It is interesting to note the wide variety of his creative work by listing some of his many works, which, in addition to those mentioned above, include, among others, the following: For the Ballet Club of Marie Rambert: Les Petits Riens, Leda and the Swan, Capriol Suite, The Lady of Shalott, La Peri, Foyer de Danse, Les Masques, Mephisto Valse, and several others.
For that founding society of contemporary British ballet, which I have mentioned before, the Camargo Society: Pomona, Façade, The Lord of Burleigh, Rio Grande (originally known as A Day In a Southern Port), and other works.
I have already mentioned some of his outstanding works for the Sadler’s Wells Ballet. Others include Nocturne, to Delius’s Paris; Apparitions, to a Liszt-Lambert score; Les Rendez-vous, to a Constant Lambert score based on melodies by Auber, seen in America in the repertoire of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet; the delicious A Wedding Bouquet, to an original score by Lord Berners and a Gertrude Stein text; Les Patineurs, to melodies by Meyerbeer; Constant Lambert’s Horoscope; Dante Sonata, to Liszt works arranged by Lambert; The Wise Virgins, to Bach arranged by Sir William Walton; The Wanderer, to Schubert; Walton’s The Quest; Les Sirènes, by Lord Berners; the César Franck Symphonic Variations; the Coronation ballet of 1953—Homage to the Queen; and, in a sense, most importantly, the full length Cinderella, utilizing the Prokofieff score; and the full length production of Delibes’ Sylvia.
Actually, I like to think of Ashton as a dance-composer, moving freely with dramatic or symbolic characters.
In all my experience of ballet and of choreographers, I do not believe there is any one more conscientious, more hard-working, more painstaking at rehearsals. While his eye misses nothing, he never raises his voice, never loses his temper. Corrections are made firmly, but quietly, almost in seeming confidence. Always he has a good word for something well done. On occasion, I have noticed something to be adjusted and have mentioned it to him.
“Yes, yes, I know,” he would say.
“Aren’t you going to tell them?”
“You tell them,” Ashton would smile. “I can’t tell them. Go on, you tell them.”
This was in connection with a musical matter. The conductor in question was taking a portion of the work at a too rapid tempo. It involved “Freddy” telling the conductor the passage was being played too fast.
“No,” repeated “Freddy,” “it will work out. He will see it and feel it for himself. I don’t want to upset him.”