Music: On the Toes

Manhattanites waited for the melting watches, the hirsute oysters, the crutches, the lamb chops, that are the hallmarks of Surrealist Salvador Dali. But there were few such symbol-crashes in the ballet Labyrinth, given its world première at the Metropolitan Opera House last week.

While the Metropolitan orchestra placidly unfolded the famed “heavenly lengths” of Schubert’s Seventh Symphony, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo toe-danced the Greek legend of Theseus killing the virgin-devouring Minotaur, and finding his way out of the monster’s labyrinth by following Ariadne’s thread. Against Dali’s brightly painted, more or less relevant backgrounds, the confused milling of the lavishly costumed Greeks, pigeons, roosters, dolphins and waves did little credit to the Ballet Russe’s seasoned choreographer, Leoride Massine.

Labyrinth opened the ninth U.S. season of Russian ballet. Chichi as ever was its first-night audience, implemented by the rich, well-furred, well-elbowed European refugees who are increasingly noticeable in Manhattan smart-spots. Beaming as ever was the impresario of the ballet, smart Showman S. (for Solomon) Hurok.

This year S. Hurok has consolidated a near-monopoly on the spins and leaps that bring in the money. As usual he has two ballet troupes, but—because of ballet’s tendency to behave like a slap-happy amoeba—the troupes are different this year. In the finely trained Massine ballet are the most glamorous (Tamara Toumanova) and the most technically accomplished (Alexandra Danilova) of ballerinas, as well as three of the fleetest male dancers (Frederic Franklin, Igor Youskevitch, Andre Eglevsky).

Ballet Theatre. Mr. Hurok’s other troupe, replacing the ballet of Colonel Wassily de Basil is the Ballet Theatre. In its Chicago and Manhattan runs this outfit raised high hopes, but its policies did not suit its backer, Lucia Chase, herself a rich widow, an ambitious dancer. She turned the works over to Hurok, who put in two of his glamor girls (Irina Baronova, Alicia Markova), a new director, conductor and choreographers, all trained in the Russian tradition. When the Ballet Theatre opens in Manhattan next month, its fine U.S. ballet, Billy the Kid, will be missing. Eugene Loring, who designed and danced in Billy, has left the Ballet Theatre. So has its beauteous Texas ballerina, Nana Gollner (now with the touring de Basil ballet). Sole native work will be Three Virgins and a Devil, by frizzy-haired Agnes George de Mille.

Jooss Ballet. Agnes de Mille had a new ballet on the Manhattan stage last week. In it were brick-red braves and rangy girls in long red underwear, a bouncing Dutch miss and her broad-bottomed Dutch elders.

The ballet, Drums Sound in Hackensack, proved that Choreographer de Mille, like her movie-directing Uncle Cecil B., has a touch, and the touch made it seem that, among the New Amsterdam Dutch of 1650, there was no situation which would not be improved by a saucy twitch of the rump.

The troupe which danced Drums has been visiting the U.S. for eight years—the Jooss (pronounced like the first three letters of Yosemite) Ballet. Composed largely of German exiles, but including ten other nationalities, the Jooss Ballet spent last year barnstorming South America. Almost on their uppers, the dancers now live together in Manhattan, look forward to a tour of Shubert theaters.

The Jooss Ballet, with its music by two pianos, its minimum of props and settings, attracts no such plushy audiences as the Russians. The dancers mime, mug, use their heads and feet instead of their mere toes. Their most famed work: The Green Table, a taut, sardonic choreographic drama of peace conferences and war, which now approaches its 2,000th performance.