Choreography by Nijinsky.
Scenery and Costumes Designed by Léon Bakst.
NIJINSKY’s curious production called “Jeux” comes next in order after “Le Dieu Bleu” and “L’Après-Midi d’un Faune.” In the first of the two latter the dancer was concerned only with his individual rôle; his conception of that was, no doubt, his own, but his part in the ballet as a whole was subject to the directing influence of Michel Fokine. In “L’Après-Midi d’un Faune” he was emancipated from control, and the entire performance was of his devising. Having explored the past, it was natural that he should turn his attention to the present, and in “Jeux” we have an avowed attempt to treat the modern aspect of (civilised) life in terms of the ballet. The result is curious, to say the least, and not very convincing.
A lot of ridiculous nonsense has been written about “Jeux.” It was first performed in Paris, and on the strength of descriptions received thence, it was labelled, long before its production in London, a “lawn tennis ballet.” As a fact, lawn tennis has nothing to do with it—nor any other particular sport or game for that matter. It is true that Nijinsky carries a racquet of some kind in his hand, on his first entry, but it is speedily laid aside and is nothing but the merest stage “property.” As for the lost ball which is the casus belli, so to speak, it bears as much resemblance to a tennis ball as does a pumpkin to an apple.
If “Playtime” be accepted as the interpretation of “Jeux” (a translation which the Russians themselves have adopted), the ballet resolves itself into a representation of the juvenile frolics of three children. Certainly Nijinsky in his flannel shirt and trousers, Karsavina and Ludmila Schollar in their short white frocks, bare legs and little socks, look a trifle more adult than the costumes seem to warrant, but that is a circumstance which cannot very well be helped. Léon Bakst has done his best to dwarf them by his spacious garden, with its high gates and big flower plots, but inevitably the performers appear somewhat robust for their parts.
The ballet can only be called such for want of another term. There is no dancing proper; except for a few leaps and runs, the performers confine their movements to a series of postures, and a queer, stilted kind of pantomime. It has been stated that Nijinsky by this “choreography” intends to express the essential characteristics of the movements of modern athletes and players of games, but the entire absence of athletic virility or spontaneous grace and vigour effectively negatives the idea. Or at least, if this was the idea, it has signally failed of execution.
The “plot” of the piece is the slightest possible. Into this not very realistic garden, empty when the curtain rises, a large ball suddenly drops. A moment later the three children enter in pursuit, and in playful mood begin to look for it. Presently, forgetting the object of their search, they indulge in juvenile flirtation. Each of the girls in turn receives the boyish attentions of their companion, and all three are fast forgetting their
surroundings when a second ball, dropping unexpectedly amongst them, recalls them to their senses and sends them scampering away.