Choreography for “Afternoon of a Faun”

It occurred to me after writing about the latest “Digital Spring Season” program of the New York City Ballet (NYCB), bringing together choreography by both George Balanchine and Jerome Robbins, that I have now experienced two Robbins ballets that involved reconceptions of works originally created for the Ballets Russes. The first of these took place when I was regularly attending performances by American Ballet Theatre. Robbins created “Les Noces” (the wedding) using Igor Stravinsky’s composition of the same name for a premiere performance on March 30, 1965. Stravinsky had originally written his score for Bronislava Nijinska’s choreography first performed by the Ballets Russes on June 13, 1923.

The choreography for NYCB occurred much earlier. As has already been observed, it was first performed on May 14, 1953; and it uses the same music as a ballet that was also created for the Ballet Russes much earlier than “Les Noces.” Both ballets also have the same title, “Afternoon of a Faun,” setting Claude Debussy’s similarly entitled symphonic poem, “Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune.” The Ballets Russes version was first performed on May 29, 1912 with choreography by Vaslav Nijinsky, Nijinska’s older brother.  “Afternoon of a Faun” was Nijinsky’s serious effort to create an original dance; and his reputation had already been made as a dancer, rather than a choreographer.

The ballet involved the erotic encounter of a faun with nymphs that find themselves in his corner of a forest. He pursues the eldest of the nymphs and manages to steal her veil. The ballet concludes with the veil serving as a surrogate for the nymph as the faun engages in an erotic encounter:

Nijinsky in the role of the faun at the conclusion of his ballet “Afternoon of a Faun” (photograph by Adolphe de Meyer taken on May 29, 1912, from Wikimedia Commons, public domain)

As might be guessed, the performance was very controversial. There is at least one account of a few matronly Parisian women fainting in the boxes due to the blatantly suggestive motions in that final scene (but there are also suggestions that Ballets Russes founder Sergei Diaghilev had paid them generously to do so)! There is little “hard evidence” of what actually happened, and there are only a few silent film clips of Nijinsky performing this role.

Nevertheless, Rudolf Nureyev decided to use both those clips and historical accounts to reconstruct the ballet as Nijinsky had originally conceived it. That included drawing upon poses depicted on ancient Greek vases, which had probably been examined at the Louvre by Diaghilev, Nijinsky, and Léon Bakst, who designed the set and the costumes. Nijinsky’s choreography also showed signs of those ancient Greek sources, even to the extent that much of the dance is structured around poses and intervening movement. Those poses, in turn, often seem to have basic geometry, rather than human anatomy, as a foundation. Fortunately, there is a filmed version of this reconstruction, with Nureyev dancing the faun, available as a YouTube video. (Readers should be warned, however, this this video has “commercial interruptions!”)

As those that read this morning’s article probably know, Robbins’ setting of Debussy’s music differed significantly from Nijinsky’s. Instead of a forest there is a ballet studio; and the “characters” of faun and nymph are replaced with a male and a female dancer practicing in front of a mirror. Nevertheless, there are a few signs that Robbins knew about the Ballets Russes version. There was at least one black-and-white film (with audio) that captured one of the later incarnations of the Ballets Russes; and there was a post-Diaghilev version that became part of the Rambert Ballet repertoire. Thus, while Robbins’ effort pre-dates Nureyev’s by several decades, he still had sources that he could consult.

Thus, there are a few parallels that are likely to strike the attentive viewer. There may no longer be a veil, but there are indicators of sensual hunger in the solo dancing by the male at the very beginning and conclusion. Similarly, there is at least a suggestion that the female is intruding upon (or at least entering) the male’s “space.” Most importantly, however, there are very strong connotations that, while the encounter may have begun as “technique-based,” the “motive behind the moves” becomes increasingly erotic. Sadly, that eroticism never really emerged in the duo performance by Joseph Gordon and Sterling Hyltin currently available as the “Digital Spring Season” YouTube video. On the other hand it is unmistakable on a YouTube video of a Canadian broadcast that took place on October 6, 1955 in which it is performed by Jacques d’Amboise and Tanaquil LeClerq.

LeClerq had been like a muse to Robbins. In that context it is worth noting that this film, which may well have captured the strong relationship between the two of them, was made less than a year before LeClerq contracted polio and the resulting paralysis. The impact of that tragedy led Robbins to withdraw from his NYCB activities. For those of us aware of LeClerq’s fate, watching this video account of her dancing with d’Amboise is intensely poignant; and I find it hard to imagine that any subsequent effort to revive this ballet will ever evoke as much emotional intensity.