ACT 3 LITTLE FISH, BIG POND
The Journey
The train trip from Winnipeg to Halifax took three days. David remembered passing a lot of scenery, although his mind was focused on what it would be like in England. There was little chatting with those around him but eventually a woman with a young child, sitting across the aisle, began talking to him. David described the situation in this way: “When the subject of what I did came up and she found out that I was a ballet dancer, the conversation took on a different level for some time. I was vaguely aware of some men being slightly different in their outlook and preferences but to have someone think of me in that way was slightly disturbing. I was green as one can be and did not understand her caution when I told her what I did. Eventually, the conversation resumed, albeit with some reservation, but it did help to pass the time.”
According to David, the food on the train was even better than on the 1945 tours and he was pleased that he could still get Lake Winnipeg goldeye- his favourite fish. The “boat train”, as it was called, passed province after province, until it finally pulled into the Halifax harbour late at night. In David’s words: “I got off the train and saw before me the side of the ship- the Aquitania. I could not believe my eyes. It was enormous, larger than I had ever imagined in my wildest moments. It was like standing beside a very high building. At our level, we could not even see the first deck. After we lined up and presented our tickets, we went up a long ramp to the body of the ship. This was post-war travel, yet the atmosphere of the past luxury liner was there: the crew, the purser and all the trappings that went with the past. For me it was the great adventure: I was onboard- I was going across the Atlantic Ocean.”
The Aquitania was one of the older big ships of the Cunard Line. It was used as a troop ship during the war. David and the other passengers slept in rooms that had been occupied by soldiers. He was in a large room filled with wooden beds- narrow bunks with army issue blankets. Hand baggage was kept in this room, large baggage elsewhere. David described his impressions in this way: “The ship was massive with endless corridors- then finally the upper deck, where I would spend a great deal of time. The announcement for meal time took us to the enormous dining room. This was the only part of the ship that looked vaguely like it may have been a luxury liner at some point in history. The menu was something I had not seen since before the war. We were going to eat like royalty. We all over ate that evening.” It wasn’t long before the ship’s horn and the rumble of the engines announced the ship’s departure. The passengers had a short time on deck and then retired to the sleeping area, where they were introduced to the large bathroom, described by David as having “toilets all in a row, no compartments. There were showers or bath tubs, fresh or salt water. Get undressed in full view and put the clothes on the end of the bed. The sleep was not bad. I was slightly aware of the movement.”
The following morning would bring a different experience regarding the ship’s motion. In David’s words: “To wake up onboard ship was a very strange sensation- totally new. There was movement, there was vibration and a sense of moving in one direction. I got up after a few moments of taking all that in. The first signs of motion sickness hit me- I was going to be sea-sick if I did not do something. Somewhere in my head a voice said “go on deck”, so I did. After a walk, my stomach told me all was well. The need to find a new means of walking was next. After several turns of the deck, I was almost a sailor, or so I thought.”
After breakfast that first morning, David was happy to receive a telegram from his mother (to the left). He, along with the other passengers, also received a piece of frightening news: during the night, they had just missed a German floating mine in the Halifax Harbour. According to David, “the small number of passengers in relation to the size of the ship was made very evident as time went on, but we did finally learn that we were matched by the 250 German prisoners of war that were in the hold. We did not see them, nor they us.” Despite all of this, David enjoyed his experience at sea: “I soon fell firmly in love with this situation. I spent hours looking out to sea and watching the water against the side of the ship. It is not for everyone, but it was very much for me. Day after day, fresh air to burn, more food than I had eaten for years and miles of walking around the decks. The purser’s office became a point of reference- long talks with the head purser. Seven days on the open sea and time stops. Your food and sleep clock works but the rest is timeless. I enjoyed that vast expanse of water.” The photos below were taken by David during his journey.
It must have been a thrilling event as the ship approached its destination. In David’s words: “Finally, ‘Land Ho!’ We could see the western tip of the British Isles. Then we sailed along the English Channel to Southampton. A nasty wind had come up so we had trouble docking. We were to pull in beside the Queen Mary but it proved to be more difficult than anticipated. After much pushing and pulling by tug boats, we landed.”
English Hosts
Arrangements had been made in Winnipeg for David’s accommodations in London. A man by the name of Cyril Wallace would meet him at the quay in Southampton. The Adams family heard about Cyril through a mutual friend. He had served some time training at the barracks in Winnipeg. David did not have a clue what he looked like: “I don’t remember the signals or signs to identify my host but they were like something from a 30s movie. With delays and luggage, it was getting dark as we began our train journey to London. Having traveled from Winnipeg to Halifax on a Canadian train, the shock of a British train was quite something. It was like a dinky toy. I felt like Gulliver amongst the Lilliputians. Everything was small- the train, the houses, even the people. Conversation was strained, apart from the obvious remarks about the journey. I was nervous and felt my first pangs of ‘I want to go home’. After a change of trains, we arrived at the East Sheen station, where we got off the train and found a trolley to carry my luggage. It was pitch black with no street lights. Cyril explained that it was because of the WAR- an expression I would hear many times during my time in Britain.”
At last, David arrived at his new tiny home located at 20 Paynesfield Avenue- a narrow street with attached housing in East Sheen, London. Inside the place, he met Cyril’s mother. David had difficulty understanding her London accent. In his words: “Cup of tea, of course, and ‘Are you nervous David?’ Yes, Mrs. Wallace, I was. By now, I was talking too fast and too long, trying to tell it all in one night. Finally, it was time for bed. I was to sleep upstairs in a room of my own. It was not a bad size, with a single bed that was comfortable, a desk and an easy chair. I was shortly asleep. The first sleep was not very long but very deep. I began to surface with the realization that I was stationery after ten days of movement. Gone was the ‘clickety-clack’ of the Canadian train. Gone was the hum of the engines of the Aquitania. I was in London, England.”
The following morning, when David went downstairs for breakfast, he was greeted by, in his words, “that unfamiliar but attractive accent: ‘Didya sleep well?’ My opening remarks were brief. ‘Do ya like kippers?’ Not knowing what kippers were, I simply nodded. ‘Cuppa tea?’ Oh yes please, I responded. ‘Be careful, it’s ot.’ How do you spell that? I asked. The kipper arrived, after the ot tea. It was smoked herring. My first try at eating this fish was not entirely successful. I ended up with a mouthful of bones. There was a special technique for eating this delicious fish.”
David reflected on the warm relationship he had with Cyril’s mother, who was to be, in his words, “a kind of Mum to me during that time and welcomed me to London with her delightful accent and way of expressing herself. She will never know how much she helped me, for she is no longer with us, bless her heart.”
Cyril worked in a bank. When he arrived home that evening, David was informed about a few things that had to be attended to the next day, which included applying for an identity card and obtaining ration books. Then followed a lecture about the WAR and the problems therein. David tried to tell Cyril and his mother that the Adams family had lived through rationing in Canada, but he was told that it could not have been as bad as in Britain.
New Challenges
The following morning, with passport in hand, David found the Identity place nearby, where he filled out some forms, and then applied for his ration books. In his words: “I felt like I had to sign my life away in both places, but I did see the local stores (called shops) and the lay of the land in my immediate area. After the initial shock of size, manners and accent, I tried to settle into the life I was to lead…”
David called the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School and was told that he must appear at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre on a certain date and time for his audition. He was somewhat alarmed by this news. In his words: “Audition?? I had a scholarship. Having crossed the ocean at great expense, I must now audition. What if they refuse me? What will I do then? All manner of thoughts and doubts entered this new life. Was I to be stranded in this seemingly hostile land? At least I had a bed for the time being.”
David described the trip to his audition in considerable detail: “The journey of my audition took place on the #73 bus. I went upstairs on the double decker bus and became a real tourist. It was fascinating but frightening as I realized the enormity of my new city. The 73 took me within streets (don’t say blocks) of the theatre. Ask them to let you down at Angel, I was told. Names- funny names, new names, some are gone and some will go with me to the grave. I discovered that day there was no centre- no downtown. I do not remember the length of the bus journey, just that I had never been on public transport for that long in my whole life. Angel was called up for my benefit and I found the theatre just up the street. It stood out and looked like something out of a 30s movie. During my journey there, I had seen the results of the war all around me and the theatre area was not given any respite…”
In his writings, David described the effects of the war on London as he saw it: “London was quite messy, with shattered buildings, some barely held up by timbers, with huge cavities where the rocket bombs had landed. There were machine gun holes in the street lamps where I lived in East Sheen. The German fighter planes had machine gunned the streets. It made me feel grateful for not having been there during the event. In central London, St. Paul’s Cathedral was standing unscathed but everything around it was devastated. The German bombers apparently could not aim their bombs so as to make a direct hit- something to do with the shape of the dome. The atmosphere did not seem conducive to any kind of theatrical life, but there was so much going on, so much to see, that the rubble faded into the background.”
David described his audition at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre (named by a Mr. Sadler who owned a well located right in the theatre) in this way: “Adeline Phillips will conduct your audition, I was told. ‘Get changed and go to the studio.’ I did, and she put me through my paces. I became aware of differences but I basically knew that we spoke the same language as far as the ballet technique was concerned. What a relief! At any rate, I was accepted and given a timetable for my classes at St. Mary’s Church Hall, Chalk Farm. The adventure was beginning. It was not all for nothing that I had crossed the ocean.”
When the day came for David to start classes with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School, he had become relatively familiar with the London underground system, so finding St. Mary’s Hall was no problem. He had a map of the subway routes (the Tube, as it would be called in later years) and the necessary equipment for his class at hand as he headed out on this important day. In his words: “St. Mary’s Church Hall was exactly what it said- a very large church hall that was the central studio of the school. I went straight into a class that first day. It was with Adeline Phillips, the woman who had conducted my audition. I was the giant in this situation. They could all walk under my arms. Not that they were younger- just smaller. It was here that I was to take ballet classes, character classes, pas de deux or partnering classes, and Eurythmics, which was sort of like the Greek Dance that we had done in Winnipeg. There were also straight academic classes.” (see schedule to the right)
David described his feelings about this difficult transition in his life and his development as a dancer during this time: “Suddenly I was a babe, learning things about dance and life that I had not been exposed to in Winnipeg. The effect would be devastating at first but would change to a kind of confidence in time. I did not discuss my age very much and was always thought of as being older than I was. That pleased me because I wanted and needed to be grown up. I walked into my first class at the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School with some confidence in what I could do. I had been accepted in one of the few large schools connected to a big ballet company outside the Soviet situation. I did have a background and I was open to new things, I hoped. There was a kind of snob atmosphere about my fellow students. Many of them came from well to do parents, simply because the rest could not afford the cost of dance training. In that area, I was out of my depth. It took time to make friends. I was shy and naïve. I stared at the girls in admiration and was shocked at some of the boys, who seemed to be trying to emulate the girls. I gradually realized that they were trying to figure out where my sexual priorities lay. I was not brought up to even think about such things, let alone talk about them. My teachers looked at me in the beginning as if they had an impossible task ahead of them. I was tall and big. Dancers were not that size in 1946; they were small and had been from the beginning. I felt as if the rest of the dancers could walk under my outstretched arms. All that food, they said.”
As it turned out, David received a favorable progress report for the Autumn Term of 1946, which stated that he was a keen worker in his dance training, that he wrote some good imaginative essays in English and that he did some good musical work in Eurythmics. The concluding remark from the Director of the school was: “A very encouraging start!”
It wasn’t long before David received an official looking letter addressed to his home base in London. In his words: “The identity card and ration books (one for food and another for clothing) had arrived. Also included was a notice to report for National Duty- in other words, I had been called up, drafted, conscripted. They wanted me in the army. PANIC! Then anger. I went to the appropriate office and asked what the hell was going on.” After David explained his situation to the officials, they admitted there had been a mistake. However, he was told that he could only remain in Britain for two years. If he stayed beyond that time, he would be required to do military service. David’s thoughts on the matter at that time: “Two years- well I had best get busy because I have no intention of spending valuable time drilling and marching with the British army!”
Discovering London
As far as the rationing was concerned, David dutifully handed his food ration book to his new Mum. As he described it, “the ration for the week was purchased at the local shops and placed on the dining room table for me to see. ‘Good heavens’, I said. ‘So much meat, so much sugar and candy.’ The reply was, ‘Yes, isn’t it dreadful?’ I responded that I had not seen so much of those items in one place for one person since the beginning of the war. I realized quickly that I should not dwell on the subject for long. I never brought it up again.” David’s clothing ration book was kept with his collection of memorabilia from that time in England. He used up some of the coupons but there were several remaining by the time he returned to Canada.
David described his first trip into London in the following manner:“My first journey of exploration was to give a lasting impression. The bus system of London is phenomenal, but it takes too long. I knew that I must also take the tube to cover the vast distances. After a short time on the bus, I took the Piccadilly Line from Hammersmith and headed for what I thought was the center of London- Leicester Square. My first view of the tube was almost frightening- the longest escalators in the whole world and the longest elevator rides I had ever experienced. I knew why it was called “the tube” when I entered the platform on the Piccadilly Line. To travel that far under the ground in a tube on a tiny train travelling at 30 miles per hour was quite an experience for a prairie boy. At Leicester Square I surfaced, again after one of those long escalator rides. I paused to think how far down I had been under the ground, but knew I just had to accept it. Out in the air, I was standing on Charing Cross Road. I stood and stared, drinking it all in.
As I was there, standing and looking, I had an experience which was to change my views at 17 years of age. A short man, obviously not from London, came up to me. Without any pause or preamble, he propositioned me. He was French but made his approach in English. He had the small moustache and beret- the whole French image. I was enraged but did not exactly understand what he meant. Should I hit him, shout for help, or what? I tried in my best manners to tell him that I was not interested. He pleaded a little but finally gave up and left. A new thing entered my life- men wanting to go to bed with men. What would they do? I thought. I did say that I was green.”
As if that adventure wasn’t shocking enough, David soon encountered another disturbing sight. In his words: “I started walking and looking at the shops. I was on the East side by then and looked across the street. I could not believe what I saw. There was a man walking south on Charing Cross Road wearing a raincoat. As he walked in front of everyone, he was masturbating. I stopped in my tracks and stared. I could not believe that anyone could possibly do such a thing. I understood what he was doing, but to do it in PUBLIC? No one seemed to be paying any attention to him. I had another one of those ‘I want to go home’ moments. It soon passed, for there on that street was a world centre for so many things that I could not miss, so I let those two experiences pass as lessons, and began to explore.”
David was fascinated with all the bookstores in London, where he could find books on every subject that he knew of, and more. In his words: “I discovered Cyril Beaumont and his then famous dance book store. I was to spend many hours in there, looking around and talking to this impressive man. He had known the greats of my chosen profession and loved to talk about them. His collection was amazing and unsurpassed. If only I had known what to buy and had had the means to buy it. As I walked up and down this book mecca, I remembered my Uncle Boy and his comments on the books that were on this street. I knew that it could be a life’s work to roam and buy books on this street.”
David reflected on the importance of this special spot in London, not only at that time in his life, but in the years to come: “For many reasons, that tube stop was to be a key point in my life in London. Many circumstances and jobs took me to that first impression spot. I don’t remember being propositioned again, but many other strange and wondrous things happened. Some of them will surface as I tell my story, but there are so many and they cover a long period of time. I can never forget my first impressions of Charing Cross Road.”
Dealing with Colonial Attitudes
According to David, being a Canadian in Britain in 1946 was looked upon by many as being a “Colonial”. He described this condescending attitude in his writings: “Was Canada America? Was it under the British flag? Oh yes, now we remember, there were the Yanks, and then the Canadians- they were such nice boys.’ On the strength of that, I was acceptable. ‘But tell me, do you have things like running water and such conveniences over there? Are the Indians still hostile?’ That may seem stupid in this day and age, but there was still an element of that left after the war. As for the arts, ‘well how could there be anything like that in a hostile climate. In the backwoods of Canada, you say? Simply amazing!’ Sometimes I wondered myself how we had managed to build up anything in Winnipeg- but we had, and I was proud of it. ‘The classics?’ Oh no, choreography by our director Gweneth Lloyd, I responded. ‘British, you say? Ah well, that accounts for it.”
When David was asked if he had seen much ballet, he responded that he had seen Ballet Russe perform once when they were in Winnipeg. Again, he was hit with the superior attitude towards him: “Ballet Russe once? What a shame. Massine? Oh, he dances in America, doesn’t he? You must see some British ballet.”
As it turned out, David was to see not only British ballet, but much more. As a student in the Sadler’s Wells Ballet school, he was allowed to watch performances at Covent Garden for free. In his words: “Not all of the students took advantage of this situation, which shocked and amazed me. I did, and went as often as I could. Performances and dress rehearsals became part of my training. I watched them like a hawk. Endless performances of Sleeping Beauty, with Fonteyn, Shearer and Paltengi. A lot of different casts; a lot of different styles. I devoured it.”
David saw several companies perform, including Ballet Rambert, where he saw his first ever performance of Les Sylphides, and hated it: “How I would eat my thoughts later on when I would dance in hundreds of performances of that ballet with the National Ballet of Canada and Festival Ballet of London.” He saw the original Ballet Russe, Les Etoiles de la Danse, featuring the ballet stars Collette Marchand and Serge Perrault, and the Grande Ballet de Monte Carlo. David was particularly impressed with a performance of The Ballet Champs Elysée from Paris, where he saw several excellent dancers, including a young Leslie Caron who was later to be featured in a film with Gene Kelly. In David’s words: “This company offered a repertoire that was so different than what we were seeing in London. A Young Man and Death, featuring the dancer Jean Babiée, left a lasting impression and I shall never see another Bluebird pas de deux (from the ballet Sleeping Beauty) to equal his. He was indeed the Nijinsky of the 40s, and then some.”
In addition to ballet performances, David saw some operas, Contemporary Dance Theatre, and even went to a performance of the British composer Vaughan Williams conducting his own London Symphony at St. Albert Hall. On the lighter side, he also went to see a production of Annie Get Your Gun with ex Winnipeg dancer Paddy Stone playing the role of Iron Tail and dancing an Indian ceremonial dance.
Professional Debut
On October 11, 1946, David received a letter from The Royal Opera House requesting his presence for a costume fitting in preparation for their upcoming production Coppelia. David was to perform in the Corps de Ballet at the Royal Opera House. In David’s words: “I had been at the school only a week when I received a letter telling me to report for a costume fitting for Coppelia. Shortly after that, a telegram arrived, notifying me of a rehearsal at Goodge Street studios. I was to dance with the Sadler’s Wells at Covent Garden in their new production. Arrangements had to be made so that I could attend rehearsals while I was attending the school. I could not believe my luck!”
This was to be David’s professional debut, with such a renowned company and in such an amazing theatre. He had not been paid during his time with the Winnipeg Ballet. According to records from the Royal Opera House archives, David danced in several performances of Coppelia as a peasant boy, from October 1946 to January, 1947. He appeared in the third act, during the final celebrations, but he also had to learn the mazurka and the czardas from the first act. In David’s words: “The group was fascinating: Robert Helpmann as Doctor Coppelius, Alexis Rassine, Harold Turner and John Hart as Frantz, and Margot Fonteyn, Margaret Dale and Moira Shearer as Swanhilda. Quite a group. I went on stage at Covent Garden in that first season of the company. It was an experience I would remember.”
Little did David know that he would perform again at Covent Garden many years later with the Royal Ballet, using the same dressing room. After dancing in Coppelia, David began rehearsals for the Sadler’s Wells next major production Tricorne (The Three-Cornered Hat), staged by Leonide Massine, whom David had idolized since seeing him perform with Ballet Russe in Winnipeg. David would arrive early for rehearsals in order to observe Massine: “Dressed in what we would now call a track suit, he did a very thorough barre, with a lot of very rapid combinations. He changed the barre every day. He was very concentrated.” David was learning to dance the part of a policeman who arrests the Miller. However, after a number of rehearsals, he was informed that John Field (a senior dancer with the company) had returned from doing his National Service and would take over the role. David was moved to the Sadler’s Wells Junior company. However, David became an official member of the company and would dance at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre for the meager sum of 5 pounds and 10 shillings per week. He signed his first contract with a ballet company (on the left)
Other Roles and Influential Teachers with the Sadler’s Wells Company
David first met Celia Franca when she was working with the Sadler’s Wells Junior company in 1947. He appeared in her ballet Khadra (music by Sibelius) dancing the part of the husband. David thought this ballet was one of Celia’s best works. For once, his height was considered perfect for the role. According to David, John Cranko had usually performed this role: “John Cranko was a dancer in the Sadler’s Wells Junior company when I was there in 1947 and he was just beginning to do small pieces for the repertoire in that company. He worked in street clothes, never changed for rehearsals.” As it turned out, Cranko become a famous choreographer who later worked with the National Ballet of Canada. Celia also began the choreography for another piece entitled Bailemos. David learned the steps but ended up leaving the company before it was performed. In David’s words, “it was a kind of pseudo-Spanish work, not really successful.”
Another role David performed was Strong Man in the circus scene of Smetana’s opera The Bartered Bride (they used to call it “Battered Pride”) with the Sadler’s Wells Opera Ballet. In the final moment of the circus scene, David had to lift John Cranko on to his shoulder. David was also seen in the ballet Assembly Ball (choreographed by Andrée Howard, with music by Bizet). David and Eric Hyst danced the roles of the two cavaliers, with John Cranko and Kenneth Macmillan dancing the roles of the two gentlemen. Macmillan was another “to be famous” member of the company, who would later invite David to become a member of the Royal Ballet in the 1970s.
During his time with the Sadler’s Wells Ballet School and Company, David was influenced by some notable teachers, including George Gontcharov, for whom David had a great deal of respect: “George Gontcharov was the teacher who I looked up to from the beginning. He had been trained in Russia and was capable of doing anything he asked for. He never appeared in dance costume, always in street clothes. Even dressed this way, he could do everything. Gontcharov taught me about partnering and character dance but, more important, how to handle myself as a male dancer on stage.” David also mentioned that he learned an important piece of stage craft from this important teacher: “You finish your solo, you do not move, you stay, you look at the audience- you stay, you do not move. Then, your smile gets a little bigger, and finally you take a bow. I never forgot his instructions in that area. I used them throughout my long career and it worked every time, no matter where I was dancing.”
Ninette De Valois taught classes for the senior Sadler’s Wells Company and Peggy Van Pragg worked with the junior company. According to David, they were both excellent teachers of technique and artistry. It was at one of the senior classes that David reunited with Paddy Stone, former lead dancer with the Winnipeg Ballet, who was then a member of the Sadler’s Wells Company.
Moving On
In May of 1947, just before Sadler’s Wells was to leave on their summer tour, Ursula Moreton, the assistant director of the company at that time, called David to her office to have a little chat: “David, you are so big!”, implying that this was an inconvenience for the company. According to David, they thought he had a glandular problem. He had put on a little weight because of the starchy food he had been eating, with few alternatives available in post-war Britain. After this message was conveyed to him, David asked to be released from his contract because he assumed there would be no roles for him. The irony of this situation, according to David, was that some of the choreographers who had worked for the company had used David for certain roles specifically because he was tall. Another amusing story David liked to tell was when the famous dancer Svetlana Beriosova was hired by the company and nobody was tall enough to partner her. Both she and David ended up dancing together with the Metropolitan Ballet.
David described his next move: “I joined the International Ballet Company for one glorious week and began work on Coppelia again. I also saw another version of Swan Lake danced by Paul Petroff and Nana Gollner, American guest dancers. My size was once more against me as I did not fit into the company’s costumes. So once more I moved on. This move was to take me to the International Ballet School, where I took classes with Nicholas Sergeyev. What a strange little man, and what strange classes!”
Sergeyev had trained as a dancer with the Imperial Russian Ballet and eventually became the company manager, although he was not well liked. He fled Russia in 1918 and spent the rest of his life in the west, working with several prominent ballet companies. He is credited with recreating many classical ballets that had been preserved in the Russian repertoire. David was told an interesting story about Sergeyev: “During the British stint, I was told the story that Sergeyev had stolen books containing the choreography of the classics from Russia, and had taken them to England. The Swan Lake he brought over was not the classic version, but rather a version done by George Balanchine as his graduation thesis from the choreographic school. It took until the 1950s to find out this was true.” In any event, David pointed out that Sergeyev’s teaching took him far beyond what he had experienced in his previous training as a dancer. After taking classes with Sergeyev, David began to lose weight and move with greater agility.
Another memorable teacher during that time of transition was Vera Volkova. In David’s words: “West Street was an address known to all of the ballet dancers during that time, for the studio of Vera Volkova was located there. The list of dancers who studied with her is enormous. All of the Sadler’s Wells principal dancers passed through her studio. Fonteyn owed this teacher a great debt. Class with Vera was quite an experience. She was a small, thin, dark haired woman with a magnetic personality. You found yourself doing things you had not imagined. When I first saw her in teaching garb, I could not help but laugh. She wore a black skirt, but under that she wore blue stockings. The ‘ladies of the night’ who surround the central sculpture in Piccadilly Circus wore blue stockings- it was their trademark. Vera seldom stood to teach. She was very verbal, but she also demonstrated with those lovely slim long legs. She had a lot to say, and we listened.”
New Opportunities
Within a day of leaving the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, David appeared at the office of the Metropolitan Ballet Company, requesting an audition. In a letter dated May 27, 1947 and signed by Leon Hepner (founder of the company), David was notified of an audition class to be held at the Theatre Royal in Nottingham. He auditioned with Victor Gsovsky, a teacher and choreographer with the Metropolitan Ballet. The audition led to a contract. David joined the company on June 2, 1947 in Birmingham, England and performed with the company on their summer tour. David was relieved and excited about this new opportunity to dance: “No problems with costumes there. I was almost average height. I had a job and I had money. I was a touring British dancer. I was accepted by the company very quickly as a dancer and a friend.”
After the summer tour with the Metropolitan Ballet, David received another letter, dated August 1, 1947, requesting a renewal of his contract. The new contract was to provide a weekly salary of 7 pounds. The letter mentioned that the recent tour had been successful artistically but unsuccessful financially. This had resulted in a slight cut to the weekly salaries for the dancers. However, even with this reduction, David was earning more than he had received from Sadler’s Wells.
The letter was signed by the new manager and director, Cecilia Blatch (to the right). According to Terry Hayworth, a former dancer with the Metropolitan Ballet during that time, Cecilia Blatch had lost a child and was not well as a result of this. Her husband gave her 20,000 pounds to compensate for her loss and she used this money to finance the company. Eventually, the British Council came to the aid of the company after they had run out of money by the end of their Scandinavian tour in the fall of 1948, just before David headed back to Canada.
Touring the British Isles
David described what it was like to tour in those days: “The Metropolitan Ballet was a touring company- a week in each place with eight shows a week. Touring in the provinces was, in itself, a full time effort. I learned the rigors, but also the satisfaction of those repeated performances. Each week a new town, each day a new audience.”
David wrote about the “digs” he and the other dancers had to put up with. In his words: “Rationing had ended in Canada right after World War 2. The British were still living with it. On tour, you took your ration book and your clothing book- the latter in case you happened to have a few pennies left over. You stayed in digs, or boarding houses. If you were lucky, the fee would supply breakfast and an evening meal. The ration book was given to the landlady when you arrived so that she could buy the rations for the week. Just occasionally, however, she would take more than she was supposed to from the ration book. You could re-coop your loss, but it was a long process and was often not possible. Not being familiar with the British provinces, I had to depend on my fellow dancers to find digs. I remember very vividly being with a couple of dancers and walking for hours until something appropriate could be found. That day I learned about bed bugs. We knocked on a door and one of the dancers would step inside, take a deep breath, then back away. ‘No, thank you. We will keep looking.’ Why, I asked. ‘Because I smelled bed bugs’, came the reply.
Fortunately, I never did experience bed bugs, but there was another enemy that could not be smelled- fleas. Yes, little red creatures that plagued all of us. Once, when I had returned to London after a long tour, I opened my suitcase and saw some fleas hop out. It took a few days to get rid of them. How did I do it? I got into bed at night and waited. When they bit me, I grabbed them and flushed them down the toilet.”
Some other unpleasant realities of touring during that time, according to the research David’s daughter Janine has done, included: having only one bath per week, cold water in the theatre showers, washing clothes in that water and hoping they would dry, and paying for electric heaters that would work just long enough to get undressed and into bed. Those were the days!
Dancing Roles and Influential Teachers/Choreographers with the Metropolitan Ballet
David was impressed with the quality of the dancers and choreographers in this company. In his words: “The company was a small but fascinating group. Colette Marchand and Serge Perrault were dancing with us when I joined. Marchand was to be seen later in the film Moulin Rouge, about Toulouse Lautrec. Others included Paul Gnatt from Denmark, a very young Erik Bruhn (Danish-born), Sonia Arova, Celia Franca (dancer and ballet mistress for the company), John Taras (American choreographer), Alexandra Kalioujny, and the15 year old Svetlana Beriosova. Our repertoire was a combination of classics and contemporary choreography.”
In its early years, the company performed mainly small ballets, originally choreographed by Letty Littlewood, and taken from the previous company’s repertoire. David danced in some works he had never seen before, which he described as: “some good, some not so good. Caprice Viennois and Picnic left much to be desired, but Dances from Galanta and Pygmalion, created by Victor Gsovsky were on quite a different level.” Victor Gsovsky, according to an article from The Dancing Times (Feb.1947) was considered to be “an asset to the company- an inspired teacher and “maitre de ballet” who was able to impart some sort of discipline and feeling to the “corps de ballet” and had the ability to draw out the potential of the dancers. His choreography in Dances from Galanta and Pygmalion demonstrated his inventiveness as a choreographer in two different styles.”
David description of this man gives us a slightly different perspective on the important role he played: “Victor Gsovsky was teaching classes when I joined the Metropolitan Ballet. When he was sober, he gave an excellent class.” In a more serious tone, David also recalled that Gsovsky had a musical approach to technique, was highly innovative and creative, and challenged David with his instruction, acting as a kind of mentor to him.
John Percival, a prominent British dance critic, wrote an article for Dance and Dancers Magazine (February,1960), in which he analyzes the value of the company in the development of British dance. The article is entitled Backward Glances: The Metropolitan Ballet and the following is an excerpt from the article: “This company played an important part in British ballet and in forming many of today’s leading artists…the company had a spirit about it which evoked so warm a response from its dancers and its audiences that it is still thought of with affection.” Later on in the article, Percival describes the promise of two young men from the company, one of whom was “the boisterously ebullient David Adams.”
David’s early roles with the company included: Anatol in Caprice Viennois (1948) and Henry in the comical ballet Picnic. According to a review from 1948, “David Adams seized all his miming opportunities in the amusing Picnic.”
Michael Crabb (dance critic for The Toronto Star in Canada) wrote a series of articles for Dance Collection Danse (a Canadian dance archival organization based in Toronto) entitled David Adams-His Dance Through Life. In Part 1 of this series, he mentioned that David’s gift for learning choreography quickly helped him get some prominent roles with the Metropolitan Ballet: “Adams even memorized roles he was not cast to perform. When the lead in Victor Gsovsky’s Dances of Galanta was injured, Adams was soon able to step into the role and make it his own.”
Dances of Galanta– a character ballet based on Polish folklore, with music by Kodaly, featured four couples. David danced the lead male role with Celia Franca. Reflecting on this early connection with Franca, David wrote: “My time with the Metropolitan Ballet ended with Celia Franca teaching company classes. Little did we know at that time how long our association would last.” They would, of course, reunite in 1951, when Franca invited David to join the National Ballet of Canada.
Some other significant performances for David during his time with the company were the ballets in which he danced with the young legendary Svetlana Beriosova, Lithuanian- British prima ballerina who was to dance with the Royal Ballet for over 20 years. They danced together in Faniciulla delle Rose, choreographed by Frank Staff with music by Arensky. David had some good things to say about Frank Staff, who had danced with Ballet Rambert and choreographed some ballets for the Metropolitan Ballet in 1947-48. “His work was very carefully constructed, with the abilities of the dancers taken into consideration. He gave me a new and expanded dimension to my picture of ballet.”
According to an article from the Daily Telegraph (written in November, 1948), Faniciulla delle Rose “is about a young girl who, on her way to her devotions, is interrupted by adventures with the seven deadly sins in succession. Svetlana Beriosova was the gracefully pathetic heroine of the piece.” David danced the role of Lechery. He received a mixed review from one of the dance critics of that time. Quoting an excerpt from this review by P.W.M. (source unknown): “Amongst the many promising young dancers, David Adams stands out for a catlike softness allied to power which should make him a formidable contestant for classical honours in a few years. Meanwhile, he must ‘grow a neck’ and keep his shoulders down. The Metropolitan Ballet is still only in process of developing a personality of its own, yet it is good to see a company who seems to dance for the joy of dancing rather than from a conscientious sense of duty. May they long keep this joy in their work.”
David and Svetlana also danced together in the ballet Designs With Strings, choreographed by John Taras in 1948. It was set to the music of Tchaikovsky’s Trio in A minor and was the first British ballet choreographed by an American. According to David, the ballet is best described as a Balanchine influenced work (referring to the choreographer George Balanchine- one of the most influential American ballet choreographers of the 20th century) According to David, the choreographer John Taras was a typical American, with a great sense of humour who enjoyed his work. At first, the company was not aware of how special his choreography was until it became popular. His style was very modern for this period. David and Svetlana both danced principal roles in this ballet (David to the right in the photo).
Quoting David: “It was originally called Designs With Strings, but later (when it was later performed by the Royal Ballet) became Design With Strings. John worked very closely with Svetlana Beriosova and myself on this ballet. He took our suggestions without allowing us free reign. It was a combined effort. The ballet was an enormous success for John Taras, Svetlana and myself. The ballet lives to this day.”
Designs With Strings was warmly received by audiences and critics alike. According to David, the legend of Svetlana and himself became famous throughout the British Isles and Scandinavia. They danced in this ballet together again in the 1970s, when the Royal Ballet adopted it as part of their repertoire. Just before David returned to Canada in September of 1948, his girlfriend Ursula Hewlett (former dancer with the Metropolitan Ballet) gave him an autograph book with personal messages from various dancers from the company. Svetlana’s message to David was: “Dear David, Thank you! For helping me, for always being extremely ‘with me’, for your friendship and also for being so sad to leave our adored Faniciulla and Designs. I’ll be seeing you!”
Le Spectre de la Rose
Although David had watched many productions of classical ballets (and likely memorized a good deal of the choreography) while he was training with the Sadler’s Wells Company, he had not yet had the opportunity to dance a lead classical role. During rehearsals for the Metropolitan Ballet’s upcoming production of Le Spectre de la Rose (The Spirit of the Rose), David expressed his interest in dancing the lead role. The short ballet is about a young girl who dreams of dancing with the spirit of a souvenir rose from her first ball. It was originally choreographed by Michel Fokine in 1911. The famous dancer Vaslav Nijinsky (cited as the greatest male dancer of the 20th century) danced the lead role in the first production of this ballet in April of 1911. The performance was a great success and the ballet became internationally famous for the leap Nijinsky made through a window at the ballet’s end (source of information: Wikipedia).
David reflected on how excited he was to have been given the opportunity to dance the role of the Spectre (Spirit)in this ballet: “I had been a huntsman in Swan Lake, but my excursion into a real classic solo came with the performance of Spectre de la Rose. I asked to perform the lead and by default achieved it. I had at last danced a Nijinsky role.” At first, David rehearsed the role of the Spectre so that he could be a substitute when necessary, but later performed it several times in 1948, with Ursula Hewlett dancing the part of The Young Girl.
Quoting dance critic Michael Crabb, from the first of his articles on David’s life in dance: “Adams’s impressive jump- Bronislava Nijinska (Vaslav Nijinsky’s sister) later told him its power reminded her of her famous brother- served him well in Fokine’s Spectre de la Rose.”
A review of the Metropolitan Ballet from The Dancing Times(December, 1947) stated: “This company is to be congratulated on the brave spirit in which they stage short original ballets, thus giving the public, who are learning to enjoy this type of performance, a wide and varied view of the work.”
Special Performances (Summer of 1948)
On June 25 (1948), David performed in a televised version of The Nutcracker ballet, which was broadcast from the Alexandra Palace in London, England. What a fantastic experience this must have been for him to have been dancing on the same stage as Alicia Markova and Anton Dolin, founders of London Festival Ballet- a company David would later join in the 1960s. David made the following comment: “Yes, the British had TV in 1948, and I was there.”
The following month (July 19-31,1948), the Metropolitan Ballet performed in a staged masque adaptation of John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress at the Royal Opera House. The company danced in various scenes, choreographed by Andrée Howard. In an interview with former dancer, Terry Hayworth, he informed me that it was the first time the company had performed at the Royal Opera House and the dancers were paid reasonably well.
Scandinavian Tour
On August 3, 1948, the company travelled by boat to Stockholm, Sweden. Apparently, a humorous incident occurred just as they were boarding the ship: “When the Company were ready to sail, it was discovered that three of the passengers were not included in the ship’s passenger list, and nothing would induce the maritime authorities to permit them on board. With the two others, 16-year-old Svetlana Beriozova was left sitting on the quayside while the Director-General of the company stormed up the gangway. Finally, the three dancers took matters into their own hands, pushed their way past the authorities with just enough time to leap on the already moving gangway.” (source unknown)
Quoting from another article from the Birmingham Mail (November, 1948), “the company’s youthful director general, Cecilia Blatch, organized the movement of a company of 42 dancers, stage and management staff and some eight tons of scenery and costumes, and also acted as mother to the company. Not only had she legally to adopt the younger members, but she personally nursed the dancers who were laid low in their cabins during the worst crossing experienced by the Swedish steamship lines for years.”
The tour included several performances at various locations in Sweden- including Stockholm, Norrkoping, Malmo, Helsingborg and Gothenburg- followed by ten performances at the Norske Theatre in Oslo, Norway. According to the press at that time, there had not been a British ballet company in Stockholm for several years. Financing for this tour proved to be a challenge for the director. However, she ultimately claimed sole responsibility for the venture. Quoting Jean Tucker, from her article British Ballet- Debut in Scandinavia (November, 1948): “Vague possibilities of financial assistance from the Arts Council are hardly a firm basis for touring a company of over forty and when financial aid was not forthcoming, Mrs. Blatch made her own plans for giving Norway and Sweden their first taste of British ballet.”
David described the company’s financial predicament in a slightly different way: “In Sweden, we had the dubious pleasure of having the impresario run off with the money. The owners of the company came to our rescue, but we had a week of ‘catch as catch can’. One must experience these things.”
David sent a postcard to his British host Cyril Wallace from Sweden. On the front of the card is a picturesque view of a 1940s constructed viaduct approach to the south side of Stockholm from The Old Town. On the back of the card, David wrote: “We are having a wonderful time here. More food than you have ever seen in your life, but at a price. Living is very expensive here. My regards to all, David.”
David elaborated on the abundance of food while touring Sweden in his writings: “Eating in Sweden, after the rationing in England, was an experience in itself. Sweden had it all. We did receive some ration coupons when we arrived, but the portions allowed were far ahead of what Britain offered. We made ourselves quite ill.” He went on to describe Stockholm as the “Venice of the north”, with the canals and atmosphere of Venice, but without the smells.
With the touring came some challenges, of course, such as the scarcity of hot water (just like in Britain), adjusting to the language and the occasional transport mishap. According to an excerpt from the article by Jean Tucker quoted previously, “the language difficulty was overcome with a maximum of mime on the dancers’ part and good humour on both sides. There were a few anxious moments when, in Helsingborg, costumes and scenery failed to put in an appearance until an hour before curtain time.”
In his writings, David described the theatre where the company performed in Stockholm as “strange, to say the least. It was called Cirkus, and that is what it was- like the Lautrec paintings of the circus, with the performers in the middle and the audience around them. For us, the centre was filled with seats and one wall became the stage. The moment we arrived we knew that animals had been there the week before.” David went on to describe the Skanzen (zoo) up the hill from the theatre: “I saw something there that made my flesh creep. There were the usual zoo animals, but one section was devoted to rats, from all over the world. One cage had Paris sewer rats. They were the size of a beaver, with teeth to match. I thought back to the stories I had read about the French Revolution- stories about torture using sewer rats. UGH! I have seen rats in many parts of the world since, but none to match the French sewer rat.”
In contrast to this, a comical adventure experienced by the company was described to the public after they had returned home from their tour: “Day after their first night in Stockholm, the whole company were driven in a haycart decorated with birch bark and flowers to the luxurious lakeside home of Swedish magnate Bertil Dymling. The carts tore at such break-neck speed up and down the mountainside that even Kalioujny- principal dancer of the Paris Opera who had been loaned for the tour and is accustomed to the erratic progression of Parisian taxis- was scared out of his wits! He demonstrated an Olympian endurance by jumping off the wagon and running alongside the cart for the rest of the journey.” (source unknown)
Amongst David’s collection of memorabilia from this time is an invitation from a Swedish Count. It reads: “Count Fred C. (not sure of the exact spelling) requests the pleasure of your presence at a supper after the performance at the Opera Terrace on Thursday the 12th of August. Some Swedish dancers will be happy to meet you.” What an honour it must have been for David to attend such an event!
After the opulence of Sweden, the company continued their Scandinavian tour in Norway. From David’s perspective, the situation in Norway was dramatically different than in Sweden: “Sweden had been neutral during the war; Norway had been occupied. Oslo had not really been damaged but they had little food, no clothes and no amenities. We could eat fish- lots of fish, cream cakes to keep the morale up, and drink beer. The coffee was made from acorns, a favourite German trick. I once had a whale steak, which tasted like liver with the texture of beef. Oslo was filled with stores, department stores, but there was nothing in the windows. We saw the full results of the war. It was sad.
One incident annoyed me. We were invited to the home of a British representative in Oslo for a party. We thought we were in Sweden since they had everything- food, drink, you name it- and just outside, the people had nothing. It was not to be the last time I saw things like that.”
All in all, the Scandinavian tour was highly successful for the Metropolitan Ballet. Quoting Jean Tucker’s article again from November of 1948: “In spite of the fact that Swedish audiences are considered undemonstrative, an overwhelming reception of twenty-four curtain calls greeted the Company in Stockholm. They danced in concert halls as well as theatres and gave, in all, thirty-nine performances. The classics again proved themselves the most popular items in the repertoire and the new Designs With Strings was high in popularity, although humorous ballets were not so well received. When the company returned to England tired (thirty-nine parties in twenty-one days gives some idea of Scandinavian hospitality) but well satisfied with their generous reception, they carried with them invitations to return as soon as possible to Copenhagen, which they hope to do early next year.”
It was obvious that the company had a great time socializing as well as dancing on this tour. Terry Hayworth (former dancer with the company) recalled that he and his friend met David and his girlfriend Ursula Hewlett at a cheap restaurant outside the Cirkus Theatre in Stockholm. He remembered David being fond of the girls and mixing well with everyone, always eager to have a good time.
Translating an excerpt from a Swedish review of that time: “A real dancer is David Adams, who has a burning idealistic vision of dance. He comes from Canada and has left his home and Fatherland in order to dance with the Metropolitan Ballet.” After the Scandinavian tour, David tried to prepare himself emotionally for his imminent return to Canada. In his words: “When we left Sweden, I knew that I was on my way back to Canada. My passage on the Ascania had been booked from Winnipeg. I would be leaving this group of people that I had become so fond of. I would be leaving behind my beloved Designs With Strings.” Cecilia Blatch, director of the Metropolitan Ballet at that time, wrote the following entry in David’s autograph book before he left England: “To David- one of my original ‘Met children’- he came and for a long time did not see much but eventually conquered all. Come back to us soon.” (14th September, 1948) David’s girlfriend (photo right) at that time wrote this message inside the front cover of the book: “Darling, may it hold many happy memories. With so much love from Ursula.” David’s memories of his time with the Metropolitan Ballet were, indeed, happy ones.
Cecilia Blatch, director of the Metropolitan Ballet at that time, wrote the following entry in David’s autograph book before he left England: “To David- one of my original ‘Met children’- he came and for a long time did not see much but eventually conquered all. Come back to us soon.” (14th September, 1948) David’s girlfriend (photo right) at that time wrote this message inside the front cover of the book: “Darling, may it hold many happy memories. With so much love from Ursula.” David’s memories of his time with the Metropolitan Ballet were, indeed, happy ones.
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