The Beauty and the Doom of that last day— No heart was in me but an empty gaping wound That reddened all the hours. We were afraid to speak: to look: to touch— At dusk within the house a dog barked wildly And at that—I heard a voice—a wizard’s voice That gave me back my heart. You spoke—and words were wands that touched and changed Passion to glory—thistles into palms You even made the silly barking of a dog Eternal in mine ears. So now the mangiest pup that howls about the world Has voice and power and magic To rend my heart in twain Or bid it rise and forth again. ---------- [3] See page 24. The Russian Ballet: It Sojourns in a Strange Land CHARLES ZWASKA We were disappointed—and we had no right to be. Authorities say this organization brings the music of the nineteenth century to its logical conclusion. Logical—see? Authorities are always that. So let’s be logical and philosophical and reason that what belongs to the nineteenth has no place this far into the twentieth century. Granted. “Well, then, what _do_ you want?” they question. I should answer _The Faun_ or something beyond this, finding its manner and inspiration in this form—interpretive, impressionistic, compressed, emotional. Of all the Ballets presented by Diaghileff’s Ballet Russe that is, to me, the most indicative of what the future is to be, so far as ballet and ballet music is concerned. We’ve had Isadora Duncan, and Jacques Dalcrose has been at work. Following are some impressions. * * * * * L’OISEAU DE FEU.—The setting an irritating green: scroll-work gates in the background. Mere finical, petty child’s scribbling in its conventionalized balancing. The characters and their work about on the same level. Bakst costumed them, but the strength of the Hunter’s garb is not carried into his action—he’s a most unvirile huntsman. And the finale! a coronation: quite the proper climax for this. Rather interesting though to have curtain fall on the incoming procession. The music—Stravinsky’s—fascinating. * * * * *