It is remarkable to realize that the great Russian ballet was created in Russia by great Frenchmen: Charles Didelot began the monumental work, later continued by Jules Perrot, Arthur Saint-Léon (who staged the first ballet based on the plot of the Russian folk tale Konyok-Gorbunok), and, of course, Marius Petipa whose choreography is embedded in almost every ballet that currently comes to mind, from Sleeping Beauty to Raymonda.

But in the 20th century, a reversal took place: it seems that the great Russian ballet, under the influence of Sergei Diaghilev, an impresario and trendsetter, started repaying its artistic debts to Europe by gifting a large number of artists who not only rescued the desperate situation of ballet in Europe but occasionally also became creators of the ballet movement in various countries.

The turbulence of the early 20th century triggered an exodus of ballet talents from Russia. Of course, leaving for nowhere would have been difficult for artists of imperial theatres but travelling abroad for seasonal tours of Diaghilev’s Les Ballets Russes without a return ticket was much easier. Diaghilev’s enterprise lasted exactly 20 years, from 1909 to 1929, and during this time, it featured the best artists of the imperial theatres: some stayed for one or two seasons, others worked loyally for many years. Yet the crucial point is that, after the troupe disbanded, many of them did not lose themselves but directed their strength and talent towards developing ballet art in the countries where fate had cast them.

Private Schools in Paris 

The first half of the 20th century was not the most fortunate time for ballet in Paris. Because competing with the fireworks that Diaghilev produced each season is simply impossible even today. Paris went crazy over Nijinsky, Pavlova, Karsavina, and other artistes. No Paris Opera could attract any attention.

Around the same time, private studios opened in Paris run by former artists of the Imperial Theatres, though not the stars who shone brightly under Diaghilev. One such studio, Wacker Studio, was founded in 1923 by Mariinsky Theatre prima ballerina Olga Preobrazhenskaya. Olga danced in Russia roughly at the same time as Mathilde Kschessinska, who was her rival in the theatre. Amazingly, Matilda Kschessinska would herself also open her own studio in Paris.

Wacker Studio, located at 69 Rue de Douai, was frequented not only by ballet enthusiasts but also by artists of the Paris Opera. The studio became a real Mecca for the dancing world. Among its attendees were Maurice Béjart, Yvette Chauviré (a great étoile of the opera), and Jean Babilée (the original performer of Youth in Roland Petit’s Youth and Death).

Another ballerina from the Imperial Theatres, Lyubov Yegorova, also opened her studio in Paris in 1923. Her studio similarly attracted the entire Parisian dance élite, from Serge Lifar to Zelda Fitzgerald (Preobrazhenskaya’s studio was located in Zelda’s apartment). Descriptions of these lessons can be seen in Zelda’s sole Save Me, Waltz novel.

Both Preobrazhenskaya and Yegorova were strict teachers, occasionally raising their voices, but if they spotted a poor yet talented student, they readily admitted them to class without charge. For French ballet, which had lost its standard at the beginning of the 20th century, both Diaghilev’s arrival and establishment of these studios offered an extraordinary opportunity to refine dance style and enhance technique.

Apart from these studios, there were many others in Paris, and classes held by Madame Roussanne (Ruzanna Sarkissian) were celebrated in the ballets and memoirs of the great French choreographer Maurice Béjart. Classical ballet didn’t come easy to him as his body wasn’t ideally suited for it. Madame Roussanne shouted at him: “Your legs aren’t legs, they’re stuffed zucchinis”, adding: “Work, lazybones”. This “lazybones” greatly annoyed Béjart and drove him to spend hours refining his physique. Once, after a lesson, Madame simply said to him: “Work”. And that was a victory. Overall, Béjart was proud of his Russian training. He learned from Madame Roussanne, Lyubov Yegorova, Olga Pre­obra­zhen­skaya, and later, in London, from Vera Volkova.

Ours in the Opera

The presence of Russian artists left a lasting mark within the walls of the Paris Opera itself. Throughout the 20th century, its ballet company was repeatedly headed by performers from imperial and non-imperial theatres alike. Names include Ivan Clustine and George Skibine but the brightest leaders were undoubtedly Serge Lifar and Rudolf Nureyev.

Serge Lifar joined the opera in the fateful year of 1929, following the death of Sergei Diaghilev. As the Russian Seasons dissolved, artists scattered worldwide without knowing how to survive independently. The management of the Paris Opera promptly tried to engage George Balanchine for one choreographic project and eventually for the role of director of the ballet company. Balanchine began working on The Creation of Prometheus with Serge Lifar in the lead role but, unfortunately, he fell ill and travelled to the Alps for treatment. Consequently, the production passed to Lifar. The Paris Opera presented these new Creations of Prometheus and immediately invited Lifar to head the ballet company.

Lifar was idolized. He seemed to have filled all the country’s ballet space with his presence: he wrote books on the history of ballet, opened a faculty at the Sorbonne which still exists today (where the author of these lines received their dance historian diploma), nurtured a new generation of stars, and generally tackled the task of cleaning up the messy state of ballet affairs with passion. The condition of the company upon his arrival was pitiful: no proper repertoire, no clear soloists. He publicly nominated dancers for the highest position in the troupe, étoiles. To this day, this ceremony at the Paris Opera takes place as Lifar envisioned it: after performing a ballet, the directors of the troupe and theatre come out onto the stage and announce that such-and-such artist has been awarded the status of étoile. This solemn event is always a surprise both for the audience and even for the company members. One never knows which performance will become star-studded (“étoile” translates from French as “star”).

Similarly, Lifar initiated the practice of opening the ballet season with a defile, a parade-like presentation featuring pupils of the opera’s affiliated ballet school followed by the entire company, from corps de ballet to étoiles. Lasting approximately fifteen minutes, the defilé is a majestic spectacle . Yet the ultimate treat awaits the audience, as the mysterious and breathtakingly beautiful dance foyer, otherwise hidden from view, opens exclusively for this occasion. Lifar himself stated that this defilé, or parade, embodies the power and strength of French ballet.

In recent years, conversations within French ballet circles have taken a slightly different turn concerning Lifar, recalling aspects previously deemed inappropriate to discuss. Chief among these are his collaboration with Nazi occupiers of Paris and his aversion toward certain choreographers whom he barred from staging works at the Opera. Rumours persist that even the books attributed to Lifar might have been ghostwritten. Despite these controversies, no one can forget his actual contributions to the opera and French ballet.

Yet another leader of the ballet company, Rudolf Nureyev, continues to inspire profound admiration. Unlike Lifar’s productions, Nureyev’s ballets regularly grace the stage of the Paris Opera, and the gratitude of the French for introducing them to great grand-scale Russian classical ballet performances endures forever. Remarkably, the ballets we know so well: Raymonda, La Bayadère, Swan Lake and others, appeared fully formed in Europe only from the mid-20th century onwards, often in fragmentary forms. Paris knew neither La Bayadère nor Raymonda completely in the 19th century. Nureyev seemingly returned to the French their heritage from their great choreographer Marius Petipa. While editing each returned ballet according to his preferences, he preserved the underlying structure intact.

Birth of Ballet in London

Ballet truly emerged and flourished in England only in the 20th century, despite earlier attempts by John Weaver dating back to the 17th century. The birth of ballet across the English Channel was also facilitated by Diaghilev’s Les Ballets Russes.

Diaghilev’s enterprise performed multiple seasons in London. The London audience was undoubtedly just as stunned by the quality of Russian ballet as were Parisian audiences. Some performances were better received in London. For instance, Nijinsky’s Le Sacre du Printemps premiered amidst scandalous controversy in Paris but was met more calmly in London. Several ensemble members, notably Pavlova and Karsavina, subsequently settled in England.

Tamara Karsavina, a brilliant Russian ballerina, was a star of Diaghilev’s troupe. After retiring from the stage, she turned to teaching and ultimately played a pivotal role in shaping academic English dance. She served as mentor and muse: Ninette de Valois acted as her hands-on executor, guided and inspired by Karsavina. She also mentored Frederick Ashton, Britain’s foremost choreographer of the 20th century. Additionally, she coached Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev in a piece she once performed alongside Vaslav Nijinsky: Le Spectre de la Rose.

Anna Pavlova, another legendary ballerina, was always Karsavina’s rival both in Russia and internationally. Upon leaving her homeland, Pavlova assumed a significant educational mission: she enlightened the world, showcasing classical ballet globally, from India to New Zealand. She toured places where ballet was unknown and lacked dedicated theatres, performing in circus rings or on wooden stages. Legend has it that the famous Pavlova dessert originated either in Australia or New Zealand (these nations remain divided this). The story of its origin recounts that a waitress asked Pavlova which dessert she’d prefer but the prima ballerina replied that she guarded her figure. Subsequently, a confectionery masterpiece, light meringue topped with cream, berries, and kiwi, was crafted specially for her. Today, this dessert sells even in McDonald’s outlets in New Zealand. Educational outreach was central to Pavlova’s legacy: essentially, she introduced the wider public to classical ballet. Interestingly, Frederick Ashton decided to dedicate his life to ballet after witnessing Pavlova perform in Ecuador, his birthplace.

Nikolay Sergeyev is likely unfamiliar to the general public but he did much to enable today’s access to vintage Petipa ballets. Working at the Imperial Theatre, Sergeyev devised a method for recording dances on paper using Vladimir Stepanov’s notation system. Petipa, ironically, found this infuriating: he insisted that capturing ephemeral dance movements was categorically impossible. Nevertheless, Sergeyev persevered, diligently attending all rehearsals and documenting nearly every major Petipa production. During the Revolution, Sergeyev fled Russia to London, where he collaborated with Diaghilev’s troupe. These records proved invaluable: European audiences witnessed, albeit truncated, authentic Petipa creations such as The Sleeping Beauty for the first time. Nowadays, Sergeyev’s collection resides in the Harvard University Library, accessible to researchers and choreographers seeking to reconstruct late 19th-century versions of Petipa’s ballets.

America and the Entire 20th Century

Of course, we must never forget the great George Balanchine, originally known as Georgiy Balanchivadze, the man who established the magnificent New York City Ballet in America. Essentially, he became the founding father of American ballet and the most influential choreographer of the 20th century. His legacy remains active not only in America but globally, from Australia to Russia. It was Balanchine who introduced the tradition of performing The Nutcracker annually around New Year’s Eve, presenting his version in 1954. Indeed, the 20th century is sometimes referred to as George Balanchine’s century, serving as a tribute to the school and heritage of Russian classical ballet.