by Coryne Hall
To the memory of my parents Peggy and Ernie Bawcombe; and to the memory of Theo Aronson, whose books were such an inspiration.
CONTENTS
Dedication
Title Page
Foreword by Natalia Makarova
Acknowledgements
Author’s Note
Introduction: Myth or Reality?
1 Glory and Adornment
2 ‘Madly … in Love with Little K’
3 ‘I Am under Her Spell’
4 Dear Strelna
5 ‘Magnificent Matilda’
6 Ménage à Trois
7 ‘Retirement’ from the Stage
8 ‘Danced Your Way to a Palace’
9 ‘The Black-eyed She-Devil of the Ballet’
10 ‘The Wealthiest Woman on the Stage’
11 ‘The Bird has Flown!’
12 ‘That Tsarist Concubine’
13 Flight from the Bolsheviks
14 ‘Madame 17’
15 The Queen of Russian Ballet
16 Struggle for Survival
17 The End of the Fairytale
18 The Final Curtain
Postscript
Genealogical Tables
Notes
Bibliography
Copyright
FOREWORD
It has been said that Mathilde Kschessinska ‘loved ballet in general and life in particular’. On the contrary: she loved ballet in particular and life in general. She certainly led an exciting life. It was an era of true glamour in Russia among the elite. Through her royal liaisons first with Tsarevich Nicholas and later with other members of the Romanov family, Kschessinska secured her position as the reigning Prima Ballerina assoluta of the Maryinsky Theatre. The best of her success as a woman was her charm, femininity and inexhaustible sense of flirtation whether with men or an audience. This quality combined with her determination and the incredible energy that she put into her training to achieve her virtuoso technique justified her ballerina status. She was considered to be ‘a terre-à-terre dancer, without much elevation, but quick in movement, dazzling in her pirouettes and bubbling over with smiles and charm. She once danced thirty-two fouettés and after a storm of applause, sweetly danced thirty-two more.’ Kschessinska’s life still fascinates people because in our modern time there is a lack of that kind of elegance, grandeur and particularly the mystique of glamour.
Mathilde was a unique figure not only in ballet, but in Russian history as well. Even at an early age, her outgoing personality made an impression on royalty. As a student she was described as ‘small, pretty, vivacious and self-confident’. After her graduation performance from the Imperial school, Emperor Alexander, who was in attendance with his family including Tsarevich Nicholas, summoned her. As she curtseyed to the Emperor, he proclaimed ‘Be the glory and adornment of our ballet.’ Indeed that is what she became.
In my time at the Vaganova Ballet School, during the Soviet period, little was said about the legendary Kschessinska. Her affiliations with the Romanovs and her extravagant lifestyle were a taboo subject. We heard the stories that Diaghilev once created a blue costume for her to match her sapphires, but that seemed unimaginable. Our school library had photos of Spessivsteva, Pavlova and Karsavina but I don’t remember any pictures of Kschessinska. Who would think that in later years that I would choose to stay in the West and my photos would be taken off the walls of the Vaganova School and my name, too, removed from the history books? When I returned to the Soviet Union after nineteen years of exile to perform once again at the Maryinsky Theatre, I was presented on stage with a wonderful statuette of Kschessinska in her Esmeralda costume with a replica of her pet goat. (Esmeralda was one of her most famous roles and she used to bring her goat on stage in the performance.)
I have often been asked whether Kschessinska left me a crown that Nicholas II had given her. I wonder how these rumours begin. It seems there are not many people left in the ballet world that have met Mathilde Felixovna Kschessinska. I was lucky enough to have spent time with her. Either that means I am of a certain age or I was very young when I met her. (I was very young, of course.) It certainly was a memorable occasion for me when Serge Lifar took me to see her. Hopefully you will continue to read this comprehensive biography of Kschessinska’s fascinating life and you will get to p. 300 where I describe our dinner together. I would like to add that at the end of the evening, as I was leaving, she tried to curtsey. A bit tipsy, she almost lost her balance. But she quickly regained her composure. Gracious, looking pretty with pearls around her forehead, her eyes still sparkling and mischievous, even in her nineties, she bade me farewell.
I do not believe that Kschessinska’s success was only based on her love of power and diamonds. Yes, she could be irresistible to those she wished to please, but it didn’t just come from charm. She had virtuosity, technique, artistry and great magnetism. In retrospect, when a person has everything and suddenly they are left with nothing (as after the Revolution) it is their will to survive that keeps them going. Mathilde Kschessinska had such a strong will. She decided to enjoy her life regardless of the circumstances and she survived with dignity. In her youth she said to her father ‘I want to experience all the happiness I am allowed’ – and she did.
Natalia Makarova
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are several people who were involved in this project at the outset and it is fair to say that without their help during the initial stages the book would probably never have been written.
First of all, my thanks to Dr Stephen de Angelis, for invaluable research materials, photographs, and help with the diary entries of Nicholas II; Senta Driver, for assistance with the American archives and who undertook all the research in the Harvard Theatre Collection; Natalia Stewart who, in between her job at the Royal Opera House, translated all the Russian letters as well as providing comments and explanations; Dr Zinaida Peregudova of the State Archives of the Russian Federation for providing, and permitting me to quote from, unpublished material; Beryl Morina, Chief Examiner, Classical Ballet (Russian Method Branch), NATD, for her personal recollections of Mathilde; Barbara Gregory, for permission to quote from the works of John Gregory, whose book Nicholas Legat, Heritage of a Ballet Master (Dance Books, 1978) remains the standard work; Professor Tim Scholl, for generously allowing me to quote from his AATSEEL Conference Paper based on his own archival research into Kschessinska’s early diaries and memoirs; Katrina Warne for the loan of Russian books; and Paul Kulikovsky, who gave me the video which finally convinced me to write the book.
I was privileged to spend two days in the home of the late Lady Menuhin, going through the Kschessinska letters in the Menuhin archives. I would like to express my gratitude to the heirs of Lady Menuhin for allowing me to see these letters, and to Susanne Baumgarten of the Menuhin archives for facilitating this. Unfortunately, the letters were sold at auction before the book was completed and it has not been possible to make contact with the new owner(s). I have therefore used information from the letters without quoting from the text.
To my great regret, and despite the best efforts of several people in Spain, no reply was received to my request for access to the archives held by Grand Duke Andrei’s family.
Nevertheless, this book would not have been possible without the help of a large number of people and I would like to express my thanks to everyone listed below. Others have asked to remain anonymous and in respecting their wishes my gratitude is no less great.
In Britain: Leonard Bartle, the National Arts Education Archive; Eunice Biedryski Bartell, President, The Russian Ballet Society; Mary Clarke, editor, The Dancing Times; Joy and Graeme Cruickshank, Theatre Information Group/Society for Dance Research; Richard Davis, Archivist, The Brotherton Library, Leed
s University; Diana de Courcy-Ireland; Express Newspapers; Nigel Grant, Dance Teachers On-line; Jonathan Gray and the staff of the Theatre Museum; Paul Grove; Jane Jackson and the staff of the Royal Opera House Archives; Chris Jones, National Resource Centre for Dance; Sonja Kielty; Ian Lilburn; Nesta MacDonald; Natalia Makarova; Lady Rose McLaren; Mikhail Messerer, Company Guest Ballet Teacher, The Royal Ballet; Ann Morrow; James Munson; Bridget Paine and the staff of Bordon Library; Portsmouth Library; Carol Relf; Ian Shapiro, Argyll-Etkin Ltd; Roger Short; Karen Stringer; The London Library; Richard Thornton; Dawn Tudor; Moya Vahey, Chairman, The Legat Foundation; John Van der Kiste; Hugo Vickers; Mollie Whittaker-Axon; John Wimbles; Sue and Mike Woolmans; Marion Wynn; Charlotte Zeepvat; and Frank Taylor of Interworld for his forbearance.
In Denmark: Anne Dyhr, Det Kongelige Bibliotek; Anna Lerche von Lowzow and Marcus Mandal, Nordisk Film TV; Ove Mogensen; Stig Nielsen.
In Finland: Ragnar Backström; Jorma and Païvi Tuomi-Nikula.
In France: Jacques Ferrand; Mme Ivanov; Elisabeth Roussel; Marina von Isenberg.
In Germany: Professor Dr Eckhard G. Franz, Hessisches Staatsarkiv, Darmstadt.
In Norway: Trond Norén Isaksen.
In Russia: Olga Barkovets; Zoia Belyakova; Elizabeth Kulazhenkova; Linda Predovsky; Elena Yablochkina.
In Spain: The Archives of the Fundación Infantes Duques de Montpensier; Ricardo Mateos Sainz de Medrano; HRH Princess Beatrice of Orleans-Borbòn; HH Prince Michel Romanoff; José Luis Sampedro.
In Sweden: Tove Henningson; Pamela Moberg; Ted Rosvall.
In Switzerland: The Bibliotek St Moritz; Dominique Nicolas Godat, The Kulm Hotel, St Moritz; HH Prince Nicholas Romanov; Karen Roth-Nicholls.
In the United States of America: Mark Andersen; Arturo Beéche, Eurohistory.com; Ronald Bulatoff, The Hoover Institution Archives; Marlene A. Eilers-Koenig; Georgia Hiden; Greg King; Peter Kurth; David McIntosh; Madeleine Nicols (Curator) and Charles Perrier, The New York Public Library Dance Division; Krista Sigler; Stephen Stephanou; Nancy Tryon; Frederic Woodbridge Wilson (Curator), Irina Klyagin and Kathleen Coleman, The Harvard Theatre Collection.
Finally, thanks to my editors at Sutton Publishing, Jaqueline Mitchell and Anne Bennett, for all their hard work in seeing through this book from planning to completion.
Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders. We will be happy to correct any errors and make suitable acknowledgement in a future edition. All efforts to trace the copyright holder of Dancing in Petersburg: the Memoirs of Kschessinska by Princess Romanovsky-Krasinsky (translated by Arnold Haskell and published by Victor Gollancz in 1960) have proved unsuccessful. Dancing in Petersburg was reprinted by Royalty Digest in 1999 and extracts are quoted here by kind permission of Paul P.B. Minet.
Photographs from the Legat Foundation Collection are reproduced by kind permission of the National Arts Education Archive, University of Leeds, Bretton Hall Campus, West Bretton, Wakefield.
My special thanks to Dr William Lee, Prince David Chavchavadze, and the Estate of the late Paul Ilyinsky for permission to quote from the diaries of Grand Duke Dimitri Pavlovich. Prince David and Dr Lee not only translated the entries for the paperback edition of this book but provided many helpful comments and explanations.
Last, but by no means least, thanks to my husband Colin, who for the past three years has lived with the Romanovs and the Imperial Ballet. He has sat through several re-stagings of Mathilde’s ballets at Covent Garden, endured many more hours on video, coped with a multitude of currency conversions and read numerous drafts of the text. He had faith in the project from the beginning and without his comments, support and encouragement it would never have been completed.
Author’s Note
Russians used the Old Style Julian Calendar until 1 February 1918. This was twelve days behind the West in the nineteenth century and thirteen days behind in the twentieth century. I have used the OS Julian Calendar until 1 February 1918 unless otherwise indicated, and the NS Gregorian Calendar thereafter.
The Russian Orthodox Christmas was celebrated in January and even in emigration Mathilde adhered to this custom, often observing the Catholic Christmas in December as well.
I have used the spelling of Russian names most familiar to English-speaking readers. To avoid confusion between Mathilde’s mother and sister, both called Julia, I have referred to her sister as Julie throughout. In Russia Mathilde was known as Matilda. I have used the name she was known by during the emigration and under which she wrote her memoirs – Mathilde Kschessinska.
The titles Emperor, Empress, Tsar and Tsarina are all correct and are used interchangeably. The eldest son of the Tsar was the Tsarevich, other sons were Grand Dukes. Daughters were Grand Duchesses. From 1886 the title of Grand Duke/Duchess was limited to the sovereign’s children and grandchildren in the male line only; great-grandchildren of the sovereign were Prince or Princess.
Russians have three names – their Christian name, patronymic (their father’s name) and their surname. Mathilde was therefore Matilda Felixovna Kschessinska. Alexander III’s daughters were Xenia and Olga Alexandrovna; their brothers were Nicholas, George and Michael Alexandrovich. Nicholas II’s eldest daughter was Olga Nicolaievna. The surname Romanov was hardly used at all.
Until 1917 the exchange rate remained stable at 10 roubles to £1. Between 1917 and 1919 the exchange rate was roughly 15 roubles to £1.
Introduction
MYTH OR REALITY?
In December 1971 an old woman lay dying in the 16th Arrondissement of Paris. As a young girl she had enjoyed romantic troika rides, and passionate nights, with the future Tsar Nicholas II. She partnered the great Vaslav Nijinsky on the stage, notably at Covent Garden in 1911, amassed great wealth and became a force to be reckoned with in the Imperial Theatres. After the revolution the Bolsheviks requisitioned her mansion and Lenin made speeches from the balcony. Forced to flee, she left almost everything behind – except her instinct for survival. Now, just eight months short of her 100th birthday, Mathilde Felixovna Kschessinska, Princess Romanovsky-Krasinsky, was one of the last links with Tsar Nicholas II and the Imperial court of Russia.
So many myths have been published about Mathilde Kschessinska that she has become the stuff of legend. It is said that Nicholas II built her a magnificent house in St Petersburg, connected by a secret passage to the Winter Palace across the river to enable him to visit unnoticed. Her jewels, worth millions of roubles (presents from the Grand Dukes, which she flaunted on stage even when dancing the beggar woman in Paquita) were lost on the gaming tables of Monte Carlo; the window latches on her mansion were reputedly made of gold and ordered from Paris; and her country dacha had its own private electricity supply. More recently, it has been claimed that a hoard of Romanov treasure, gifts from the Tsar, lies buried under her former St Petersburg home (now the Museum of Russian Political History). Only some of these statements are true, but the fact that they have been written at all shows the continuing fascination with the life of Mathilde Kschessinska.
Pictures of Kschessinska convey little of this vivacious personality. The long exposure time required for photographs, which even as late as 1910 forced Mathilde to hold poses for several minutes, gives a lifeless quality to pictures of her dancing. She was not a beauty, yet everyone agrees that she had a magnetic stage presence. According to contemporaries she was tiny, with a sturdy frame and muscular, almost athletic legs. Kschessinska’s fascination lies in her spiciness, flirtatious nature and the air of scandal with which she was almost always surrounded. She adored roulette, diamonds, caviar, pineapples and oysters. Above all, Mathilde loved life and loved to flirt, even in old age. ‘She loved ballet in particular and life in general,’ said a former Moscow ballerina.1
Mathilde staged her whole life like a gala performance, in which she was always the star. She loved parties, masquerade balls, entertaining and, of course, the privileges of wealth. Intelligent, dynamic and strong-willed, Mathilde knew what she wanted and how to get it. Fro
m an early age she was almost obsessed by the Imperial family and was determined to become associated with them by any means possible. Her memoirs are a fantasy, in which she triumphs in every ballet and overcomes every petty intrigue (spun, of course, out of envy!) with the help of the Tsar. She claims to be everybody’s friend (especially Diaghilev and Fokine) and the fairy godmother of rising ballet stars such as Pavlova, Karsavina and Nijinsky. The list of diamonds, rubies and emeralds is rivalled only by the enthusiastic reviews of her performances, which she quotes in full. Even these are not what they seem – most critics flattered Mathilde out of fear, because of her powerful connections.
When Kschessinska published her autobiography in the 1960s she became famous to a new generation as the mistress of the future Nicholas II and now appears in almost every book on the last Imperial family – but the real story lies in what Mathilde did not say. The memoirs were Mathilde’s revenge against a world which had destroyed her opulent lifestyle.
‘She was the Maryinsky’s Prima Ballerina until 1917, and nobody has written her biography.’ These words, spoken by the art historian Eiba Norkute in a 1995 documentary,2 finally convinced me that I had to fulfil my long-held ambition to write about Mathilde Kschessinska.
My interest in Kschessinska was inspired by my own ballet training and my absorption with Russia, the country where my great-grandmother, although of English parentage, was born. Above all it was inspired by the personality of Mathilde, a born survivor with inexhaustible energy. Yet sorting fact from fiction has been no easy task. What was she – an innocent victim of a love doomed to have no happy ending, or a scheming virago determined to enrich herself at every opportunity, no matter who she trampled on along the way? And who was the father of her son? These are just some of the many intriguing mysteries about Mathilde’s life. In many respects the answers are not necessarily black or white; readers will have to draw their own conclusions as there is no definite proof available.