Diaghilev and after

Press, 2 July 1983, Page 18

Diaghilev and after

In the Wake of Diaghilev. Autobiography H. By Richard Buckle. Collins, 1982. 387 pp. Illustrations. $28.95.

(Reviewed by

Tui Thomas)

Richard Buckle’s “Autobiography II" will be appreciated most by middleaged to elderly balletomanes who were at least aware of Russian ballet in the 1920 s and 1930 s and of the man who introduced it to the West — the notorious Serge Diaghilev. The theme of the book is ballet and what happened to Diaghilev’s company of artists after his death. Buckle, the London ballet writer and critic, is so absorbed with the art that he had to devote a 350-page book to his association with it in his series of autobiographies. His fascination with ballet began in 1933 when he was 17, through reading about the legendary Vaslac Nijinsky and Diaghilev; then by going to watch some of their contemporaries dance in companies formed after the great impresario’s death in 1929. From then on Dicky Buckle “swam along in the wake of Diaghilev for nearly 50 years,” with a break for war service. He sought out remaining artists of the original Ballets Russes to get their personal views on Diaghilev, wrote a scholarly biography about him, and mounted a superb Diaghilev Exhibition in Edinburgh and London to mark the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Russian’s death. It was an entirely new concept for an exhibition and its tremendous success contributed to his award of a C.B.E. in 1979. Buckle was also instrumental in founding the Theatre Museum in London, which has a priceless ballet collection. This talented writer is most entertaining when discussing people. He made many close friends among Diaghilev’s old troupers, including the ballerinas Karsavina, Lopoukova and Sokolova and the secretary-librettist, Boris Kochno. He discusses them without sentimentality, yet brings them alive with all their human frailties. Dicky Buckle pulls no punches. He’s gossipy, aesthetic, tough and

sometimes touching in his comments about people, but never bitchy. His sound judgment comes from thorough research and experience. He was the most feared, infuriating, and yet most valued ballet critic when he wrote for the "Observer” and the “Sunday Times.” The adored Anna Pavlova he calls a “sacred monster” — like Maria Callas. He reveals that under the sweet magnetism of the prima ballerina was a vicious, egocentric woman. For instance, Pavlova once begged the director of the Mariinsky Theatre not to overwork a rival ballerina. The young dancer, she said. was consumptive but did not want anyone to know. The spiteful lie misfired for the rival was Tamara Karsavina who, some say, outshone Pavlova and lived to be 93. To the brilliant “animateur," Serge Daighilev, author Buckle gives full credit for presenting Russian music and ballet to the West; for the opportunities he gave dancers, choreographers and composers to develop their talents to the full. But, he says, Diaghilev was a lazy, selfish man who did not give a damn for posterity. “One perfect work of art of his own devising was enough,” Buckle says. “Then his questing soul would be greedy for new sensations. Diaghilev did what he did because he would have been bored if he hadn’t done it, which is the way of the true artist.” Diaghilev and Buckle had many tastes in common, apart from their great love of ballet. Diaghilev was also an expert in mounting exhibitions (the works of Russian artists) and was a writer of some note. Had they been contemporaries, Richard Buckie and Serge Diaghilev would probably have been very close friends — or they would have hated each other. But noone could say Buckle “did not give a damn for posterity.” He set out to write four autobiographical works, each on different aspects of his life and times, he said in his first, “The Most Upsetting Woman.” But will there be any more? In the last paragraphs of Autobiography II it is obvious that he is a very sick man.