Vic-Wells Ballet It may be that something in the episodic non-dramatic form of the masque appeals strongly to the English temperament. Opera based on Italian singers imported from abroad never became indigenous but the non-dramatic oratorio initiated by Handel flourishes here still. Had Charles II encouraged ballet as he encouraged music and drama at the Restoration and had he brought a band of twenty-four French dancers as well as a band of twenty-four French violins back with him from France, the history of ballet in England might have been different. Be that as it may, when native ballet as opposed to imported ballet again became a reality, it was no longer in a world of formality and sophistication, nor in the heyday of a Romantic Movement, but in the chaotic period between two wars, a time of disillusionment and defeatism in public affairs and of instability and unreason in art. The new movement might have been escapist. Instead, with clear-eyed judgment, it offered a critical commentary and relied on style for its effect. The Rake's Progress (1935), composed some four years after Job by the same choreographer to a lively score by Gavin Gordon, employs no great forces; though there is a deal of fine dancing in it, yet it is in spirit still a dance-drama, dancing and miming being fused into one. By this time British dancers had come forward from the Sadler's Wells Ballet School to fill the gap caused by the departure of the Anglo-Russian soloists, Markova and Dolin, and an English style was emerging. And how successful was the result, how powerful its effect! Inspired directly by Hogarth's paintings, The Rake's Progress is a true recreation of painting in terms of dancing and is the most English of all the ballets danced by the Sadler's Wells Company and one of the most satisfying. Let us look more closely at this microcosm of eighteenth-century life. From the moment when Rex Whistler's exquisite drop-curtain of Old London invites the audience back into the past, everything that happens on the stage is a delight to the eye. We see the young man of fashion, surrounded by masters and tutors, servants and flunkeys, his friend in attendance. He must learn to dance, fence, to play cards, to be an accomplished musician and a man of the world. The hairdresser curls his wig, the tailor brings him a new coat. The scene, with all these men pursuing their various avocations, is not only a brilliant piece of choreography but pure Hogarth. The Rake moves from the world of fashion through amorous intrigues and wild scenes of dissipation to the world of vice, the orgy and the gaming table—and the flavour is equally authentic. We see, with the eye of the painter, the whole shocking story unfolding itself, to the final painful scene in the madhouse, a tract for the times. For all its eighteenth-century flourish this ballet, dealing as it does with real people and not creatures of fantasy, with a fine sense of period and without false sentiment of any kind, is the descendant of the sixteenth-century morality play; for though the story is told in terms of ballet, it is touched with deep moral indignation. Two years later Ninette de Valois added to her laurels by producing Checkmate for the British Week at the Paris Exhibition. For this an exciting original score had been prepared by Arthur Bliss, who had worked out a strongly dramatic theme, while striking decor and costumes were designed by E. McKnight Kauffer. Twenty-nine dancing parts gave the choreographer full scope and the company a chance of displaying their skill. The theme was exactly suited to the medium of ballet. It was original and decorative, the stage a vast chessboard on which every dancer was a Piece, the protagonists in the game, Love and Death. In this arresting mise-en-scene we remember in particular the grand processional entry of the old King on the arm of his Queen, the menacing Black Castles manoeuvring for place, the dance of the gallant Red Knight and his treacherous slaying by the Black Queen, the helpless old Red King cowering on his throne (everything about throne in aegean civilization). The final attack on the Red King, who is hemmed in and chivied from place to place by advancing Black Pieces with staves in their hands, is derived from a Northumbrian sword dance and shows great invention. It was seen on the television screen in May 1938, the producer making most interesting play with shadows and using a telescopic lens for close-up shots of individual Pieces. The malicious smile of the Black Queen as she stabbed the Red Knight remains an inescapable memory. It is melancholy to recall that Checkmate was taken to Holland in May 1940, together with the original Facade, The Rake's Progress and three other ballets, and all the dresses and scenery were lost in the invasion of that country, together with the musical scores and parts, the company barely escaping with their lives. One by one the lost ballets have been restored to the repertory, but Checkmate has never reappeared, nor has Horoscope with its interesting score by Lambert, one of Ashton's most characteristic creations. After the success of his Camargo productions Ashton joined the Vic-Wells Ballet as guest choreographer in 1933 and for the next ten years he worked with that company. Already he had produced a score of ballets, great and small: he is the most prolific of choreographers. All his work has a certain fluency, poetic feeling and distinction. He gives the public what they call 'real dancing' and is the master of the divertissement, the romantic story, the tone-poem and the satirical sketch. He has a keen sense of humour tinged with irony and a great sense of atmosphere. Les Rendezvous (1933), with Auber's sparkling music, is still fresh and delightful to-day. Apparitions (1936), to music of Liszt, treats the romantic theme of the Symphonic Fantastique with considerable success and far less effort than Massine did with his large-scale ballet. Nocturne, produced the same year, is Paris of the 'nineties, to the music of Delius' tone-poem Paris and decor of Sophie Fedorovitch, a combination so successful that many consider it his best work. Les Patineurs (1937), to music of Meyerbeer, already the subject of a skating ballet of the 'fifties, gives an opportunity for a series of entrancing dances in which charm, beauty and humour are delightfully blended and for which William Chappell has de­signed exactly the right costumes. A Wedding Bouquet (1937), a witty extravaganza composed and designed by Lord Berners round some poems of Gertrude Stein, is good fun and a new departure into the realms of satirical burlesque at the expense of the less eminent Victorians. In all these ballets Ashton showed his versatility, ranging from frivolous pastiche to deep romanticism. Article Vic-Wells Ballet was readed 636 times.