III
The Greek theatres, in which the dances and dramas were performed regularly, were of vast dimensions. The Theatre of Dionysius at Athens, being built in the shape of a horseshoe, could accommodate an audience of 30,000 spectators. A deep and wide stage was constructed for the dramatic performances. The theatre was not merely, as with us, a place of entertainment, but also a temple of the god whose altar was the central part of the semicircle of seats, where the worshippers sat, during the festival days, from sunrise to sunset. The stage decorations were of three sorts: for tragedies, the front of a palace, with five doors; for comedy, a street with houses; for satire, rocks and trees. There were no accessories of any kind on the stage. Instead of a roof there was the blue sky. The front part of the stage was used for the chorus, instruments and dancing. Lucian mentions how even the Bacchanalian dance was treated so seriously on the stage that the people would sit whole days in the theatre to view the Titans and Corybantes, Satyrs and shepherds. ‘The most curious part of it is,’ he writes, ‘that the noblest and greatest personages in every city are the dancers, and so little are they ashamed of it that they applaud themselves more upon their dexterity in that species of talent than on their nobility, their posts of honor, or the dignities of their forefathers.’
How learned the public dancers were in Greece is best illustrated by a dialogue that occurred between Lucian and Croton. In this one of the speakers maintains that any person desiring to become a public dancer should know by heart Homer and Hesiod, should know the national mythology and legends, should be acquainted with the history of Egypt, should have a good voice and know how to sing well, and should be a man of high personal character. A dancer should be neither too tall or too short, too thin or too fat. If a dancer ever failed in his efforts to please the audience he ran the risk of being pelted with stones. The Greek audiences were accustomed to express their disapprobation in a very decided manner.
It is interesting to compare the Greek dancing figures of various periods, which actually give an idea of the development of their choreography, and also of the change which took place in their costumes and styles. In the first half of the sixth century the Ionic style prevailed in garments. The feminine body was heavily draped. Later, until the Persian War, a costume of a chiton, with wide sleeves and sharply cut was in fashion. This century is rich in reproductions of dancing figures, which have a tendency to keep one another’s hands and strive to be decorative. The fifth century figures give an impression of poised grace and plastic perfection of the body. The fourth century figures show dancers with great individuality and perfection in the use of the arms. Numerous bas-reliefs of this era represent women dancing with veils which give to them a peculiar magic of motion. Like all the Orientals, the Greek women used to wear veils while outside of their homes. The veil was a natural medium of decoration and a symbol for the pantomime of the dance. Frequently the dancing garments of this era are so slight that they add only a mystifying charm to the apparently nude dancers. The poses of their limbs and arms give evidence of rhythm and technique. The mimic expressions play seemingly a foremost rôle, as their smiling faces and bashful looks betray the power of their fascination. They show expert skill in the use of the veils, with which they now seemingly cover their bodies, opening them again to give a glimpse of their great beauty. The exquisitely artistic statuettes found at Tanagra give some idea of the beauty of motion as practised by young women dancers, when, in the marvellous setting of the antique theatres, under the blue skies of Greece, they gave performances to audiences with whom the love of beauty was a passion.
At some of the religious ceremonial dances only boys and girls appeared, at others young men or girls, or both together, danced. Of a rather voluptuous nature were the dances performed in the temples of Aphrodite and Dionysos. Of special importance were the dances connected with the Eleusinian Mysteries, always celebrated in Athens. Their performance and the form of their construction were surrounded with greatest secrecy. Plato, who was initiated into them, spoke very highly of their meaning. It is evident that their real influence upon the people began in the sixth century. In the beginning the Mysteries were performed once every five years. Later they became annual performances. According to Desrat, they had much in common with the Rondes of the Middle Ages. The procession of the Mysteries proceeded from the temple of Demetrius, in Attica, and passed along a wooded road to Athens. A special resting place was the Fountain of Magic Dances, where the girls performed dances of unusual poetic grace. Late in the evening the procession entered the temple with a dance of torches. Here, on a stage specially erected for this purpose, were performed the dances of the Mysteries. Very little is known of the character of these dances. It is likely that they were dramatized legends of Demetrius, who was depicted as a pilgrim, wandering from place to place, in search of his lost daughter. Another phase of the Mysteries was to produce in symbolic gestures and poses and by proper staging, episodes of the life beyond. The performance began in twilight, the first scene being the pantomime in Hell, whither the soul of Demetrius was carried by infernal powers. It represented the utmost horror. During all the performance no word was spoken. After the scene in Hell came another in Heaven. The most impressive of all the dances was the ‘Leap with Torches,’ in which only the women appeared. It was said to be the most fantastic and acrobatic of all the Greek religious dances. Plutarch says that the impression was that of spectral ghosts playing perpetually with flames. It was meant to act as a purgatory fire that cleansed all the souls from their wickedness. The Mysteries ended in the night of the fourth day with a Dance of Baskets, in which the women appeared with covered baskets on their heads in a solemn march rhythm and vanished into the darkening temple. The Eleusinian Mysteries were abolished by an imperial decree in 381 A. D.
Not less popular than the Eleusinian were the Dionysian Mysteries. It is said that these developed as the festival of the first-fruits, but were later dedicated to the god Dionysos, the patron of wine and pleasure. To him is ascribed the invention of enthusiasm and ecstasy, the essential element of all beauty. The symbol of all the Dionysian dances was the goat, which also figured in the Mysteries. It was one of the most sensuous performances that imagination could invent. In it men and women took part, but men wore usually women’s dresses and the women men’s. In the centre of the dancers, before the statue of Dionysos, stood a huge cup filled with wine. The ceremony lasted three days and was performed in every town and hamlet of the country. According to the Greek mythology, Dionysos is represented in a group of dancing women and men. As Satyrs were supposed to be daily companions of Dionysos, the Satyr Dance was a feature of the Mysteries. Of one of the Dionysian dances we read in ‘Daphnis and Chloë’: ‘Meanwhile Dryas danced a vintage dance, making believe to gather grapes, to carry them in baskets, to tread them down in the vat, to pour the juice into tubs, and then to drink the new wine: all of which he did so naturally and so featly that they deemed they saw before their eyes the vines, the vats, the tubs, and Dryas drinking in good health.’
Greek and Roman Dances as Depicted on Ancient Vases
Other features of the Dionysian Mysteries were the Dances of Nymphs, the Dances of the Knees, and the Skoliasmos, in the nature of gymnastics, in which the performers hopped on inflated wine-skins, rubbed over with oil to make them slippery. The ancient writers describe these dances as lascivious and comic. In the Satyr Dance the dancers wore goat-skins and appeared as Satyrs. Several of these dances consisted of graceful and more modest movements, measured to the sound of flutes. Some of them were accompanied by light songs, daring sarcasm, and licentiously suggestive poems. Dances in which animals were imitated were numerous. There was a Crane Dance, supposed to be invented by Theseus, and Owl, Vulture, and Fox Dances.
The Mysteries of Demetrius took a more centralized form than the Mysteries of Dionysos. Each town had its individual secrets of romantic mysteries. In Athens the cult of love turned very much around the legend of Mænads, which, like little devils, shadowed the people day and night. In the Museum of Naples can be seen a vase with dancing Mænads, which represents best the ancient spirits of love. Plato says that the Mænad Dance consisted principally of the embracing and caressing of men and women.
Reinach believes that all Greek mythology, art and science grew out of the Greek folk-songs and folk-dances. According to him, the rhythm and melody of dance music changed in strict correspondence with the theme. All the sacred dances dedicated to Demetrius and Apollo, or to Aphrodite, were in legato form, graceful, melodious and full of color; on the other hand, those dedicated to Bacchus and Dionysos were of quicker tempo, syncopated style and less melodious. Reinach succeeded in deciphering the words and music of an ancient Greek dance song that was discovered in the ruins of the temple of Delphi. This was presumably danced at the Delphic festivals and is dedicated to Apollo. Since the cult of Apollo was widespread in Greece there were not a few dances dedicated and performed to this god. We are told that palm-leaves were given as prizes for the best of the Apollo dancers.
Besides the artists who appeared either in sacred or classic dances, there existed in Greece a class of professional dancers called Heteræ. These were women of flirting and coquettish type. In our sense, they must have been a kind of Varieté or professional social dancers. During the time of Pericles there were 500 Heteræ in Athens. Thus Sappho, Aspasia and Cleonica were trained to be Heteræ dancers. At one time in Greek history the Heteræ became a danger to the family. Aspasia was the mistress of Pericles until she became his wife. Being well educated, the Heteræ were women of attractive type and most of the great Greek thinkers, artists or statesmen felt the spell of their charm. Sappho called her house the ‘home of the Muses,’ where plastic beauty rivalled with poetry and music. The tragedy of Sappho has inspired many writers, ancient and modern, to immortalize her in their works, particularly the story according to which she sang and flung herself down into the sea. Performed by great celebrities the dances of the Heteræ were by no means vulgar, but lyric and suggestively sensuous. They were performed with garments or without, with floating veils and to the music of a flute. The dancers of this class used to give performances at their homes or in specially established gardens. All the Hetera dances were dedicated to Aphrodite and the ambition of the performers was to imitate the lovely poses of the celebrated goddess. According to most descriptions they resembled our past century’s minuets, gavottes and pavanes.
Emmanuel, who has written an interesting work on the Greek choreography, maintains that the accuracy of rhythm was of foremost importance. A choreographic time-marker was attached to sandals that produced sounds modified to the changing sentiments of the action. A little tambourine or cymbals were occasionally employed. A special branch of dance instruction was the Chironomia, or the art of using the hands. Greek dancing was by no means predominantly gesturing with hands, as some people think, but it was the harmonious use of every limb of the human body, in connection with the corresponding art of pantomime. There were numerous dancing schools in Greece, and each of them had its particular method of instruction. The first exercise in a school was the learning of flexibility of the body, which lasted a few years. A special school dance was the Esclatism, which was chiefly a rhythmic gymnastic, on the order of Jaques-Dalcroze’s method at Hellerau. We know comparatively little of the details of the ancient technical mechanism of choreography. Unfortunately all the ancient dancing figures represent merely one moment of a dance, therefore it is extremely difficult to grasp the principal points of the vanished art.
CHAPTER VII
DANCING IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE
Æsthetic subservience to Greece; Pylades and Bathyllus; the Bellicrepa saltatio; the Ludiones; the Roman pantomime; the Lupercalia and Floralia; Bacchantic orgies; the Augustinian age; importations from Cadiz; famous dancers.
As with all their arts, the ancient Romans borrowed their dancing from the Greeks. A nation raised in adoration of military and aristocratic ideals, conceited, and with a strong tendency to materialism and formalities, the Romans contributed little to choreography. Their civilization was imitative rather than creative. Their art is void of ethnographic characteristics and a kind of artificial stiffness breathes from their best achievements. The only conspicuous contribution of the Roman dancers to the evolution of dance lies in their unique dramatic and ecclesiastic pantomimes and their celebrated masque dances. But it seems surprising that dancing was far more highly developed and esteemed in the earlier period of Roman history than in those days of luxury and vice which preceded the downfall of the empire. Under the republic, dancing was considered one of the foremost factors in education, and the children of patricians and statesmen were obliged to take lessons in Greek dancing. But of the social views of later centuries we read from Quintilian that ‘it disgraced the dignity of a man,’ or as Cicero said, ‘No sober man dances, unless he is mad.’ Horace rebukes the Romans for dancing as for an infamy. Various other Roman writers tell us how much the women of standing were criticized for their lack of virtue if they entertained a dancer at their house or shook hands with him.
On the other hand, we have an eloquent proof of the Roman frenzy for the stage dance in the exciting intrigues of Pylades and Bathyllus, which set the whole Republic in a ferment. De Jaulnaye, the great historian, writes that the rivalries of Pylades and Bathyllus occupied the Romans as much as the gravest affairs of state. Every citizen was a Bathyllian or a Pyladian. Glancing over the history of the disturbances created by these two mummers, we seem to be reading that of the volatile nation whose quarrels about music were so prolonged, so obstinate, and, above all, so senseless that no one knew what were the real points of dispute, when the philosopher of Geneva wrote the famous letter to which no serious reply was ever made. Augustus (the Emperor) reproved Pylades on one occasion for his perpetual quarrels with Bathyllus. ‘Cæsar,’ replied the dancer, ‘it is well for you that the people are engrossed by our disputes; their attention is thus diverted from your actions!’ While Pylades is described as a great tragic actor and dancer, Bathyllus is represented as having been endowed not only with extraordinary talent, but also with great personal beauty, and is said as having been the idol of the Roman ladies. It is said that the banishment of Pylades from Rome almost brought about a serious revolution, that was prevented by the recall of the imperial decree.
One of the most interesting ancient dances practised by the Romans was Bellicrepa saltatio, a military dance, instituted by Romulus after the seizure of the Sabine women, in order that a similar misfortune might never befall his own country. To Numa Pompilius, the gentle Sabine, who became king after the mysterious disappearance of Romulus, is ascribed the origin of Roman religious dances. Especially celebrated were the dancing priests of Mars, and the order of Salien priests, numbering twelve, who were selected from citizens of first rank. Their mission was to worship the gods by dances. As a sign of special distinction they wore in their ceremonials richly embroidered purple tunics, brazen breastplates and their heads covered with gilded helmets. In one hand they held a javelin, while the other carried the celestial shield called the ancilia. They beat the time with their swords upon this ancilia, and marched through the city singing hymns to the time of their solemn dancing.
According to Livy, pantomimes were invented to please the gods and to distract the people, horrified by the plague that created havoc in the sacred city of Rome. The Ludiones, the celebrated Roman bards, are said to have performed their dances first before the houses of the rich to the music of the flute, but later appeared in the circuses and in special show tents. Their example found followers among the Roman youth. All the Roman dancers gave performances masqued, and it was the custom that in the sacred, as well as in the great dramatic pantomimes women were excluded, though during the later period of the Empire, particularly during the reign of Nero, women dancers appeared.
The best known of the ancient Roman pantomimes were those performed at the festival of Pallas, of Pan and of Dionysus or Bacchus. Juvenal writes that Bathyllus, having composed a pantomime on the subject of Jupiter, performed it with such realism that the Roman women were profoundly moved. The same is said of the dances invented and performed by Pylades, some of which were later given by the priests of Apollo. The art of Roman pantomime developed gradually to classic standards and ranged over the whole domain of mythology, poetry and drama. Dancers, called Mimii, like Bathyllus and Pylades, translated the most subtle emotions by gestures and poses of extreme graphic power so that their audiences understood every meaning of their mute language. This plastic form of mute drama made the dancing of the Romans a great art. The Emperor Augustus is said to have been a great admirer of Bathyllus, and so also was Nero. It is said that an African ruler, while the guest of Nero, was so impressed by the dancer that he said to Nero that he would like to have such an artist for his court. ‘And what would you do with him?’ asked the Emperor. ‘I have around me,’ said the other, ‘several neighboring tribes who speak different languages, and as they are unable to understand mine, I thought, if I had this man with me, it would be quite possible for him to explain by gesture all that I wished to express.’
Very unusual was the Roman festival of Pan, or the Lupercalia, at which half-naked youths danced about the streets with whips in their hands, lashing freely everyone whom they chanced to meet. The Roman women liked to be lashed on this occasion, as they believed it would keep them young. Another kind of Pan festival was celebrated by the peasants in the spring at which the young men and maidens joined in the dances, which took place in the woods or on the fields. They wore garlands of flowers and wreaths of oak on their heads. Similar dances, only more solemn and magnificent, were performed at the festival of Pallas by shepherds. Dancing and singing around blazing bonfires in a circle they worshipped the goddess of fruitfulness. Frequently the officiators were disreputable women who appeared dressed in long white robes, symbolic of chastity. Then there were the great Floralia or May Day festivals which in the beginning were of sufficiently decent manner but eventually degenerated into scenes of unbounded licentiousness. Still wilder than these were the orgies of Bacchus, which contributed greatly to the demoralization of the people until the consuls Albinus and Philippus banished them from Rome by a decree of the Senate.
On account of their sensuous character the Romans were unable to keep their art of dancing in such poetic and yet simple æsthetic frames as did the Greeks, for which reason all the Roman women characters in a pantomime were disguised young men. They lacked the ability of self-control in the stage art which in Greece had reached a standard of classic perfection. It is sufficient to say that they must have been wicked enough when a ruler like Tiberius commanded the dancers to be expelled from Rome. But Tacitus relates that, while publicly Tiberius reprimanded Sestius Gallus for the elaborate balls given at his house, privately he made arrangements to be his guest on the condition that he should himself be entertained in the usual manner. Of his successor, Caligula, Suetonius writes: ‘So fond was the emperor of singing and dancing that he could not refrain from singing with the tragedians and imitating the gestures of the dancers either by way of applause or correction.’
During the reign of Augustus the art of pantomime reached its zenith. The dances of this time were more spectacular and impressive on account of their carefully executed stage effects. As far as music was concerned, this was produced by flutes and harps, sometimes by singing voices. The Romans never cared for dancing itself, but they were fond of it as a spectacle. A great rôle in Roman life at this juncture was played by the female dancers from Cadiz, which were said to be so brilliant and passionate that poets declared it impossible to withstand the great charm these women exercised over the spectators. Some one says ‘they were all poetry and voluptuous charm.’ An English writer maintains that the famous Venus of Cailipyge was modelled from a Caditian dancer in high favor at Rome. Another noted writer calls the delicias caditanas the most fascinating performances that ever could be seen, and calls all other dances of the Romans and even the Greeks amateurish puerilities.
Of great Roman female dancers we know by name Lucceia, who was said to give performances when she was one hundred years old; Stephania, ‘the first to dance on the stage in comedy descriptive of Roman manners’; Galeria Copiola, who danced before Emperor Augustus ninety-one years after her first appearance; and Alliamatula, who danced before Nero at the age of one hundred and twenty. The most known of all the great women dancers in ancient Rome was Telethusa, a fascinating girl from Cadiz, to whose extraordinary beauty and art the poet Martial dedicated many of his songs.
CHAPTER VIII
DANCING IN THE MIDDLE AGES
The mediæval eclipse; ecclesiastical dancing in Spain; the strolling ballets of Spain and Italy; suppression of dancing by the church; dances of the mediæval nobility; Renaissance court ballets; the English masques; famous masques of the seventeenth century.
There is a lapse of time, nearly a thousand years, from the fall of the ancient civilization of Greece and Rome to the Grand Ballet of France, when the art of dancing was almost stifled by the Mediæval ecclesiastic scholasticism. Since we have practically no records of the dancing that was fostered in Cadiz, which was probably the most conspicuous at that time, we must confess that the greatly esteemed art of the ancients nearly came to a ruin. If it had not been for Spain, where dancing was introduced even into the churches, it might have taken centuries longer to revive the vanishing ideas of the ancient choreography and keep alive the plastic religion. We are told that a bishop of Valencia adopted certain sacred dances in the churches of Seville, Toledo and Valencia, which were performed before the altar. In Galicia a slow hymn-dance was performed by a tall priest, while carrying a gorgeously dressed boy on his shoulders, at the festival of Corpus Christi.
Much as the church fathers fought dancing in other countries, they had to admit it in Spain. It is said that the choir-boys of Seville Cathedral executed danzas during a part of the religious processions in mediæval Spain, and that this practice was authorized in 1439 by a Bull of Pope Eugenius IV. Of these choir-boy dancers Baron Davillier writes: ‘They are easily to be recognized in the streets of Seville by their red caps, their red cloaks adorned with red neckties, their black stockings, and shoes with rosettes and metal buttons. The hat (worn during the dance), slightly conical in shape, is turned up on one side, and fastened with a bow of white velvet, from which rises a tuft of blue and white feathers. The most characteristic feature of the costume is the golilla, a sort of lace ruff, starched and pleated, which encircles the neck. Lace cuffs, slashed trunk-hose or galzoncillo blue silk stockings and white shoes with rosettes, complete the costume of which Doré made a sketch when he saw it in Seville Cathedral, on the octave of the Conception. The dance of the boys attracts as many spectators to Seville as the ceremonies of Holy Week, and the immense cathedral is full to overflowing on the days when they are to figure in a function.’
Vuillier writes of another occasion of the Spanish temple dances: ‘One of these festivals is celebrated on the 15th of August, the day of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, the other on the following day, the feast of the patron of the village of Alaro. On these occasions a body of dancers called Els Cosiers play the principal part. It consists of six boys dressed in white, with ribbons of many colors, wearing on their heads caps trimmed with flowers. One of them, La Dama, disguised as a woman, carries a fan in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. Two others are dressed as demons with horns and cloven feet. The party is followed by some musicians playing on the cheremias, the tamborino, and the fabiol. After vespers the Cosiers join the procession as it leaves the church. Three of them take up positions on either side of the Virgin, who is preceded by a demon; every few yards they perform steps. Each demon is armed with a flexible rod with which he keeps off the crowd. The procession stops in all the squares and principal places, and there the Cosiers perform one of their dances to the sound of the tamborino and the fabiol. When the procession returns to the church they dance together round the statue of the Virgin.’
Of a very primitive but unique nature were the mediæval strolling ballets of Spain and Italy. Some old writers assert that they originated in Italy and passed later into Spain, but others tell the contrary. Later the Portuguese organized a strolling ballet in adoration of St. Carlos. Castil-Blaze writes of a strolling ballet that was instituted by the King René of Provence, in 1462, called the Lou Gue. This consisted of allegorical scenes of the Bible and was danced in the style of Roman mythological pantomimes. Most of the conspicuous characters of the Bible and history were enacted in this ballet. The procession of the ballet went through a city to the square of a garden before some cathedral or castle. Fame headed the march, blowing a trumpet and carrying a gorgeous shield on a winged horse. He was followed by the rest of the company in various comic and spectacular costumes. There were the Duke of Urbino, King Herod, Fauns, Dryads, and Apostles, and finally the Jews, dancing round a Golden Calf.
‘King René wrote this religious ballet in all its details,’ writes Castil-Blaze. ‘Decorations, dance music, marches, all were of his invention, and his music has always been faithfully preserved and performed. The air of Lou Gue has some curious modulations; the minuet of the Queen of Sheba, the march of the Prince of Love, upon which so many noëls have been founded, and, above all the Veie de Noue, are full of originality. But the wrestler’s melody is good René’s masterpiece, if it be true that he is its author, as tradition affirms. This classic air has a pleasing melody with gracefully written harmonies; the strolling minstrels of Provence play it on their flutes to a rhythmical drum accompaniment, walking round the arena where the wrestlers are competing.’
Some queer religious pantomimes came into vogue in France about the twelfth century, and of these the torch dances, executed on the first Sunday in Lent, enjoyed the greatest popularity; but they were all suppressed by the clergy and later became degenerate. In Paris the clergy sold dancing indulgences to the rich patricians for a considerable sum of money. The high society was taught to despise dancing as an amusement unworthy of its position. It remained only a popular diversion among the middle class. The theatrical ballets and strolling pantomimes disappeared altogether. The theatre was declared by the clergy a Pagan institution and every art connected with the stage of infernal origin. But, strange to say, mediæval stage dancing was first introduced by women. Men appeared only as spectators of such performances. Thus we read in a ballad of the twelfth century that the damosels arranged a grand ball and the knights came to look on.
The first dances that the mediæval nobility introduced at their castles, in which they themselves participated, were the famous Caroles. These were performed to the vocal accompaniment of the dancers themselves, although sometimes a strolling band was hired. Out of these grew gradually the various mediæval social dances and the court ballets and gay masquerades, which reached a climax during the middle of the seventeenth century. The most celebrated of this kind were the Ballets des Ardents, arranged by the Duchess de Berri and attended by the whole court. However, the most conspicuous of the mediæval attempts in this respect was the Fête given in 1489 by Bergonzio di Botta of Tortona, in honor of Galeazzo, Duke of Milan, on the occasion of his marriage of Isabella of Aragon. Of this we read:
‘The Amphitryon chose for his theatre a magnificent hall surrounded by a gallery, in which several bands of music had been stationed; an empty table occupied the middle. At the moment when the Duke and the Duchess appeared, Jason and Argonauts advanced proudly to the sound of martial music. They bore the Golden Fleece; this was the tablecloth, with which they covered the table, after having executed a stately dance, expressive of their admiration of so beautiful a princess and of a sovereign to possess her. Next came Mercury, who related how he had been clever enough to trick Apollo, shepherd of Admetus, and rob him of a fat calf, which he returned to present to the newly married pair, after having had it nobly trussed and prepared by the best cook of Olympus. While he was placing it upon the table, three quadrilles that followed him danced round the fatted calf, as the Hebrews had formerly capered round that of gold.’
The writer describes how Diana, Mercury and the Nymphs followed the first scene. Then Orpheus appears to the music of flutes and lutes. ‘Each singer, each dancer had his special orchestra, which was arranged for him according to the sentiments expressed by his song or by his dance. It was an excellent plan, and served to vary the symphonies; it announced the return of a character who had already appeared, and produced a varied succession of trumpets, of violins with their sharp notes, of the arpeggios of lutes, and of the soft melodies of flutes and reed pipes. The orchestrations of Monteverdi prove that composers at that time varied their instrumentation thus, and this particular artifice was not one of the least causes of the prodigious success of opera in the first years of its creation.’
This was followed by a solo singer accompanied by a lyre, after whose aria Atlanta and Theseus appeared to the sound of brass instruments. After this appeared a ballet of Tritons. During the intermission refreshments were served and the spectacle ended with the scenes of Orpheus, Hymen and Cupid. Finally, Lucretia, Penelope, Thomyris, Judith, Portia, and Sulpici advanced and laid at the feet of the Duchess the palms of virtue that they had won during their lives.
There is no doubt that this spectacular fête of the Duke of Milan gave the initial impetus to the following Grand Ballets at the French Court, which in turn became the embryos of the modern stage dances. It is also very likely that the well-known masques, so much in vogue during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, were an outcome of the original Milan pageant. In particularly high favor stood the masques at the English court. Thus we read that in 1605 ‘The Masque of Blackness’ was given at Whitehall, in which Queen Anne and her ladies blackened their skins and appeared as blackamoors. The Spanish Ambassador, having to kiss Her Majesty’s hand, gave voice to his fears that the black might come off. Three years later ‘The Masque of Beauty’ was given. Both were written by Ben Jonson. The speeches of the masques were mostly in verse, but sometimes in prose. In the ‘Masque of Castillo,’ written by John Crowne in 1675, the Princess Anne and Mary took part at St. James’ Palace and the performance was a great success. Though Bacon designated masques as mere toys, nevertheless he enjoyed them as spectacles on account of their rich colors and costumes. In 1632 James Shirley wrote ‘The Triumph of Peace,’ upon which production a sum of £21,000 was expended. This was given for the first time before the king and queen at Whitehall and was repeated in Merchant Tailors’ Hall. The music to this was composed by William Lawes and Simon Ives. The scenes and costumes were designed and superintended by the famous architect Inigo Jones.
Nearly all the masques of olden times were written in honor of the marriage of royalty or of some great nobleman and were mostly given at Christmastide Twelfth Night. They were said to be many-sided in their construction, music and themes. For the most part they were dramatic, festive and gay, the allegorical characters giving them an element of poetic charm. Dancing was one of their most potent elements, and this was graceful, dainty and lively. The dancers called maskers were a special feature in the masques, though they had nothing to do with speech or song. The dresses in these masques were not always accurate, for the parts were sometimes acted by women in farthingales, though they impersonated classic goddesses. Masques were patronized in England for only two centuries, Henry VIII, Elizabeth, James I, and Charles I being their main sponsors. Queen Anne of Denmark was so much delighted with them that she acted one of the characters.
Alfonso Ferrabosco, a noted musician of Italian descent, was the composer of many masques during the reign of James I. Other composers were Nicholas Laniere and John Coperario. ‘Salmacida Spolia’ by Sir William Davenant, with music by Ferrabosco, was said to be one of the most spectacular masques of the seventeenth century. It consisted of pretty scenes and songs between the dances, so full of allegory and devices, and so gay in costumes and light that it was a favorite of English nobility for three generations. The most popular of the English masques were ‘Love’s Triumph Callipolis’ by Ben Jonson and Inigo Jones, which was performed at the court in 1630; the ‘Sun’s Darling,’ performed in 1623; the ‘Masque of Owles,’ performed for King Charles I; and ‘Tempe Restored’ by Aurelian Townsend, performed in 1632, with Queen Henrietta Maria and fourteen ladies as the leading characters. In the last-named masque the beasts form a procession, fourteen stars descend to the music of the spheres, and Tempe is restored to the true followers of the Muses. Large figures were posted on either side of the stage, one a winged woman, the other a man, with the lighted torch of Knowledge and Ignorance. Women with snaky locks mingled with Harmony in the songs of the chorus of Circe. Dances by the queen and her ladies added to the spectacular character of the scene.
CHAPTER IX
THE GRAND BALLET OF FRANCE
Louis XIV and the ballet; the Pavane and the Courante; reforms under Louis XV; Noverre and the ballet d’action; Auguste Vestris and others; famous ballets of the period—the Revolution and the Consulate; the French technique, the foundation of ‘choreographic grammar’; the ‘five positions’; the ballet steps—Famous danseuses: Sallé, Camargo; Madeleine Guimard; Allard.