Mrs. Aria

OF DANCING DRESSES, EUROPEAN AND ORIENTAL, ANCIENT AND MODERN

Sympathy between Church and Stage is of no novel date. The relationship between the two has been close and intimate since the days when no religious festival was complete without its chorus of dancers, and the officiating priests took part in the tripping until the introduction, in the Middle Ages, of such profanities as the Dance of Death and the Dance of the Angels, common in Italy, Spain, and France, caused the practice to fall into disrepute.

Possibly the present time sees the Terpsichorean art at its lowest ebb. Nevertheless, a promising sign of reviving interest is that modern scientists, following the example of the old Greek philosophers, are emerging as champions of the lightsome measure. Still, it is doubtful whether it will ever again attain the respect it reached in ancient Greece; and it were mere optimism to hope that we may yet witness Members of Parliament dancing to their seats in the House of Commons, our judges pirouetting solemnly towards the bench, and our admirals and generals inculcating a spirit of patriotism by dances devised to inspire heroic sentiments and an exalted idea of military duty.

The ballet, an invention of the priesthood of Egypt, was inaugurated in connection with certain sacred festivals, notably those dedicated to the bull Apis, and it formed an important feature of the initiatory rites into the mysteries of Isis. It was mystic rather than sensuous, and the aim of its composer was to suggest the hidden things of the cult, the course of the heavenly bodies, and the harmony of the universe. The astronomical dance was far from being the only one practised. At Memphis and Thebes the priests danced round the bull Apis; the figures in turn depicting the miraculous birth of the god, the incidents of his childhood, and his union with Isis. Finally, on the occasion of his death, his obsequies were celebrated with dances of appropriate solemnity. But, alas! these capers were not concerned with clothes, for the performers were unhampered by sartorial considerations, and the toilet of a female dancer consisted of a narrow metal girdle about the hips, the deep circular collar peculiar to the race, and a tambourine. Occasionally these items were supplemented by a transparent robe of the finest white muslin, and the arrangement of the hair, or wig, was always elaborate. Framing the face, it rested on either shoulder in a dense mass of plaits, the back hanging in a straight line of thick braids just below the nape of the neck, while a gleaming metal fillet flashed low on the forehead. Male dancers contented themselves with serried skirts, in which they twirled with extended arms, much after the manner of dervishes.

AN EGYPTIAN DANCER.

Descendants of these ancient ballerinas are to be found in Egypt to-day in the persons of the Ghawazees. In common with most Oriental dancers, the Ghawazee takes up her position on a brightly coloured carpet. She is dressed in a sleeveless corselet, brilliantly enamelled after the style of an Egyptian sword-sheath, her only other article of attire being a simple muslin chemise vividly spotted and star-bespangled, while on her head a kerchief of cloth of gold is draped in quaint manner. Her bare feet never move, the body alone vibrating to the shrill music of flute and cymbals. The play of the long supple arms is wonderful as they in turn caress and pursue an invisible being who eternally eludes their passionate embrace.

To revert to the days when the Pyramids were the newest thing in architecture, traces of the sacred dance of Apis are found in Biblical history where the prophets of Israel inaugurated the habit of dancing round the golden calf; but unfortunately the costume is omitted from the records, and though I know Miriam led a procession, dancing and playing on the tambourine, and David danced before the Ark, and Jephthah's daughter danced to her doom, their dress is "enwrop in mystery"; and I can but hope it was adequate.

The art of dancing was glorified into popularity in Greece, where it was held in high veneration and freely indulged in by all members of the community, upon whom the exercise was rendered incumbent up to the age of thirty. How salutary a similar rule would be, if enforced in England to-day! There would be no lack of dancing men at balls, the task of the chaperone would be lightened, and the burden of anxiety pressing upon the much-harassed hostess reduced to a feather-weight.

The dances of the old Hellenes were divided into three classes—the sacred, the military, and the profane; and dress was endowed with a festive air by the flowers and garlands of leaves worn on the head. A chorus of female dancers, attired in white, was a feature at funerals; while, clad in full armour and equipped as though for the field of battle, men practised the military dances with vigour and enthusiasm.

In ancient Rome the art of dancing, as learned from the Greeks, degenerated into an excuse for licentiousness, and wealthy patricians included female dancers among their slaves. The dress of these dancers was of transparent tissue held by jewelled girdles, and flowers were in their hair and fell in a wreath round their necks.

In India there are two classes of dancers—those consecrated to the service of the pagodas, and those known as Nautch girls, or to give them their Portuguese title, Bayadeses. The former are termed Devadasi, and are to be found in numbers in the sacred city of Benares. The dress of the Nautch girl is brightly coloured, of rich material brilliantly decorated with embroidery and precious stones. It comprises tight embroidered trousers to the ankles, plainly visible through a short skirt of transparent texture held at the waist by a girdle from which hangs a narrow white muslin apron, pleated and bordered with gold. The little chuli, a diminutive jacket, is short-sleeved and cut low at the throat, and leaves the centre of the body bare but for a diaphanous scarf which floats from the left shoulder, twines round the figure, and escapes to flutter in a loose end behind. Glistening with oil, the black hair is parted and hangs down the back in a long plait, weighted with a cluster of gold tassels. The tiny skull-cap is gaily embroidered, and the scented petals of flowers quiver amid the dark tresses. Bracelets load the arms and legs, rings scintillate in the ears and on the fingers and toes, chains dangle from the neck, and an enormous ring depends from the left nostril. During centuries the dances of the Devadasi and Nautch girls have altered little, if at all, and it would be amusing to contrast their methods with the polychromatic lightsome modernity of Loie Fuller, the abrupt conclusions of the "high-kicker," and the prim precisions of the pink-shod pirouetter of the pantomime. Will the Lord Chamberlain permit?

Like the Daimios and Samourai, the sacred Geisha is rapidly becoming a memory only in the Japan of to-day. Nevertheless, the custom of keeping dancing girls in the temples still survives in certain provinces. Quaint because of their solemnity, the religious dances are executed by a number of diminutive maidens under thirteen years of age. Ranged on a platform, these odd little vestals are garbed in a manner which adds considerably to the bizarre effect of the scene. Each wears twelve kimonos, one on top of the other, alternately white and red, the borders showing in regular rows at the throat, and over these is a Court mantle sumptuously embroidered in gold and coloured silks, the back shaped to suggest a chasuble. Divided down the centre in front, the hair hangs in a plait behind, decorated with circles cut out of gold paper drawn together to form two big rings, while at the temples appear clusters of red camellias and wistaria and metal ornaments. The face is whitened and the lips are stained vermilion, and the shaved eyebrows replaced by short, slanting lines of black paint, which lend a touch at once piquant and grotesque. The Geisha of the house is a vastly different person. Her sole mission in life is to amuse and entertain. To this end she dons a gaily-embroidered kimono and decorates her black hair with fans, flowers, and other ornaments. Her prettiest performance is the fan dance, to the light strain of a stringed instrument played by a female musician. Fluttering a fan in her right hand, with her left she liberates a paper butterfly, then, darting hither and thither with marvellous grace and dexterity, she pursues it as it floats towards a flower, skims a petal and alights on the brim of a cup, to escape afresh and describe moth-like circles about the flame of a candle, suddenly disappearing in a quick flash of fire.

In Mohammedan countries dancing is denounced as a sin. Men never indulge in it, either for profit or pastime, while such women as make it their profession are regarded as disreputable members of the community.

Despite the ban placed upon them, Persian dancers are wonderfully skilful, and capable of performing prodigies in their particular line. They dance to the accompaniment of an air chanted by a woman or a boy. The rhythm is slow, the tune languorous, and the action pantomimic, being made up of certain poses and movements which, seconded by an eloquent play of feature, strive to tell a story of some sort. The most popular and best known is the Dance of the Bee. The dancer pretends to have been stung, and pursues the insect with a thousand graceful turns and bends, divesting herself of her garments as she does so. She first appears upon the scene in the all-enveloping mantle common to her countrywomen out of doors. This removed, she is seen to be wearing a short skirt, pulled well down on the hips, a long-sleeved jacket of white muslin, cut low at the neck and open nearly all the way from the throat, and a little coat of brightly coloured silk, satin, or velvet. Her hair hangs in plaits, surmounted by a tiny embroidered cap perched high on the head. Finally she discards both coat and inner jacket, and reveals a body covered with tattoo marks, huge serpents writhing about the legs, and flowers, birds, and palms standing out prominently on the white flesh. Her bust is supported by round shields joined together in front and attached by a narrow band behind, and in her hands she manipulates a scarf with marvellous grace and dexterity.

The costume of a Turkish dancer allows less freedom of movement, being more cumbersome and elaborate. The skirt reaches to the ankles, where it terminates in a deep hem headed by a fringe, and the little sleeveless jacket is fastened at the throat only, and opens over a chemisette. About the waist a fringed shawl is arranged in such a way as to suggest a circular frill, while a belt, held by a large clasp, is drawn low on the hips. A white veil is thrown over the turban and pinned under the chin with a jewelled brooch, concealing the hair and ears but leaving the face exposed, and on the feet are yellow slippers sewn with seed pearls.

The Sword Dance of Bonnie Scotland has its Oriental prototype in the Dance of the Scimitar. The latter inspires a charming costume. A veil of diaphanous gauze falls cloud-like over the hair and face, and the white muslin chemisette, with its sleeve to the elbow, is drawn in below the waist with a coloured sash, a necklace composed of rows of gilt coins glittering on the bare throat. The ankle-length skirt is of heavier texture, draped with a fringed shawl drawn round the hips, knotted in front, and hanging in a point behind; while a scimitar is balanced on the head, a second being held in the right hand, the left resting lightly on the hip.

Much as the mantilla makes for grace in Spanish dances, I, personally, prefer the dress of the peasants. In Galicia a rural dancer delights the eye in a quaint hat shaped like a fool's cap, with the addition of a three-cornered brim of black velvet turned sharply up in front, one pompon adorning the summit and another appearing midway down at either side. A scarlet sash, with fringed ends, is knotted carelessly on the right hip, and the long-sleeved white shirt is thrown into striking relief by a little sleeveless bolero of scarlet cloth, the back bearing an embroidered design, the front conspicuous for triangular pockets dedicated to castanets, and small revers of black velvet. The tightly-fitting knickerbockers are of tan leather, finished at the knee with black bands, where they are met by gaiters to match, closely buttoned up the outer side. A female dancer is no less picturesque in a short skirt of striped red and white, low black shoes and white cotton stockings; her apron displays a border of contrasting colour, and the chemisette is almost concealed by a short round cape of cloth edged with black velvet, which crosses over and fastens at the left side of the waist. A gaily-patterned kerchief is worn on the hair, the point falling beyond the shoulders behind.

Infinitely more showy is the dancing dress of a professional, a member of a well-known troupe in Seville. The yellow satin skirt, reaching below the knees, is laden with glittering sequin trimming and a shower of lace and chiffon flounces, and powdered with spangles and small imitation coins. The low-necked satin bodice has tight elbow-sleeves, softened with lace frills, and from the dÉcolletage dangle glittering paillettes, a cluster of flowers being fastened at the left shoulder. The hair is elaborately arranged, and a bunch of flowers peeps out at the right side from under the folds of a mantilla. An important part of the male dancer's dress is a black toreador hat, with a large pompon in front. Merely a glimpse is caught of a white shirt front, and the long-sleeved satin or velvet jacket is gorgeously embroidered at the wrists. Similar embroidery shows down the outside of either leg of the satin knickerbockers, which meet white stockings accompanied by black ballet shoes. A sash with fringed ends is knotted on one hip, and a cloak is thrown with careless care over the shoulders and wound in inimitable fashion round the left arm.

The "Coon" dance so dear to the South American makes no great demands upon the skill and ingenuity of those entrusted with the planning of a suitable costume. A short skirt of red and white awning is the most usual, accompanied by a scarlet sash knotted low on the left hip. The loose white blouse vaunts a sailor collar, turned-back cuffs, and a cravat of striped material matching the skirt. Black shoes and stockings are worn, and the large straw hat is of the haymaker order, the crown encircled by a red scarf tied at the left side with the ends falling to the shoulder.

A costume appealing to the male dancer who appreciates comfort is that of gay old Pierrot, with his full white trousers and black pompons, loose coat and ruffle, conical hat above a black silk scarf, whitened face, and vermilion lips. His feminine companion is a common object in the fancy-dress ballrooms on and off the stage.

Practically every country has its characteristic dances, to which are naturally dedicated some adaptation of the national dress. There are fancy dances in plenty which call for no distinctive style of dress, but the fashion fits the footstep as a rule, and no doubt influenced its birth. The stately movements of the minuet and the grace of the gavotte ask for the dignity of powder and brocade; the country dance seems the merrier for the gaily-coloured fluttering ribbons and short bright petticoats; the hornpipe would lose some significance without the co-operation of navy blue and a man-o'-war or a Jack-tar hat; the hunting dance shouts "away" for pink; the Irish jig is shorn of much of its charm without the emerald-green skirt, the scarlet cloak, and the folded kerchief; the Scotch dance demands its tartan; the Spanish dance the mantilla and castanets; and so on through the whole dictionary of dances. The mode suits the measure, and the dance destined to be performed in clogs loses its individuality when tripped in satin slippers; the tarantella could not live to tell its tale in sabots; the jig would jump to a conclusion under the stultifying glories of satin and patches; and the sensuous grace of the East would expire in the bondage of Western raiment.