From the Publisher
Amusing and assertive . . . It distills Diaghilev’s life down to its concentrated, aromatic, essence . . . [Rupert Christiansen] seems to have undergone the task for the sheer love of it, and his delight is infectious.”
—Alexandra Jacobs, The New York Times Book Review
“In the early twentieth century, Sergei Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes revitalized ballet, and the company remained at the forefront of the international avant-garde for decades. In this rich account, Christiansen . . . makes a convincing case for its indelible influence.”
—The New Yorker
“Engrossing, amusingly opinionated and poignant.”
—Lloyd Schwartz, The Wall Street Journal
“Immensely readable and exhaustively researched . . . Delightful . . . [Christiansen] writes about his subject with such descriptive flair and affectionate animation that its very essence leaps off the page.”
—Debra Craine, The Times
“The story of Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes has been told many times before, but no one is able to master it more engagingly than Rupert Christiansen . . . Deft, elegant.”
—Kathryn Hughes, The Guardian
“A deliciously entertaining account of high art, low cunning and one of the most creative episodes in the history of the arts.”
—Louise Levene, Financial Times
“A riveting account of a visionary . . . Written with sympathy and wit, the book is judiciously researched; but, more crucially, it draws on a lifetime of balletomania, giving readers the benefit of exceptional range. It is also a delicious read into the bargain.”
—Bryan Karetnyk, The Spectator
“Bursting with extraordinary characters and anecdotes . . . As glitteringly modern as its subject deserves . . . [Christiansen's] skill is to take his readers back to Paris in 1905 and make them feel not merely that they are witnessing the birth of a new art form, but one that it was imperative to be part of.”
—Anne Sebba, The Telegraph
“Wonderfully graceful . . . Star-studded with melodrama and intense emotion . . . [Diaghilev’s Empire] elegantly leaps through these highs and lows . . . Christiansen’s innovative new book rightly puts Diaghilev on a par with the other impresarios of modernism, and makes a convincing case for this period of ballet to be considered as radical, and as important, as the better-known worlds of art, literature and music.”
—Francesca Peacock, Mail on Sunday
“Rupert Christiansen brings his usual elegant prose, gift for insight and ability to find intriguing detail to a superb study of the impresario, one that involves scandal and sensation as well as artistic excellence.”
—Martin Chilton, The Independent
“Colorful . . . Very hard to put down . . . An extraordinary saga.”
—Michael Church, i News
“In [this] gripping account of Diaghilev’s life and art, Christiansen has given something that will last.”
—Vivien Schweitzer, The American Scholar
“Sublime art leaps from great showmanship in this vibrant chronicle of early 20th-century ballet . . . A stimulating recreation of a cultural watershed.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Christiansen’s vivid chronicle [is] an essential selection for any performing arts collection and a captivating read for balletomanes.”
—Carolyn Mulac, Booklist
“For the curious reader . . . A fascinating cautionary tale for readers with an interest in ballet history and those who enjoy books about visionaries who weather great failures and great successes.”
—Library Journal
“Well-researched [and] full of entertaining stories . . . A comprehensive look at the influence of one of ballet’s most famous companies.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Christiansen condenses dramatic history and backstage farce into this dance bio-history for those who can’t get enough of dance history.”
—Lewis J. Whittington, The Philadelphia Dance Journal
“Rupert Christiansen has produced a spectacular read, one fully (and finally!) deserving of its subject—giddy, kaleidoscopic, rich with quirky detail and strange delight. The pages turn themselves.”
—Simon Morrison, author of Bolshoi Confidential
Kirkus Reviews
2022-08-16
The dance critic for the Spectator recounts a seminal period in the history of ballet.
He was the original Ed Sullivan, a man with “no creative gift of his own” but whose genius was “to spot and gather the necessary talents, to render them effective, and to get results.” Sergei Diaghilev (1872-1929), the son of Russian landed gentry, “a great charmer,” arrived in St. Petersburg at age 18 determined to make his mark. After joining forces with the Nevsky Pickwickians, a “small fraternity of young men of the upper middle class,” Diaghilev formed the Ballets Russes, a troupe of Russian artists who set the standards that made ballet “a crucial piece in the jigsaw of Western culture.” Christiansen, an “incurable balletomane,” takes readers through the 20-year history of the Ballets Russes and the talents behind it: choreographer Alexander Gorsky; dancer Anna Pavlova; and, most notably, Vaslav Nijinsky, who shocked audiences with his “supernatural hovering jump,” was one of Diaghilev’s many male lovers, and whose mental state degenerated to the point that he was confined to a Swiss sanatorium in 1919 and thereafter “alternated between long periods of catatonic docility and episodes of violent self-harm.” Christiansen often notes that many of Diaghilev’s paramours—Nijinsky, “entirely heterosexual” dancer Léonide Massine, composer Igor Markevitch—were not gay, a debatable assertion next to comments such as that set designer Leon Bakst was “secretly cursed with perverse sexual tastes.” This mars an otherwise well-researched work full of entertaining stories, as when Nijinsky, dancing Giselle for the Mariinsky in front of duchesses, forgot “to wear mitigating baggy trunks or a support strap, leaving the bulges of both his genitals and his buttocks exposed.” When the ladies demanded decency, “Nijinsky, never one for a tactful compromise, refused and went on to dance the second act unencumbered.” The Mariinsky fired him.
A comprehensive look at the influence of one of ballet’s most famous companies.
