Salome furnishes the theme of yet another ballet in the Russians’ later style. Though Nijinsky has no connection with it the influence of his example is evident throughout. “La Tragédie de Salome” takes a place very fittingly in the same gallery as “L’Après-Midi d’un Faune,” “Jeux,” and “Le Sacre du Printemps.” That is to say, it has no story to unfold by means of music and the dance. Salome is not so much the theme, as a mere central figure of a stage picture to which motion is imparted. Nijinsky in “Le Sacre du Printemps” went to Gauguin and the post-impressionists for inspiration. Boris Romanov and Serge Soudeikine, who are responsible respectively for the choreography and the _décor_ of “La Tragédie de Salome” have singled out Aubrey Beardsley for attention. “Pure Beardsley” was the popular phrase with which the ballet was summed up on its first production. It is, of course, nothing of the sort--at least, if the phrase is to be strictly interpreted. If it were _pure_ Beardsley the ballet would be a good deal better than it is. One has some difficulty in imagining Aubrey Beardsley staging a ballet, and probably, if such a thing had happened, the result would have been very different from that which the Russians have imagined. But even supposing that Beardsley had produced on the stage something resembling what is shown us, it is perfectly certain there would have been a distinction which the present performance lacks. To put it shortly, “La Tragédie de Salome” is nothing but an aping of Beardsley, a reproduction (or shall one say, a travesty?) of certain superficial aspects of that artist’s designs, entirely uninspired by any sympathy with, or apparently even understanding of, the peculiar genius of which they were expressions. It is unfortunate, perhaps, that the assimilative Russians, when they play the sedulous ape, do so with such polished ease and _aplomb_. Their cleverness amuses, even if it fails to impress. In sheer theatrical effect this ballet of Salome is quite dazzling. Its bizarre decoration, and the eccentricity of the action, capture the eye, as the music captures the ear, by sheer audacity of assault. It is only when a conclusion is reached that the whole appears to have been a profitless, if dazzling diversion. Soudeikine’s act-drop is beyond my comprehension. So also is the scene upon which it rises--a platform enclosed by giant foliage of formal design. Much exuberance is suggested, but exuberance of _what_ is not so clear. In the middle of the stage is a tall column, upon the top of which an object, presumably the Baptist’s head, is dimly seen. Behind stands a curious pyramidal staircase.