Prima Ballerinas 616

Marie Taglioni: A Life in Dance To write of Marie Taglioni is to write of the dawn of Romantic ballet. Before her, the steps were grand, the emotions contained. She, a wisp of a girl with the heart of a poet, shattered the conventions and soared on the wings of imagination. Born in 1804 in Stockholm, to the Italian dancer, Filippo Taglioni, and his wife, Marie, the stage was, in a sense, her cradle. I remember as a child, barely past the age of five, watching her pirouette across the stage in Paris. The elegance of her form, the sheer ethereal beauty of her movement, was unlike anything I had seen before. The lightness, the airiness of her leaps, were the stuff of dreams. The critics were mesmerized. She was an overnight sensation. Her very first role, "La Sylphide", was a revolution. A magical creature who lived among the forests, the very spirit of the wind, she danced a story of love and loss, innocence and despair. The delicate choreography, designed by her father, was tailored to her petite physique, emphasizing grace over power. Her leaps, almost weightless, seemed to defy gravity, her pointe work, revolutionary for the time, imbued with such exquisite balance, the very essence of lightness. She became the emblem of Romantic ballet. She captivated Paris. The elegant gowns she wore, designed specifically for her slender form, reflected the Romantic ideals of the time - ethereal beauty, and graceful flowing movements. They accentuated the fragility of her figure and heightened the dramatic impact of her dancing. One remembers the white tutu, a stark departure from the traditional longer dresses of the period, which would come to be synonymous with ballet. This creation, conceived by her father, and crafted by a talented costume designer, redefined what a dancer wore on stage. The lightness, the simplicity, the delicate tulle - it was the embodiment of innocence, of dreams. But beyond the physical spectacle, her brilliance lay in her ability to translate emotions into dance. In "La Sylphide", the tragedy of her doomed love, the pathos of her loss, all were communicated through subtle changes in posture, the flicker of a glance, the fluttering of her hands. Her genius lay in her ability to express emotion with a minimal vocabulary. She could weep through her movements, whisper through the delicate arabesques, express the pangs of love with a poignant gesture. This innate ability was further enhanced by her training. Her father, a man obsessed with pushing the boundaries of dance, rigorously honed her skills, and drilled into her the classical vocabulary. But he also encouraged her to think, to express, to understand the narrative beneath the movements. It was this unique blend of meticulous training and unrestrained artistry that led to her unparalleled success. And yet, life was not always a triumphant procession. In 1832, the death of her beloved sister, Pauline, a tragic event that haunted her forever, plunged her into deep despair. But it was this very darkness that informed her work. The grief that clung to her like a shadow, found expression in her dance. There was a new depth, a poignancy in her performances. Even her light steps, once so carefree, now carried an undercurrent of sorrow, a sense of vulnerability that resonated with her audiences. There was a personal tragedy in her marriage. Her union with the Comte Gilbert de Voisins, in 1832, failed miserably. It was a union arranged for social reasons, her love life, often discussed and scrutinized, was not one she openly shared. It was not to be a happy union and the marriage quickly ended, though it led to a scandal at the time. But this, in her own words, strengthened her will, pushing her to achieve success in her career and to rely on herself and on her ability as a dancer, a power that none could take from her. And there was an enduring artistic bond that endured with the great composers of her time. She famously collaborated with the eminent composer, Frédéric Chopin. It was a collaboration built on mutual admiration. They shared a similar creative vision, an ability to transcend the everyday, to reach for the sublime. It was a unique meeting of minds. Their artistic partnership resonated with her audiences. In many respects, the creative spark between them redefined what was expected from a ballet production. Chopin, sensitive and introspective, had once said about Taglioni’s “La Sylphide”: "The music is but a shadow of the graceful dance" These words, filled with emotion, illustrate the way their talents enhanced each other. They pushed each other’s talents further. Chopin’s evocative scores breathed life into her creations and the poetry of her movements provided a physical embodiment to his music. He composed music expressly for her to perform and her own sensitivity to emotion provided a framework within which he was free to create the emotional resonance to match the ballets she danced. The delicate nuances of his piano pieces became a leitmotif for the way in which Taglioni expressed her emotion in dance. Their relationship reflected a collaboration between two giants, two artistic personalities who came together, defying the conventions of the times, to create a truly unique partnership. And so she danced, captivating the hearts of many throughout her career, not only as an extraordinary dancer but as a true artiste. Even during the latter half of her life, although her retirement came relatively early, due to her health, her influence remained powerful. It was through her instruction and influence that a generation of young dancers were trained and nurtured. She never fully abandoned the stage. On special occasions, she would revisit the role that made her a legend, "La Sylphide," or the role that epitomised her technical prowess, “Giselle”. But it was clear that her real legacy, the true expression of her talent, lay not in performing the familiar routines of her younger days, but in imparting her wisdom, her insight into the world of ballet. It was this dedication to sharing her artistry, her passion, and her wisdom, that sealed her legacy. Even in her later years, long after her final curtain call, Marie Taglioni, the woman, the dancer, remained an icon, a beacon for young ballerinas to strive for. Today, in 2023, she remains an enigma. There are, of course, many photographs of her. We see the exquisite form, the graceful elegance of her movements captured in stillness, the beauty and power of a figure etched into the pages of ballet history. But her actual, true personality is still debated. Her writings, her words are scant, leaving us to glimpse only an ethereal being, the Sylphide, gliding through our imagination, an exquisite creation, forever immortalized in dance. Her art remains her true legacy, and we, the fortunate viewers who have watched her, or those of us who study her work, and strive to follow in her footsteps, know the magic she brought to the world. Her life, though short in years, was filled with the light and spirit of the true artist. She left us a rich heritage, one that continues to inspire generations of dancers, for whom, as her very being, she remains a beautiful and transcendent, artistic force. And who was the real Marie Taglioni? Her life, like her artistry, remains an enigma, veiled in the ethereal mystery of her art. The fragility, the passion, the sense of being forever in motion, these were what she gave to us through her performances, her essence remains the soul of Romantic ballet, she brought romance, love and life to a genre of dance that, in truth, needs a heart and soul to be truly successful. She gifted us with so much beauty, an embodiment of an ideal that has shaped ballet into a genre of its own.