Imperial Dancer

by Coryne Hall

  Bronislava Nijinska saw Mathilde’s hand behind every plot against her brother and blamed ‘two friends’ of Mathilde for making mischief. A late 1915 issue of The Theatre also indirectly pointed the finger at Kschessinska, ‘the fixed star in the Imperial firmament, [who] wanted Nijinsky to appear with her in one of the ballets of the stereotyped Italian school. He, on the other hand, preferred … Giselle.’20

  Yet it is much more likely that Diaghilev, who wanted his lover Nijinsky to be free to join his own new company, encouraged him to wear the costume, guessing what would follow. Nijinsky was contracted to serve in the Imperial Theatres for five years and during that time would have to rely on leave of absence to dance abroad. His dismissal left him free to join the Ballets Russes de Serge de Diaghilev. Alternatively, the whole thing may have been engineered by Nijinsky himself.

  When Teliakovsky returned from Moscow and learnt that Baron Frederiks had sanctioned Nijinsky’s dismissal without consulting him, he resorted to making guesses in his diary as to why his discharge had been engineered. He recorded the rumour that it was due to Kschessinska’s influence. The chief source of this tittle-tattle was Ludmilla Schollar, the young dancer who had partnered Nijinsky at his graduation. Mathilde allegedly summoned the girl to her dressing room and informed her bluntly that she was not responsible for Nijinsky’s departure and, indeed, that if she was in a position to have people dismissed from the company she would quite naturally have started with the gossip Schollar.21

  The mystery was never solved.

  For her benefit performance Mathilde summoned Nicolai Legat. The programme consisted of the first act of Don Quixote, the second act of Paquita (with a showpiece pas-de-deux for Mathilde and Legat); and the second act of Fiametta, which she said brought back lovely memories. This ballet, in which Cupid (danced by Karsavina) orders Fiametta (Kschessinska) to fascinate a rakish young nobleman who does not believe in love and then cede him nothing, was one of the Tsar’s favourites which he loved to see Mathilde dance.

  Fokine’s Chopiniana was also included in the programme, but on 8 February the St Petersburg Gazette published an interview in which Mathilde attacked Fokine. Denying that she had previously refused to appear in his ballets she said that in her opinion they contained ‘little dancing … the ballerina has little to do’. She told the reporter that she wanted to take part in all the chief strengths of the Imperial Theatres and did not think it possible to leave out Fokine. Chopiniana had beautiful lines and at least gave the ballerina a slight chance to display her technical knowledge. ‘To be able to perform Fokine’s ballets, it is really not necessary to be able to dance,’ she added. Fokine was offended. His ideas were gaining more and more support from Teliakovsky and Kschessinska was causing no end of problems.

  The Tsar, both Empresses and most members of the Imperial family were in the audience on 13 February. Mathilde designed a souvenir programme with her photograph on the first page (a novelty at that time) and, inside, a list of all the ballets in which she had danced and all the artists who had participated. ‘The performance was really very beautiful,’ Nicholas wrote in his diary.22 After Fiametta Mathilde chose Karsavina to lead her on for the curtain calls. ‘I felt both touched and honoured,’ Karsavina recalled some sixty-five years later.23

  During the first interval the Director presented Mathilde with the Emperor’s present – an outstretched diamond eagle on a platinum chain, from which was suspended a rose sapphire set in diamonds. Sergei then said that the Emperor had requested that she appear on stage wearing the jewel. This was an Imperial command that Mathilde was only too happy to obey and she wore it to dance Paquita. The performance of Chopiniana merited no mention in Mathilde’s memoirs. It did not receive a good reception from the critics.

  During the second interval artists from all branches of the Imperial theatres paid tribute. The presents Mathilde received that evening were truly magnificent. From Andrei there was a diamond diadem with six cabochon sapphires (a more valuable copy by Fabergé of the gilt diadem Prince Schervashidze had designed for Pharaoh’s Daughter). A few months earlier Mathilde had a new wig made with a centre parting which she wore with the bandeau. The hairstyle pleased her so much that she adopted it for everyday wear.

  From Sergei there was a very valuable gift – a mahogany chest in a gold mounting, containing yellow diamonds of all different sizes which were eventually made up into a corsage ornament by Fabergé. Other gifts bought from Fabergé by admirers included an elephant made from pink rhodonite with ruby eyes, and an enamel powder case on a gold frame. The subscribers collected £1,000 to buy a green malachite Louis XVI table with a silver rim, a full tea service, a diamond watch on a diamond and platinum chain, and some gold cups. From the Moscow balletomanes there was a silver vase standing on a Louis XV mirror in a silver frame. In the mirror could be seen the names of all the donors engraved on the bottom of the vase. There were enough bouquets on the stage to fill a garden.

  A few days later the St Petersburg balletomanes invited Mathilde to a lavish dinner at Cubat’s. Mathilde preserved the photographs taken that night with the participants’ names written underneath. Almire Cubat had once been the Tsar’s cook and his restaurant was a favourite of Mathilde, who spent thousands of roubles when she threw parties there.

  That season Andrei often entertained the leading artists of the theatre at his palace. Younger members of the Imperial family were sometimes present and often the dancing went on until dawn. At one of these parties Mathilde met Grand Duke Dimitri Pavlovich, nineteen-year-old son of Grand Duke Paul. ‘Young, handsome, charming’, a great favourite of the Tsar who treated him like a second son, Dimitri was at that time an officer in the Horse Guards.24 Dimitri virtually lived with the Tsar and Tsarina in the years before the First World War and was considered a possible husband for their eldest daughter Olga.

  At the end of February Victor Dandré was arrested and on 6 April the Atlanta Journal in the United States reported: ‘In some mysterious way some favourite at the palace – oh, a lady, of course, and a jealous one – got word to America that Anna [Pavlova], who has been dancing over here, had received a big share of the small fortune which a certain M. Dandré is accused of having looted from the Russian treasury.’

  According to Pavlova, ‘It was some jealous old cat who started the story.’ It is hard to resist the conclusion that Pavlova meant Kschessinska. By the autumn Pavlova had paid Dandré’s bail and he slipped quietly out of Russia. According to gossip among Pavlova’s company, Dandré’s arrest was connected with ‘the misuse of a Grand Duchess’s milk fund’.25

  In the spring Mathilde and Andrei left for Monte Carlo.

  In the summer of 1911 London was the place to be. The coronation of King George V and Queen Mary was to take place in June and Diaghilev’s company, billed as the Imperial Russian Ballet, would be arriving on 19 June to dance in a gala performance at Covent Garden. The streets were decorated with flags, bunting and portraits of the King and Queen. A new stage was laid down at the Royal Opera House, a magnificent pair of heavy gold plush curtains, embroidered with the royal monogram, were hung and plush red replaced the former green carpet and interior decoration of the private boxes. Among the royalty in London for the coronation were the Tsar’s brother Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich and Mathilde’s old admirer Prince Chakrabongse of Siam.

  Also in London was Anna Pavlova, scoring a tremendous success with Michael Mordkin at the Palace Theatre. The couple had recently quarrelled and Pavlova allegedly slapped his face on stage. The Tsar adored Pavlova. He sent her an inscribed gold medal with his portrait, pleased that she was showing the Russian ballet to so many other countries.

  On Monday 30 May/12 June it was suddenly announced that Pavlova had been taken ill while dancing and would not be able to continue. She was due to appear on 13 and 14 June and the theatre management were thrown into a panic. The capital was seething with visitors and there were plenty of rival attractions. That evening the manager, Alfred Butt, se
nt a telegram to Kschessinska in Monte Carlo.

  Within hours Mathilde was on a train bound for London. Despite heavy bookings, by the time she arrived a river suite had been made available at the Savoy Hotel. No doubt the name of Grand Duke Andrei quite literally opened many doors. Mathilde immediately threw a lavish reception for all the society ladies she had met in St Petersburg, announcing in French that she had ‘come over from Russia to dance with Mordkin at the Palace during Pavlova’s indisposition’. As the visit had been arranged at rather short notice, she could only remain in the capital for two weeks. Mathilde made no secret of her wish to make her mark on London, where she was so far unknown.26

  Maybe Mathilde did not realise that the Palace Theatre was in fact a music hall. Bronislava Nijinska recalled her own distress at seeing Pavlova ‘following acts by magicians, clowns and acrobats … how could one watch the incomparable Pavlova in a music hall?’ she wondered. ‘Why was Pavlova here?’27 Although there were at least four classical ballerinas appearing in London music halls at that time, it is hard to imagine Mathilde in this setting. Perhaps she was misled by the name of the theatre.

  British newspapers speculated that Mathilde, ‘Russia’s greatest dancer’, and ‘a great favourite of the Tsar’, would shortly be performing with Michael Mordkin before British royalty although, they added, she was currently in England ‘for her own amusement’. Only Mordkin, Mathilde told them, had been able to persuade her to travel to England and she had refused all offers to dance in London by herself.28 As soon as Pavlova learnt of Mathilde’s arrival she made a rapid recovery and by Tuesday night was on her way back to the Palace Theatre.

  On Wednesday The Times theatre column announced that Pavlova had recovered and would be appearing ‘at the matinees today and tomorrow with Mr Mordkin’. Meanwhile, the Daily Sketch ran the story of ‘Mordkin’s New Partner’ Mme Kjanski [sic] on Thursday morning.29 With Pavlova back in action Mathilde had no choice but to retreat.

  Mordkin had already accepted an invitation to dance (with Kschessinska) at Baron Henri de Rothschild’s house, but Mathilde said she had to hurry home and could not take part in this performance. By the time the Tatler published a photograph of Mathilde (which the ballerina had given them the previous week) on the cover of their Coronation Issue, she had slipped quietly out of London.

  Mathilde passed this incident off by saying that Mordkin came to Monte Carlo in the spring and asked her to dance with him in London during the summer season because he had quarrelled with Pavlova. She did not give a definite answer, but went to London, where she learnt that the invitation came from Mordkin and not the theatre management. She therefore declined, feeling it would be wrong to take Pavlova’s place.

  Mordkin had been negotiating with the American impresario Max Rabinoff about a season in New York. Pavlova was hesitating and in preliminary announcements for the engagements two names were mentioned – Ekaterina Geltzer and Mathilde Kschessinska. Maybe this was the invitation which came from Mordkin.

  That was the end of a rather confusing episode.

  Deprived of her expected triumph in London, Mathilde prepared to dance at Krasnoe Selo. Princess Stephanie Dolgoruky said that during the interval before Mathilde’s appearance the Tsar left his box and sat near the gangway ‘in the front row of the stalls, to avoid being closely watched’. On his left sat Grand Dukes Sergei and Andrei. After Mathilde and her brother had danced a ‘suggestive mazurka’, she curtseyed deeply to the Tsar ‘amidst thunderous applause’ and with an interrogative look asked if they should give an encore. The Tsar nodded his approval and they repeated the number ‘with greater animation than before’.30

  At another performance in the camp Mathilde performed a Russian dance in folk costume partnered by two cavaliers, receiving a resounding welcome from the audience of soldiers. As the Tsar left the theatre he looked up at Mathilde’s dressing-room window as he had done twenty years before.

  ‘Bravo, Malechka! Bravo!’ called out her old friend Ivan Orlov. ‘Such a triumph in front of His Majesty!’31

  Mathilde always celebrated her birthday at Strelna amid brilliant festivities. In 1911 she announced that Pavlova, Preobrajenska, and she would take part in a gala performance, followed by supper at Felicien (a restaurant on the edge of the water near Yelagin Island in St Petersburg). Nadejda Bakerkina would sell champagne. The evening would conclude with a firework display and a special train would take the guests back to St Petersburg.

  At the last moment all Mathilde’s carefully laid plans nearly fell through when the Tsar gave a gala dinner at Peterhof for King Peter of Serbia, whose daughter Elena was about to marry Prince Ioann Constantinovich. All the Grand Dukes, as well as Ioann’s brother Prince Gabriel, were obliged to attend. Afterwards they all hurried over to Strelna for the gala performance.

  In fact it was a parody. Baron Gotsch imitated Mathilde’s Russian dance and later impersonated Olga Preobrajenska; Misha Alexandrov mimicked Anna Pavlova in Giselle, complete with tutu; while Mathilde, disguised as Nadejda Bakerkina, sold the champagne. Afterwards the guests went to ‘Felicien’ (in this case the jetty by the sea at Strelna) for supper, which was followed by fireworks and the promised special train.

  During 1911 Mathilde petitioned the Tsar for the status of her son to be regularised. By a ukaze [order] of the Tsar dated 15 October 1911 the rank of a hereditary Russian nobleman was granted to ‘Vladimir Sergeievich Krasinsky, born 18 June 1902, of the Orthodox confession’. This ukaze was not made public.32

  Vova was spoilt by his mother and doted on by his two putative fathers. When he was small Mathilde took him everywhere. ‘Rehearsals were abruptly halted by his shrill voice commanding, “Mamma! Vova wants a kiss!” Not another step did Kschessinska dance until Vova had been kissed.’33 As he grew older he was left mainly in the care of an English governess Miss Mitchell and his tutors Richard Vissotzky, the French tutor Franz Scherdlin and the Russian tutor George Pflüger. Vova often complained about Mathilde’s long absences at rehearsals and it was Sergei who watched over the young boy in her absence.

  In 1911, at a time when children worked for fifteen hours a day in St Petersburg’s factories, a small lodge was built for Vova at Strelna. It had a drawing room, dining-room and two bedrooms, and was completely furnished right down to the china, linen and silver. (Mathilde was no different from other aristocrats in her disregard for the workers’ plight.) Mathilde said that she used one season’s salary to build the lodge but it seems more likely that the money came from a Grand Ducal purse. Vova was most put out to find there was no bathroom and was not satisfied when told that he could easily run next door to the dacha. Mathilde had to promise to make up the deficiency the following year.

  It has been claimed recently that Vova was not Mathilde’s only child and that she had a baby in the summer of 1911 at the age of thirty-nine.

  According to an article in a Russian newspaper, during the autumn of 1910 (a period which is admittedly blank in Mathilde’s memoirs) she was resting at Strelna while the Tsar was staying at the Constantine Palace next door – without his family. During the spring and summer of 1911 Mathilde then disappeared from society, staying on the estate of the Sevenards (relatives of Sima Astafieva) in Tver province, only returning to the capital in July.

  In June Joseph and his young wife Celina supposedly joined Mathilde at the Sevenards’ estate. Joseph had just returned from a visit to Switzerland, where his son Slava was staying for his health accompanied by a tutor. Slava was studying to go into farming. He spoke Russian, French, German and, in later life, English. Joseph never really came to terms with the separation from his eldest child, for whom his heart often ached. When Joseph and Celina returned to St Petersburg in November they took with them their infant daughter, also called Celina, whose birth certificate stated she was born in October. Local people later ‘recalled’ seeing Joseph’s wife with a small child during the summer.34

  The inference of the article is that little Celina was really the daughte
r of Mathilde and Nicholas II. The whole claim revolves around Mathilde’s excessive fondness for her niece Celina whom she treated exactly the same as Vova, and Celina’s later talent as a dancer – hardly surprising for a member of the Kschessinsky family.

  This claim does not withstand scrutiny. The child would have been conceived in the autumn of 1910. During this period Nicholas and his family were in Germany so that Alexandra could take the cure at Bad Neuheim. They stayed with her brother the Grand Duke of Hesse at nearby Schloss Friedberg from 17/30 August until 11/24 October. The visit is well documented. In October they transferred to Wolfsgarten, the Grand Duke’s property near Darmstadt, where they remained until their return to Russia on 1/14 November. During this period Nicholas only left his family once – for a three-day courtesy visit to Kaiser Wilhelm II at Potsdam. One of the Empress’s ladies said that the Tsar found this stay abroad ‘rather trying’ and was glad to return to Russia.35

  In the spring of 1911 Mathilde was in Monte Carlo, a stay broken by the hurried visit to London at the end of May [OS]. According to her memoirs she then performed at Krasnoe Selo (before the Tsar) during the summer season, celebrated her birthday at Strelna and was in London again with Diaghilev’s company towards the end of October [OS].

  Little Celina was almost constantly at Strelna when Mathilde was there – but that does not make her Mathilde’s daughter.

  Ten

  ‘THE WEALTHIEST WOMAN ON THE STAGE’

  In 1911 Kschessinska and Diaghilev were reconciled at the home of General Bezobrazov. Each needed the other. Mathilde was attracted by the possibility of again acquiring Nijinsky as a partner, and had already been making ‘strategic moves’ in Diaghilev’s direction.1 Despite her age Kschessinska was still an excellent dancer, and would bring Diaghilev prestige and money. Her friendship would be a great help when he was forming his company for the new season, as she would attract other prominent dancers. Diaghilev never seemed to have much money and Mathilde was known never to spare any expense for performances in which she was involved. She had already turned down an offer from Victor Dandré to arrange a reconciliation with Diaghilev in return for her help over a lawsuit. Mathilde needed to add London to her list of conquests, especially after the recent successes of Karsavina and Pavlova, whom she knew were to be part of the next London season. If she could not beat Diaghilev, then the only option was to join him.