For years I have thought I understood what it was about but really, I was on the periphery. That did not stop me from waxing ridiculous when I started this blog. On I went about Le Sacre in 2006 but I wrote from the sheer emotional crush of it- the spiritual entanglement that befalls many of us lay people. To hell with the academics.
And so I count my blessings to have been connected with Millicent Hodson and Kenneth Archer. I have learned a lot about the ballet from them and also how to remain inclusive with it, never condescending. Because everyone who comes at it , comes from their own direction and there we all meet anyway. Doesn’t matter if a person is short on facts or the only one who has them, we all turn our toes in the same.
Am I going to emo-blog here? Nicholas Roerich. Yes, I knew who he was but I did not know what he did. He was, as Doctor Archer explains in this little disastrously amateur video I have thrown together, the “father of the ballet”. Without his word, Nijinsky wasn’t budging on the choreography. Which I think Stravinsky may have borrowed for his own but no matter how you slice this, they are mad Russians in the end.
Also dead. They are dead Russians.
There is a lot of online stuff liking Roerich to Rasputin and I am like “hey, I am already sold”. You don’t need to sweeten it up with darkness. Well, anymore than we already have here.
So Kenneth Archer tells the tale and I butcher it all into a video. Look! Here it is now!
The tribe depends on the sun god Jarilo to warm the earth thereupon they must immediately stomp the energies into the earth. The crops will grow, the animals will flourish and the year will be plentiful. There is no free lunch with Jarilo. He wants to be paid and – what a shocker – he wants a virgin. But he is a sick god and he wants her to commit suicide. This is one sick little marriage.
Being a virgin in Roerich’s Pagan Russia was such a known liability so why not take the chance on being a slut? I mean, I did it in 1981 and I survived. Of course, the stakes were different…anyway…
Have you ever held a door open saying “after you” to which that person says “no, after you”?
Although I can’t prove it, I’m almost certain that this exchange happened at such a level of ethereality that you have to suspend disbelief if you want to go any further in this article because only one of these people was alive.
Not for long though.
(Stay with me)
After a grueling stretch of picking the bones of this long lost skeleton we know as 1913’s “Le Sacre du Printemps”, Millicent Hodson, Kenneth Archer with Robert Joffrey presented one of the most defining moments in dance history; one so far reaching that I don’t believe anyone really knew in the beginning just how far it would go and the types of people it would reach. I am proof. So are 1200 people who have commented on the Joffrey “Le Sacre” video on YouTube since 2007. That’s another story.
Thank heavens they delivered. If they did not pursue Sacre as hard as they did for all those years to find Nijinsky’s masterpiece then I would be telling a very different tale right now perhaps called What the hell was Kenneth Macmillan thinking??
So was it good? Was the 1989 Joffrey performance – aside from being historically significant, good? That’s baby talk.
It was alarming An 80 year lost ballet became the current-day yardstick by which we measure bad choreography. That’s the bigtime.
But let’s talk about the young man who was deliberately left behind: Vaslav Nijinsky.
Denied, cast off, crumbling mentally, no longer dancing, fearing his life is becoming threadbare, he suffered from the cold fact that his masterpiece was not only misunderstood, but intentionally forgotten. Slowly, he became notes left in a drawer here, a scrap there, a memory, a sketch…he was being erased.
Each year his ghost became less until it had no voice , until there was no form, until only the vague defeated lingering presence of Nijinsky was occasionally alert in the wings of some stage or other, certain that he would never see his work realized, or even be realized for it.
Someone is reading this thinking all that is missing is mist floating around a fat soprano hollering Italian at us. And one can think that, absolutely. They would, however, be missing the biggest piece of this undefinable salvage of dance and spirit and the mystery of human nature but, hey, stick with the probable and I will take the possible. Like Jerry Lewis at a Mariinsky reception, I will still take the possible.
Now remember what Stravinsky said about being “the vessel through which le sacre passed”? If Stravinsky’s own words hold sway on the concept of receiving something – and we are talking about a man proclaimed a genius for all time – then the logic would follow that there was, indeed, a deep spiritual event taking place that spring in the months leading up to May 29, 1913. Of course “Spiritual Event At The Rite” doesn’t sell like “Riot…” and well well, here we are.
But it never happened.
With the first whistle or yell or shout, there was an undoing of what should have been done and by an annoying rioting aristocracy. However…when you examine our own human nature it is likely that these people railed against themselves and their own inability to see, hear or process what was going on. It was a sensory overload and when we do not understand something or we are disturbed by something that feels strange we lash out. We do not, in all cases, stretch ourselves to meet the strangeness.
These French patrons of the arts were stuffy, entitled and living in an era where it was acceptable to be so and their money dictated the stage. Wrong people. Wrong era. And there would be no stretching. Just an effigy.
Stravinsky was flush and Nijinsky never had a chance. Imagine, to be so thickly present and indulged the world over, draped in accolades and given the opportunity to choreograph what will be synonymous with your name, you go all in and lose it all.
He did something so risky with the Sacre choreography because he had the courage to stand by his artistic vision and honor the scenario. How many artists will walk head held high all the way to a metaphorical dumpster without giving in? It’s unlikely he considered it this way because the few who have followed their artistic calling are not aware of how big that moment is.
Nijinsky broke the ground and opened a door for everyone who couldn’t or, worse, didn’t . Then someone reached from the other side and helped him keep in open: Robert Joffrey.
Millicent Hodson, in congress with forces she may have suspected – I think she did – brought something close to perfection to the stage . Did she and Kenneth Archer realize the alchemy of that? Did they suspect that Nijinsky was present? Or that he was finally free after 70 silent years to create a crown from an albatross?
Did he feel the weight of his loss become weightless in Robert Joffrey’s triumph? I say yes. Nijinsky left what meant the most to him as an inheritance to a man who would soon die and leave it to what meant the most to him: his ballet company.
What explanation is there for a regularly changing group of dancers to exist for 34 minutes as something outside of themselves year in and year out? To even exist for 4 minutes in that unmoored and almost aggressive space would be a struggle at best. But not for them.
Robert Joffrey got that choreography onto the stage before he died, freeing Nijinsky. Who waited at the door to free Robert Joffrey. And together they left. One hell of an Inheritance.
Years back I got my hands on the Ballet Boyz’ “Rite of Spring” which starts out in a unique way but man I have never seen anything crash and burn so fast. There is this old BDSM lady who makes angry faces who walks around during Spring Rounds and I wrote:
“What’s with the old dominatrix lady making faces during Spring Rounds?”
They forced a hard copyright violation on Youtube. I think that was the last public appearance of this casserole of nonsense.
So watch the opening 3 minutes if you can and then…should you actually be reading this…tell me it’s great. I’m sure this is the first time you will see it. Tell me it’s 2nd only to Nijinsky. And include your address because I WILL come bitch slap you. You may not know when….but bet on it.
If your ballet sucks and you get someone who is syndicated to write how bad it is…take it! You will likely never even get asked to do Circue du Soleil so take any mention you can get.
Lord Henry Wotton said “The only thing worse than being talked about is NOT being talked about.” Actually, Oscar Wilde said it and stuffed it into The Picture of Dorian blah blah”. Here is the “ballet” for you to judge for yourself:
Who is Heather Aagard? She was the catalyst for the Chosen One Collections, for this ongoing search to find every dancer who stepped into that Circle and danced herself to death.
She was given the opportunity only once by the Joffrey Ballet and it changed her life. But there would be no photo no program no listing. I have found these things for almost everyone because of her but not for her .
Dancer #5 in your companies, nothing but a blurry photo for posterity, unknown in history but you, dear “Firsts”, are eternal. You are the dancers who actually created The Chosen One.
The emotional breakdown of being made to dance yourself to your own death did not yet exist.
The steps, yes. The concept, yes. But that was all.
And so when you performed you were flying blind. Each night, with that first jump, you were fleshing out the Sacrificed Virgin. It is you, the dancers not worth filming, the girls in the chorus who are responsible for creating that crucial element that has solidified Le Sacre du Printemps for all time: the Chosen One’s desperate struggle. The theoretical character existed through and was nurtured by Hodson and Archer and generously of course.
But ultimately you, all alone in Roerich’s dark libretto against Stravinsky’s frenetic Rite and Nijinsky’s choreographic “fuck you” to ballet would have to present the torture of the Chosen One and it would have to come from within your own selves.
Her struggle to survive would have to come from your own struggles. Her fear, anxiety, confusion, resistance and abandon – all within the difficulty of that performance – would have to be yours. In the moment, swimming in your own painful experiences on stage before an audience looking for Le Sacre du Printemps,YOU, the under-valued, seldom thought of dancer, were breathing life and death into the Chosen One.
In the Spanish Inquisition of solos.
You are the “all-in Ballerinas” – the ones who pushed through the slow shock and growing momentum of that solo, creating something that would set the pace for the dancers to come and the expectation of audiences forever. You were creating the most important aspect of the Chosen One through the sacrifice of your own pain. You were the groundbreakers. And groundbreakers are not likely to be recognized in their own time.
Just ask Nijinsky.
You were bearing a mighty responsibility in the silence while those around you carried nothing in the celebrations. One internal experience, one performance at a time, you created the great role that the great dancers would not perform.
Those few early clips and photos I have found are a fury of intensity. And as I have poured over your photos and performances, each time there is something new and something new then something else. I don’t think anything like this will ever happen again. I don’t. Do you?
Cristian Maciel wears a haughty expression in the Mystic Circle. “I will not be intimidated”. She dies anyway.
This shot of Anabel Segura…CNB put no names to their company photos – had to get it from other dancers…is raw with agony and this deep torture that looks like it is tearing through her.
As it tore through Susanna. Alba. Nina. Katja. Renata. One by one, you poured yourself into this great and painful process until at last The Chosen One truly existed.
I get pissed off when I see a company or soloist going through the motions, walking to their marks without any idea of what’s happening and probably not interested in learning (see any Mariinsky Act One performance).
It’s been 30 years and for them it is not a new thing, its impact is lost, it is just another ballet, what time is the party? Soloists stroll through the steps fraught with your emotional experiences with blank faces or feigned suffering. It’s a ballet. An obligation. There are steps which exhaust you and then it’s over and let’s take some selfies or whatever.
But for you…for you, Le Sacre du Printemps was not an obligation but a deep invitation that only you could hear and would you take that chance?. It’s your own journey through your own dark night. With your toes turned in.
One “forgotten” told me she cried while dancing, overwhelmed by her own past. Another told me it was an out-of-body experience. And another said it was so cathartic that she didn’t need a photo, she will always have that moment of her single performance.
These women have no photos.
And some of the “firsts and forgottens” don’t care at all which leaves me to conclude they didn’t contribute a thing to the creation of this tragic ballet heroine anyway.
I look at Elizabeth Lopez at the end of the solo, coming out of those few turns throwing her head back, her arms into a sharp punctuating position with an exactness I don’t see anywhere. And at the point of physical exhaustion in the performance! It is her signature. Some dancer somewhere has used it but has no idea who Elizabeth is.
Beatriz Rodriguez is still getting 2 feet from the stage in the last leaps as if she’s spring loaded. It is amazing! And through out her performance – I don’t know what was behind it – but her mouth would be open as if she were crying out in madness which would make sense for the character but in that very first performance? That was from her own world, her own small space. And has been mimmicked but seldom felt.
As the center, as the pinnacle, as the point of the thing you were each presenting this EVENT to the world. You suffered Le Sacre du Printemps and it is everlasting even if it is by way of Pavlenko doing Straccamore .
Today they perform the intense role of your emotional sacrifice. They get the luck of performing something with a blueprint, but not the privilege of creating it.
Feeling it.
And owning it.
Today it is not likely that this photo above of would be identified as Ana Lacerda despite her success.
Today, I will have at least one comment on my Youtube channel on the 1987 Joffrey video; people seeing it for the first time, freaking out, asking questions and I can draw a direct line from that comment on Beatriz’ first contribution to Alba Tapia’s last but I can’t show it because of shitty companies who did not understand the historical significance of debuting Le Sacre and the privilege of having dancers who would dare to perform it.
The students and viewers on YouTube will never see your Firsts, those who should be remembered as the owners of The Chosen One.
For that dreadful act, YOU should be remembered.
Heather Aagard
I might poke a stick at this for a bit. You might get what you want out of me then disappear. You might share something of yourself with us which is Nijinsky. After all – that’s who we are,
le sacre du printemps: the collections 