Imperial Dancer: Mathilde Kschessinska and the Romanovs (12 page)

The coronation took place in the Uspensky Sobor, one of the three great Kremlin cathedrals, on 14 May. Mathilde obtained a seat in one of the tribunes outside, from where she could watch the Emperor and Empress descend the Red Staircase from the Kremlin Palace as the bells of 1,600 Moscow churches pealed joyfully. Afterwards Mathilde found it extremely upsetting to watch Nicholas and his wife, crowned and robed, walk in procession across the square under huge canopies. That night the Emperor and Empress appeared on the Kremlin Palace balcony and, as Alexandra pressed a switch hidden in a bouquet of flowers, magnificent illuminations lit up the city.

Many balls and festivities were given in honour of the coronation and at one of these Mathilde and her friend, the Moscow ballerina Ekaterina Geltzer, sold champagne.

Mathilde danced in the normal performances during the Moscow season, receiving many bouquets as well as a pretty silver basket, but
there was general surprise when her name appeared on the programme for the coronation gala on 17 May. It was known that the Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna had been opposed to her inclusion, saying that her appearance would be ‘a scandal’.
²⁵
Several writers have mentioned that the Dowager Empress did not want Mathilde to dance in front of the young Empress but, of course, she had already done so.

The Bolshoi Theatre had been refurbished at a cost of 50,000 roubles. A foreign guest later observed that he was almost blinded by the sparkling diamonds of the ladies in the audience. ‘We went to the Bolshoi for the gala performance. As usual, they were giving the first and last act of
A Life for the Tsar
and a beautiful new ballet,
The Pearl
,’ Nicholas wrote in his diary that night.
²⁶
That was his only comment.

Krasnoe Selo was enlivened for Mathilde by the presence of Grand Dukes Cyril and Boris. Yet the coronation celebrations and the lively summer season hid disturbing undercurrents beneath the surface. During the festivities in Moscow over 1,000 people were crushed to death in a stampede for the free food, drink and a souvenir mug at the traditional People’s Fete on Khodynka Meadow. The Tsar and Tsarina, misled as to the magnitude of the catastrophe, attended the French Ambassador’s ball that evening, while the peasants murmured about their heartlessness.

Nicholas paid for the funerals out of his own purse but the damage had been done. The sovereigns were condemned as callous and heartless and the disaster was seen as a bad omen for the new reign.

Five

‘M
AGNIFICIENT
M
ATILDA
’

O
n 1 November 1896 Mathilde was appointed Prima Ballerina
assoluta
of the Imperial Theatres,
¹
the only pre-Revolutionary Russian dancer to be given this title. Nevertheless, her struggle to take over first place at the Maryinsky continued and Legnani still received all the best roles.

At the Maryinsky the ballerina was queen. Conductors held up the music so that the orchestra would finish as the dancer completed her
variation
(solo); ballerinas introduced steps which would exhibit their particular skill and even included a favourite
variation
from another ballet (often with music by a completely different composer) into a work. They had the best dressing rooms, which opened directly off the artists’ foyer on the same level as the Maryinsky stage. Senior ballerinas, particularly Mathilde, fought to keep the roles which they had been allocated.

In 1895 Johansson began teaching ‘the class of perfection’ (the ‘ballerinas’ class’), for Mathilde and others who had already graduated. Mathilde developed an incredibly demanding technique. ‘When practising, she would put four chairs in a square and swing her legs within the tight space of the square. If she had touched the back of a chair, the force of her swing would immediately have broken a leg.’
²
This technique may partly be attributable to Cecchetti, whose classes Mathilde resumed in 1899.

On 4 September 1896 Mathilde danced the full three acts of
La Fille mal Gardée
, ‘the best comedy role in the repertoire’, for the first time. With choreography by Petipa and Ivanov, it tells the story of Lise and Colin, her lover, ‘and their attempts to outwit her mother’s plans to marry her to Alain, the simple-witted son of a rich landowner’.
³
The role of the high-spirited, flirtatious Lise was perfect for the bubbly Mathilde – but critics recognised in her portrayal a projection of her shrewd, conniving, off-stage personality. She danced it with brio and it later became one of her favourite ballets.

Later that month Mathilde danced in Rimsky-Korsakov’s opera-ballet
Mlada
, in which her
variation
to the accompaniment of the harp delighted the audience. She took over the leading role of Therese in
The Cavalry Halt
after Legnani danced it at the première in January 1896. Yet when a new ballet,
Bluebeard
, was performed on 8 December for Petipa’s benefit performance the plum role was again given to Legnani. Mathilde danced Venus in the last act but ensured that her name was alongside Legnani’s on the posters. Others who danced Venus were not so fortunate. Their names were down below with the junior soloists.

That season Mathilde received yet another Imperial gift, this time from Grand Dukes Vladimir, Alexei and Paul Alexandrovich (the Tsar’s uncles) and his great-uncle Grand Duke Michael Nicolaievich (Sergei’s father). The present was a ring-shaped diamond brooch with four huge sapphires and it came in a case accompanied by a little plaque engraved with their names.

This was a welcome boost, because Mathilde had suddenly noticed that the Tsar and Tsarina invariably attended the ballet on Sundays, while the administration arranged that she would perform only on Wednesdays. After several weeks Mathilde was at last given a Sunday performance of
The Sleeping Beauty
– only to find that Nicholas had been persuaded by the administration to attend the French play at the Michaelovsky Theatre. Mathilde therefore wrote to the Tsar, explaining the position and saying she found it impossible to remain on the Imperial stage under such conditions. The letter was personally delivered by Grand Duke Sergei Michaelovich, President of the Russian Theatrical Society, who was only too willing to do everything in his power to help. All Mathilde could do now was wait.

Sunday arrived. The Imperial box remained empty and the company was disillusioned, knowing that the Tsar would not come when Kschessinska was dancing. The Director of the Imperial Theatres, Ivan Vsevolozsky, who was obliged to be in whichever theatre the Tsar and Tsarina attended, had gone to the Michaelovsky Theatre to welcome the Imperial party. Suddenly, moments before the curtain was due to rise, there was a commotion as the Tsar arrived unexpectedly. Someone telephoned Vsevolozsky, who hurried over from the Michaelovsky Theatre to greet the sovereign, and the ballet began in a fever of excitement. Again Mathilde was triumphant, blaming the episode on intrigues by her enemies in the theatre.

On 9 February 1897 Mathilde danced in a revival of the ballet
Le Roi Candaule
, based on the story of Gyges, King of Lydia. She had first
danced this work in 1893 but now completely eclipsed the Moscow ballerina Nelidov, who was dancing the chief role of Queen Nisia.

The season ended with a gala in honour of the Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria in which Mathilde danced Aurora. ‘At 8pm we went to the gala performance of
The Sleeping Beauty
,’ the Tsar wrote in his diary. ‘They showed two acts. Wonderful!’
⁴

At Strelna during the summer of 1897 the bicycling craze arrived and Mathilde soon became adept. She had been given a cycling skirt by Sophie, Countess de Torby (a granddaughter of Pushkin), the morganatic wife of Sergei’s brother Grand Duke Michael Michaelovich. Michael had been banished from Russia by Alexander III for marrying beneath his station and Sophie had vowed never to set foot in Russia again, so presumably Mathilde had met her on the Riviera.

Mathilde liked to cycle along the St Petersburg highway via Mikhailovskoe (the estate of Sergei’s father), and Znamenka (the property of Sergei’s uncle Grand Duke Nicholas Nicolaievich senior). Just beyond Znamenka was the Alexandria Park, the north-eastern part of the Peterhof estate where the Tsar usually spent most of the summer staying at the Villa Alexandria with his family. Mathilde’s route was obviously chosen in the hope of meeting him. She often met Sergei’s older brother George, with whom she formed a close friendship, or his father who insisted she execute figures of eight on her bicycle, a feat she was not always able to perform successfully.

One day Sergei brought a message that the Tsar and Tsarina would be driving past Strelna and that Mathilde must without fail be in her garden. Mathilde chose a bench from where she could easily be seen. As they drove slowly past she stood up and made a deep curtsey, receiving ‘an affectionate response’. This reassured Mathilde that Nicholas had obviously told his wife about their earlier affair and not concealed anything (how could he, after those letters?). He was now, she thought, tactfully showing his thoughtfulness and concern.
⁵
Mathilde drew enormous consolation from this, but what the Empress felt can only be imagined.

Sergei had the forest near the dacha thickly planted with mushrooms. Every morning they wandered through the woods piling their baskets high, then returned to Strelna where the mushrooms were cooked in butter and cream, cut up into small pieces and served Russian style. Yet nothing the devoted Sergei could do would change the fact that Mathilde was still in love with the Tsar. She had Sergei’s
‘protection’, she had the use of his vast wealth, he showered her with jewels – but she certainly did not love him.

That summer Mathilde appeared in three gala performances. On 23 July she danced
Coppelia
at the Peterhof Theatre for the King of Siam; and in August, accompanied by the opera chorus, danced the polonaise and mazurka from Glinka’s opera
A Life for the Tsar
before President Fauré of France.

The most brilliant gala was given on 28 July in honour of the Empress’s cousin Kaiser Wilhelm II. This was an open-air performance of the ballet
Peleus
. Mathilde danced on a specially built stage on Olga Island, an artificial island on the upper lake at Peterhof. The distinguished guests, in uniforms and evening dresses, reached the island in boats. The hills formed a natural backdrop and the whole scene glowed like something from a fairytale under electric lights. ‘A more wonderful setting … could hardly be imagined,’ wrote one of the dancers.
⁶
Mathilde positioned herself on a little island decorated as a grotto, not far from the stage. As the music began the grotto opened and Mathilde stepped on to a mirror which then glided towards the stage. The effect was as if she was walking on the water.

Shortly afterwards Mathilde received an invitation from the Kaiser to dance in Berlin. It was politely declined. In her memoirs Mathilde explained that she preferred to live in her own house rather than endure long absences from Russia by touring abroad. Germany was also the Empress’s country, so maybe that had something to do with it.

Mathilde opened the autumn season at the Maryinsky on 10 September with
The Sleeping Beauty
. Then Legnani fell seriously ill and Kschessinska had to carry the full repertoire until almost the end of the year. This included
Paquita, Mlada
and
La Fille mal Gardée
. A new ballet, Ivanov’s
The Mikado’s Daughter
was also given its première but was not a success.

Felix Kschessinsky, ‘the King of the Mazurka’, celebrated sixty years on the Warsaw and St Petersburg stage in 1898, still an acclaimed dancer. A benefit performance was given at the Maryinsky on 8 February. After the mazurka, in which he was partnered by Mathilde, the ovation was so great that they had to give an encore. Then, with the curtain raised, there were presentations from the ballet, opera and drama companies. Meanwhile cases of presents were passed up from the orchestra pit, including a chest of silver items so heavy it needed several people to lift it. The Tsar was present in the Imperial box. ‘They showed three different ballets and the old man Kschessinsky’s benefit
performance.… He danced several mazurkas himself. The performance was splendid,’ Nicholas wrote in his diary.
⁷
There was no comment about Mathilde.

She took advantage of Lent to spend two weeks travelling in Italy with her godmother Mme Paule-Marie, a seasoned, although Mathilde thought rather eccentric, traveller who always travelled by night in order not to lose any daylight for sightseeing. Mathilde loved the country, which she called ‘my beloved Italy’, and returned to it time after time for short holidays.
⁸

She went via Warsaw, another place of which she was particularly fond, spending the evening there and catching the night train to Czenstokow. Her arrival at 4 o’clock in the morning was timed to coincide with the daily ceremony of raising the curtain in front of the statue of the Holy Virgin of Czenstokow, which took place with great solemnity accompanied by organ music. This miraculous image was venerated all over Poland. Mathilde went straight from the church to the hotel, where to her surprise, the room was full of flowers from admirers.

Mathilde was always more than happy to dance at the Grand Theatre in Warsaw. During the summer of 1898 she performed there with Kyasht and Bekeffi, receiving an enthusiastic reception from the public and the critics. After rehearsals she organised daily lunches for her many friends in the theatre and Warsaw society. One of these was a handsome young Pole who she claimed wanted to marry her. When she left he was at the station to see her off.