Personal Memories
from the Ballet Association
The Royal Ballet 75th Anniversary
As Chairman of the Ballet Association,
I have pleasure in welcoming you to our
modest contribution to the Royal Ballet’s
75th Anniversary. I hope you find our
mix of reminiscences and photographs enjoyable.
We now have about 450 members and the
contents of this collection reflect some
of the memories of a few of them, from
the earliest days of the Company to the
present day.
Not only are we celebrating the 75 years
of the Company, its wonderful dancers,
choreographers, etc. but also the regular
members of the audience, who help make
The Royal Ballet very special. We thank
all who contributed to these pages and
especially Sylvia Tyler, one of the founders
of the Association who has edited them.
All in the Ballet Association are enormously
grateful to everyone in the Royal Ballet
for the enormous pleasure they give us.
The special relationship that we have
with the Company is treasured by us all.
The time given to speak at our meetings
and to attend our dinners is very special
to us. We wish all connected to the Royal
Ballet a wonderful 75th Anniversary. We
cherish all in the Company, but give especial
thanks to our Patron Monica Mason, Founder
Patron Sir Anthony Dowell, Founder President
David Drew and our other Presidents, Jonathan
Cope, Jay Jolley, Desmond Kelly and Christopher
Saunders for the support they give us.
David M Bain
Chairman
Memoir
I have been a lifelong follower of both
ballet and opera, visiting the Royal Opera
House aged four for ballet when I saw
Pavlova. I was eight years old for my
first opera. I was quite a veteran by
the age of fifteen when I first remember
seeing Ninette de Valois dance. Oddly
enough it was through an opera production.
My parents and I were friends of the singer
Mary Jarrod for whom Lilian Baylis mounted
Gluck’s Orfeo at both the Old Vic
on the 18 January 1934 and Sadler’s
Wells 1933_1934. At the performance I
attended on 10th February 1934 Ninette
de Valois danced the death of Euridice
in front of the curtain at the beginning
of the opera. Some of her dancers performed
in the opera, the beautiful Dance of the
Blessed Spirits. I seem to remember that
Beatrice Appleyard and Ursula Moreton
were two of the dancers.
I also remember seeing Beatrice Appleyard
and Ursula Moreton as part of the original
cast of The Haunted Ballroom although
I have forgotten the date. Other performances
I saw were the Vic Wells Ballet in a matinée
at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre
which included The Lord of Burleigh with
– I think – the lovely Pearl
Argyle.
Earlier performances in June 1932 at the
Savoy Theatre were billed as The Camago
Society in conjunction with the Vic Wells
Ballet and the Ballet Club. I do have
a list of the ballets and dancers but
not the dates.
Earlier still I remember the matinée
at the King’s Theatre, Hammersmith
by the Camago Society staged by Marie
Rambert. Harold Turner danced Le Spectre
de la rose with Tamara Karsavina. Marie
Rambert had coaxed her out of retirement
to show off her protégé
Harold Turner.
I remember performances of The Rake’s
Progress, The Prospect Before Us, Facade
and Rio Grande, but not the dates or dancers.
Towards the end of World War II when I
was in the WAAF and stationed close enough
to London to be able to visit theatres
I took advantage of free seats to service
personnel to see the Sadler’s Wells
Ballet at the New Theatre. I saw Coppélia,
Le Festin de l’araignée amongst
others. In those days of paper shortage
we had tiny programmes that nevertheless
seemed perfectly adequate with information
of casts and storyline.
Shortly after the war I took my two young
daughters to see Moira Shearer in Cinderella.
Amongst my favourite ballets is Symphonic
Variations which I saw with the original
cast.
I still manage to attend some performances
of both ballet and opera at my beloved
spiritual home, the Royal Opera House.
Charmian Morgan, aged 87
Memoir
Wednesday, January 24th 1940. An ordinary
day, turned memorable when I felt like
Alice, and found a wonderful new world
at Sadler’s Wells. Young and new
to theatre going, I discovered the then
Sadler’s Wells Ballet and those
dancers whose names were to become so
familiar. One most especially to become
my idol, Margot Fonteyn.
The ballet of my introduction was The
Sleeping Princess, slightly the poor relation
to the beautiful, polished Oliver Messel
Sleeping Beauty which opened Covent Garden
in 1946, but to me then a transformation
to a world of undreamed fantasy, the magic
of which lingered on long after. I spent
my days seeing rosy visions. The Prologue
fairies included some of our most well
loved dancers, Pamela May, Mary Honor,
Julia Farron (I loved the Breadcrumb Fairy)
and June Brae as the Lilac Fairy.
Act I presented the faithful Leslie Edwards
as King Florestan, Joy Newton his Queen.
The four princes were no less than Harold
Turner, Frederick Ashton. William Chappell
and Robert Helpmann. But the crowning
moment was that breathtaking entrance
of Margot Fonteyn, my very first sighting
of her, when the music becomes expectant,
the atmosphere rises to a crescendo, a
pinnacle of excitement, like a bird on
the wing. I was captivated for ever.
Act III had some treasures too. The Bluebirds
were Pamela May and Michael Somes, the
loveliest of pas de deux. Frederick Ashton
was Puss in Boots to Mavis Jackson’s
White Cat, Claude Newman the Wolf to Margaret
Dale’s Red Riding Hood. The programme
was full of now famous names. Margot Fonteyn
gave me another very special experience,
twenty_two years later, when that charismatic
partnership began with Rudolf Nureyev,
and they danced a Giselle of a quality
and poignancy that gave a whole new dimension
to the ballet, like seeing it with new
eyes.
Marjorie Taylor
Memoir
2006 is a very special year for me. Not
only is it the 75th anniversary of the
Royal Ballet but also my 75th birthday
is at the end of the season. My first
visit to the Opera House was in 1947 and
I have been a regular ever since. I have
been privileged to have seen so many great
Royal Ballet dancers, guest artists, choreographers
and productions over the years.
My first evening included Massine’s
Mamzelle Angot with Margot Fonteyn and
Alexander Grant as the Barber. I saw Margot
Fonteyn in all her roles with her special
partners. Frederick Ashton’s ballets
Scènes de ballet, Cinderella, Daphnis
and Chloe, Sylvia, Marguerite and Armand,
she excelled in them all.
Frederick Ashton’s La Fille mal
gardée on the 28th January 1960
was a very happy evening to be in the
audience, a ballet which continues to
bring joy.
Kenneth MacMillan’s great ballets
full of drama and emotions still hold
audiences spellbound. But there have been
so many wonderful highlights over the
years, too numerous to mention.
Thank to Dame Ninette de Valois the Royal
Ballet at 75 celebrates a wonderful past
and I am sure a great future.
Violetta Hanington
Memoir
Late in 1945 Ninette de Valois arranged
for expensive seats to be kept back for
us lucky members of the then Sadler’s
Wells Theatre Ballet for the reopening
of the Royal Opera House when The Sleeping
Beauty would be performed.
She also arranged a 2s 6d (12.5p) place
for me in the Gallery with its wooden
bench seats in case I wanted to sit amongst
my old mates, which of course I did. The
intervals on that great night were as
much fun for us as the performance. Nadia
Nerina and Pauline Wadsworth had to sell
their expensive tickets because they had
been cast at the last moment as the cradle
attendants.
Ninette de Valois’ very considerate
action, at what must have been one of
the most hectic times in her life, showed
how fond she had become of what Lilian
Baylis called ‘my people’,
which was the way she referred to the
Gallery where I had been sitting since
1931.
The Sleeping Beauty ran for six weeks
with several casts while in the day time
the dancers were rehearsing Adam Zero
and Symphonic Variations. At Sadler’s
Wells Assembly Ball and Khadra which meant
the cradle attendants had be at two theatres.
I remember Ninette de Valois as a workaholic
although she would relax in the bar while
Rake’s Progress was being performed
in what she considered to be too large
a theatre.
Leo Kersley
Memories of The
Royal Ballet
I am privileged to have been a ballet
‘regular’ for nearly 64 years,
and a devoted follower of The Royal Ballet
at Covent Garden since the Company opened
there with its magical production of Sleeping
Beauty in 1946.
Many of my memories are inextricably linked
with Elmhurst Ballet School through my
long involvement as both pupil and teacher.
As a young student I saw my very first
ballet in 1942: Fonteyn in Sylphides,
no less. Since the War a constant stream
of Elmhurst dancers went to the RBS and
on into the Company, and I have followed
their fortunes over the years –
from ‘spotting’ the new ones
in the back row of the corps to rejoicing
at the success of those that made it to
the top.
The 1950s: Meriel Evans, Mary Drage, Susan
Alexander – at 21 the youngest dancer
to take the role of Giselle at Covent
Garden _ and of course Merle Park who,
not yet a soloist, danced Fonteyn’s
role in Birthday Offering and went on
to rise through the ranks at thrilling
speed. The 1960s: Hilary Cartwright and
Diana Vere – who early on unexpectedly
took over the role of Giselle from an
injured Antoinette Sibley; while in the
1970s Jennifer Jackson danced Lise at
the RBS matinée before graduating
into the Company. More recently we have
had Isobel McMeekan.
But for everyone connected with Elmhurst
in its early days, one of the most special
memories has to be Merle Park’s
debut in Coppélia at Covent Garden
in 1958. The Dancing Times described the
scene: ‘Those who saw Merle Park
dance her first Swanilda must have noticed
the shrill cries of “Merle”
among the applause when she took her last
curtain calls. Helen Fischer, Ballet Mistress
at Elmhurst, was there with her senior
girls, but the news had spread and the
Opera House was full of “Old Elms”.’
(Me included, and I still remember the
excitement.)
Happy Birthday, Royal Ballet – and
‘Thanks For The Memory.’
∑ Jennifer Rice, Historian &
Archivist for Elmhurst (Student 1938_42/Music
Staff 1952_2004)
Memoir: VE Night,
May 8th, 1945F
rom 1942 until 1946 I was in the WAAF,
stationed at HQ Fighter Command in Stanmore.
After the revelation of seeing Margot
Fonteyn and Robert Helpmann in Swan Lake
in 1943, I went to the ballet as often
as my ‘watch’ duties would
allow, particularly as my night duties
in the operations room did not start until
midnight. Plenty of time to get back to
Stanmore after a performance.
The Sadler’s Wells Ballet was then
performing at the New Theatre, now the
Albery, in St Martin’s Lane. Quite
by chance I had booked, of course weeks
before, a ticket for a triple bill on
May 8th 1945. Sixty years later subsequent
events have driven the originally scheduled
ballets from my mind.
When I arrived in St Martin’s Lane
the atmosphere of sheer happiness throughout
London was wonderful – lights could
now shine out everywhere.
The programme that evening had been changed
to Coppélia, what a happy idea.
It was danced by Margot Fonteyn, Alexis
Rassine and the incomparable Robert Helpmann
as Dr Coppélius. I had a good seat
in the stalls, very cheap with the services
reductions.
Constant Lambert was the conductor that
evening. When the curtain went up after
the overture we saw Robert Helpmann putting
the flags of all the allied nations through
the bars of the doll’s balcony.
The roar that went up must have been heard
outside the theatre and of course Robert
Helpmann, the complete man of the theatre
reacted to it without once stepping outside
his character.
The fun continued all evening. After such
a long time I cannot remember many details
but once during the third act when a firework
exploded outside the theatre Margot Fonteyn
dashed round the stage firing at the audience
like a Hollywood gangster. Very different
from the previous summer of 1944 when
she and Robert Helpmann carried on dancing
the Black Swan pas de deux during the
distinctive sound of a V1 bomb and then
the ominous silence that came before it
crashed. When the bang came, obviously
a few streets away, Margot turned to the
audience and gave one of her brilliant
smiles We all adored her, she shared our
dangers.
After the performance of Coppélia
I returned to Stanmore to share the euphoria
of that night with other friends.
I actually found myself acting as the
relief pianist, because the regular one
had celebrated too much, with the resident
Skyrockets dance band until 2 am.
A most unconventional VE night.
Joan Seaman
Memoir
Unlike many of our members, I was not
taken to see ballet as a child. Although
I was heavily into drama and operettas
at college and went to theatre, opera
and contemporary dance when I first came
to London, it wasn’t until the early
1980s that I started to watch ballet,
gradually becoming more obsessive. I am
often asked what first got me hooked.
It was a combination of two things. First,
no surprise to those who know me, it was
three young ballerinas, Alessandra Ferri,
Deborah Bull and, from Festival Ballet,
Trinidad Sevillano. First it was Alessandra
as Mary Vetsera, Juliet and all her other
MacMillan roles. I can remember being
distraught in 1984 when she went to ABT.
But I had already spotted Deborah Bull
and Trinidad soon arrived and was another
Juliet in Ashton’s version to fall
in love with. It was their friendship
and that of many at the stage door, where
I had started to wait, that probably cemented
my passion for ballet. I remember one
hectic week in the summer of 1990 which
started in Miami Beach to see Deborah
Bull’s debut as Odette/Odile, after
which I rushed back to London to see BRB
at the Opera House for one evening before
flying to Madrid to see Trinidad in Giselle
and Etudes with Boston Ballet. Trinidad
was later to guest with The Royal as Chloe,
the last performances she gave on a London
stage.
The second contribution to my love of
ballet was the works themselves. Quite
eclectic in taste, in the early days it
was MacMillan’s Mayerling, Manon,
Valley of Shadows, Requiem, Different
Drummer, Anastasia, Kylian’s Return
to the Strange Land, Ashton’s Scènes
de ballet, Cranko’s Onegin (Festival
Ballet) and everything by Balanchine.
More recently, outside the Opera House,
it has been new work, particularly by
European choreographers. I was one of
the many who were delighted when Mats
Ek’s Carmen joined the repertoire
and will never forget Tamara Rojo as Carmen.
It has been a delight, over the last 25
years watching new dancers develop. Sometimes
spotting them in the School, as with Sarah
Wildor, Gemma Sykes and Marianela Nuñez,
to name but three of many, but also when
they join the Company from elsewhere.
As I have said many times, I believe the
Company has been strengthened enormously
by taking dancers from a range of backgrounds.
I am often asked, ‘how can you go
night after night?’ In the early
days, I went to one performance of each
production, choosing where I could those
with Ferri, then Bull. Now there is a
veritable alphabet of dancers I want to
see, however small the role – Ansanelli,
Bond, Cojocaru, Diuana ………
Yuhui, Zenaida (some in my list are male,
just in case you wonder!)
David Bain
MemoirA friend of mine, who is an amputee,
was walking up Wimpole Street on her crutches
when a woman accosted her. ‘Beautiful
carriage, such elegance, such grace, such
movement…’ and went on her
way.
The next day my friend saw a photograph
of the woman in the newspaper –
Dame Ninette!
Carol Rentoul
Memoir
There was one occasion when it was announced
from the Covent Garden stage that the
scheduled dancer was unable to dance and
her place would be taken by Margot Fonteyn
to great applause because she was at the
height of her career. I imagine a very
rare occurrence.
Peter Mahrer
MemoirI was taken to the Royal Opera House
for the first time at the age of four.
The performance was Swan Lake with Beryl
Grey as Odette/Odile. I was entranced.
As a child further visits to the ballet
were a great treat. I remember every occasion
and which dancers I saw. I was Odette,
Aurora, Giselle and although I never possessed
the physical attributes to be a ballerina,
I danced the parts in my bedroom every
night.
Now forty years plus on. I am lucky enough
to be able to attend Royal Ballet performances
on a much more frequent basis. I am thrilled
to be a ‘Friend’ with the
privileges that brings. I walk over Waterloo
Bridge from my office to the wonderful
surroundings of Covent Garden as often
as I can justify to myself and my bank
balance.
The one thing that I wish to say about
the Royal Ballet/Royal Opera House experience
is that it always makes me happy. Often
it makes me ecstatic, but it always makes
me happy. Whatever has happened in the
office that day, once I walk through those
doors, the magic begins and the pressures
or the day fade away. The very ambience
of the place has an immediate effect.
Recently I have discovered Ballet Association
meetings, Royal Ballet masterclasses and
insight days. These events have provided
a superb inside view into the Royal Ballet
and make me feel I know the dancers more
intimately as I look for them on stage.
It gives me pleasure to notice the dancers
of the corps whom I have seen interviewed
and to view the finished performance of
a pas de deux that I have seen being rehearsed.
The best partnership for me has to be
Jonathan Cope and Sylvie Guillem. I have
not been privileged to see some of the
other famous partnerships of the past,
but for me Sylvie and Jonathan are the
ultimate. Jonathan spoke recently about
having a ‘connection’ with
ballerinas on stage and never is that
more apparent than when viewing his performances
with Sylvie Guillem. The spark and excitement
radiates from them both and the magic
is complete. I took a friend with me to
see what turned out to be their last performance
of Marguerite and Armand together. She
was in tears at the end, such was the
emotion generated on the stage. For me
Manon is their best ballet with the pas
de deux sending me into spine tingling
raptures. But then there are also Romeo
and Juliet, Swan Lake, Giselle.
My favourite choreographer is Kenneth
MacMillan, although Frederick Ashton follows
a close second. It is the overall power
of the MacMillan ballets that make them
so great to me, along with the superbly
dramatic choreography So again I would
like to thank the Royal Ballet particularly
for Manon, Mayerling, Romeo and Juliet
and The Judas Tree.
I have also been excited by other special
performances: Irek Mukhamedov in Mayerling,
Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo in Swan
Lake, Darcey Bussell in Manon and now
Marianela Nuñez and Thiago Soares,
two really exciting young dancers.
So, this is a personal thank you to the
Royal Ballet on their 75th birthday. Please
do not underestimate the pleasure and
joy that you bring to people’s lives.
Jenny Taylor
MemoirBy the time I was eleven years old
I considered myself a fully fledged balletomane,
the Sadler’s Wells Ballet being
‘my company’. Going to performances
depended on when my mother could take
me which meant I did a great deal of nagging.
It changed when I was fourteen. I had
reasonable pocket money with which to
buy my tickets. Girls then had more freedom
to travel around London alone because
so many left school to go to work at the
official leaving age which had just been
raised to fifteen, that it was accepted
they had to travel alone by public transport.
Getting my tickets for Covent Garden was
the problem, which I solved with an audacity
that now astounds me. I could not queue
for a queue ticket because I had to go
to school so could not guarantee getting
back to the box office at the allotted
time.
As soon as school was over I would go
to the Opera House and approach a likely
looking person to see if they were going
to buy the full twelve tickets they were
entitled to. Mostly that late in the day
they were not because they were hoping
to book for Moira Shearer. I was always
successful in finding a lady (I never
approached men!) who would agree to get
me the tickets I wanted, of course after
I handed the money over. I wasn’t
bothered if they were bad slips as at
that time you were allowed to stand at
the back of the gallery if you had a bad
one.
Things improved when I was sixteen, I
acquired a boyfriend who did queue all
night. We would buy the performances we
knew would be much on demand with his
queue ticket which would be for ten o’clock.
I would arrive at the queue about six
thirty in the morning and get a queue
ticket for four o’clock which I
could use after school. With that one
I bought the performances that were less
in demand.
Sylvia Tyler
Memoir
When Floral Hall meant Flowers
David Blair’s farewell performance,
25th June 1973
What my boyfriend and I did on that occasion
would not be possible today. Then, fruit,
vegetables and flowers were the Royal
Opera House’s co_residents in Covent
Garden and Floral Hall described what
actually happened there, wholesale flower
selling. This proved handy that night.
My boss, knowing of my ballet passion
but lacking any interest himself, very
kindly suggested I take the two seats
in a box which he had been offered –
corporate entertainment, then as now.
The tickets were for David Blair’s
last performance, as Colas in La Fille
mal gardée with Merle Park as Lise,
Stanley Holden as Widow Simone and Alexander
Grant as Alain. Happily for me, for my
boss this occasion and its cast meant
nothing.
When we arrived, we found that the box
was one of those closest to the stage.
This was too good an opportunity to miss.
On the spur of the moment, my poor boyfriend
received instructions to dash out in the
interval to buy a box of flowers from
the wholesalers in the Floral Hall. He
had never done it before and we had no
idea even if it could be done. He found
a way, but it took a while.
When he raced back to the Opera House
bearing his large cargo he turned down
a corridor and panting along it realised
he was lost. At that point a man in full
evening dress appeared and looking bemusedly
at what looked like an escaped porter
from the Floral Hall, politely asked,
‘Can I help you?’ It was Anthony
Twiner, the conductor, on his way to the
pit. He redirected embarrassed boyfriend
and, as the music started, he and flowers
arrived in the box to the astonishment
of the other guests who, like my boss,
hadn’t known why the performance
that night was of any particular significance.
They joined in the flower_throw with great
enthusiasm though.
Today, flower throws are rare. And there
are no flower wholesalers in the Floral
Hall to provision such spontaneous displays
of appreciation.
Belinda Taylor
Memoir
I can’t go back seventy five years
but I can do fifty. It all started with
Vivien Matthews, whom I met on the floor
of the Albert Hall at a Prom. We became
friends, and one day she said, ‘would
you like to come to the ballet? So, to
the ballet I went. Fifty years later…
Incidentally, the ticket cost 4s 6d (23p).
This was back in the 1950s and it was
comparatively simple to get tickets. You
got on the mailing list, turned up on
the first day of the new booking period
and got them. As far as I can remember
the box office consisted of Dorothy Cole
in a small cubbyhole in Floral Street.
Then everything changed drastically. The
Box Office doubled in size, the Fonteyn
and Nureyev phenomenon was underway and
the queue ticket system became a way of
life for us all. It sounded complicated,
but it worked. It helped that in those
days there must have been two or three
hundred of us, we all understood the system,
and we were all in it together.
The queue ticket system. To put it simply,
the tickets were handed out at eight o’clock
in the morning, fifteen per quarter hour
until everyone in the queue got one. Each
ticket had a number and the time on it,
so for example if yours was number eight
for ten o’clock, you were likely
to get served at about ten past ten. It
took about two minutes to get your tickets
and pay for them, and off you went. Incidentally
I should mention that of course tickets
were rationed, I think it was twenty each,
no more than four per Fonteyn performance.
I hear you cry, all this at ten o’clock
in the morning? Yes. What you did was
shift your lunch hour. Or you took a morning
off, or got someone else to go back and
get your tickets for you. It could always
be done. I well remember someone called
Hymie whom I just about knew by sight,
coming up to me and saying, ‘Can
you pick my tickets up for me?,’
thrusting a fistful of notes at me, and
making off. ‘But how will I get
them to you,’ I asked having no
idea where he worked or anything about
him. ‘I’ll ring you, what’s
your number?’ he said casually.
It turned out to be a cunning ploy to
get me to go out with him, but I got out
of that one.
But by this time the queue had become
something rather more than turning up
at eight o’clock. Not only had Fonteyn
and Nureyev become the hottest ticket
in the world, but the Royal Ballet was
arguably in the most wonderful shape it
has ever been before or since. Sibley,
Dowell, Park, Seymour, Beriosova, MacLeary,
Nerina, Blair, the unforgettable Stanley
Holden. And coming along Mason, Bergsma,
Parkinson, Jenner, Penney. How lucky we
were to be there.
Not that luck had much to do with it.
By now the simple queue ticket system
had escalated into the overnight queue
system. It soon became obvious that first
thing in the morning on the day was too
late! Five_thirty the night before was
more like it. The queue list made its
debut. The evening before booking the
first person to arrive started the numbered
list. After putting your name on the list
you were free to go to a show as long
as you were back by midnight when there
was a final roll call. And there you stayed,
all night.
Sleeping bags, lilos, blankets littered
Floral Street. You were allowed to sleep
in a car as long as you stayed in it,
put on your honour not to drive away.
To the best of my knowledge no_one ever
cheated. The system had its little problems
and dramas. Mrs O. lived in Lewisham and
always turned up first thing in the morning.
On one occasion there had been rain and
severe flooding in Lewisham with transport
disrupted. Seven o’clock came, by
eight o’clock still no Mrs O. We
were all making panic arrangements to
let her have some of our ticket ration
when she strolled up. ‘How did you
get here,’ we asked. ‘Well.
I took a bus to where the floods were,
walked through the water, got another
bus, and here I am.’ We should not
have asked!
The great character of those days was
Mr Marshall – Alec, but no one would
have dared to use it. He looked and behaved
exactly like Mr Khruschev. ‘Will
you be quiet please,’ was his constant
request, scaring everyone around him.
There was also Sergeant Martin in his
cloak and top hat, always polite, always
on the side of the queuers. An unknown
woman tried to gate crash when he loomed
up behind her. ‘I’ve already
explained the system to madam in the front
of house queue,’ he boomed, and
madam melted away. On one occasion when
Vivien and I were sleeping in her car
there was a bang on the door. ‘Queue
tickets in ten minutes.’ Apparently
the management had decided to catch us
all on the hop. Needless to say in ten
minutes we were all lined up to receive
them.
A vintage queue was for the Drury Lane
season while repairs were being made to
the Opera House. The booking system had
been explained to the staff there, but
when they began dishing out the queue
tickets they were for the days ahead.
It was going to take a week for them to
sell us our tickets. The Drury Lane staff
did not honour the queue tickets and sold
to all corners ahead of those who had
queued for them. We organised a rota of
volunteers to ensure that only holders
of queue tickets got served. The season
was worth it all.
They were great days, we had fun, friendships
were made, gossip and news were exchanged.
The performances made everything worth
while. I couldn’t go back to it
now but I wouldn’t have missed it
for anything.
Pat Cowley
Memoir
One of the treasured days of our lives.
The Dame, Ninette de Valois, was to celebrate
her eightieth birthday and the Ballet
Association wanted to mark the occasion
with a special gift.
Once the members knew we were collecting
for a present they were very generous
with their donations. By the time that
the collection closed we knew that we
would be able to afford a special gift.
Wanting to get something she really wanted
we asked our president David Drew what
he thought Madam would like. After a little
thought he decided that some crystal wine
glasses would be ideal.
I went to Selfridge and after walking
through the glass section in the basement
about three times trying to make my mind
up bought a set of Waterford crystal glasses.
David was very helpful and arranged that
we would go and call at Madam’s
house in Barnes around lunch time on her
birthday which was providentially for
us a Sunday.
Feeling decidedly nervous Joan and myself
rang the door bell of Madam’s house.
We need not have worried. She was very
hospitable. We were invited in to sit
in her garden where she served us wine
and a generous supply of nibbles.
At twelve o’clock an interview she
had recorded was being broadcast on the
radio which we all listened to. Madam
really endeared herself to us then, this
lady whom we had always thought so fierce
turned to Arthur her husband anxious to
know if she sounded alright, was he really
sure. He reassured her and we realised
that he had probably been the one person
that she had shared her doubts and worries
with over all the years.
Joan Seaman and Sylvia Tyler
Memoir
For various reasons I had the unusual
and wonderful opportunity to watch a rehearsal
of the Swan Lake pas de deux at the Royal
Ballet school in Barons Court in about
1961 (possibly 1962). It was at the time
when Margot Fonteyn was looking to find
a new partner after Michael Somes. She
was rehearsing with David Blair. There
were only four of us in the studio. Fonteyn,
David Blair, the pianist and myself. Her
attention to detail, her musicality, the
use of her upper body, face and eyes,
and of course her line was striking. It
was an unique and wonderful experience
of an exceptional artist.
In about 1961 or 1962 I was privileged,
as a ballet student, to be at a rehearsal
at the Royal Opera House when Ninette
de Valois was rehearsing the wonderful
Lynn Seymour on stage, with the orchestra
– I think. There were only a few
other people on stage as far as I can
remember but all were in rehearsal clothes
and Lynn had a tutu skirt on. She was
rehearsing a solo with a lot of pirouettes
in it. She was experiencing difficulty
with the turns on this occasion. De Valois
came from the stalls to give advice to
Lynn then returned to her seat and conferred
with Sir Frederick Ashton. It was very
exciting to see all these wonderful people
at work in the Royal Ballet at the Opera
House.
Diana McGuiness
MemoirMy love of ballet began, as happens
so often, at the age of four when I started
taking classes. But, by the age of eight,
piano and horses had intervened, and it
was not until the early 1970s that a trip
to Covent Garden reignited my interest
in the ballet and my love of dance was
revived. Sadly, though, by that time I
was traveling extensively abroad and had
little time to attend many performances.
However, I chanced to be back in the country
in the summer of 1980, and a friend and
I were fortunate enough to secure tickets
for the Royal Ballet’s tribute to
HM Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother on
the occasion of her 80th birthday on 4th
August that year.
My seat was N21 in the Amphitheatre and
cost £5. The excitement was palpable,
not only because of the expectation of
a wonderful triple bill (the tried and
trusted Mam’zelle Angot, A Month
in the Country and the world premiere
of Rhapsody) but also, in that earlier
age, because of the respect and affection
in which the Royal Family, and particularly
the Queen Mother, were held, all of which
added to the thrill.
For me it proved to be a magical evening.
The greeting for the royal party on their
arrival was tremendous. Although I had
seen before, and loved, A Month in the
Country, Mam’zelle Angot was new
to me and proved a delight. But the icing
on the cake was Rhapsody, which was dedicated
by Sir Frederick Ashton to the Queen Mother
in honour of her birthday. It was so exciting
to see Baryshnikov at the height of his
powers dancing with our own Lesley Collier,
and what a pairing it was! The applause
was thunderous and went on and on.
I went home that evening on Cloud Nine
and remember thinking that if I died that
night I should die very happy.
Looking back at the programme now, in
2006, it’s wonderful to see the
names of old favourites in the cast, most
of whom we no longer see performing. But
there in the cast list of Rhapsody is
Genesia Rosato who still delights us with
her on stage performances, and of course
Philip Gammon who played for that first
performance of Rhapsody and just about
every performance since.
Good luck for the next 75 years.
Liz Bouttell
Memoir
Watching the Royal Ballet for the past
thirty_five years has given me a wealth
of memories, most of them good. There
have been many truly great performances
but the feelings, the insight, left by
a great ballet performance defeat words.
So here’s a funny moment. I attended
a Friends’ rehearsal of Four Schumann
Pieces, revived after a long interval.
At one point Anthony Dowell did a leap
which ended in a slide to the edge of
the stage and I thought, ‘only Anthony
Dowell could do a step like that.’
Then I realised that he had in fact fallen.
Beautiful, like all his movements.
Viuu Menning
Memoir
I have been fortunate enough to see the
Company dance, during overseas tours on
several occasions. There is something
special about seeing your company dancing
on tour; and especially in New York. From
a host of memories I recall two.
It was during the height of the IRA Bobbie
Sands hunger strikes, and there was a
great deal of anti-British feeling amongst
the Irish community in New York. The opening
night of the season was to be Beauty and
Prince Charles and Nancy Reagan were to
attend the gala performance.
All day we watched on television as the
news reports showed the growing demonstration
outside the Met. We were not cheered by
reports that Irish members of New York’s
‘finest’ were going off duty
and joining the demonstration. However
as we were staying a couple of blocks
directly behind the Met we were comforted
by the thought that we could bypass the
demonstration by entering the plaza from
the rear.
Not to be. The police had not only cordoned
off the rear entrance but also those on
the side. There was no alternative but
to enter by the front and face the demonstrators.
Just to make things a little more unpleasant,
instead of keeping the demonstrators to
one side of the access way, they had instead
created an alley between two blocks of
the demonstrators and you were literally
obliged to run the gauntlet. Clutching
one another Lori and I held our heads
up, thought of England and set off. On
a number of occasions people ducked under
the pickets and took our photos. Convinced
we were now on some IRA file, we crossed
the plaza.
In the foyer instead of security checks
there was complete pandemonium and we
joked that had we wanted to we could have
smuggled in a sub-machine gun with little
difficulty. We made our away into the
Stalls.
The Prologue began; waves of pride flowing
from us to the stage. Suddenly, a woman
was running down the centre aisle, throwing
leaflets and shouting. The Company danced
on. Two security guards who had been placed
either side of the stage started to run
to the back of the theatre, across the
back and down the centre aisle. Not a
step missed, not a gestured changed, the
Company danced on. The woman turned and
directly facing Prince Charles and Nancy
Reagan screamed abuse at them. Had she
had any sort of gun she would have had
all the time in the world to fire. Finally
the guards reached her and dragged her
screaming from the auditorium.
The variations were in progress and the
Company continued as if nothing untoward
had occurred. Suddenly from the body of
the audience there was a man in the aisle
shouting. He was dragged out. Then, a
man almost immediately behind us stood
up and started shouting. He was literally
hauled over the back wall of the theatre
and out. We in the audience were now in
a state of some anxiety wondering what
was going to happen next, while the Company
danced serenely on to the end of the Prologue.
Without meaning any disrespect to Jennifer
Penney, the Aurora that night, I do not
really recall much else about the performance.
My next memory is much happier, the first
performance of Rhapsody in New York. Whilst
it has now taken its place in the Ashton
canon, at its premiere in London the critics
largely regarded it as a pièce
d’occasion which would disappear
once Baryshnikov had gone. Of course,
history has shown that it has been Lesley
Collier who has been the harder star to
replace.
Sitting in the theatre, willing the piece
to succeed, the first audience reaction
was immediately as the curtain opened
to reveal Anthony Dowell in his self-designed
gold costume. The audience audibly gasped
at this god-like figure and really from
that moment on we were home and hosed.
Lesley’s coloratura feet did their
magic, Anthony whipped the audience into
a frenzy and the audience broke into spontaneous
applause at every opportunity. The pas
de deux took on a true Ashtonian quality
for the first time. By the time we reached
the 19th variation you could see Genesia
Rosato, Bryony Brind, Gail Taphouse et
al looking from one to another and clearly
the thought going through their heads
was ‘We’ve got a hit on our
hands!’
The performance just built and built and
when the boys tossed Anthony into the
air the audience was at fever pitch. You
have to have been at the Met to understand
what it is like to feel the wave of noise
when that audience roars. As I was sitting
in the front row of the stalls it hit
me a nanosecond before it hit the dancers
on stage and I couldn’t have been
prouder had I been up there with them.
Michael Foreman
MemoirLong before I became a serious fan
of the Royal Ballet I came every two or
three years to see Romeo and Juliet. I
loved the music and the choreography told
the story so very well. My one reservation
was the three harlots, their hair annoyed
me intensely and I really did not think
that a nice young man should be too much
in sympathy with a harlot, even on the
stage.
All that changed in 1999 when I was one
of those fortunate people able to support
the Royal Ballet tour to China. On arriving
at a party following the first night of
Romeo and Juliet in Beijing I was greeted
by three pretty girls in little black
dresses, as sweet and demure as they come.
‘We are the three harlots,’
they said in unison. What a way to break
the ice.
At the first four Romeo and Juliets out
of five the harlots were danced by Vanessa
Palmer, Laura Morera and Leire Ortueta.
From that moment to this day I have just
loved the harlots and all of them over
the years have been added to my list of
favourite dancers.
Geoffrey Griffiths
Memoir
During my formative years I was raised
in North Wales. The only time I saw a
ballet was when Swan Lake came to town,
and I decided that it definitely was not
for me.
Then television arrived and I had moved
south. I began to watch the South Bank
Show and my first feelings of interest
in ballet were kindled by a biographical
programme on Sylvie Guillem. I was very
attracted by the bedroom pas de deux from
Manon, which she danced with Zoltan Solymosi.
When subsequently I read that Sylvie was
going to appear in the farewell gala before
me Opera House closed for refurbishment,
I immediately hoped that she would be
dancing the pas de deux. In hopeful expectation
I set my video to record the programme
and was overjoyed when my hopes were fulfilled.
I thought I had never seen anything so
beautiful on TV, especially with Sylvie
being partnered by Jonathan Cope.
But imagine my despair when I checked
my recording and found that the video
machine had stopped recording Immediately
before the Manon extract! I spent most
of the next two days ringing friends and
acquaintances in the hope that somebody
had recorded the programme, but nobody
had. One had recorded the first part but
had fallen asleep during the Vicar of
Dibley and had not woken up to record
the second part.
In desperation I rang the BBC, where they
commiserated with me and subsequently
sent me a copy of their recording with
a time signature appearing in the top
left hand corner. I was so grateful and
became determined to see Sylvie and Jonathan
in the ballet if and when it appeared
on the programme of the refurbished house.
To achieve this I became a Friend which
eventually led to my becoming a member
of the Ballet Association.
However, there is also another little
story associated with those turbulent
times. When I was watching the South Bank
Show programme on Sylvie I was puzzled
by the fact that the various participants
pronounced Sylvie’s name differently.
In fact Melvyn Bragg started one way and
finished the other. So I wrote to Sylvie
asking her which way was correct, to which
she replied ‘both are.’ It
is a Spanish name, because her grandfather
was Spanish. In Spain you say Gee-em,
but in France it is said Geelem, voilà.
You just have to decide with your friends
each time if you are going to speak Spanish
or French this particular evening.
I will forever be grateful to Sylvie and
Jonathan for revealing a whole new world
to me and turning me into a balletomane
almost overnight.
Derek Gould
Memoir
‘My brother is in this!’
I discovered the art form of ballet very
late in life. With the Royal Festival
Hall concerts becoming less interesting
to me I thought I would explore the Royal
Opera House music. I knew various suites,
but not complete works. The Royal Opera
House orchestra was known to be very good.
I felt I could just look upon the stage
performances as a bonus.
I think the turning point was on an early
occasion when a tense and very intent
young man who was earnestly following
every movement on stage, turned, almost
apologising, to say ‘my brother
is in this.’ Then followed a real
insight into the world of the classical
dancer. His brother was waiting for acceptance,
or not, into the ballet company. A very
tense and worrying time.
There is a lot more to this art form than
people realise. This was a new world,
and I was getting hooked. Insight days
and evenings as well as masterclasses
followed, together with membership of
the supporting Ballet Association, all
succeeding in encouraging understanding
and appreciation of this high art form.
I had been warned that it would become
an addiction and after only five years
it is.
One evening in the amphitheatre a French
lady told me that having discovered the
Royal Ballet company with its great programmes
she comes once a month on the Eurostar
to see as many performances as possible.
She said ‘you do not know how lucky
you are to have such a great company.’
I hope in the future to see some of the
heritage ‘back catalogue’
of works which so many of us have never
seen. There is so much to discover and
at 75 years old a truly world class company
to perform them. If only we could all
be around to enjoy the next seventy_five
years.
Brian Don
Memoir
From the stage door:
X David Drew writing in my programme when
I was about ten years old. ‘To giggly
for the umpteenth time.’ Fair enough,
after all I was always asking for his
autograph.
X After a performance of Coppélia
a fan gushed up to Johan Kobborg who had
been dancing Franz and said ‘you
remind me of Nureyev.’ Johan’s
response was ‘when he was young
or when he was old?’ Everyone in
the vicinity who heard the exchange fell
about laughing.
At performances:
X When Stuart Cassidy was dancing Romeo
he threw off his cloak in the tomb scene,
showing he was still wearing his track
suit bottoms.
X Matthew Hart’s last performance
with the Royal Ballet. He went on as one
of the peasant girls in Anthony Dowell’s
production of Swan Lake. Michael Nunn
who was playing the drunken cadet kept
trying to get Matthew to sit on his knee.
X Leana Palmer’s last performance
which was in La Fille mal gardée.
We got to the harvest scene, where the
farmers and Lise’s friends do their
dance with the flute boy. On this particular
night, Martin Harvey was meant to dance
the role. He went back to get the flute
but someone else jumped forward. I wondered
who on earth it was. When I looked through
my binoculars again I realised it was
Leana Palmer, dressed as the farm hand
ready to do the dance. Very well she did
it too if I remember rightly. You could
hear the dancers cheering from the wings
when she finished.
X Fiona Chadwick’s last run of performances
were really memorable. The support she
received was incredible, as was the strength
of feeling her departure seemed to create.
X Matthew Hart’s debut in Danses
Concertantes was terrific. He was so outrageous
that my friends and I who were standing
together spent most of the performance
shaking with laughter. Mind you, he was
usually enthusiastic whatever he did,
for instance, I can still see him as one
of Carabosse’s attendants in the
Anthony Dowell production of Sleeping
Beauty jumping on the table, playing with
the cutlery and food.
X Sarah Wildor and Bruce Sansom in La
Fille mal gardée at the Royal Festival
Hall, as they brought such a sense of
fun and rapport that really projected
to the audience.
Flower throws:
X Having organised several flower throws
for various debuts and retirements I can
testify they are very tiring, but great
fun to do. The response to them is usually
terrific. Throws I particularly remember
include those for Lesley Collier, Bruce
Sansom, Anthony Dowell and Irek Mukhamedov.
I am now looking forward to Jonathan Cope’s
farewell throw.
General:
X Given the difficulties of the closure
period, it was wonderful to see the company
come back to the redeveloped Royal Opera
House in one piece, performing as well
as ever.
Rachel Holland
Memoir
In July 1976 my husband joined the University
of Toronto and we moved to Canada. We
were fortunate to have part of the Royal
Ballet accompany us.
Living in York we had taken every opportunity
to watch Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet
when they visited the north and became
firm fans of Stephen Jefferies. How wonderful
that he chose to join the National Ballet
of Canada at the time of our move and
he was an evident inspiration to the company.
Shortly afterwards Alexander Grant became
Director of the National Ballet of Canada
bringing with him some favourites from
the Royal Ballet’s repertoire. He
enriched the repertoire of the National
Ballet and seemed to energise the company.
To have such a company so far from home
was a joy. Stephen Jefferies and Vanessa
Harwood’s interpretation of Elite
Syncopations was worth seeing.
How fortunate to return to England and
find Stephen Jefferies back with the Royal
Ballet.
Patricia and David Chapman
© The Ballet Association 2007
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