The mother of British ballet: the founder of Britain's Royal Ballet, still a formidable presence at the age of ninety-five, recalls her long and illustrious career - Dame Ninette de Valois

Dance Magazine, Feb, 1994 by Margaret Willis

It was one of those mornings too often thought of as being typically English: dark and dreary, with a steady, misty drizzle that penetrated both body and soul. The ground-floor apartment overlooking the Thames River in Barnes, southwest of central London, made a warm and welcome retreat. I was shown into a sitting room whose furniture was more attuned to comfort and familiarity than elegance and style. There were, surprisingly, few memorabilia on view: I expected more remembrances of the dynamic career that has spanned more than eighty years. For this was the home of a remarkable woman whose equally remarkable vision and unflagging perseverance established the art of ballet in Britain.

Dame Ninette de Valois, born Edris Stannus on June 6, 1898, in County Wicklow, Ireland, is the mother of English ballet and a jewel in Britain's cultural crown. She has devoted her long life to her art as a dancer, teacher, choreographer, and, most notably, as the founder of today's Royal Ballet. Her wit, intelligence, and determination have made and still make her a formidable figure - many young dancers have been reduced to tears by her forthrightness and bluntness. Yet her inexhaustible drive, her clear sense of direction, and her quick administrative mind have set a standard of excellence. Even in her ninety-fifth year, Dame Ninette, known affectionately as "Madam" in ballet circles, still regularly attends performances and shows great interest in the training of young dancers. Petite, with wispy white hair, bright eyes, and rosy apple cheeks, she invited me to sit down and came straight to the point: "What is it you want to ask me?" Lying on the coffee table were several obituaries of Rudolf Nureyev. De Valois, as director of the Royal Ballet in 1962, was responsible for giving the legendary Russian dancer his first permanent job in the West. It seemed a good place to start our talk.

"I knew when I first saw him that I wanted him in our company," Madam said. "Rudolf came to dance here for charity just after his walkout [from the Kirov Ballet]. You see, he did that in Paris, but it was London he wanted to get to. He walked into a perfect paradise here, into a theater scene ready for his talents.

"We loved having him. He was a great lift to us and was very helpful with all the classics we were putting on. He was a genuine admirer of comedy and wanted to move on to modern ballet. We were after his past, and he was after our present. Compare him with Nijinsky?" she queried. "No, I couldn't do that. I did see Nijinsky dance, just once at Covent Garden, but I was young, too young to understand. No, I couldn't compare the two dancers. The legends about them are very even, though. They both sprang from the same roots, you see - the Russian Imperial Ballet."

Nureyev had left the Kirov, with its two-hundred-year tradition, and joined this relative youngster - the Royal Ballet, which in 1962 was only thirty-one years old. The Royal's roots came from the careful fusion of Russian and French classicism with the diverse traditions of English theater life, evolving as a result of de Valois's experience and steadfast and determined efforts over many years.

It all started with an Irish jig at the turn of the century. Young Edris Stannus, daughter of a wealthy army officer, was acutely shy. Yet at a children's party, when she was only five or six, she plucked up enough courage to let go of her nanny's skirts and perform the little dance she had learned from the wife of a herdsman in a cottage on her father's estate. When she finished, she immediately hid herself again - but it was a start.

When she was seven, the family moved to an English seaside town, and she was enrolled in a local dancing school. She had such a natural gift for dancing that, by the age of fourteen, she was touring England with a troupe known as The Wonder Children. Discipline and supervision were very strict for the youngsters, and Edris and two cousins were cared for by her aunt. The tours. though packed with performances, were short; Edris regularly returned to her schoolwork and her governess. "Mother didn't mind me performing," she recalled. "She recognized I had some talent but hoped I would find something in London rather than go away on tours."

At the outset of World War I she had her first London engagement as principal dancer in a pantomime at the Lyceum Theatre. She soon recognized the need to continue serious study, and took early-morning private lessons - first with Edouard Espinosa and later with the great Italian ballet master Enrico Cecchetti, whose classes she described as "grueling but wonderful."

For the next few years, Ninette de Valois, as she was now known ("My mother thought of the name because our family had French connections"), performed at most of the London music halls. The work was physically challenging, for there were often three shows a day. "I never did anything but pure ballet; it was very much part of the music-hall program in those days," she commented. Ballet extracts were woven around the comedy and musical acts, which starred such famous music-hall names as Whimsical Walker, Wee Georgie Wood, and Little Tich. "Our dances may have had some connection with the show, but quite often they were just abstract. It was the only ballet we had, so there was nothing else we could do," Madam reminisced, munching on the biscuits that her home helper had brought in with the coffee.