶ Obviously, the ballet masters wanted their dancers well trained… even before they had more specific steps to perform.

Negri’s advice is a clear antecedent of the dancers’ subsequent barre work, in which the dancers lean on a wooden bar attached to the wall to practice some movements while keeping their balance. This incipient barre work is depicted in his book by a male figure that stands on one foot while holding a chair with his left hand and a table with his right hand;¹⁷ his clothing does not differ at all from the traditional court outfit of those days, and it is difficult to imagine that any movement can be performed gracefully wearing a ruff, a heavy jacket, etc.

2.2 - Nuove inventioni di balli…, by Cesare Negri, “Regola XXXVIII,” 1604.

Even if we can see a small and outlined waist in the dancer from Negri’s treatise, it does not mean that he wore a garment adjusted to the body: on the contrary, it was the chest that was covered by a stuffed jacket that increased its volume and made movement quite difficult. This particular jacket does not reach the knee, as in some cases, although it did cover the inner shirt, and it was probably the most important male garment of the time. Obviously, the courtiers wouldn’t dance without it; with a central slight opening that allows him to show part of his codpiece, and tight at the waist, so that the dancer could separate the thighs with relative comfort, facilitating and propitiating the incipient battements tendus –movement of a leg extending from the hip and showing the foot– or battements jetés –similar to battement tendu, but slightly raised from the floor– in their dance. The same filling that prevented the wrinkles in the doublet was also used in his trunk-hose (stuffed breeches), increasing the volume of the superior part of the legs, and consequently, making their crossing more difficult. The position that we find so frequent in images of the period, in which men usually keep their legs apart and one foot slightly forward, is suspiciously similar to the placement of Negri’s dancer. We dare to suggest that this pose would be a more comfortable position for the lower extremities in that costume, and probably this ‘discomfort’ was the reason of the battement tendu.

In the case of the dancer depicted in Le Gratie d’Amore, his jacket would be attached to the breeches by means of cords that passed through eyelets. His breeches would have been sewn –or at least fastened with suspenders– to stockings –knitted at that time– so that his movement would be very restricted in leg elevation and torso inclinations. The arm movements, limited by a jacket fitted tightly in the sleeves at the forearm, although wide at the shoulder, were so tight in the armhole that it was impossible to raise the arms without the jerkin pulling up from the breeches and stockings, so the dancer probably could not elevate his arms much more than shoulder height. Moreover, the position of his head would be very limited by the pleated ruff around his neck; although this ornament began to be used in the 16^th century as a gathering of fabric that was made by pulling the top cord of the edge of the shirt, it later became an obvious sign of aristocratic privileges as it grew in size: who wore the ruff did not need to work.¹⁸ How could they then pretend to dance while wearing this? There is no doubt that dance masters had to find a balance between putting their art at the service of the court to dignify it, and the difficulty –if not the total incapacity– that their dancers had to deal with. If they also refused to take off their hats, as happens to the dancer pictured in Negri’s treatise, any head movement would be even more uncomfortable. To make further movement even more difficult, our dancer wears a band crossing his chest, most probably with a symbolic meaning, perhaps in another attempt to add an aristocratic touch to his figure.

The footwear would take almost the entire 17^th century to develop to a higher heel and a more curved arch¹⁹ and had a design that could almost be described as ergonomic compared with the rest of the costume. Practically the only lack of functionality in favour of appearance is found in the ornaments around the ankle of the dancer, which at the same time prevented comfortable flexing and extensions of the foot. These shoes would probably be made with very fine leather that made a rounded cut in the front part of the shoe possible: it was an easy-to-handle material that would now facilitate an incipient raising of the dancer to the demi-pointe and a comfortable feeling while performing weight transitions in the choreography.

After carefully observing the dancer depicted in Negri’s treatise, it is not surprising how the official professionalisation of dance must have provided a certain relief for teachers and choreographers. However, the arrival of professional dancers to the stage did not prevent them from continuing to wear costumes similar to civil clothing. There was a reason for this: most dances were performed in the intervals of the plays and as part of other theatrical productions. Dance still would take some time to become a totally independent performing art. Over time, it was essential to create an audience interested in what had once only been offered in the courts, and these performances were now being made available at independent premises. These were places where people (the audience) could only participate by means of paying a ticket, which formed an indispensable element to the professionalisation of the performer.²⁰

Professional dancers officially went on stage in 1681, but the truth is that artists such as Mlle De Mollier, Mlle Girault, Mlle De la Faveur and other ladies held prominent positions in the incipient world of dance companies before that year;²¹ for example, Mademoiselle Vertpré had come to dance with Louis XIV himself in the Ballet de l’Impatience in 1661.²² The contact between the aristocratic dancers and professional dancers increased in those years; Molière took on a dancer of important lineage in his company, the Marquise Thérèse Du Parc;²³ about her dancing we know that she had a quite virtuosic jump, and that she succeeded partially because of the movements of her dress.²⁴

In 1661, the lack of qualified personnel would lead to Molière creating, with Les Fâcheux,²⁵ a new genre: the comédie-ballet. With this new work, the beautiful body of a nymph would dazzle Louis XIV himself.²⁶ However, the great evolution of the dance technique would still take further decades to become a reality. This was the work of two women who competed in agility and vivacity on stage, and of whose images and notable written references are preserved: Marie-Anne de Camargo and Marie Sallé.

La Camargo²⁷ (1710-1770) –as Marie Anne de Cupis used to be called because of her mother’s Spanish surname– had studied with Françoise Prévost (1680-1741), at that time Premiere Danseuse of the Paris Opera. Her great triumph took place when, in 1726, she crushed the masculine hegemony of the entrechats. Prévost, jealous of her student’s successes, refused to continue teaching her, so the young Camargo had to turn to other maestros –male teachers, especially Nicolas Blondy– to continue her training.²⁸ From them she learnt the technique of the battus or entrechats. In fact, she will always be remembered as the first woman capable of performing an entrechat-quatre; this jump of four criss-crosses of feet while in the air, was one of the first of a whole ‘family’ of jumps that was increasing in popularity in the following years. Due to the improvements in ballet training, dancers could successfully add more and more crosses of their calves in the entrechats through the years. In the 20^th century, the entrechat-dix (ten crosses) was first performed by Vaslav Nijinsky (1890-1950)²⁹ who became famous, precisely, for his extraordinary jump and elevation. But of course, Nijinksy would wear what are considered to be the first male ‘tights’ in history, something that would undoubtedly make his job easier.³⁰ Returning to La Camargo, dance historian Ivor Guest affirmed that what she performed was an entrechat-six;³¹ that is, two more crosses than the entrechat-quatre, which would make La Camargo’s performance an extraordinary milestone for era.

The choreography that Prévost, La Camargo’s teacher, had prepared for her debut in the ballet Les Caractères de la Danse³² included jetés battus and pas de basque.³³ To what extent the audience could appreciate her choreographic evolutions is still uncertain. Nicolas Lancret (1690-1743) painted La Camargo several times,³⁴ around 1730; in all his paintings that have been conserved, La Camargo performs the same movement wearing very similar dresses and the dancer depicted in an atmosphere of fête galante –or a festive country gathering– appears to be surrounded by more or less musicians, depending on the type of painting. The portraits show with great detail the cut, the fabrics and even the adornments of the dress;³⁵ we can appreciate a costume in the fashion of the moment, with a wide pannier that, although it allowed some freedom of movements inside the skirt, surely impeded the visibility of the legs from the audience.

The pannier,³⁶ a kind of hollow frame that was placed under the dress to give volume to the skirt, was the return of hoops,³⁷ but the truth is that it added a baroque image to the dance that choreographers would know how to take advantage of, even if its use made it difficult for the dancers to move. Supposing that La Camargo could really perform jetés battus –and assuming that her crossing of the battus was made from the ankles, and not from the thigh, as it is currently performed– it would be difficult for her not to hook the top foot with the bottom of the skirt. The jeté battu ends with a foot sur le cou de pied³⁸ instead of landing on two feet, like the other entrechats cited at the time, including the entrechat-quatre or entrechat-six that made her famous. An added difficulty, no doubt, but if we think of the effect that the flight of the dress must have had, that is, the petticoat –always worn between the structure and the dress– and pannier, surely we will understand the reason for the profusion of small jumps in the choreographies of those days. The delayed descent of the dress after the dancer’s landing from the jump, added to the lightness of the fabrics, would have created a candid, agile and prodigious vision to the movement.