Although the founders were American, as was the backing, there was no slavish chauvinism in its repertoire, which was cosmopolitan and catholic. Only two of its eleven choreographers were natives: Eugene Loring and Agnes de Mille. The company was international. Three of the choreographers were English: Anton Dolin, Andrée Howard, and Antony Tudor. Four were Russian: Michel Fokine, Adolph Bolm, Mikhail Mordkin, Bronislava Nijinska.
Only five of the eighteen works that made up the repertoire of the introductory season of Ballet Theatre remain in existence: Giselle, originally staged, after the traditional production, by Anton Dolin, who had joined the venture after an Australian stint with de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe; Swan Lake, in the one-act version, also staged by Dolin; Fokine’s masterpiece, Les Sylphides; the oldest ballet extant, La Fille Mal Gardée, staged by Bronislava Nijinska; and Adolph Bolm’s production of the children’s fairy tale, Peter and the Wolf, to the popular Prokofieff orchestral work, with narrator.
It was significant to me that the outstanding successes of that first season were the classics. First, there was Les Sylphides, restored by the master himself. This, coupled with Dolin’s Swan Lake, and Giselle, constituted the backbone of the standard repertoire.
The first four weeks’ season was, perhaps, as expensive a balletic venture as New York has known, with the possible exception of the Ballet International of the Marquis de Cuevas, some four years later.
Following Ballet Theatre’s introductory burst of activity, there was a hiatus, during which the company gave sporadic performances in Philadelphia, some appearances at the Lewisohn Stadium in New York, and appeared in Chicago in conjunction with the Chicago Opera Company.
Before Ballet Theatre embarked on its second season, trouble was cooking. There were indications Lucia Chase and Pleasant were not seeing exactly eye to eye. The second New York season was announced to open at the Majestic Theatre, on 11th February, 1941. Now the Majestic Theatre is a far cry from the wide open spaces of the Center Theatre. It is the house where I had given a brief and costly season with de Basil’s Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in the early days, on a stage so small that no justice can be done to dance or dancers, and where the capacity does not admit of meeting expenses even when sold out.
Pleasant’s newest idea, announced before the season opened, was to present a “company.” There were to be no distinctions or classifications of dancers. One of the time-honored institutions of ballet was also abolished; there was no general stage director, or régisseur-general, as he is known in the French terminology of ballet. Instead, the company was divided, like all Gaul, into three parts, to be known as “Wings,” with Anton Dolin in charge of the “Classic Wing”; Antony Tudor, of the “English Wing”; Eugene Loring, of the “American Wing.” Five new works were added to the repertoire, of which only two remain: Eugene Loring’s Billy the Kid, to one of Aaron Copland’s finest scores, and Agnes de Mille’s Three Virgins and a Devil, to Ottorino Respighi’s Antiche Danze ed Arie. Dolin’s Pas de Quatre, produced at this time, has been replaced in the company’s repertoire by another version.
The differences between Pleasant and Chase came to a head, and the former was forced to resign at the end of the four weeks’ season, which resulted in more substantial losses.
It was at this time that I was approached on behalf of the organization by Charles Payne, seeking advice as to how to proceed. We lunched together in Rockefeller Plaza, and while I am unable to state that the final decision was wholly mine or that the terminal action was taken exclusively on my advice, I counselled Payne that, in my opinion, the only course for them to follow would be to close down the company completely, place everything they owned into storage, and start afresh after reorganization. Receipts at the box-office having fallen as low as $319 a performance, there was no other choice. In any event, my advice was followed.
Reorganization was under way. In an organization of this magnitude and complexity, reorganization was something that took a great deal of both thought and time. It was by no means a simple matter. While the reorganization was in its early, indecisive stages, with protracted debates going on within the circle as to whether it should continue in any form or fold its wings in the sleep everlasting, Anton Dolin came to me to ask me to take over the management of the venture.