It seems that no other name in the history of ballet has been surrounded by as many stories as the name of Anna Pavlova. She was born on February 12, 1881 in St. Petersburg. Her love for ballet awakened at the age of eight when her mother took her to a performance of Sleeping Beauty at the Mariinsky Theatre. She was unusually delicate in stature, which is why she was not accepted into ballet school when she first appeared at the audition at the age of nine. During the 1890s, the emphasis was on the technical skill of ballerinas, which required them to have strong, muscular bodies. Pavlova, on the other hand, was slim, light, and appeared fragile. Later on, this would become her advantage, as it was almost unbelievable how much strength she had in that fragile body.
When she turned ten, she began learning ballet at the Imperial Ballet School in St. Petersburg. The school was under the patronage of Russian Tsar Alexander III (1845 – 1894) and offered lifelong protection to its students, but in return, it demanded total dedication from them. aletheu, a member of the Mariinsky Theatre, the most famous opera and ballet house in St. Petersburg, becomes one at the age of eighteen, and a few years later (in 1906) a prima ballerina.
Thanks to her talent and hard training, she became the most renowned ballerina of her time. She was the first to use a piece of hard leather in her ballet shoes to make dancing on tiptoes easier, which later became a practice in ballet. She was taught by top teachers such as Marius Petipa, Christian Johansson, Pavel Gerdt, and Enrico Cecchetti. She introduced Russian ballet to the world as the leading member of Sergei Pavlovich Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes in Paris. Despite external engagements, she remained a prima ballerina at the Mariinsky Theatre because she wanted to preserve her independence and loyalty to classical ballet. She performed with the great ballet dancer Mikhail Mordkin at the Metropolitan Opera in New York in 1910. Most of the American audience had not seen classical ballet before, and critics did not know how to describe it. ohs and ahs were heard from the audience, but everyone was enchanted by the performance.
She founded her own troupe in 1913 and traveled with them for years throughout Europe, Asia, America, and Australia. It was truly an adventure and a daunting undertaking at the time. The audiences she danced in front of often didn’t even know what ballet was. She danced in big cities and small towns, awakening a love for ballet in children. During that period, she encountered many folk dances, but the dances of Japan and India impressed her the most. She was able to successfully combine elements of ballet and local dances from around the world, thus contributing to the revival of forgotten dance forms.
She didn’t stand out as much with virtuoso technique as she did with grace and refinement, as well as her gift for creating new characters and figures. She believed that talent comes from God, but that it only turns into genius through persistent hard work. Her artistic genius was a combination of dance, music, and acting. When she read Lord Tennyson’s poem “The Dying Swan,” she was so enthralled by it that she asked choreographer Mikhail Fokine to create a ballet solo for her. This is how the ballet Dying Swan was born, which became her trademark. Pavlova danced it passionately and poetically, stunning the whole world. In this short ballet, the final moments of a swan’s life were portrayed, and it was first performed in 1905, the same year it was created. In an interview with Dance Magazine, choreographer Mikhail Fokine describes the creation of this ballet piece, which, according to him, was mainly improvised.
“I danced in front, and then behind. After that, we switched places, and I corrected her (Anna Pavlova’s, note.) arms and body position. Before this ballet, I was accused of promoting barefoot dancing and rejecting pointe work, and that’s why The Dying Swan was my response. This ballet became a symbol of something new – because of the combination of technique and expressiveness. It is proof that dance can please the eyes, but also penetrate the soul,” explained Fokine.
A French critic. André Levinson described the final scene of the ballet as follows: Crossed hands, the ballerina moves dreamily and slowly on tiptoe across the stage. Her arms seem to reach towards the horizon – but the tension slowly dissipates and she sinks. She weakly waves her arms, as if in pain. Then, trembling, she approaches the edge of the stage with irregular steps, her legs like harp strings. And then – she dies.
Even a short film was made in 1925 featuring Anna Pavlova dancing.
The renowned ballet critic Vadim Gajevski said in an interview with Voice of Russia: She possessed great acting talent. Not just acting, but ballet-drama talent. She could have been featured in all silent films of that time. The fusion of musicality with her genius dramatic gift made her unique. The dying swan is pure music in visible embodiment! People cried when they watched her Giselle madness. She was a great dramatic ballerina!
She became an idol and a legend during her lifetime. Her performances were met with triumphant success. Throughout. Over the course of twenty-two years, she had numerous tours and a total of nine thousand performances.
Outside of the stage, her life was devoid of any drama or scandals. She didn’t have any children, but in 1920, she founded an orphanage for Russian children in Paris. When she wasn’t dancing, she would spend her time at her estate, “Ivy House,” in London surrounded by swans.
She died at the age of forty-nine on January 23, 1931, during a farewell tour in The Hague. The final performance in which she was supposed to participate took place, but the spotlight illuminated an empty spot on the stage where she was supposed to dance… Her last words were, “Prepare my swan costume…”