
In "Secret of the Russian Ballet," Carl Van Vechten argues that the true achievement of Serge de Diaghilew's company lies not in any single virtuoso but in its group-spirit — a collective aesthetic that fuses painting, music, and choreography into unified pictorial drama. He opens by placing the Ballet alongside other group-driven theatrical movements of the era, such as Max Reinhardt's productions, Stanislawsky's Moscow company, and the Irish Theatre movement, before asserting that none matched the Russian Ballet's cultural reach, which he claims extended even into European politics and fashion. Van Vechten traces the company's origin to Paris, where it began not as dance but as an art exhibition of paintings by Bakst and other Russian artists — two seasons still officially counted among the Ballet's history. This origin, he contends, explains why the Ballet remained fundamentally a picture-show in motion, and why its decorative innovations reshaped Western fashion: designers like Paul Poiret, Paul Iribe, and George Barbier, and publications like the "Gazette de Bon-Ton," all drew directly from its color schemes and costume silhouettes, from the crinolines of "Papillons" to the Orientalism unleashed by Bakst's "Sheherazade." He surveys the principal designers — Roerich, Bakst, Fedorowsky, Soudeikine, Golovine, Doboujinsky, Benois, and Gontcharova — crediting each with distinct triumphs: Roerich's barbaric Polovtsian camp for "Prince Igor" and his settings for Strawinsky's "The Sacrifice to the Spring"; Fedorowsky's decorations for "La Khovanchina"; Soudeikine's costumes for Florent Schmitt's "Salome"; and Gontcharova's daring color work for "The Golden Cock." Bakst receives the fullest treatment, culminating in an extended description of "The Legend of Joseph," Richard Strauss's ballet staged on a Veronese-inspired set designed by José-Maria Sert and dressed by Bakst, whose signature touch — exposing the dancers' silk-hosed legs beneath Venetian brocades — Van Vechten highlights as historically authentic rather than merely titillating. Turning to music, he emphasizes that the Ballet elevated serious, even radical modern composition to popular attention, citing Ravel's "Daphnis et Chloë," Debussy's "Jeux," Reynaldo Hahn's "Le Dieu Bleu," Steinberg's "Midas," Tcherepnine's "Narcisse," and above all Strawinsky's "The Firebird," "Petrouchka," and "The Sacrifice to the Spring," which he ranks among the greatest musical achievements of his time. He discusses works adapted from existing concert pieces — Balakirew's symphonic poem "Thamar," Rimsky-Korsakow's "Sheherazade" (produced over the composer's widow's objections), and Debussy's "Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune" — comparing critical reception in Chicago, New York, and London, and noting how Nijinsky's staging of "L'Après-midi d'un Faune" scandalized Paris audiences in 1912 despite Debussy's own approval, provoking a public dispute between critic Paul Souday and sculptor Rodin. He then catalogues the lighter, more classically balletic works — "Les Sylphides," "Papillons," "Carnaval," and "Le Spectre de la Rose" — describing their Chopin and Schumann-based scores and Bakst's costuming, and reproduces a London Times account of "Le Dieu Bleu" and its Indian-fantasy setting. The barbaric "Prince Igor" dances receive particular praise for their controlled wildness, quoting a critic on how the choreography evokes the historical menace of the Polovtsian horde. Van Vechten credits choreographer Michel Fokine as the organizing genius behind these effects, explaining how Fokine broke from rigid symmetrical formations to subdivide dancers into interacting groups synchronized with the music's own polyphony, often drawing inspiration from paintings by Veronese, Mantegna, Bellini, and Carpaccio. He also acknowledges Nijinsky's own choreographic ventures — "L'Après-midi d'un Faune," "Jeux," and "The Sacrifice to the Spring" — as strikingly original in their own right. The essay closes with character studies of the two leading dancers. Nijinsky is celebrated at length as a performer of near-superhuman technical control and dramatic depth, singled out for his interpretations in "Petrouchka" (the puppet with a soul), "Sheherazade," "Le Spectre de la Rose," and "Carnaval," and praised as perhaps the greatest stage artist of his era across all performing arts. Tamara Karsavina is described as a lesser beauty than Anna Pavlowa but a superior ensemble artist, notable for her Salome, her Queen in "The Golden Cock," and her restrained performance in "The Legend of Joseph." Van Vechten ends by conceding minor flaws — weak scores or costuming in "Midas," miscasting in "The Legend of Joseph" — as trivial faults within an otherwise triumphant body of work.
By Carl Van Vechten · First published 1915 · Genre: Art Criticism, Dance Criticism, Performance Review