It has been said that Nijinsky, by this recourse to primitive forms, sought to strip off modern conventions and obtain a more forceful mode of expression. But in that case it is not enough merely to copy; he should have adopted the principle, but the treatment founded upon it ought to have been his own. As it is, the true interest of the piece lies in the characterisation of the faun, and one regrets all the more the unnecessary restrictions with which Nijinsky has hampered himself, when reflecting what his genius as a dancer, given proper scope, might make of such a _rôle_. If he would but play one of Pan’s goat-footed progeny legitimately “in the round,” one might anticipate a creation to supplement, and rank alongside, his wonderful harlequin in “Le Carnaval.” [Illustration] [Illustration] JEUX. DANCE-POEM BY NIJINSKY. MUSIC BY CLAUDE DEBUSSY. CHOREOGRAPHY BY NIJINSKY. SCENERY AND COSTUMES DESIGNED BY LÉON BAKST. Nijinsky’s curious production called “Jeux” comes next in order after “Le Dieu Bleu” and “L’Après-Midi d’un Faune.” In the first of the two latter the dancer was concerned only with his individual _rôle_; his conception of that was, no doubt, his own, but his part in the ballet as a whole was subject to the directing influence of Michel Fokine. In “L’Après-Midi d’un Faune” he was emancipated from control, and the entire performance was of his devising. Having explored the past, it was natural that he should turn his attention to the present, and in “Jeux” we have an avowed attempt to treat the modern aspect of (civilised) life in terms of the ballet. The result is curious, to say the least, and not very convincing. A lot of ridiculous nonsense has been written about “Jeux.” It was first performed in Paris, and on the strength of descriptions received thence, it was labelled, long before its production in London, a “lawn tennis ballet.” As a fact, lawn tennis has nothing to do with it--nor any other particular sport or game for that matter. It is true that Nijinsky carries a racquet of some kind in his hand, on his first entry, but it is speedily laid aside and is nothing but the merest stage “property.” As for the lost ball which is the _casus belli_, so to speak, it bears as much resemblance to a tennis ball as does a pumpkin to an apple. If “Playtime” be accepted as the interpretation of “Jeux” (a translation which the Russians themselves have adopted), the ballet resolves itself into a representation of the juvenile frolics of three children. Certainly Nijinsky in his flannel shirt and trousers, Karsavina and Ludmila Schollar in their short white frocks, bare legs and little socks, look a trifle more adult than the costumes seem to warrant, but that is a circumstance which cannot very well be helped. Léon Bakst has done his best to dwarf them by his spacious garden, with its high gates and big flower plots, but inevitably the performers appear somewhat robust for their parts.