Modern dancing and dancersFlitch, J. E. Crawford (John Ernest Crawford)
History
Modern dancing and dancers
Flitch, J. E. Crawford (John Ernest Crawford)
Ballet; Dance; Dancers
The modern dance
demands expression in every line of the body.
It is certain that the dance of the future will tend towards the fuller
expression of personality. We shall not be content to watch dances that
are merely dexterous, but only those that reveal a fresh and living
emotion. It will follow that the dance must become infinitely more
subtle, the body more responsive to the spirit, and the spirit more
attentive to the delicate rhythms of life. It follows also that the day
of the empty-headed, empty-hearted dancer, the simpering miss of the
pink shoes and fixed smile, will be over. We will listen for what the
artist has to say to us, and if she remains inarticulate, if she is
unable to utter a syllable of poetry or of passion or of wit, we will
politely ask her to trouble us no more.
In the future the content of the dance will be immeasurably enlarged. We
shall learn that, like the ancient Greek dance, “it deals with every
subject, grave and gay, religious and profane, decorous and indecorous;
nothing in nature is too high or too low to be outside its scope; it
embraces the whole scale of human passions.” When it is grown to its
full stature, the dance will probably combine with drama to create a new
language for the imagination. _Sumurûn_, the production of Professor Max
Reinhardt, is a type of a new art-form, neither ballet nor pantomime in
the accepted sense of the words, of which the future is bound to see a
further development. Its medium is gesture, but it is a gesture which,
unlike the gesture of the old pantomime, is never merely a transcript of
words. The twilight procession of figures to the palace of the Sheikh,
moving with the rhythm of a frieze against the blank white wall, was no
less than an event in the evolution of the dance-drama, pregnant with
suggestive ideas. It presented movements and gestures utterly
untranslatable into words, into painting or sculpture--untranslatable
even, I think, into music. They were movements which had been caught up
out of life itself, and fused by the imagination into pure symbols of
beauty and delight, of pride and passion and wit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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