The idea of dancing to music is of course not a new one. Both ritual and popular dancing took place in ancient Egypt and Greece, but the idea of it being a theatrical entertainment is more recent. It was during the Renaissance that the dancing art-form really began to develop, though mainly as court entertainment. Its development was speeded up through the increasing popularity of opera and oratorio. Early ballets comprised music, poetry and dance, melding into a single entertainment, but this soon morphed into a melodramatic form of ballet, in spirit a sort of miniature opera.
Lully was the first great master of this form; he revolutionized the way ballets were written. He made them a complete artistic whole and his collaboration with Molière from 1671 raised the standard to new heights. A two-CD set with Minkowski and the Musiciens du Louvre from Warner (Les Comédies Ballets) captures the often brilliant style of his writing in which the combination of melody and often outrageous burlesque represents an unparalleled comic partnership between composer and playwright (Warner Apex 2564 62184 (2)). Rameau consolidated Lully’s achievements and wrote much striking ballet music, and the catalogue is now rich with fine examples of his art.
However, it was with Gluck’s Don Juan (1761) that the real turning point in ballet music occurred. It was the first ballet written by a truly important composer and it also provided music for the dance, with no singing or speaking of any kind. It was also one of the first works in which the choreography made serious attempts to represent the drama. The music is a delight: distinctive, tuneful and very danceable. Marriner’s classic pioneering ASMF Decca/Argo account is available on Australian Decca Eloquence (476 2440) alongside Gardiner’s period performance on Warner (8573 89233-2). Both are excellent.
Neither Haydn nor Mozart (pace Les Petits Riens) made great contributions to the genre, but Beethoven did with his ballet, The Creatures of Prometheus. Mackerras, with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, gives a fresh, vigorous version of this score on Hyperion, now on their bargain Helios label (CDH 55196).
After the death of Gluck, ballet remained an integral part of French opera, with most composers writing a fair amount of ballet music for their operas – Gossec, Grétry, Auber, Boïeldieu and others. In fact, it was an iron-clad rule of the Paris Opéra that all operas performed there must have their own ballet sequence (even Wagner’s). This was at the insistence of the all-powerful Parisian Jockey Club, whose members ogled the corps de ballet to select their mistresses. The ballet had to take place during the second half of the opera, as over-indulgence at dining precluded attendance before then. The results of this tradition produced a good deal of very attractive ‘light’ music of the best kind, of which perhaps the most famous was Gounod’s famous ballet from Faust, which the composer ingeniously fitted into the plot. But Donizetti, Rossini and Verdi also composed some equally tuneful and vivacious music, combining melody, wit and vivacity.
Minkus was the first composer to establish ballet music as an entertainment in its own right. Between 1871 and 1903 he established a partnership with the famous Russian choreographer, Marius Petipa, for whom he wrote a great deal of engagingly colourful and tuneful music, beginning in 1869 with Don Quixote. However, in Rudolf Nureyev’s revised version of the ballet, the eponymous character does not feature strongly in the action, which concentrates on a triangular love story between Kiri, Basilio and the rich, elderly Gamache. In 1857 Minkus had also composed music for Petipa’s ‘Grand pas classique’, the only part of the ballet Paquita to survive. But the key collaboration between Minkus and Petipa was the exotic La Bayadère (1877), set in India, which has survived as a complete work.
The Italian, Riccardo Drigo, is also remembered for an attractive pas de deux which was originally interpolated into Adam’s Le Corsaire in 1899. But before that, in the 1840s and 1850s, the Royal Danish Ballet flourished under the choreographer Bournonville, and the Danish composers Edward Helsted, Holger Paulli and Niels Gade provided tuneful music for three ballets: Napoli, The Kermesse in Bruges and Flower Festival at Genzano. Those interested in the development of ballet music will find a well-played and -recorded EMI two-CD set – with the Minkus scores arranged and conducted by John Lanchbery and the others by Terence Kern and Ole Schmidt. It is well worth seeking out (6 48640-2).
But the first major ballet in the repertoire that is independent of opera and which is performed regularly to this day is Adolphe Adam’s Giselle. This ballet, along with Delibes’s Coppélia and Sylvia and Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty and (for Christmas) The Nutcracker, are the great ballets of the romantic era. They have survived partly because of the excellence of the narrative, but far more importantly because of the quality of the music. These ballets are discussed under their respective composers, but there is plenty more music which, while not reaching the artistic heights of those masterpieces, is entertainingly melodic and memorable.
No conductor has done more for this area of the repertoire on record than Richard Bonynge, who has resurrected many rare ballets during his recording career, and Decca have put a collection of them into a 10-CD bargain box called Fête du Ballet (468 57–2). In it you will find Auber’s tuneful score for Marco Spada (Auber had the knack of writing memorable tunes), and the set also includes a delightful confection of this composer’s music, arranged by Constant Lambert for the ballet Les Rendez-vous, plus Auber’s short but catchy Pas Classique. Lecocq’s effervescent score for the ballet Mam’zelle Angot (arranged by Gordon Jacob) is very successfully presented here too – an enticing bouquet of tunes, very brightly and wittily orchestrated.
The composers who wrote for the Imperial Theatres in Russia are again represented here, with more music by Minkus and Drigo, including the latter’s complete La Flûte magique, well crafted and orchestrated and of better quality than its reputation implies. Bonynge’s classic ballet sets, ‘Homage to Pavlova’ and ‘The Art of the Prima Ballerina’, comprise very attractive, short ballet excerpts, ranging from the well-known to the completely obscure, as well as including the only complete recording of Luigini’s Ballet Egyptien – and enjoyably tuneful it is too. Among the more modern ballets represented are the Rossini/Britten Soirées musicales and Matinées musicales and Désormière’s arrangement of the Strauss family’s music, to form the ballet Le Beau Danube. Other highlights include Burgmüller’s La Péri, written in the wake of the success of Giselle for the reigning prima ballerina at the Paris Opéra, Carlotta Grisi.
Offenbach’s delightful Le Papillon is featured only as a suite, but readers are urged to investigate the complete version of the ballet (see under Offenbach), which is one of the finest of all Bonynge’s ballet discoveries. The classic coupling of suites from Massenet’s Le Cid and Meyerbeer’s Les Patineurs is also included and, though it is not ballet music, Massenet’s Scènes alsaciennes and Scènes dramatiques sit very well on an all-Massenet CD, which also includes the Waltz from Le Roi de Lahore and the sparkling Marche des princesses from Cendrillon. The sound throughout these recordings is of Decca’s best quality.
The early-twentieth-century ballet scene was dominated by the figure of Serge Diaghilev, the mastermind of a small group of famous designers of scenery and costumes, musicians and writers in St Petersburg. In 1908 he created a sensation in Paris with a season of Russian operas, and the following year he gave his first ballet season with his Ballets Russes, now regarded as the greatest ballet company in the history of the medium, creating a sensation across Europe (and especially in England). Through his genius of collaboration, Diaghilev inspired composers, dancers, designers and choreographers, including Balanchine, to create some of the greatest ballets of the twentieth century, commissioning masterly scores from Stravinsky, Debussy, Ravel, de Falla and Prokofiev, as well as music from Les Six, notably Poulenc (Les Biches a supreme example) and Milhaud, as well as eliciting contributions from such unlikely sources as the English composer, Constant Lambert.
Diaghilev’s other main achievement lay in getting composers to arrange music already written for other purposes in creating new ballets. Among his greater successes were Schumann’s Carnaval (piano music orchestrated by several Russian composers, available on Australian Decca Eloquence 480 038) conducted by Ansermet, coupled with that conductor’s classic account of The Seasons. Weber’s Le Spectre de la rose appears in Berlioz’s orchestrated version, and Respighi’s arrangement of music by Rossini, La Boutique fantasque, has been preserved in Ansermet’s magical mono version of that score, available on Somm CD027 (coupled with his equally famous mono Petrushka).
In their excellent historical two-disc ballet music series, EMI also offer Offenbach’s Gaîté Parisienne played by the Monte Carlo Philharmonic Orchestra directed by its arranger, Manuel Rosenthal, which also usefully offers a complete listing of the sources of all twenty numbers. This is combined with Prêtre’s complete Philharmonia recording of Poulenc’s Les Biches with chorus, John Lanchbery’s vivid account with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra of the only available full version of Messager’s Two Pigeons and Mackerras’s Philharmonia account of Les Patineurs (both ballets choreographed by Sir Frederick Ashton) (6 48656-2).
In similarly tuneful style, Hérold’s La Fille mal gardée should not be overlooked and John Lanchbery’s Tales of Beatrix Potter is another delightful confection of tunes, mainly from the Victorian era, but so skilfully arranged one would think it an original ballet score (EMI 9498392).
During this fertile period, splendid ballet scores were also written by Britten (The Prince of the Pagodas), Florent Schmitt (the exotic La Tragédie de Salomé (available on CD on Hyperion CDA 67599, coupled with the composer’s spectacular Psalm XLVII), and Albert Roussel (see under the composer), as well as Arnold (Homage to the Queen – available on a new Chandos CD of Arnold’s ballet scores, including much that is rare (Chan. 10550), Miracle in the Gorbals by Bliss (Naxos 8.553698), and of course Bartók.
Herbert von Karajan was a naturally sympathetic conductor of ballet music, and DG have gathered together some of his best recordings on a bargain two-CD set (459 445-2). In it you will find an unsurpassed performance of Chopin’s Les Sylphides (in Roy Douglas’s uniquely masterful arrangement), with very stylish accounts of Ponchielli’s Dance of the Hours, Gounod’s Faust ballet music, Delibes’s Coppélia Suite and Offenbach’s Gaîté Parisienne – as well as a splendidly played Sleeping Beauty Suite of Tchaikovsky.
Other colourful ballet scores well worth hunting out are Glazunov’s Raymonda (there is a lovely DVD of the Bolshoi performing it on Arthaus DVD 100 719), and particularly that masterpiece of colour and melody, The Seasons (see under Glazunov). The Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian must be mentioned; his ballets Gayaneh and Spartacus, especially the former, are among the most vivid Russian scores in the repertoire (see under Khachaturian). Massenet wrote three ballets, two of which have been recorded by Richard Bonynge: Le Carillon and Le Cigale. Both have a unique French charm and sophistication, and are richly scored; Le Carillon is coupled with Delibes’s Coppélia (Decca 444 836-2) but Cigale is at present out of the catalogue, although available as a download (from iTunes). For perhaps the ultimate Massenet ballet though, one must turn to Leighton Lucas’s masterful arrangement of Massenet excerpts which form the ballet Manon – with the famous Elégie returning throughout the score as an idée fixe. It is a gorgeous score, full of melody, colour and imagination, sumptuously recorded by Decca and most understandingly conducted by Bonynge, with the Covent Garden Orchestra (Decca 470 525-2 (2)).
Unquestionably the greatest choreorapher of the twentieth century was George Balanchine (1904–83). Born in St Petersburg, he became a member of the Russian Imperial Ballet, where he worked as both dancer and choreographer. He went to Paris in the 1920s and joined the Ballets Russes as one of Diaghilev’s key choreographers, achieving a close personal relationship with Stravinsky as well as many other composers. He stayed until Diaghilev’s death in 1929, then worked with a number of ballet companies in Europe, until in 1933 he was invited to move to New York by Lincoln Kirstein; here he worked with the resident American Ballet Company of the Metropolitan Opera until 1938. He then worked with various companies until he was able to create the New York City Ballet in 1948, with which he stayed until his death. It was here that he established an American style of ballet movements which was as original as it was imaginative. His choreography is as individual as it is unpredictable, full of surprises and wonderfully entertaining to watch. He drew on orchestral music already written in other forms, using many works of Tchaikovsky, creating new and unconventional dance movements that are unsurpassed and unsurpassable.
Fortunately the excellent EMI two-CD ballet music series includes some of the finest music he chose, and EMI have provided excellent recordings. The first of two sets (6 48625-2) includes one of his earliest works, the 1934 Serenade, using the work by Tchaikovsky for strings, yet placing the slow movement, Elégie, as the finale and combining individual dances for each performer but climaxing with a dazzling ensemble. Hickox’s performance of the music with the City of London Sinfonia is fully worthy. Bizet’s Symphony in C, another favourite, was adapted for the Paris Opéra Ballet in 1947 but was also used for the inauguration of the New York City Ballet a year later. The choreography is based on the individual style of each of the four movements, with a different group of dancers for each. In the dazzling finale all four groups join together in a spectacularly thrilling apotheosis. The performance on CD is the finest on record, directed by Sir Thomas Beecham. Allegro brillante (in fact Tchaikovsky’s Third Piano Concerto) came a decade later, in 1956, excellently played by Peter Donohoe and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Rudolf Barshai. The other major work included here is Jewels, which dates from 1967. It is in three parts, with the dancers’ costumes simulating the title. The first, Emeralds, is set to gently lyrical pieces by Fauré, taken from his incidental music to Pelléas et Mélisande and Shylock, sensitively played by the Toulouse Capitole Orchestra conducted by Michel Plasson. The second, Rubies, turns to Stravinsky’s Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra (brilliantly played by Michel Béroff and the Orchestre de Paris under Ozawa) and the dancing evokes the New York style of jazz and Broadway musicals. For Diamonds, the closing part, Balanchine moved to Tchaikovsky’s (Polish) Third Symphony, omitting the first movement (‘Always Tchaikovsky for dancing,’ he commented), and indeed this work, as played by the Philharmonia Orchestra under Muti, has a distinct ballet flavour.
The second EMI Balanchine collection (6 48620-2) also includes Muti’s recording of Diamonds from Jewels and two other Tchaikovsky works, Ballet Imperial (1941), set to the uncut version of the Second Piano Concerto, which here uses another superb recording by Peter Donohoe and the Bournemouth orchestra with Barshai. Most valuable of all is the Theme and Variations (1947) taken from the Orchestral Suite No. 3 in G, splendidly played by the La Scala, Milan, Orchestra, directed by Lovro von Matačić. As a bonus, the disc offers more Tchaikovsky, Onegin, produced by the Stuttgart Ballet in 1965. This features the same Pushkin story as is used in the opera Eugene Onegin, but not the music. Instead, the choreographer, John Cranko, chose orchestrations of piano pieces, including The Seasons, by Kurt-Heinz Stolze, but for his finale he used the thrilling closing section of Francesca da Rimini, beginning with the seductive clarinet solo which accompanies Francesca’s entry.
Another key Balanchine ballet score is Night Shadow, with a dazzling selection of tunes taken from the operas of Bellini, arranged and scored by Vittorio Rieti. The story follows that of La Sonnambula and the piece was premiered by the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in New York in 1946, then revived by the New York City Ballet in 1965 when Balanchine became director. This is coupled with Sir Frederick Ashton’s The Dream, using excerpts from Mendelssohn’s incidental music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, played by Previn and the LSO with wonderful freshness, employing soloists and the Finchley Children’s Music Group, and truly bringing the fairies into the orchestra. Then comes The Lady and the Fool, created for Sadler’s Wells by John Cranko and Sir Charles Mackerras, and brilliantly played by the LPO conducted by Mackerras.
The second of the two CDs contains four Chopin Nocturnes chosen in 1970 by Jerome Robbins for In the Night, beautifully played by Garrick Ohlsson. Then come orchestral versions of Erik Satie’s three Gymnopédies for his sensuous Monotones, choreographed by Sir Frederick Ashton for Covent Garden. This is followed by The Dying Swan, Michel Fokine’s ballet for Pavlova, with music by Saint-Saëns, played by the CBSO under Louis Frémaux, and finally Weber’s La Spectre de la Rose (‘Invitation to the Dance’, orchestrated by Berlioz), again with Fokine’s choreography, gloriously played by the Philharmonia Orchestra under Karajan (EMI 9 49849-2).
Those wanting to find out more about Balanchine and the New York City Ballet should look on line under the choreographer’s name, and this entry also includes a performance of the finale of Bizet’s Symphony in C.