CHAPTER XXV

CARLO BLASIS

The Dance and Ballet had made progress during the past two centuries and had reached the point when, unable to attain to greater perfection of technique, it needed some fresh artistic inspiration. Italy, however, had long been degenerate as regards the Dance, her whole artistic ambition having expressed itself in Opera and an unrivalled excellence in vocal technique. So that towards the end of the eighteenth century and for half the nineteenth, her singers were unmatched throughout the world.

The introduction of French dancers and the production of some of the ballets of French composers turned the attention of the lovers of _bel Canto_ to the possibilities of the sister art. Noverre had produced some of his ballets at Milan, and his methods and artistic taste gradually spread through Italy, his influence being further extended by several of his Italian pupils, such as Rossi and Angiolini.

It was not, however, until Carlo Blasis came to preside over the Imperial Academy of Dancing and Pantomime at Milan, 1837, that the Italian ballet began to assume any importance, and the Milan Academy, becoming recognised as the first in Europe, came in turn to influence Paris, London and other capitals of the world. Indeed, it is hardly too much to say that probably every opera house which has been established a century owes something directly or indirectly to the genius of Carlo Blasis, who in his enthusiasm for, and appreciation of, the Dance and Ballet, and in his ability to write thereon was another Noverre, but with an even wider range of talent and scholarship.

In the history of art there can be few records of such amazing power of assimilation, combined with a high standard of achievement. We have but to glance at a list of his works, to realise this. While the theory and practice of dancing were his leading theme, one to which he returned again and again, few things failed to stimulate his interest and his pen.

“_Observations sur le Chant et sur l’Expression de la Musique Dramatique_” were a series of essays contributed to a London paper. He wrote considerably on the art of Pantomime. He contributed biographies of Garrick and of Fuseli to a Milan periodical; and another of Pergolesi to a German paper. A dissertation on “Italian Dramatic Music in France,” was another of his subjects. He left in manuscript works on François Premier; on Lucan and his poem of Pharsalia; on Alexander the Great; on the Influence of the Italian Genius upon the World; on the then Modern Greek Dances; on “_La Grande Epoque de Louis XV en France, en Italie, et en Angleterre_”; a “Lexicon of Universal Erudition”; while perhaps the greatest of his works--according to contemporary criticism--was “_L’Uomo Fisico, Intellettuale e Morale_,” a book of some thousand pages.

His education had been of a kind that should incline him to take, as Bacon did, “all knowledge,” for his province. Madrolle, the famous French publicist of his period, described Blasis as “a man of the most comprehensive mind that he had ever known,” and further declared him “a universal genius.” Indeed, though he achieved fame as a _maître de ballet_, he seems really to have been a sort of super-maître of all the arts.

He was born at Naples on November 4th, 1803, the son of Francesco Blasis and Vincenza Coluzzi Zurla Blasis, both, it is said, of noble descent. The family claimed an ancestry reaching back beyond the reigns of Tiberius and Augustus, when there were patricians known as the Blasii. Machiavelli mentions the same family, and various monuments in Italy and Sicily bear the name of De Blasis.

When Carlo was two years old, his father, who had forsaken the ancestral profession of the sea for literature and music, took his family from Naples to Marseilles, where the _De_ was dropped, for political reasons, and the name became simply Blasis. Having studied the tastes and tendencies of his children somewhat carefully Francesco determined to give his son Carlo a thorough grounding in the classics and the fine arts. His daughter Teresa was taught singing and the pianoforte; and his younger daughter Virginia, who was born at Marseilles, was destined to Opera. It must be set to the credit of the fond father’s discernment and influence that each of his children achieved distinction in their own sphere and day.

The education of Carlo, we are told in a contemporary biography, “was at once literary and artistic and theatrical.” He showed such enthusiasm and ability in his studies that it was said that he might easily have become a painter, a composer of music, or a dancer and ballet-master. He finally chose the last as his profession owing to the fact that it offered more lucrative prospects as well as combining all the varied opportunities for artistic expression which his young soul craved. In other directions, however, his general education was not neglected, and the subjects he studied all came to be employed in the profession he had chosen, rendering him valuable assistance in dancing, pantomime and the composition of ballets. In later life when asked how he came to get through such masses of work as he did he used to declare: “_Le temps ne manque jamais à qui sait l’employer_,” and to add Tissot’s saying: “_Dormons, dormons, très peu; vivons toute notre vie, et pendant trois semaines que nous avons à vivre, ne dormons pas, ne soyons pas morts, pendant quinze jours._” Indeed, he _lived_ every minute of his incessantly active life, and in his later years seldom worked less than fifteen hours a day.

As a lad he studied music, in all its branches, with his father. Drawing, painting, modelling, architecture, geometry, mathematics, anatomy, literature and dancing he studied with some of the best available masters of his period, at Marseilles, Rome, Florence, Bordeaux, Bologna and Pavia; and when he came to practise his profession as ballet-master and composer, he was able not only to evolve the plot of the ballet, and explain every situation, teach every step and gesture and expression, but to furnish designs for the costumes, scenery, and mechanical effects.

He was avid of learning, and absorbed something of value from all with whom he came in contact. He haunted the artists’ studios and made a special point of visiting all he could in any town in which he happened to stay, Thorwaldsen, Longhi and Canova being among the more prominent of the sculptors and artists whom he came to know. He became a connoisseur and collector of paintings, sculpture carvings, cameos, jewellery, old instruments; had a remarkable library, not only of books in Greek, Latin, Italian, French, English, German and Spanish, but an interesting collection of music, from Palestrina to his own time, his library and gallery being valued at somewhere about ten thousand pounds.

He started his professional career and travels at the age of twelve, when he appeared as a dancer in the leading theatre at Marseilles, then at Aix, Avignon, Lyons, Toulouse; finally settling with his family for some time at Bordeaux, where he had a very successful _début_ and where--under the able direction of Dauberval, of whom we have already heard--most of the best dancers in France appeared preparatory to an engagement in Paris.

Blasis then received an invitation to the capital, where his _début_ was so extraordinarily successful that he was promptly placed in the front rank, and for a time studied under the famous Gardel, who thought so highly of him that he selected for him as partner in several ballets, Mlle. Gosselin, one of the leading dancers at the Opera, followed by Mlle. Legallois, a dancer of the classic school.

On account of intrigues and cabals--which are not, alas, unusual in the theatrical profession, or in any other perhaps--Blasis left the Opera and was next engaged at Milan, first going on a successful tour, during which he composed various ballets, notably “Iphigénie en Aulide,” “La Vestale,” “Fernando Cortez,” “Castor and Pollux,” “Don Juan” and “Les Mystères d’Isis.”

His appearance at La Scala, Milan, was triumphant, and he remained there for fourteen seasons, as dancer and ballet-composer. Then followed a successful Italian tour. Painters, sculptors and engravers as well as various poets celebrated his progress, and one Venetian painter, having seen him dancing some _pas de deux_ with his famous partner Virginia Leon, in which they entwined and enveloped themselves in rose-coloured veils--presumably very much as Mordkin and Pavlova did in the “L’Automne Bacchanale,” made sketches of the various graceful groupings and afterwards introduced them into the decorations of an apartment in the house of a rich Venetian nobleman.

There can be no doubt that the appeal of Blasis’ work to artists was greatly due not merely to his technical excellence as a dancer but to the fact that--steeped as he was in the study of music, sculpture and painting--his work was a living expression of a classic art-spirit. Again and again in his writings he emphasises the necessity the young dancer is under of studying not only music, but drawing, painting and sculpture. In one interesting passage, especially, he remarks: “It is in the best productions of painting and sculpture that the dancer may study with profit how to display his figure with taste and elegance. They are a fountain of beauties, to which all those should repair who wish to distinguish themselves for the correctness and purity of their performances. In the Bacchanalian groups which I have composed, I have successfully introduced various attitudes, arabesques and groupings, the original idea of which was suggested to me, during my journey to Naples and through _Magna Grecia_, on viewing the paintings, bronzes and sculptures rescued from the ruins of Herculaneum.”

The publication at Milan, of his first work, in French, _A Theoretical, Practical and Elementary Treatise on the Art of Dancing_, brought Blasis into prominent notice throughout the Continent and in London, owing to press notices and demands for translations of a work that was unrivalled of its kind and is valuable to-day.

In 1826 Blasis came to London, where, at the King’s Theatre, Haymarket, he was triumphantly received as dancer, actor and ballet-composer. He remained here for some time, and in 1829-1830 published his still more important work, in English, namely, _The Code of Terpsichore_ in which the whole subject of dancing is dealt with exhaustively. The book was “embellished” with numerous line-engravings, accompanied by music, composed by his sisters, Virginia and Teresa Blasis, and was dedicated to Virginia, then Prima Donna of the Italian Opera at Paris. The work was an instant success and did much to further the aim which Blasis had in all his writings, namely, the raising of the art of the Dance and Ballet nearer to a level with the other imitative arts.

The _maître_ now divided his time between England and Italy, sometimes appearing as a dancer, sometimes producing ballets of his own composition; or yet again as journalist and author, contributing articles to leading reviews, or seeing some fresh volume through the press, always occupied in propagating his school and principles, demonstrating his method, and putting into practice wherever he went every new improvement or suggestion which could advance the cause he had at heart; always encouraging and inspiring all those of his profession with whom he came in touch, with a newer and higher idea of the possibilities of theatrical dance and ballet. It was now said, indeed, that “all who followed the same profession became either his disciples or imitators.”

His triumphs as a dancer, however, were unhappily cut short during an engagement at the San Carlo, Naples, by an accident which occurred during rehearsal, some unaccountable injury to the left leg, for which every remedy was tried without avail. Though he was not unable henceforth to perform the simpler and more natural movements he found himself handicapped by a certain stiffness that made anything like a _cabriole_ or _entrechat_ impossible, and wisely decided to retire rather than diminish the fame he had already acquired as a dancer. Hereafter it was as a composer of ballets and as a widely informed writer on the arts that he elected to occupy himself, and in Italy, France and England--notably at Drury Lane--his productions both on the stage and in the Press, won him increasing recognition and respect.

In 1837 Blasis was appointed by the Italian Government Director of the Imperial Academy of Dancing and Pantomime at Milan, where the reforms he introduced and the new artistic ideal he created shortly raised it to the position of the leading Academy of the world.

By the end of the eighteenth century dancing and ballet at the Paris Opera, had grown, as we have seen, a stiff, formal, dull affair. Carlo Blasis’ rule at the Milan Academy, which put new life into the art, had a tremendous influence throughout the Continent, so much so indeed that Russia, Austria, France, and even England _all_ to-day owe something to the traditions of style and efficiency his genius laid down at that time.

The system of training he instituted then is still much the same in present-day opera-houses, from which most of the famous dancers are drawn. Pupils entered the Milan Academy at an early age. No one was admitted before the age of eight years, nor after twelve, if a girl, or fourteen, if a boy. They were to be medically examined, and be proved to have a robust constitution and to be in good health. They had to be children of respectable parents; and, when admitted, were to remain in the school, devoted to its service and to the service of the theatre for eight years. For the first three years they were to be considered as apprentices and receive no salary; those who were qualified for performance in the theatre came to receive progressive salaries. Their daily practice in the school was for three hours in the morning, from nine to twelve, at dancing; after which they were to be exercised in the art of pantomime for one hour.

To-day the training is just as severe and much the same. For the Russian ballet pupils enter the Academy at Petrograd at the age of nine and remain till eighteen. Madame Karsavina, one of the most finished dancers in the world, has told us how, even now, she continues to practise a couple of hours or more every day.

A well-known Italian _maître de ballet_ at a famous West End theatre once told me that he always practised dancing from two to three hours a day, and “pantomime” or “mime,” as it is usually called, from one to two hours. Mlle. Génée, too, has stated that she practises from two to three hours daily. Such practice is necessary, not merely to a pupil, but to a finished and successful dancer to keep the limbs absolutely supple and enable the artist to give that impression of consummate ease in performing the most difficult steps, which is the true test of the really great dancer; while the study of “miming” is equally necessary, since it is the art which gives life and expression to the dance.

Before a dancer has achieved the distinction of becoming a “star,” it may be safely reckoned that she has had from eight to ten years daily drudgery, and that her earlier years have been without financial reward, and may even have involved her parents or relatives in considerable expense for her training or apprenticeship. Given the physique, the instinct for dancing, and the intelligence, what then must the prospective “star” expect before she can become a _première danseuse_, or even a “seconde”?

Go into any large school where “toe-dancing” is taught and what will you see? A large, barely furnished room, on one or two, or perhaps on all sides of which is fixed a bar or pole, some four feet from the ground. Here, having already been thoroughly grounded in the “five positions,” which every dancer learns, the pupils, perhaps a dozen or more in number, ranging from eight upwards, will be found at “side practice,” as it is called, going through the various “positions” and steps, while one hand rests on the bar. Here she goes through the fatiguing and endless training known as practice “on the bar,” learning “_battements_,” which consist in moving one leg in the air, now forward, now back, while the other, on tip-toe, supports the body; learning the even more difficult _ronds de jambes_, or circles made by one leg while resting on the other; learning all the while to get the legs free and supple, to keep the shoulders down and the elbows loose, before proceeding to the more complex steps and poses.

After incessant drilling at the bar comes the “centre practice,” in which many of the same positions and steps are repeated with new and more difficult ones, away from the bar; until little by little after months, indeed, it may be years, of incessant practice, the young dancer becomes qualified to take a place in the minor ranks of the ballet where, in watching the more finished work of the _première danseuse_, she is further inspired to yet more arduous practice in the school or at home, in the hope of achieving a perfection that shall bring her similar rewards--a princely income, unlimited bouquets, and the clamorous applause of an adoring audience.

All this is severe enough training; but the dancer’s training always has been severe. The hard thing, from the ballet composer’s point of view is--that the individuality and artistic spirit of the dancer is, only too often, crushed by the training or at least subordinated to an exaltation of mere technique. Technique is a necessity, of course. But it was in the power of such men as Noverre and Blasis to inspire in their disciples something more than an emulation for technical efficiency, and to give them an artistic ideal which made the drudgery of their training seem worth while as a means of attaining to greater ease of artistic expression. Blasis’ influence undoubtedly ran like a quickening spirit through the capitals of Europe and led the way to that great revival of romantic ballet which marked the era of the ’forties and found its fullest and most poetic expression in the idealism of Taglioni.