Imperial Dancer: Mathilde Kschessinska and the Romanovs by Coryne Hall

F OREWORD
    I t has been said that Mathilde Kschessinska ‘loved ballet in general and life in particular’. On the contrary: she loved ballet in particular and life in general. She certainly led an exciting life. It was an era of true glamour in Russia among the elite. Through her royal liaisons first with Tsarevich Nicholas and later with other members of the Romanov family, Kschessinska secured her position as the reigning Prima Ballerina assoluta of the Maryinsky Theatre. The best of her success as a woman was her charm, femininity and inexhaustible sense of flirtation whether with men or an audience. This quality combined with her determination and the incredible energy that she put into her training to achieve her virtuoso technique justified her ballerina status. She was considered to be ‘a terre-à-terre dancer, without much elevation, but quick in movement, dazzling in her pirouettes and bubbling over with smiles and charm. She once danced thirty-two fouettés and after a storm of applause, sweetly danced thirty-two more.’ Kschessinska’s life still fascinates people because in our modern time there is a lack of that kind of elegance, grandeur and particularly the mystique of glamour.
    Mathilde was a unique figure not only in ballet, but in Russian history as well. Even at an early age, her outgoing personality made an impression on royalty. As a student she was described as ‘small, pretty, vivacious and self-confident’. After her graduation performance from the Imperial school, Emperor Alexander, who was in attendance with his family including Tsarevich Nicholas, summoned her. As she curtseyed to the Emperor, he proclaimed ‘Be the glory and adornment of our ballet.’ Indeed that is what she became.
    In my time at the Vaganova Ballet School, during the Soviet period, little was said about the legendary Kschessinska. Her affiliations with the Romanovs and her extravagant lifestyle were a taboo subject. We heard the stories that Diaghilev once created a blue costume for her to match her sapphires, but that seemed unimaginable. Our school library had photos of Spessivsteva, Pavlova and Karsavina but I don’t remember any pictures of Kschessinska. Who would think that in later years that I would choose to stay in the West and my photos would betaken off the walls of the Vaganova School and my name, too, removed from the history books? When I returned to the Soviet Union after nineteen years of exile to perform once again at the Maryinsky Theatre, I was presented on stage with a wonderful statuette of Kschessinska in her Esmeralda costume with a replica of her pet goat. (Esmeralda was one of her most famous roles and she used to bring her goat on stage in the performance.)
    I have often been asked whether Kschessinska left me a crown that Nicholas II had given her. I wonder how these rumours begin. It seems there are not many people left in the ballet world that have met Mathilde Felixovna Kschessinska. I was lucky enough to have spent time with her. Either that means I am of a certain age or I was very young when I met her. (I was very young, of course.) It certainly was a memorable occasion for me when Serge Lifar took me to see her. Hopefully you will continue to read this comprehensive biography of Kschessinska’s fascinating life and you will get to p. 300 where I describe our dinner together. I would like to add that at the end of the evening, as I was leaving, she tried to curtsey. A bit tipsy, she almost lost her balance. But she quickly regained her composure. Gracious, looking pretty with pearls around her forehead, her eyes still sparkling and mischievous, even in her nineties, she bade me farewell.
    I do not believe that Kschessinska’s success was only based on her love of power and diamonds. Yes, she could be irresistible to those she wished to please, but it didn’t just come from charm. She had virtuosity, technique, artistry and great magnetism. In retrospect, when a person has everything