Spotlight On: Tamara Karsavina

Tamara Karsavina is one of the greats. Her contributions to dance are undeniable, and a rather large amount of roles she created are still in repertoire. So what was her education and life like?

Her memoir, Theatre Street, covers from her birth in 1885, to the year 1918. Her main focus is on her career. She does, however, give us an insight into her personal life, which was more interesting that I initially expected.

In Spotlight On, I aim to focus on individuals, or theatrical shows, that have contributed a lot to the art as a form. For individuals, I aim to provide a glimpse into their life and works, and make people more familiar with them.

Note: Not all of my sources state whether the dates given are on the Old Style [O.S] or New Style [N.S] Calendar (i.e. the Julian and Gregorian calendars respectively). The Gregorian calendar came into use in Soviet Russia on the 31st January 1918, the day after being the 14th February 1918. I have tried to work around this as much as I can.

Family

Tamara’s Father was a dancer. Platon Konstantinovich Karsavin (1854-1922) trained at the Imperial Ballet School in Saint Petersburg, which is now the Vaganova Academy of Russian Ballet. He was taught by famed choreographer and teacher Marius Petitpa (choreographer of Don Quixote and joint choreographer of The Nutcracker), along with Christian Johansson, who taught the vast majority of Mariinsky Ballet dancers.

In March 1874 he danced a pas de deux from Faust at an examination performance, opposite Maria Gorshenkova, who would later originate the role of Gamzatti in La Bayadere in 1877. On the 26th January 1875 he originated a national dance in The Bandits, produced for the benefit performance of the celebrated dancer Ekaterina Vazem. He was formally admitted into the Mariinsky Ballet in 1875.

Tamara speaks of her Father’s role in Theatre Street. She talks of the fact that his 20 years of service at the company was coming to an end, and as such he can retire with a pension. Service was counted from the age of 16, which would place this extract in around 1890, when Tamara would’ve been about 5.

My Father at this time held the position of first dancer and mime at the Imperial Ballet…I gathered he was still in his prime and a very fine dancer…
Theatre Street, P8

Platon retired in 1891, during a benefit performance of Marius Petipa’s The Pharaoh’s Daughter. He danced a pas d’action in Act II, featuring a solo for him. He received gifts from the Tsar Alexander III: an emerald signet ring, an ornamental bronze clock, and 1000 rubles. Tamara’s Mother Anna thought the retirement came too early (‘So ends his career before his time. All of this is like a funeral pomp to me’), and in Theatre Street Tamara speculated that it was the deterioration of his friendship with Marius Petipa that caused the retirement, although she didn’t know the cause of this deterioration.

In the interval the curtain was raised and the whole company came onto the stage. Father was led in and stood in the middle, and there were presents and wreaths brought on, and speeches made by different deputations. When it was over, Father stepped forward and the audience began clapping. He bowed first to the Imperial box, then to the director’s, and then to the audience in the approved fashion, hand on heart.
Platon’s Farewell Benefit Performance, Theatre Street, P19

After retirement Platon taught at the Imperial Ballet School. Amongst his students were Adolph Bolm, Mikhail Fokine, Alexander Gorsky, and Vasily Tikhomirov, all dancers and choreographers.

Less is known to me about Tamara’s Mother, Anna Iosifovna. Her maiden name was Khomyakova, and she was a great-niece of theologian and philosopher Aleksey Stepanovich Khomyakov. Tamara says she was ‘stern and times, and never foolish or tender’.

Deep in my heart there was a great admiration and pride for her. I liked watching her dress to go out. She had a very small waist and tiny feet, of which she was very proud.
Tamara about her Mother, Theatre Street, P6

Tamara also had a brother, Lev (1882-1952), who was three years older than her. He graduated in 1906 from the School of History and Philology at Saint Petersburg University. He later became a Professor at the same university, earning a Master’s in 1913 and a Doctorate in 1916.

He was briefly arrested and sentenced to deportation in August 1922, but was released before this could happen. In November the same year he was exiled on one of the Philosopher’s ships, and settled in Berlin, Germany, before living in Paris, France from 1926-1928. He was then invited to teach history at Kaunas University in Lithuania, staying there until 1940 when he was transferred to teach at Vilnius University. He took up another teaching position at the Vilnius Academy of Arts the following year.

In 1944 he was expelled from his job at Vilnius University, although he was allowed to keep his position at the Academy of Arts. This would last until 1949, when he was arrested for taking part in the Eurasia Movement, which was deemed anti-Soviet. A sentence of 10 years imprisonment in a correctional labour camp came in March 1950. Two years later, on either the 17th or 20th July, he passed away from tuberculosis, while serving his sentence at the Abez Correctional Labour Camp.

Tamara writes about meeting with her brother during his exile, the year unspecified, where he recalled an interrogation with the Cheka, the Soviet secret police.

The Commissar was stern; he put before my brother of one of the incriminating points: ‘You are in correspondence with abroad? Who are your correspondents?’ ‘My sister’ ‘What is her name?’ ‘Same as mine: Karsavina’ ‘You are the brother of Karsavina?’. The Commissar veered round in his revolving chair. ‘Giselle is her best part, don’t you think?’ ‘I can’t agree with you’ said my brother, ‘I consider the Fire Bird one of her finest achievements’. ‘Oh do you?’. The conversation wandered on to the principles and aims of the arts; the prosecution was forgotten.
Theatre Street, P107

Birth and Early Life (1885-1893)

Tamara Platonovna, or ‘Tata’, was born on the 25th February [O.S] 1885, in Saint Petersburg, the capital of the Russian Empire. She writes in Theatre Street that the family occupied the top floor of a five-storied house, owned by the widow of a wealthy merchant.

She recalls her first memories: watching her Father paint, being ill with lung inflammation, and the recovery period that followed her illness.

I can see even now the little pictures he used to make of different national costumes–Spanish, Hungarian, Ukrainian, Polish–each man with his lady on the opposite sheet.
Tamara on her Father’s Paintings, Theatre Street, P3

She speaks of both her nannies. The longest-serving nannie was Douanisha, who was her ‘foster mother’. She describes her as ‘tall and gaunt’, with long hair, and she was nicknamed ‘Long Nannie’. She stayed close to Tamara until her death in 1917. The other, simply referred to as Nurse, was known as ‘Fat Nannie’, who was a ‘simple peasant woman’, and was dismissed when Tamara was about 5.

Douanisha stayed with the family until Tamara was grown. She was a foundling, who was taken in and looked after by a Finnish couple who lived near Petersburg. Although she doesn’t go into detail, Tamara notes that Douanisha’s affection for her was stronger because she had lost children of her own.

It’s worth noting that the family were not well off, as least from Tamara’s perspective. Only the most famous of dancers could command a high salary. There were the prospect of benefit performances, but again, the popularity of the dancer depended on how many benefit performances they’d get.

Benefit performances could either be held for a singular dancer, and normally referred to as so-and-so’s benefit, or for a group, like a yearly corps de ballet benefit. A certain percentage of the money raised from tickets would go to the dancer, or be divided amongst the group, and would be used to supplement their income.

Even at that time of relatively easy existence, Mother often talked about the difficulty of making both ends meet…She often pawned things, sometimes even borrowed money, and at times had to see the landlady about arrears. Only necessary things were brought for us, and that after some consideration. Practically all our clothes were made at home by her.
The family’s finances, Theatre Street, P11

Amongst the items pawned was the emerald signet ring Platon received at his farewell performance, though the ornamental bronze clock remained in the family as a showpiece.

Education (1893-1902)

Platon was unaware of Tamara’s first dance lessons. He opposed her being a dancer, stating she was too meek, and wouldn’t be able to stand up for herself. Anna, however, thought dance was a good career for a girl, and took Tamara for her first lessons in 1893. Her teacher was Madame Vera Zhukova, a retired Mariinsky dancer, known to Tamara as Aunt Vera.

In early 1894 Platon began teaching Tamara herself. Multiple members of families being dancers was not uncommon. Petipa’s father, Jean-Antoine was a dancer, his brother Lucien was a dancer, his wife Mariia was a dancer, and his daughter Marie was a dancer. Platon may have been against Tamara’s dancing, but once he found out she had an aptitude for it, he taught her rigorously, making sure she ‘put the utmost effort into every task’.

On the 26th August 1894, an important day came: the examination for the Imperial Ballet School. Anna had prepared Tamara for the written portion, and Platon the dance portion. The examination also consisted of a singing exercise, to see whether the prospective students had an aptitude for rhythm. Tamara was among the 10 students who were accepted.

During her first year at school she had small parts in the crowd scenes of ballets. Her first was the last act of Coppélia, which is made up of divertissements, a series of incidental dances. Then she was a page for the Lilac Fairy in Sleeping Beauty, and also had a small crowd role in Le Corsaire. At the end of the first year, she stopped being a day student and became a boarding student.

Tamara’s best friend at school was Lydia Kyasht. Lydia (1885-1959), danced with the Mariinsky, the Bolshoi and with the Ballet Russes. She was prima ballerina at the Empire Theatre in London from 1908-1913, with the roles of Swanhilda in Coppélia and Mimi in Fred Farren’s The Dancing-Master among her repertoire.

*Graduates of the Imperial Ballet School, 1902. Tamara Karsavina is on the right, seated. Lydia Kyasht is second from the left, seated (See below for the other graduates*).

Special performances would be held as well. On 6th December 1896, Tamara danced the small role of the Golden Fish in a special performance of The Little Humpbacked-Horse, on the occasion of the Emperor’s name day. The Tsar was Nicholas II, who had been crowned in Moscow in May 1896; Tamara had been due to be a cupid in a allegorical coronation performance, but had contracted mumps. The following year she was in the corps de ballet for the annual school performance. The ballet was La fille mal gardée, and it served as a graduation performance for three notable dancers: Lyubov Petitpa (1880-1917), the daughter of Marius Petipa and his second wife; Lyubov Yegorova (1800-1972), who danced with the Mariinsky and Ballet Russes; and one of the most famous dancers of all time, Anna Pavlova.

Over the years she was taught by Pavel Gerdt (a noted teacher and dancer, who originated the roles of Prince Désiré in Sleeping Beauty and the Sugar Plum Fairy’s Cavalier in The Nutcracker), along with Enrico Cecchetti (who devised the Cecchetti method of ballet teaching), and Christian Johansson, the same teacher who taught her Father.

The last years at school were a foretaste of the future career. Though the senior girls appeared much less in ballet performances than the small ones, we were known from the school display; we were talked of amongst the artists, and the coming out of promising pupils was anticipated. Within our school world, reputation shaped already….No thought of difficulties on the way to success ever crossed our minds.
Theatre Street, P78-79

Graduation came on the 25th May 1902, the traditional ‘Last Bell’ Day in Russia. Alongside Tamara and Lydia, the female graduates that year were:

Evgenia Lopukhova, 1884-1943. Sister of ballerina Lydia Lopokova and choreographer Fyodor Lopukhov. Danced with the Mariinsky and the Ballet Russes, and was also an operetta actress.
Elena Polyakova, 1884-1972. Danced with the Mariinsky, the Ballet Russes before setting up a ballet company at the National Theatre in Belgrade in 1923. Emigrated to Vienna, Austria in 1943, then Chile in 1949 and taught in Santiago.
Ekaterina Prudnikova.
Alexandra Fedorova, 1884-1972. Danced with the Mariinsky, and married the older brother of Mikhail Fokine, Aleksandr. From 1922-c.1937 she taught and choreographed at the National Opera in Riga, Latvia, before leaving Latvia for the US and opening a school there.
Alexandra Chernyatina.

For the last time we dressed in blue serge and plaited our hair. There was a church service in the morning and thanksgiving. After a hurried lunch we assembled in the big dancing-room in the presence of parents and masters. Father Vassily said a farewell word. We came forward to receive prizes and certificates from the Inspector of classes.
Graduation from the Imperial Ballet School, Theatre Street, P91

Entering the Mariinsky (1902-1908)

1st May 1902. Tamara’s formal debut at the Mariinsky. She danced a pas de deux in the second act of Javotte, a ballet choreographed by Mariquita and originally premiered in Lyon, France, in 1896. The Russian premiere was on the 17th February [O.S] 1902, with Olga Preobrajenska in the title role and Pavel Gerdt as Jean. Tamara’s pas de deux was danced opposite Mikhail Fokine.

I felt eager, yet strangely light-headed, and my limbs trembled slightly. Gerdt kept by me in the preceding interval….He made the sign of the cross over me at the first notes of introduction and hurried over to the first wing to watch me from there.
Tamara on her debut, Theatre Street, P90

She was formally admitted into the Troupe in Spring 1902. Promotions at the Mariinsky were printed in the Journal of Orders, which was a weekly gazette, although promotions were only announced annually. Her salary became 720 rubles a year. In 1896 Platon had lost his job at the Imperial School, and the majority of Tamara’s monthly wage went to supporting the family.

*A Studio Portrait of Karsavina, Early 20th Century*

As most dancers do, she started in the corps de ballet, and danced a lot of smaller roles. There was a principal butterfly in La Source, the Emerald Soloist in Bluebeard, a Flower Vendor in Don Quixote and one of Swanhilda’s friends in Coppélia.

Her first leading role was given to her in the first year of her career, in Le Réveil de Flore, or The Awakening of Flora. This was a one-act ballet, choreographed by Marius Petipa. Unfortunately, she considered it a failure, due to stage fright.

By the evening I was in a wretched state; there was a lump in my throat. I came on, feeling like I was on my trial. All was dizzy before my eyes; I was unsteady, couldn’t get my balance, at my legs shook. At the end applause roared, and bouquets filled the stage. It didn’t cheer me up; I had sentenced myself as a failure. One hope lurked in my mind- perhaps the audience had not noticed my slips; they were cheering me so.
Tamara on her first leading role, Theatre Street, P105

All was not lost though, as she’d be given another leading role in a one-act ballet a season later. A role in Les ruses d’amour, a ballet which had premiered in 1900, and was again choreographed by Petipa, was chosen for her. She danced the role of Isabelle. Valerian Svetlov, the leading ballet critic at the time, said ‘her dances and acting were cute’, but since the ballet was less ballet and more courtly dances (think gavottes and the sarabande), it was hard to critically evaluate her aptitude for classical ballet.

In the third year of her career she was promoted to second soloist, now earning 800 rubles a year. However in May 1904 she fell ill with acute malaria, and received permission to travel to Roncegno, Italy to recuperate. Her Mother accompanied her. Two months later she had recovered, and was due to return to Russia for the start of the season. She decided instead, to spend another two months in Italy, specifically in Milan, studying with Signora Beretta.

Signora Beretta, or Caterina Beretta (1828-1911), had been a principal dancer at multiple theatres across Italy. She also directed the La Scala Ballet School from 1902-1908. Vera Trefilova and Anna Pavlova had both been to study with her, and their praise convinced Tamara that it was the right thing to study with her and build up the technique she lost by being ill.

In Theatre Street she describes Signora Beretta as being ‘fat and short’, and having ‘a very small head with a meagre blob of hair on top’. Her class was rigorous, but Tamara felt she had improved with her jumps, along with her general precision of movement.

Exercises were set in the systematic pursuit of virtuosity; the class was forcible, not a second of rest allowed during the whole bar practise’. The result of it for me was a considerable degree of endurance and amplitude of breath. It was hard at the beginning. I had been used to milder practise, and during my first lesson I fainted at the bar.
Signora Beretta’s Class, Theatre Street, P112

As a result of her excursion to Milan, some of Tamara’s parts had been given to other Mariinsky dancers. It wasn’t until the 13th January 1906 that she gained her first principal role in a full-length ballet. On that evening she danced the Tsar-Maiden in The Little Humpbacked Horse, the same ballet in which she danced the Golden Fish just over 9 years before. The following year she’d debut in the principal role of Medora, in Le Corsaire, one of the classic ballets that is still performed today.

In 1908 and 1909 two more of the classic roles would be added to her repertoire. The dual role of Odette/Odile in Swan Lake in 1908 (pictured as Odile to the left, opposite Pierre Vladimirov as Rothbart), and the title role in Raymonda in 1909. But her best success, was just around the corner.

Diaghilev to the Revolution (1909-1918)

My senses were all blurred on that night. The familiar barriers between the stage and the audience were broken. The side doors with their ingenious locks and stern notices- of no avail. In the interval the stage was so crowded with spectators that there was hardly room to move.
19th May 1909, Theatre Street, P154

Sergei Diaghilev emigrated to Paris in 1906. He organised musical concerts in 1907, an opera in 1908, and in 1909, it was time for ballet. He wasn’t a huge supporter of the ballet, but he was able to rent the Théâtre du Châtelet. He was supported by friends from university. Alexandre Benois and Léon Bakst, both designers. He found choreographers, first Mikhail Fokine, and later, Vaslav Nijinsky, Bronislava Nijinska and Leónide Massine. His first Saison Russe for ballet would open on the 19th May 1909. His company was just called Saison Russe for the first year; it wasn’t until their return to Paris in 1910 that they received their commonly known name: Ballet Russes.

Tours of Russian dancers in Western Europe were uncommon before 1909. There were few, but it was more likely to be the other way around. Marie Taglioni, Lucile Grahn, Fanny Elssler and Carlotta Grisi, famed ballerinas in Europe, had all visit and danced in Russia. Yelena Andreyanova achieved success when touring Europe in 1846, but these tours were few and far between. While Lydia Kyasht and Adolphe Bolm danced at London’s Empire Theatre in 1908, it would be the Ballet Russes’ success that opened the floodgates.

Tamara had first met Diaghilev in 1906, at a dinner following a benefit performance for prima ballerina Mathilde Kschessinskaya. When they met again, in 1909, she agreed to dance in his troupe, though she was also dancing in Prague shortly before the Paris season would open.

On the first night, 19th May 1909, three ballets were given: Le Pavillion d’Armide, Prince Igor (or the Polovtsian Dances from Prince Igor) and Le Festin. Tamara danced a pas de trois in Le Pavillion d’Armide, alongside Vaslav Nijinsky and his sister Bronislava. In Le Festin, a suite of various dances, Tamara and Nijinsky danced a dance called The Firebird. This dance was actually the Bluebird pas de deux from Sleeping Beauty, and had nothing to do with the ballet of the same name.

It seemed to me that the hitherto quietly admiring mood of the public burst into enthusiasm when a pas de trois with Nijinsky, his sister, and myself was about halfway through….an unrehearsed effect took place…Nijinsky should have walked off the stage to reappear in a solo. On that night he chose to leap off. He rose up, a few yards off the wings, described a parabola in the air, and disappeared from sight. No one of the audience could’ve seen him land; to all eyes he floated up and vanished. A storm of applause broke; the orchestra had to stop.
The Ballet Russes Opening Night, Theatre Street, P153-154

Over the season Les Sylphides and Cléopâtre would be given, both European premieres, and both featuring Tamara, the dancers performing on alternate nights with opera bass Feodor Chaliapin. The dancers in the Troupe included Tamara, Aleksey Bulgakov, Sophia Federova, Mikhail Fokine, Vera Karalli, Mikahil Mordkin, Vaslav Nijinsky, Bronislava Nijinska, Anna Pavlova and Ida Rubenstein.

Following that storm of a Paris season, Tamara went to London, to dance at the London Coliseum. There she was gifted a dog, a King Charles Spaniel she named Loulou, and also met, and formed a friendship with, the most prominent British dancer of the era, Adeline Genée, who promoted British ballet when it was at its lowest.

In 1910 she danced again at the Coliseum, then with the Ballet Russes in Paris. This year, Giselle was produced, with Tamara and Nijinsky in the leading roles of Giselle and Albrecht. L’oiseau de feu, or The Firebird, premiered on the 25th June, with Tamara in the titular role. The season was again a success, and she signed a contract with Diaghilev for two more Summer seasons.

At the same time as her Summer successes, she was also dancing at the Mariinsky. In 1910 she was promoted to Prima Ballerina at the Mariinsky. Her contract was an unusual one. While she remained a permanent member of the Troupe, her contract was essentially a guest artist contract. This was to get around a rule regarding pay rises, as Tamara hadn’t been dancing for the required number of seasons to get a pay rise without her contract.

Tamara danced with the Ballet Russes from 1909-1914. They danced in Paris, London, Monte Carlo, Berlin, Vienna, and South America. Over the seasons more and more ballets were produced. She originated the Young Girl in Le Spectre de la Rose (1911), the Ballerina in Petrushka (1911), the title role in Thamar (1912), Chloë in Daphnis and Chloë (1912), the First Young Lady in Jeux (1913), and the Queen of Shemakhan in Le Coq d’Or (1914). Dance historian Cyril W. Beaumont notes in his Complete Book of Ballets that these ballets were highly intertwined with their creators, singling out Tamara as being the best in the majority of her originated roles.

In 1914 World War I, or the Great War, broke out. Tamara was on a train from Berlin to Russia when she got the news. As a result of the declaration, the train was sent back to Berlin. It took her a train to Holland, a boat back to England, and another week of various methods of transport to get back to Saint Petersburg.

The Mariinsky soldiered on throughout the war, with most evenings being sold out. Fokine was back in Russia, as was Bronislava Nijinska, but Diaghilev remained abroad. He continued to send telegrams to Tamara, trying to recruit her back into the Ballet Russes, to no avail.

Every night the public demanded the national anthems. As new allies gradually joined the cause, our intervals became longer. Now a full quarter of an hour would be required to go through the anthems. The frenzied enthusiasm which greeted them at the beginning gradually dwindled with the years as war weariness increased.
The Mariinsky during the war, Theatre Street, P197

Tamara spent the 1910s at the Mariinsky dancing the classics. Aurora in Sleeping Beauty, Nikiya in La Bayadére, the title roles in Paquita and Sylvia, and Lise in La fille mal gardée were amongst the roles she added to her repertoire. Though the Mariinsky was going through a rough patch, Tamara’s artistic qualities grew. Marius Petipa and Mikhail Fokine had different styles of choreography, with Petipa’s being more classical. After excelling in Fokine’s, she managed to prove herself in Petipa’s too.

*Karsavina as Medora in Le Corsaire, 1910s*

1917 brought two revolutions to Russia. The first, the February Revolution, lasted from 23rd February-3rd March [O.S], and resulted in the abdication of Tsar Nicholas II and the very shortly lived Russian Republic. The second and more well known was the October Revolution, on the 25th October [O.S], which brought Vladimir Lenin to power.

Tamara writes that she performed on the 15th May 1918 in La Bayadère, with that being her last performance in Russia. It has been debated whether it was indeed her last performance, but either way, May 1918 brought about an end to her artistic career in Russia

Her husband Henry (more on him later), had left along with the British Embassy in February, returning to come collect her in June. They had problems with passports, but at the last minute, they received a pass, and left Russia.

When we had almost despaired of ever getting out of Russia, my husband was called to the telephone. A woman’s voice told him that a permit to leave would be sent round to him. She rang off quickly, and he never knew who his good fairy was.
Theatre Street, P208

Paris & London (1918-1978)

Tamara, Henry, and their young son Nikita left Saint Petersburg on a cruiser, making it to the capital of Karelia, Petrozavodsk. However they were sent back to Saint Petersburg by the French Ambassador, who was the only foreign representative. On the fifth day of their journey back, they got off, and started travelling through small villages, eventually making it to Murmansk, a port city in the far North-West of Russia. From there, they got spaces on a boat, which, at the end of its journey, docked in Middlesbrough, England. This is where Theatre Street ends, apart from a chapter about Diaghilev.

In 1919 she rejoined the Ballet Russes in Paris, originating roles in Le Tricorne, Pucinella, and Le chant du rossignol. They danced in London in 1919 too, at the Empire Theatre. Amongst the dancers were Tamara, her teacher Enrico Cecchetti and his wife Giuseppina, Lydia Sokolova, Lydia Lopokova (younger sister of Evgenia, who graduated alongside Tamara in 1902), Léonide Massine and Stanislas Idzikowski.

*Karsavina as The Nightingale in Le chant du rossignol, 1920, alongside corps de ballet dancers.*

She also ventured into drama, performing in an one-act play written by Peter Pan author J.M. Barrie. She portrayed the role of Karissima, a Russian ballerina. Her role was an unspoken part, with stage directions being given to Tamara, who used movement and dance to communication with other characters. The play, The Truth About Russian Dancers, premiered on the 15th March 1920 at the London Coliseum, and had a sell out run of approximately a month.

In 1924 she toured to the US, alongside Pierre Vladimirov. They performed at Carnegie Hall in New York, with Tamara doing the choreography herself. However the tour was unsuccessful. Anna Pavlova was also in New York, performing at the Met, and she had an established company, performing works the general public knew. Gennady Smakov states that Tamara and Vladimirov left New York after a week.

Her final appearance with the Ballet Russes came in 1929, in Petrushka. Sergei Diaghilev passed away on the 18th August 1929, and his Ballet Russes would not perform again, although offshoots of the original would trundle on until the late 1960s.

She retired from dance in the early 1930s. Her last performances were with Ballet Rambert. Notably she originated the role of Venus in Mercury, an early ballet by renowned choreographer Frederick Ashton. While she retired from dance, she remained active in the dance world.

In 1920, the Association of Teachers of Operatic Dancing of Great Britain was founded. It aimed to combat the poor standard of British ballet teaching, and at the first dinner which proposed the association, five honoured guests were present. These guests represented the five major schools of ballet:

Phyllis Bedells, representing the British method, was a dancer at the Empire Theatre, London, danced in opera-ballets at Covent Garden, and also in early performances by the Vic-Wells Ballet, now the Royal Ballet.
Adeline Genée, representing the Danish method, was also a dancer at the Empire, before touring America and Oceania. She’d become the first President of the Association.
Lucia Cormani, representing the Italian method, danced across Europe and the Americas, and choreographed for the Alhambra Theatre, London, the Empire’s main rival in the late 19th-early 20th century.
Edouard Espinosa, representing the French method, danced in London and New York, before becoming maître de ballet for theatres in London.
and Tamara Karsavina, representing the Russian method.

The Association gained a royal charter in 1935, and is known today as the Royal Academy of Dance. Tamara was Vice-President from 1930-1955, and in 1955 became the second recipient of the Queen Elizabeth II Coronation Award, award by the RAD annually for contributions to dance.

She also coached one of the most famous dancers in the world, Margot Fonteyn, and assisted Frederick Ashton of The Royal Ballet in revivals of older works. Amongst the ballets she assisted with was Ashton’s revival of Daphnis et Chloë, revived for Fonteyn and Michael Somes in 1951. In 1954, the same dancers lead a revival of L’Oiseau de feu.

*Tamara (right) coaching Margot Fonteyn and Michael Somes in L’Oiseau de feu, c.1954.*

In the 1965 television documentary Tamara Karsavina: Portrait of a Ballerina, Fonteyn speaks about the coaching of L’Oiseau de feu. Meredith Daneham later quotes this in her biography of Fonteyn.

She gives me very much the sense that the role is still living in her and what she’s teaching me is not exactly what she did herself on stage at all- it’s as the role is still in her mind, living and changing the whole time.
Margot speaking about Karsavina, Margot Fonteyn by Meredith Daneman, P304

Ashton created a new production of La fille mal gardée for The Royal Ballet in 1960. She assisted him with this, teaching him mime passages. One significant passage was called When I’m Married, originally choreographed by Marius Petipa in 1885 for his revival of La fille mal gardée starring Virginia Zucchi. She’d later coach Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev, the most famous ballet partnership in the world, in Le Spectre de la Rose.

Tamara passed away at the age of 93 on the 26th May 1978. She died in Beaconsfield, Buckinghamshire, England. She was buried with her husband in Hampstead Cemetery, London, England. The Firebird was revived in 1978, with future Director of the Royal Ballet Monica Mason in the title role. Mason learnt the role from Fonteyn, keeping the spirit of the original alive.

Personal Life

Tamara was known for being an intellectual. Gennady Smakov writes she had a ‘sharp mind, and immense cultural sophistication’. She wrote multiple essays about her life and ballet alongside Theatre Street, enjoyed operas and plays, and was frequently at the Mariinsky even when she wasn’t dancing. In Theatre Street she says more about her friends and colleagues than she does of her romantic relationships.

Her first marriage was in 1907, to civil servant Vasili Vasilievich Mukhin (1880-fl.1941). She doesn’t mention him in Theatre Street although he did travel on her with Ballet Russes tours occasionally. They divorced in 1917 with no issue.

Her second husband, British diplomat Henry James Bruce (1880-1951), pops up out of nowhere, but does get more of a mention. Bruce worked at the British Embassy in Saint Petersburg. He married Tamara in 1918, and they were together until his death in 1951. Their son Nikita was born in 1916, and died in 2002.

Amongst her circle of friends was prima ballerina Mathilde Kschessinskaya. Mathilde was the top ballerina at the turn of the 20th Century, and held a considerable sway over the administration of the Mariinsky. She was the mistress of the future Tsar Nicholas II before his marriage, and also had relationships with two Grand Dukes: Sergei Mikhailovich and Andrei Vladimirovich.

Tamara writes of Mathilde in a complimentary way, saying she showed her kindness from her first season in the Mariinsky. During that first season, Mathilde invited Tamara to stay at her country house (or dacha) in Strelna. She became an protector of Tamara, and kept her promise, making sure the other dancers weren’t bad-mouthing her. Considering that, as Tamara herself put it, ‘jealousy and gossip were at all times busy with her name’, this friendship was unusual, and Tamara seems to have honoured it.

Because of her association with the Imperial Family, Mathilde fled Russia during the revolution. Her house in Saint Petersburg was ransacked and used as a Bolshevik headquarters; luckily she was on holiday in Crimea at the time. Tamara and Mathilde met again in Monte Carlo, in 1922. In 1921 she married Grand Duke Andrei Vladimirovich, who had left Russia in 1920. She was now Princess Mathilde. She had lost a lot of her wealth, however Tamara writes that she was as cheerful as ever. Mathilde would later become a teacher in Paris, giving lessons to Margot Fonteyn and Alicia Markova, among others.

She had continued to practise her dancing even without ballet shoes, and was as delighted as a child when I offered her a pair of mine.
Tamara and Mathilde’s Reunion, Theatre Street, P202-203

From 1905-1907 there was a revolution in Russia, which would lead to the Russian Constitution of 1906, and the establishment of the State Duma. In the Autumn of 1905, the Mariinsky elected 12 delegates as negotiates. As the revolution centred around constitutional reform and lessening the Tsarist autocracy, it only made sense that the theatres, over which the Imperial Family had considerable power, would negotiate for more artistic independence. Tamara, Anna Pavlova, and Mikhail Fokine were among the 12 delegates.

The 12 delegates supported the drama troupe of Alexandrinsky, in Saint Petersburg, who were going on strike in the hopes of reforms. They then tried to stop a matinee at the Mariinsky- a performance of Tchaikovsky’s opera La Dame de pique, or the Queen of Spades. Tamara’s job was to go around the dressing rooms of the female dancers involved in the opera’s dances, and convince them to strike. The majority stayed. The next morning, an ultimatum was delivered to the dancers: sign a declaration of loyalty to the Tsar, or lose their job. The prospect of that must’ve been unnerving, but the worst effect the revolution had on the Mariinsky was yet to come.

Brothers Sergei and Nikolai Legat were dancers, teachers and choreographers- Tamara received coaching from both of them. The pair were also caricaturists, producing a series of caricatures of Mariinsky dancers and staff. Tamara describes Nikolai as the more caustic of the pair, with Sergei being ‘good-natured’ and ‘beloved by all’. Sergei’s friendship with Tamara began on her first morning in the Mariinsky Ballet daily class. When he arrived late she curtseyed to him, which he found amusing, and would mimic in rehearsals.

The group of artists who had refused to sign to declaration of loyalty gathered at the house of Fokine, deliberating on what to do. It was there that they received the news.

The door-bell rang. Fokine went to open. A minute later he staggered back into the room. ‘Sergei has cut his throat’, and broke down sobbing.
Theatre Street, P125

As Tamara tells it, Sergei had felt pressured into signing the petition, and had then felt he’d betrayed his true beliefs. It was an immeasurable loss. He taught two of Tamara’s future partners, Vaslav Nijinsky and Pierre Vladimirov, and had danced a lot of the major roles in the repertoire. While the dancer’s revolt came to be known as just a minor incident, and they were never formally expelled from the troupe, they had lost a treasured friend and colleague.

*Tamara Karsavina as Giselle and Vaslav Nijinsky as Albrecht in the Ballet Russes’ production of Giselle, c.1910.*

Continuing this rather downbeat trend, Tamara devotes a lot of time to her friendship with Vaslav Nijinsky. She notes that they didn’t always get along. When first learning Giselle they were so focused on their interpretation of their own parts that they began disagreeing with each other over who would direct the rehearsals. Diaghilev had to act as a middle-man, but they eventually came around and ended up having a brilliant, if short-lived, partnership.

Nijinsky was a revolutionary dancer, becoming known for his jumps and charismatic stage presence. Two of his ballets, Afternoon of a Faun and The Rite of Spring, were highly controversial upon their premieres. He was dismissed from the Ballet Russes in 1913, upon his marriage to Romola de Pulszky. Both Vaslav and Romola were warned by colleagues that this might not be the best move for them, but on the 10th September 1913 they married. He continued performing, and was allowed to rejoin the Ballet Russes several years later.

In 1919 he was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and institutionalised. His last performance had been in 1917. Tamara recalls meeting Nijinsky over Christmas in 1928. She was performing with the Ballet Russes in Paris, and Diaghilev decided to bring Nijinsky to the theatre to watch.

It was the interval before Petrushka…For one moment I hoped that the familiar situation and myself in the costume…might reclaim the lost thread of remembrance in the mind of Nijinsky….Nijinsky meekly let himself be led to where the photographers had set their cameras. I put my arm through his, and, requested to look straight into the camera, I could not see his movements. I noticed that the photographers were hesitating, and, looking round, I saw that Nijinsky was leaning forward and looking round into my face, but on meeting my eyes he turned his head like a child that wants to hide tears. And that pathetic, shy, helpless movement went through my heart.
Nijinsky, 1928, Theatre Street, P188

The final chapter of Theatre Street focuses on Diaghilev. The original print didn’t have this chapter; she finished writing the book on the day she heard of Diaghilev’s death. This chapter was first written for the revised edition, from 1947.

She speaks of his possessiveness over his dancers, and his aim to have them all under his command. He used to half-jokingly bemoan her for always wanting to go back to the Mariinsky. When she had clashing engagements in Paris and London in 1910, he sent a multitude of telegrams to her, trying to get her to abandon the London performances and come to Paris. Even during a World War she received telegrams. It was this possessiveness that caused Nijinsky’s dismissal in 1913.

In this final chapter, during the Ballet Russes’ London Coliseum season of 1929, Tamara writes of her final reminisces of Diaghilev. At this time he was mortally ill.

I ran to meet him as he walked slowly behind the backcloth, leaning on the cane that he used to whirl round in such a debonair way. Arm-in-arm we came to my dressing room. He leant back in an armchair, huddled and heavy. Gone was all the buoyancy, the particular lazy grace. He said ‘I have left my bed to come and see you. Judge of my love’. But his face was not worried: he talked of Venice and some young composers in who he believed…His ruthlessness belonged to art; his faithful heart was his own.
Diaghilev’s Last Days, Theatre Street, P232

Though Diaghilev was possessive, he also provided his dancers and choreographers room to grow. From The Firebird, to The Rite of Spring, to the Picasso-designed Parade in 1917, the Ballet Russes was a beacon of creativity. A large amount of Ballet Russes productions exist today, though some are reconstructions, proving that these works are hugely important to the development of ballet. And Tamara Platonovna Karsavina played a huge part in that development.