Of Oriental flavor are the Armenian folk-dances, which the writer saw many years ago performed by Armenian students to the music of a queer mandolin-like instrument and the rhythmic beats of the drum played by the dancer with his fingers. This drum gives a register of six or seven different tones and adds its peculiar effect to the whole. It seems that most of the Armenian dances are executed by a single dancer, either man or woman, in bent, erect, arched and twisted positions, often standing on a single spot for minutes. Though languorous and weird, they possess a grace of their own.
In no other country have the folk-dances reached such a variety of forms, such a high degree of development and an individuality so distinctly racial and rich in dramatic and imaginary poses, steps, gestures and mimic expressions as in Russia. In the Russian dances we can trace the elements of all the hundreds of ancient and modern tribes and nationalities who have been molten in one homogeneous mass of people, a world in itself. Here the Orient and Occident have found a united form for their æsthetic expressions, with no relation to those of the West-European nations. The Russian dances, like the country itself, are a mixture of contrasts and extremes: melancholy and yet gay, simple and even sweet; ghastly yet fascinating and seductive; mysterious and yet open as the prairies of its own boundless steppes; old and yet young. All these contrasts and contradictions may be found reflected in the essentials of the Russian folk-dance. Like the semi-Oriental style of architecture, now curved and gloomy, then suddenly straight and dazzlingly brilliant, occasionally bizarre and fantastic, but strongly inclined to the romantic and the mystic forms, are the innumerable figures and steps of the Russian dances. In Russia more than in any other country the sexual diversity in the style of the steps, poses and mimic display is subjected to a most careful consideration. The woman is neither equal nor inferior to the man. She occupies her dignified position in the slightest move, by remaining more subtle, tender and passively fascinating, while the man’s rôle often is extravagantly masculine, sometimes even rough. No Russian dance puts the two sexes on the same level æsthetically and dramatically. The couple dance is an unknown, or at best a rather crude, conception to a Russian.
Up to this time no one has yet made a thorough study of all the Russian folk-dances, as each province and district has its particular traditions and dances. The Volga region, having once been inhabited by Bulgarian and Tartar tribes, has a more nomadic and adventurous dance style than the dreamy peasants of Kostroma and Nijny Novgorod. The dances of the Little Russians are more joyful and humorous than those of more northern regions, but they are also less elaborate and less dramatic. The dances of the provinces of Novgorod and Pskoff possess an unusual tendency towards the legendary and towards free forms of plastic expression, as if meaning to express tales of a golden age in the past when they had a republican form of government and a democratic evolution. The dances of the Caucasian and Crimean regions are outspokenly romantic and epic, those of Siberia tragic and heroic.
Fundamentally, the Russian folk-dances can be divided into four different groups: the ballad dances, or Chorovody; the romantic dances of the Kamarienskaya type; the dramatic dances of the Kasatchy type; the bacchanalian dances of the Trepak type; and the unlimited number of humorous, gay, amusing and entertaining country dances—the so-called Pliasovaya—of purely local flavor. Besides these there are the historic ballad dances, such as ‘Ivan the Terrible’, ‘Ilia Murometz,’ and others. The Cossack dance, Lesginka, the Kaiterma, the Polowetsi dances, the Vanka, and others of this kind, are dances of a rather local character, though they have spread all over the country.
The oldest and most varied of Russian folk-dances are the Chorovody, or the ballad dances, performed only to the singing voices of the dancers themselves. This is a kind of ring dance like the old French Round. In some dances the men reach their hands to the girls, in others they touch each other with their elbows only, as the girls keep their hands on their hips, while the men cross them on their breast. The real dance is performed inside the ring, usually by a girl, who sometimes has a man partner; this dance may be pantomimic, humorous or full of wildest joy and agility. The writer has witnessed some Chorovody which were performed with such skill and finesse of plastic pose and mimic art as to leave many ballet celebrities far in the background. The Russian folk-dancer employs every inch of his body, his hands, legs, toes, heels, hips, shoulders, head and the mimic art so masterfully and correctly that you must often marvel his born talent and lively interest in dancing. However, in all folk-dances the women seem to play the leading rôle, the men merely supporting them with the contrasted figures.
The Chorovody were used by the mediæval Boyars in a more refined and poetic style for their social functions and the entertainment of their guests. Later they were introduced to the court and finally they were employed in the Russian ballets and operas. Ivan the Terrible was fond of Chorovody dances and often danced them himself, as did also other Russian rulers. The aristocratic Chorovody, however, grew more stately and artificial and lost their racial freshness. Catherine the Great sent her chamberlains to every province to invite the best folk-dancers to come to the court, which they did. All dances of this type are picturesque, romantic, poetic and restrained in their expression.
An entirely different dance is the Kasatchy, danced by a man and a woman at the same time. This is more a man’s than a woman’s dance. He selects his partner and proceeds to execute a series of seductive motions around her, while she demurely hangs her head, refusing for a while to be seduced by his allurements. At length she thaws and begins to sway in harmony with his manly but graceful movement. Now they bend and bow together, and swerve from side to side, the while performing a multitude of gestures depicting timidity and embarrassment, till finally from shy, half-tearful expression of love and flirting glances they proceed with gay eyes expressive of the most burning devotion. Now the dance waxes fierce and fast, in and out they circle, turn and twist, ever now and then reverting to that crouching posture, so commonly seen in the Russian folk-dances. Finally they meet in close embrace and whirl with incredible rapidity round and round, till thoroughly out of breath and dizzy from their effort, they sink exhausted on a friendly bench.
The Kamarienskaya is a bride’s dance, in which the girl symbolizes all the imaginary bliss and happiness of her future married life. In the first part, which consists of a soft legato, she dances dreamily but dramatically, using conspicuously every muscle of her body and her arms to express the imagined love motions that she will perform in meeting her beloved. Thus the pantomime continues on to the blissful moment of meeting, which she performs like a whirlwind, until, unexpectedly stopping, she ends the dance with a slightly disappointed, humorous expression.
Since our space is limited, the writer must refrain from more detailed and further description of the previously mentioned types of the Russian folk-dances. He need only repeat that they surpass by far the folk-dances of all the rest of the world, in that they are so much more racial, so rich in plastic lines, and so perfect in their artistic appeal; it seems as if a remarkable genius had presided over their invention and execution. They are masterfully original from the beginning and continually furnish new ideals of choreographic beauty. They draw their inspiration from some rich fountain unknown to the Occidentals. They are too fresh, vigorous and alive to be perverse.
Thus having drawn kaleidoscopic sketches of the primitive racial choreographic impulses of a number of the civilized and barbaric races, we can come to the conclusion that in these alone are to be found the sound and virile germs of lasting individual or highly developed national art-dance. Ethnographic essentials are the next stepping-stones to a more developed future cosmic choreography, and in this the folk-dances give the most eloquent elementary lessons. As from a mute conversation we learn from the ethnic dances in what manifold forms one and the same beauty can manifest itself to the human mind. The ethnic symbols are graphic and true to the spirit of the thing expressed; for this reason a folk-dance, no matter how coarse, how grotesque and how strange it seems, is yet sincere and intelligible to the open-hearted observer. It always impresses one as something manly and direct, sound and firm.