Summary
FIFTY-five books on opera adorn my shelves, but only four on ballet, all dating from my youth.
It is not an art form for which I greatly care, but every five years or so I dip my toes into its waters, so to speak, to see if I have changed my mind. While still at school I saw Markova, Dolin, Helpmann and Fonteyn and from these great dancers grew my scepticism; later I saw Nureyev not only on the stage but in the flesh, wooing a young man in Kynance Mews through which, daily, I used to walk my dogs; and I have since seen great Russian companies on flying visits to the Coliseum but always I have been too much aware of the bump, thump, mechanical grind and breathlessness of the business butting in on whatever magic it may have.See the full content of this document
Extract
Bumps, Thumps and Men with No Trousers
Ballet is an extraordinarily formal language, much affected, I imagine, by the exaggerated manners...
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