The identity of dance as we know it today –in any of its numerous variants– has been forged throughout history, and has precisely evolved with this history. If we narrow the field of study to the origins of what is termed “classical dance” (ballet) then we should limit the study to the search for its roots in stylized folklore, which was first seen in the dance at Court. There, following an impulse provided by Louis XIV “le Roi Soleil” in the France du Grand-Siècle, dance finally reached the stage.
In fact, the word “ballet” was born in France, but is now part of the international vocabulary. The Encyclopédie Larousse currently defines ballet as “Choreographic composition intended to be performed in public, with or without music, performed by one or many dancers”1 and Webster’s Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary as “A classical dance form demanding grace and precision and employing conventional steps and gestures set in intricate, flowing patterns to create expression through movement.”2 If we consult the specialized publications, we find in The Ballet Goer’s Guide, by Mary Clarke and Clement Crisp, that ballet is “The form of classical academic dance which has evolved in the Western theatre.”3 With these last two definitions we find the two fundamental concepts of this art: its characteristic conventionality –the possession of its own language, specific and rigorous, but absolutely arbitrary– and its unavoidable characteristic as a western product. Yes, the ballet was born in France, but shortly thereafter it reached the west and south of Europe and just two centuries later it went to Russia; ballet has now spread worldwide.4
From the moment conventionalisms dazzled artists and audiences, in Louis XIV’s France, any stage element could become a creative tool for masters and choreographers, who developed ballet techniques at the same rate as the expressive needs of the dancer were demanding new challenges. If there was any one element that had a decisive influence on the work of the choreographer, it was the way the dancers were dressed:5 the shortening of the skirt length, the round neckline, the gradual disappearance of the heels in the footwear or the invention of pointe shoes were indispensable ingredients on which the choreographers based their creative work.
In the introductory chapter of The Lure of Perfection. Fashion and Ballet, 1780-1830, Judith Chazin-Bennahum, relies on the French historian Carole Rambaud’s affirmation, “how in singling out this one [dance costume] of the choreographic spectacle, the costume becomes a plastic witness to the spectacle and uncovers a specific artistic expression of its creator. The costume designer not only works with the choreographer but also considers the movement as well as the dancer’s body. The texture and tactility of the costume fabric enter into the choreography in an imaginative way. The costume becomes accompaniment to movement and to energy.”6
Although very subtlety, the choreographers’ work was also being affected by those changes and vice versa: as the length of the skirts shortened, the choreographers devised new movements to surprise the public (since, for the first time, the audience could see the dancers’ calves) as well as to motivate the artists. At same time, based on the novel contributions of Noverre and Angiolini, the ballet –whether it was called ballet d’action or ballo pantomimo– developed a new plot line in their choreographies that slowly but inexorably abandoned any relationship to Greek Classicism and mythology. Jean-Georges Noverre (1727-1810) and Gasparo Angiolini (1731-1803), eternal rivals, propitiated, in parallel, the definitive establishment of the narrative dance on stage. Although Noverre’s ballet d’action differed slightly from Angiolini’s ballo pantomimo –mainly in the process of the conception and development of a new work, rather than in the result itself–7, both choreographers defended the artistic capacity of dance to tell stories in a totally autonomous way and independently from pure dramatic acting: for the first time, choreographers were also narrators.
The suppression of theatrical masks in stage dancing, perhaps Noverre’s greatest innovation, would give rise to a new, more expressive and natural way of performing that would be seconded –to a greater or lesser extent, and with greater or lesser success– throughout Western Europe: in a short time, dance technique experienced a spectacular impetus. August Bournonville would recall in his Letters on Dance and Choreography how “the masks, the panniers and the tonnelets, the feathered head-dresses and the pointed heels disappeared, and the obsolete forms of dance moved imperceptibly towards characterisation and dramatic situations.”8 Not only did the costumes modify the movement per se, but also the dramatic interpretation of the characters. As Dorion Weickmann notes in The ballet d’action of the eighteenth century, “though the figures of the Hellenic myths still populated the stages, their bodies told different stories. Monarchical glory and grandeur[9] disappeared and were replaced by human conflicts, sentiments and souls.”10 Both the academic technique and the dramatic performance underwent a strong momentum which led to its dramatic evolution.
Finally, the explosion of the German Romanticism affected professional dancing as it did to all the other art forms, and therefore, supernatural environments and spectral creatures filled up the stage. Almost all of characters were female. And they all wore tutus. At the end of this period, the tutus were even ‘camouflaged’ as peasant costumes, as in the first act of Giselle and other ballets with costumbrist scenes.
A good part of this study involves the tutu: as a first approximation, it is the traditional costume of the female dancer, and it is built by a skirt of tulle or muslin sewn to a corset (or bodice, depending on the different periods and styles) emphasising the waist of the dancer.11 In the latest update of the Oxford Dictionary we read: “A female ballet dancer’s costume consisting of a bodice and an attached skirt incorporating numerous layers of fabric, this either being short and stiff and projecting horizontally from the waist (the classical tutu) or long, soft and bell-shaped (the romantic tutu).” It also clarifies: “Origin. Early 20th century from French, child’s alteration of cucu, informal diminutive of cul ‘buttocks’.”12
There were several reasons that catapulted ballet dancers to fame, but there was one that by itself could have transformed the ballerina –the female dancer– into the real star of the stage: the new dance on pointe. What began on stage by reproducing the traditional shoe used by all ladies in ballroom dance, evolved over time in form, design and even the sewing patterns. The longitudinal and parallel pieces next to the sole disappeared, providing greater firmness in the structure of a new shoe with transverse seams; gradually, dancers found the way to improve both their technique and footwear throughout the years. Even today, the pointe shoes keep changing.
The possibility of performing some steps and movements on their tip-toes –at the beginning in a very rudimentary way but shortly after with more successful results– gave wings (never better said) to the dancers in order to recreate any supernatural, ethereal and phantasmagorical creature that the ballet librettist could think of. Although during the beginning of Romanticism it was the choreographer himself who dealt with the plot (and even sometimes also commissioning or composing the score) the main ballets of that period, such as Giselle or La Sylphide13 were based on libretti written specifically to be danced, based on carefully chosen storylines. By that time, the usual ballet training included pas enlevés [literally, “elevated steps”] or, in other words, movements performed sur les demi-pointes [“on half-pointe,” flexing the metatarsals so the dancer keeps all his/her body weight and balance on the metatarsals, instead of on the entire plantar base], the pas sautés [literally “jumped steps”] and the entrechats or battus [“beaten jumps,” because the feet or legs criss-cross while in the air] had become quite common since the 17th century. Now, however, once pointe shoes appeared, ballet students had to find not only a new way of performing any movement they already knew, but also to master a new number of steps created specifically to be performed on pointe in order to succeed on stage: for example pas courus [travelling steps performed by tiny fast steps, so the dancer seems to slide along the floor], or piqués [when the dancer holds a position on balance by the only direct support of the foot, on tip-toes].
In the same way, at the beginning of Classicism –understood as the period between the premiere of Coppélia in 1870 and