The quickly “inked” tour was a success beyond any anticipations I had had, and a second tour was booked and played with equal success. The mistake I made was when I brought her back for a third season, and with a group of her disciples. America would accept one Wigman; but twenty husky, bulky Teutonic Amazons in bathing suits with skirts were more than our public could take.
Moreover, the group was not typical of the Wigman “schule” at anything like its best. As a matter of fact, it was a long way from the Teutonic Priestess’s highest standards.
It was after the war. Mrs. Hurok and I were paying our first post-war visit to Switzerland, and stopped off at Zurich. My right-hand bower, Mae Frohman, had come to Zurich to join us. We learned that Wigman was there as well, giving master-classes in association with Harald Kreutzberg. Our initial efforts to find her were not successful.
Mrs. Hurok, Miss Frohman and I were at dinner. We were unaware that another diner in the same restaurant was Mary Wigman. It was Miss Frohman who recognized her as she was leaving the room. Wigman had changed. Time had taken its inevitable toll. The meeting was a touching one. We all foregathered in the lounge for a talk. Things were not easy for her; nor was conversation exactly smooth. Her Dresden “schule” had been commandeered by the Nazis. She was now living in the Russian sector of Germany. It had been very difficult for her to obtain permission from the Russian authorities to come to Zurich for her master-classes. She was obliged to return within a fixed period. She preferred not to talk about the war. Conversation, as I have said, was not easy. But there are things which do not require saying. My sympathies were aroused. The great, strong personality could never be quite erased, nor could the fine mind be utterly stultified.
I watched and remembered a great lady and a goodly artist. It is gratifying to me to know that she is now resident in the American zone of Berlin, and able to continue her classes.
[4.] Sextette
A. A SPANISH GYPSY
SUCH was the influence of The Swan on my approach to dance that, although she was no longer in our midst, I found myself being guided subconsciously by her direction. There were arrangements for a tour of Pavlova and a small company, for the season 1931-1932, not under my management. Death liquidated these arrangements. Had the tour been made, Pavlova was to have numbered among her company the famous Spanish gypsy dancer of the 1930’s, Vicente Escudero, one of the greatest Iberian dancers of all time.
Pavlova had championed Duncan and Wigman. I had brought them. I determined to bring Escudero to help round out the catholicity of my dance presentations. Spanish dancing had always intrigued me, and I had a soft spot for gypsies of all nationalities.