Now that the British dancer has been given the encouragement, the truth of Anna Pavlova’s prophecy is the more striking.
As I have said, Rowena Jackson attracted attention throughout North America in Les Patineurs, gaining a reputation for a surpassing technical brilliance in turns. These turns, known as fouetées, I have mentioned more than once. Legend has it that Jackson can do in excess of one hundred-fifty of them, non-stop. It is quite incredible.
Brilliance is one thing. Interpretation is another. When I saw Jackson in Le Lac des Cygnes, my admiration for her and for Ninette de Valois soared. Jackson’s Swan Queen proved to me that at Sadler’s Wells another ballerina had been born. (I nearly wrote “created”; but ballerinas are born, not made). As the Swan Queen she was all pathos and softness and tenderness and protectiveness; to the evil Black Swan, Odile, she brought the hard brittleness the role demands.
Rowena Jackson’s future among the illustrious of the world of ballet seems assured, and I shall watch her with interest, as I am sure will audiences.
SADLER’S WELLS THEATRE BALLET
While I was in London after the close of the first American tour of the Sadler’s Wells Covent Garden Ballet, I paid a visit to the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, the cradle of the organization.
The Sadler’s Wells Theatre is in Rosebery Avenue, in the Borough of Islington, now a middle-class residential section of London, but once a county borough. For nearly three hundred years, the site of the Sadler’s Wells Theatre has been used for entertainment purposes. Several theatres have stood on the site, and while the dance has always been prominent in its history, everything from tight-rope and wire-walking exhibitions to performing dogs and dance troupes has been seen there.
It was in 1683 that a certain Thomas Sadler, who was, apparently, a Highway Surveyor, lived there in what was then Clerkenwell, and found a well, actually a spring, having medicinal properties, in his garden. It soon was regarded as a holy well, with healing powers attributed to it. Hither came the halt, the blind and the sick to be cured, and Mr. Sadler determined to commercialize his property. On his lawn he built his Musik House, a long room with a stage, orchestra and seats for those partakers of the waters who desired refreshments as well during their imbibing—and he also provided entertainment. The well is still there today, preserved under the present theatre, but is no longer used, and the theatre’s water supply is from the municipal mains.
Rebuilt, largely by public subscription, the present theatre was opened in 1931, alternating opera and Shakespeare with the Old Vic, but eventually it became the exclusive home and base of the Sadler’s Wells Opera Company and the Sadler’s Wells Ballet Company. In 1946, when Ninette de Valois accepted the invitation of the Covent Garden Opera Trust to move the Sadler’s Wells Ballet company to the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, another company (actually the revival of another idea, the Sadler’s Wells Opera Ballet) was established at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre, and called the Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet.
Here, in a fine, comfortable, modern theatre, I saw a fresh young company, with seasoned artists, first-class productions, and some first-rate dancing: a company I felt America should know.