European modern dance continues to attract stubbornly independent performers and choreographers. Nevertheless, in examining their backgrounds it is often possible to establish lines of descent and to trace them back to the art's pioneers. Two major figures, however, exerted little direct influence. Loïe Fuller (b. Chicago 1862-1928) and Maud Allan, (b. LA, 1873-1956) who secretly resented Isadora Duncan. Although a prominent presence on the French culture scene, Fuller developed no school of technique or choreography. Neither did Allan, despite the fact that she made sporadic efforts to teach. Indeed, most of her life until she died in 1956 involved a slow slipping into obscurity.

Isadora Duncan

Isadora Duncan (b. San Francisco 1877-1927) in contrast, continued to arouse controversy. In 1921, she accepted an invitation to direct a school in the Soviet Union. Russian intellectuals had long admired her, and she had contemplated opening a Russian school as early as 1908. Moreover, many officials of the new Soviet government sought to be as revolutionary in art and education as they were with their politics. So it is no wonder that Duncan arrived in Moscow with high expectations.

Duncan responded eagerly to the new society that surrounded her. Several of her dances reflected her enthusiasm. Warshavianka, set to a revolutionary song, had dancers falling in battle, yet always managing to pass the banner of liberation to the next in line. In her interpretation of the Internationale, the Communist national anthem, Duncan gestured as if summoning the masses. She also startled the masses watching her in the theatre by baring her left breast to symbolize a nursing mother giving strength to her children.

Like many idealists of the time, Duncan hoped that communism might free humanity from poverty and oppression. However, although she may have been starry-eyed, she most certainly was not blind to the realities she encountered. Thus she was appalled to find, at a time of economic hardship when many ordinary citizens were on the brink of starvation, that some Soviet bureaucrats were living with an opulence, associated with the deposed aristocrats.

Russian art and theatre after the revolution was often wildly experimental. Modern dance groups were formed and some radicals wished to abolish ballet altogether. They regarded it as a remnant of a degenerate tsarist regime. However, such bold choreographers as Fedor Lopukhov and Kasian Goleizovsky in the 1920s, sought to prove that ballet was capable of reform. Today ballet remains Russias leading form of theatrical dance.

Problems bedeviled Duncan as teacher and school director. For one thing she spoke Russian badly and essentially taught by demonstrating. When she needed to make an extended commentary, she spoke German to her assistant, Ilya Schneider, who then proceeded to translate her remarks into Russian.

Duncan was by now a middle-aged woman gaining weight. Nevertheless, she continued to appear in gossamer wings with inadequate support or make-up. Alexander Rumnov, an actor who was a great admirer, recalls that "frequently her breast fell out of the chiton. With a gesture full of chastity and grace she would replace it to the murmur of the orchestra seats and the considerable din from the gallery. She treated this as an absolutely natural thing".

Duncan returned to Western Europe in 1922 with a very handsome husband, 18 years her junior. Sergei Esenin was a gifted poet. Duncan's acquaintances were aghast. After all Duncan had always scorned the institution of marriage so it was rumored that the wedding was designed to avoid any scandals that might develop if Duncan and Esenin were know to be living together during her tours. Victor Seroff, Duncan's friend and biographer, had also speculated that Soviet authorities may have recommended the marriage on the basis, that Duncan's famous name might serve as a protection to Esenin and discourage attacks, both physical as well as political, on the militantly communist poet.

The marriage was a catastrophic disaster. Esenin knew no foreign languages and showed no interest in dance and classical music. He was a heavy drinker, known for his violent outbursts.

Duncan and Esenin headed for the United States in 1922, for what proved to be her last American tour. They provoked scandal after scandal. Esenin was rowdy. Duncan outspoken. Interrupting a Boston performance to lecture her audience. She waved a red scarf above her head and shouted, "This is red! So am I!" Then she tore open her tunic to reveal her breasts and cried out, "This - this is beauty!" The mayor forbade her ever to appear in Boston again, and the evangelist Billy Sunday thundered, "That Bolshevik hussy doesn't wear enough clothes to pad a crutch."

Duncan and Esenin returned to Russia in 1923 and formally separated two years later. Esenin committed suicide.

Duncan acquired a studio in Nice in 1926 and proposed spending half the year there and the other half in Moscow. Unfortunately this was not to be. However Duncan was in Nice on the evening of 14th September 1927. A lover of fast cars, she accepted an invitation to go for a ride in a sports car. Wrapping herself in a long shawl, she stepped into the car, proclaiming, "Adieu, mes amis. Je vais á la glorie!" When the car started the end of the shawl became entangled in the spokes of a wheel. Her neck was broken.

Isadora's death was as dramatic as her life had been. Her behaviour was unpredictable and her private life a little untidy. Nevertheless, Isadora Duncan was a great artist. One who did achieve glory as a cultural prophet. If wherever she went she set gossips chattering, she also inspired young people to make their own dances.

As a creative art, Duncanism did not survive Isadora. Her most fervent disciples made an invaluable contribution to dance history by preserving some of her choreography, but most of their own original efforts were of lesser importance.

Isadora was an inspiration, not a model to be copied.