GENEE.

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1705, 24 March 1913, Page 8

GENEE.

A PEERLESS DANCER. , COMING TO AUSTRALIA. One of the biggest names among the world's stars of tne theatre whom Ine J. C. Williamson management lias secured, for many years is Malic. Adeline Genee-, tlio peerless dancer, announced by caLue to be coming to Australia, bne has been dc-scribed by many writers as "The Spirit ol Gladness," the "Top bead in the Cnanipagno of Life," "Tlio Goddess of Motion," and other line .terms. She is at once a wonder to, and tlio envy ot, ail oilier dancers, and not even Pavlova or tne other ltutsiau dancers who have made such a sensation in London during the past three years liav.e disturbed tile prestige of Genee. Genee is a -native of Aartrus, Jutland, Denmark, and on January G last was -II) years of age. The pupil of hei unclc, M. Alexander Geuee, she commenced dancing at 8 years of age, and. made her debut at tile principal theatre at Copenhagen before she was. 17. Then she went to dance at •the Grand Opera House ill lJerlin, and afterwards to Muhich. In .November, 161)7, she was engaged as premiere danseuse at the Umpire. (London), and, remaining there for ten years, earned the reputation of being tho most graceful arid accomplished dancer in tho world, perpetuating the old italiun school ol dancing, and being also a finished skirt dancer. Some of the ballets she appeared in at the .Empire were "Cinderella,"'' "Coppelia," "Tile Debutante," "Sir Koger de Coverley," and "The Belle/-of, the Ball." She created, a furore in America in 1007 in a ballet entitled "The Soul Kiss."

An American Interview "Genee was tired. The little silver wires of "i'us Silver Star' wtre strained, not near, perhaps, but towards tile breaking point. Tits little hands, all bono ana muscle, with not a vestige of fat about thorn, which she gave me, were damp and cold. Tiie pa-spiration stood in pearl-liko drops upon tier brow and cheeks when shu came, from the light, joyous, apparently ef-' torticss dance to her dressing-room. . "I ought not to sit down in this costume," slie said, but the' next moment she had doiie what sho ought not to do, aud tiio pinkly yellow gauze of The Spirit of Champagne's' skirts was recklessly crushed beneath her. ' . There were two transversa lines on her forehead, the lines of nervo strain, of fatigue. The conversation of the greatest living dancer ran parallel with those lines. "1 have said tuut I wanted to' die before 1 was lorly, when 1 could dance no longer," she said. "That is true. I did not fix that limit for other dancers, only for me. It may not be said that at this or that precise year one 'can dance no more; One dancer may tiro sooner, an-other-later. And it, is ■ not truo that a change tal«;s place iu the bony structure of the foot at any certain, age. Perhaps some women, can dance until they are fiity. But not I. Most of the dancers iii Uertnan and, Italian oiiera dance twice or'three times a week * I have danced eight times <i week for eighteen years. I have danced as much us mo.it dancers have done at fifty. I have never rested. And I should like to rest. I think I deit."

"Would not life be a void if unfilled by tiioso accustomed dancing steps?" Mjlo. i Genee's mind,' as liiinblo as hor toes, read' the question before .t was uttered.. •., ; •'' / , ' "Jtj under some circumstances. . "That sounds like—a husband," I dared fci suggest..,,: .. .... . The 6iuull blue eyes, set far back under a bony structure of. full jutting brow, danced as'nimbly as feet mid mind. "It does," she answered with delightful directness. "My fiarifce is an Englishman, and .is not of tlio stage. It is not fair to say any . more about him. Yes, I shall leave the stage long before I am forty*" ■ I wish I dared tell .when Mile. Genee frill forsake the stage for the fireside, forpako it.- permanently, for she insists that there should not, and will not, be any going back. ' But it was spoken in a gay, confident voicc, between the panting breath of the tired little daucer, and her steadfast blue eyes looking straight into mine demanded a compromise ci sacrecy. and got it. lam afraid of tlio haunting power oi those eyes turned indignant. "The Spirit of Champagne" bubbled up from her chair; and practised a l'ew steps before her mirror, not from the joyousness of the dance, as she might have dono earlier. in tlio week, but from necessity. This - was ii Saturday matinee. Sho .wanted to be quite sure that 'he lino from toe- to knee was perfectly' straight. It is a matter of business, of professional pride, of a reputation., to bo lived np to, that that ; lino bo undeviating. Lesser dancers' bend tho leg and turn the toe inward. Not Genee. Sho will leave tho stage long before she contracts my such degenerate habit. 1 She will leave it in one of those months that seem to have been placed in tlio calendar especially for tho use of brides. But, there, I will positively tell no more about it. Tho fear of those deep-set blue, eyes is upon me. When Adeline Genee has . been lost to the stage, transformed into Mrs. Somebody, mistress of, an' Enclish iiome, who will succeed her? —"The Theatre." Since tho above interview was published Mdlle. Genee has been married to Mr. F. Isitt, a London musician. .