THE best work of Petipa and Ivanov made Russian choreography
pre-eminent in grandeur of conception and expression. The achieve-
ment was as much Tchaikovsky's as theirs. Without the inspiration
of his music, and occasionally the music of younger composers
like Glazunov, most choreography at the end of the nineteenth
century fell into a well-worn groove. It was stifled by conventions
as formal and absurd as those which ruled society outside the theatre
walls.

The most pernicious convention was that which demanded the
total supremacy of the ballerina on stage. Everything was subordinate
to her and, after her, to the particular abilities of the leading dancers.
Most ballerinas regarded their roles as existing for them, not they
for the roles. Soloists behaved in the same way.

Often these dancers created their own variations from steps they
could do well, regardless of character, situation or musical phrasing.
This was possible because all variations followed a standard structure,
'roughly as follows:', said Fokine, 'first part, sixteen bars; second
part, sixteen bars; then a repetition of the first, another sixteen bars.' ¹
Women were expected to end their solos with some sort of fast turn
for which the orchestra provided a tremolo of appropriate length.
Men were supposed to finish with a pirouette or tour en l'air. Every
variation, therefore, became an exhibition in search of applause.

The ballerina and others in dancing roles, including the corps, con-
tinued to wear conventional classical costume of tights, tutu and so on
no matter what the story of the ballet or the role they were playing.
Jewellery and hair styles were chosen to suit themselves, not the role.
Some motif on the costume indicated, perhaps, that the character
was Spanish or Polish, rich or poor. That was all. Artists in mime
roles and supers in the same ballet, on the other hand, wore costumes
proper to setting and character. (Plate V (b).)

With such conventions ruling the stage it was exceptional to find

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