Nothing daunted, in 1951, he was preparing to try again. Death intervened, and Vassily Grigorievitch Voskresensky, better known to the world of ballet as Colonel W. de Basil, was gathered to his fathers. I was shocked but not surprised when the news reached me. He had, I knew, been living a devil-may-care existence. We had quarrelled, argued, fought. We had, on the other hand, worked together for a common end and with a common belief and purpose. He was truly an incredible man. I was enjoying a brief holiday at Evian when the news came to me, through mutual friends, that de Basil was seriously ill. “I am going to Paris to see him and to do what I can,” I told them. The next day I was at lunch when there came a telephone call from Paris. It was his one-time agent, Mme. Bouchenet, to tell me, to my great regret, that de Basil had just died. We had had our continuing differences, but his had been a labor of love; he had loved ballet passionately. He had been a truly magnificent organizer. May he rest in peace. De Basil was, I suppose, technically an amateur in the arts; but he managed to do a great service to ballet. By one means or another, he formed a great ballet company. He had the vision to sponsor one of the most revolutionary steps in ballet history since the “romantic revolution”: Massine’s symphonic ballets. In the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, he succeeded in keeping a company of warring personalities together for years. On the financial side, still an amateur, without the benefit of many guarantees from social celebrities or industrial magnates, he managed to keep going. His methods were, to say the least, unorthodox; he was amazing, fantastic, and, as I have said, incredible. He was no Diaghileff. He was de Basil. Diaghileff was a man of deep culture, vast erudition, an inspirer of all with whom he came into contact. De Basil was a sharp business man, a shrewd negotiator, an adroit manager. He was a personality. In the history of ballet, I venture to suggest, he will be remembered as the man who was the instrument by which and through which new life was instilled in the art of the ballet at a time when it was in dire danger of becoming moribund. Why and how he came to be that instrument is of little importance. The important thing is that he _was_. At the time of de Basil’s death little remained save a memory. For four seasons, at least, by reason of his instinct, his drive, his collaborators, he presented to ballet something as close to perfection as is possible to imagine. For that, all who genuinely love ballet should be grateful. * * * * *