CHAPTER XXIX

LUCILE GRAHN (“EOLINE”)

Lucile Grahn was born at Copenhagen, June 30th, 1821, and is said to have been so delighted with a ballet to which she was taken when only four years old, that she forthwith insisted on learning to dance, and made her regular theatrical _début_ as Cupid when she was seven!

For a time she left the stage in order to pursue her studies as a dancer. After seven years of the usual and always taxing training she reappeared, at the age of fourteen, first in “La Muette de Portici,” following with success in a ballet of her own composition, “Le Cinq Seul,” then creating the _rôle_ of the Princess Astride, in a ballet entitled “Waldemar,” and followed with the title-_rôle_ in “Hertha,” both Scandinavian in subject.

Then she proceeded to Paris, and after studying a while under Barrez, was recalled suddenly to Copenhagen to take part in a fête arranged in honour of the Queen of Denmark, and so did not make her Parisian _début_ until she appeared at the Opera in “Le Carnaval de Venise,” in 1838, in which she achieved an immediate success, only excelled in the following year when she captured all Parisians’ hearts in the ballet which Taglioni had already made famous--“Sylphide.”

Unhappily, in the spring of 1840, her career was interrupted by an accident while rehearsing a _variation_ which she was to perform at the benefit of Madame Falcon, the singer; and in consequence of inflammation of the knee she was laid up for some time in spite of the most careful attention. She never appeared at the Paris Opera again; but in the next few years her recovery was sufficient to allow of her achieving many successes in London, as well as taking part in the famous Quartette.

In 1844 she appeared in “Lady Henriette” at Drury Lane, and in the following Spring was engaged for the entire season of the Italian Opera at Her Majesty’s, where she won the most dazzling of her successes in a ballet entitled “Eoline,” produced in April, 1845.

A contemporary critic records the production in the following amusingly naïve terms: “The ballet ‘Eoline,’ with its poetic story, and its lovely feminine features (_sic_), was the great hit of the first night, spite the difficulties of complicated scenery and mechanical effects. The ballet worked wonders, and Lucile Grahn exhibits nightly the most delightful grace and modesty of deportment, in addition to certainty and aplomb of position, reminding one of Canova’s masterpieces of sculpture.”

Grahn made a great success as Catarina in “La Fille du Bandit,” during May, 1848. According to one critic it “exhibited her talents in a higher degree than anything she has previously appeared in. As the bandit’s daughter she assumes a dignified bearing, like that of one born to command, and supports it throughout whether in dancing or action ... and the grace of her solos commands numerous encores.”

Yet greater success followed in “Le Jugement de Pâris,” the honours therein, however, being shared with Cerito and Taglioni. This appearance was in connection with one of the most striking sensations of the theatrical season of 1848 (certainly the most remarkable in the history of ballet, save for the famous _Pas de Quatre_ of three years before), namely, the _Pas des Déesses_, which was performed in the presence of Her Majesty Queen Victoria.

Even the Russians of our day never evoked greater excitement or enthusiasm than that which greeted the appearance of these three great dancers of the ’forties in one ballet. A contemporary critic, contrasting the production with that of the former _Pas de Quatre_ remarked that “for poetry of idea and execution the _Pas des Déesses_ has decidedly the advantage,” and goes on to say: “Besides this, though the attention is principally directed to the three great _danseuses_, yet the grouping is rendered far more effective by the addition of other actors.

“The _Pas des Déesses_ has another recommendation; it is longer, and the intervals while the three ‘stars’ are resting themselves, are filled up by the charming butterfly steps of Louise Taglioni, and the most incredible feats on the part of St. Leon and Perrot. In fact, all here surpass themselves--of Taglioni, Grahn, Cerito, each in turn seems to obtain the advantage--though, of course, the palm is finally adjudged by each spectator accordingly as his taste is originally inclined. For ourselves, as critics, obliged to put away all previous predilections, we are compelled to confess that each in her peculiar style, in this _pas_, reaches the _ne plus ultra_ of her art, and each is different.

“Though the styles of Taglioni and Lucille Grahn at first sight would seem to be identical, yet they have both their own peculiar characteristics. The buoyant energy of Grahn contrasts with that peculiar quietness that marks Taglioni’s most daring feats, while Cerito, who by her very smallness of stature, seems fitted by nature for another style of dancing, bounds to and fro, as though in the plenitude of enjoyment. We have never seen either of these great _danseuses_ achieve such wonders as in this _pas_. The improvement of Lucile Grahn is, above all, marvellous; she introduces a step entirely new and exquisitely graceful; and, though it must be of most difficult achievement, she executes it with an ease and lightness which gives her the appearance of flying. It is a species of _valse renversée_ on a grand scale. One of the most effective moments with Cerito is that in which she comes on with St. Leon, executing a _jetés battus_ in the air, and, at the same moment, turning her head suddenly to catch a sight of the much-desired apple. This never fails to elicit thunders of applause, and an encore.

“As for Taglioni, after taking the most daring leaps in her own easy and exquisitely graceful manner, she flits across the stage with a succession of steps, which, though perfectly simple, are executed with such inconceivable lightness and such enchanting grace, as invariably to call forth one of the most enthusiastic encores we ever remember to have witnessed; in fact, from beginning to end of the _divertissement_, all the spectators are kept in a state of excitement, which finds vent in clappings, in shoutings, and _bravas_, occasionally quite deafening.”

The reference to the styles of Taglioni and Lucile Grahn as being almost “identical” is made additionally interesting by the discerning manner in which the critic contrasts the “buoyant energy of Grahn” with that “peculiar quietness” that marked Taglioni’s most daring efforts.

Both had studied in the traditional school and to that extent were bound to be somewhat similar. Their differences were due to physique and temperament, Grahn, the fair Dane, was somewhat heavier in build, had always been stronger and was also younger than Taglioni, who, weakly in childhood, had always been of more _raffinée_ build and temperament, and was now perhaps a shade less energetic than in the days when she had delighted London with her earliest appearances some fifteen years before. Still, that “peculiar quietness” had always distinguished her and was that very quality which had made her so ideal an exponent of “Sylphide.”

Lucile Grahn, who was tall, slim, with blue eyes and blonde hair, was said, as regards her dancing, to possess “less strength than Elssler, less flexibility than Taglioni, but more of both than anyone else.”

She appeared in London each season until 1848, when the arrival of Jenny Lind created such a craze for Opera--and for Jenny Lind--that Ballet temporarily lost its attraction for London audiences. She comes close to our own times, for she died at Munich in the spring of 1907.