Isadora Duncan: Touched by Terpsicore


“The dancer’s body is simply the luminous manifestation of the soul.
The true dance is an expression of serenity;
it is controlled by the profound rhythm of inner emotion.
Emotion does not reach the moment of frenzy out of a spurt of action;
it broods first, it sleeps like the life in the seed,
and it unfolds with a gentle slowness.
The Greeks understood the continuing beauty of a movement
that mounted, that spread, that ended with a promise of rebirth.” Isadora Duncan

I’ve been fascinated with the 1920s since I was a little kid and delighted in the occasional Chaplin film on cable, so it’s not at all surprising that I’d come across the career of Isadora Duncan.

Duncan is regarded as the creator of Modern Dance (though in dance communities, this is sometimes hotly debated). While Modern Dance performances are clearly similar to ballet in some ways, the Modern Dance movement in the early 1900s was born from a distaste that many dancers had with what they perceived as a rigidity and “unnatural movement” in classical ballet. While there are now several schools of Modern Dance, Duncan’s dance was based on the dance depicted in ancient Hellenic pottery, sculpture, Graeco-Roman mosaics and neo-Classical Renaissance art and sculpture.

If we seek the real source of the dance, if we go to nature, we find that the dance of the future is the dance of the past, the dance of eternity, and has been and always will be the same… The movement of waves, of winds, of the earth is ever the same lasting harmony.” Isadora Duncan

Though she did have formal teachers giving her a background in classical dance, she ultimately rejected much of this training for improvisation and a sort of Neo-Pagan Romanticism. She once famously proclaimed that the Goddess Aphrodite Herself taught Ms Duncan in the art of dance on the beaches of California.

Her parents were once wealthy, but became rather poor shortly after Isadora’s birth, when her father lost his bank; her parents later divorced when she was seven-years-old. The experience of growing up impoverished, she and her mother and sister giving music and dance lessons to support the family, likely bred her Communist ideals, which would later lead her to defect to Russia. In spite of gaining Russian citizenship, she lived her last years in France, as well as a significant portion of her life prior.

“There are likewise three kinds of dancers: first, those who consider dancing as a sort of gymnastic drill, made up of impersonal and graceful arabesques; second, those who, by concentrating their minds, lead the body into the rhythm of a desired emotion, expressing a remembered feeling or experience. And finally, there are those who convert the body into a luminous fluidity, surrendering it to the inspiration of the soul.” ~Isadora Duncan

Despite being clearly a subversive influence on the world of artistic dance, she never completely fit in with Bohemian crowds, but her free-spiritedness and natural draw to shake up convention kept her from truly assimilating into high society. In some respects, her nature could be seen as Dionysian.

Though posthumously, she’s been idealised by some as a sort of radical femme-inist of the school of “sisters doin’ for themselves” because her dance schools were famously all-girl, early on she sought to include boys amongst her pupils of dance and philosophy, but ultimately, it was financiers who made the decision for her single-sex education in dance, and men trained in a lineage that can be traced back to Isadora Duncan herself, while increasing in number, are still rare; I know of only one male dancer to have ever been directly taught by Duncan herself. While examinations of her personal life definitely show many feminist sympathies (and also a bisexual with at least one noteworthy and passionate affair with another woman), she refrained from identifying her socio-political ideaologies as anything more than Communist, Socialist, or Marxist, which is easily argued to be inherently feminist, if not explicitly, much less radically so. The ultimate downfall of her schools, though, was her idealism; even her school in Moscow at a time of the early days of Russia’s totalitarian form of Communism suffered financially because the state had not yet made a suitable provision for the arts that could keep the school afloat, and Duncan was so firm in her belief that commercial performances cheapened the artistry she taught students to value, that she’d just as soon close a school left in the charge of a star pupil than tolerate her students performing on a commercial stage. In honour of her value of art over money, Duncan legacy dance troupes are largely non-profit.

Love is an illusion; it is the world’s greatest mistake. I ought to know for I’ve been loved as no other woman of my time has been loved. -Isadora Duncan

Her style of dance she always stressed to be very natural in its approach to the movements of the body, and improv is a major element to Duncan’s style of modern dance (though the choreography is often surprisingly intricate). Emotion and the expression of through the whole body with dance is another defining characteristic of Duncan’s style. Unlike ballet, which tends to place greater value on women dancers who are especially light-weight, and often with an unspoken mantra of “the lighter the better”, Duncan dance values any body that can move with the natural grace and convey the emotions integral to a piece; though this often means fans of ballet and some other dance regard Duncan dancers as “fat” and “out-of-shape”, the inherent athleticism in Duncan dance illustrate that Duncan dance not only keeps one in good physical condition, but also that the movements celebrate all shapes and sizes of graceful. Typically performing in bare feet, hops, skips, leaps, and arm movements tend to be regarded as the most basic elements of Duncan dancing, and Grecian-inspired dance costume is clearly preferred by Duncan herself, and those continuing to dance in her lineage.

The only surviving / known film taken of her dancing is not only extremely short, but clearly gives more attention to Isadora’s costume adjustment than her dance, which is shown as little more than a few hops. The circumstances under which this film was shot, I do not know; it’s likely that it was an experiment taken by a friend, or perhaps setting up the equipment took so long she had become tired. This is certainly not representative of the great dancer that shook up the art world and caused a sensation in the Early Twentieth. For more representitive video, there is no shortage of video of dancers of the Isadora Duncan legacy.

Interestingly, for all of Duncan’s glorifications of the Greeks, Aphrodite, Eros, the Moisai, the Khairetes, and all her applause for the wisdom of the Greeks and the inherent natural beauty of her reconstructed Greco-Roman dance, the music she selected, and that is still popular with dancers of the Duncan legacy, is movements by Romantic composers, and often music not written with dance performances in mind. This rather odd choice, all things considered, still lends to a graceful and beautiful interpretation of the music, I can’t help but wish to see Duncan dance performed with reconstructed Greco-Roman music.

Off the stage, Duncan was a flamboyant character, being practically immune to the typical ill effects of scandal, and a well-regarded eccentric. She rejected Christianity for Classical and Neitzchian philosophy, eagerly entertained Romantic Neo-Pagan imagery of her own character, and often read tarot cards for friends, strangers, and herself. Still, for all her fabulous life, it was marked with great tragedy; her marriages ended bitterly, her children died in a tragic automobile accident, her own life cut short when her excessively long scarf she regarded as something of a trademark wrapped around the axle of her Amilcar, choking her, then snapping her neck, then nearly dragging her body down the street just as her lover realised what was wrong. She died at fifty, but not before leaving an indelible impression on not only dance, but all of the arts (having inspired painters and sculptors).

Correcting Aphrodite’s Navel

Aphrodite
According to Hesiod’s Theogony, she was born when Cronus cut off genitals of Uranus and threw them into the sea, and from the sea foam (aphros) arose Aphrodite.

Venus
In myth, Venus-Aphrodite was born of sea-foam. Roman theology presents Venus as the yielding, watery female principle, essential to the generation and balance of life.

If the goddess was born from sea foam, why has she belly button?

…………………………………………………………..

Αφροδίτη
Σύμφωνα με τη Θεογονία του Ησίοδου, ​​που γεννήθηκε όταν ο Κρόνος κόψει τα γεννητικά όργανα του Ουρανού και τα πέταξε στη θάλασσα, και από τον αφρό της θάλασσας (aphros) γεννήθηκε η Αφροδίτη.

Αφροδίτη
Στο μύθο, την Αφροδίτη γεννήθηκε από τη θάλασσα-αφρού. Ρωμαϊκή θεολογία παρουσιάζει την Αφροδίτη, όπως το αποδίδει, υδαρής θηλυκής αρχής, που είναι απαραίτητες για την παραγωγή και την ισορροπία της ζωής.

Αν η θεά γεννήθηκε από αφρό της θάλασσας, Γιατί είναι ο ομφαλός?

Cute video (and the description posted with it) that was sent to me in a comment by “laura noname”. Love it! Personally, I’ve always kind of wondered this, myself, as while this certainly isn’t the only mythology of Aphrodite’s birth, it’s certainly the most prevailing and popular version.

Πανδημος: Aphrodite the Red

I often see reconstructionists of various tribe advocating a political persuasion that’s neo-conservative or outright Fascist (for the record, though, I’m not counting “radical traditionalism” as either, since the bare bones of that philosophy is social and can easily be applied to just about any political creed1). While the most discussed interpretation of Aphrodite Pandemos, “Aphrodite of All People”, is that of one in contrast to Aphrodite Urania, “Heavenly Aphrodite”, with implications (if not outright statements) that the Divine and the Material are two sides of a coin, always separate faces, never intermingling. I say this is a false dichotomy, for if the Heavenly does not regularly insert itself into the material, then what right do human beings even have to worship deities in the ancient way? Why don’t Hellenists just disregard the material world as so irreparably wicked that we must prostrate ourselves before bitter Deities and beg Their salvation? This is where I tend to see Platonism as “like Christianity, only not”, cos it lends itself too well to that sort of “logic”, and as a priest of Eros, I see no real separation between the Divine and the Material, it’s all interwoven together in the great tapestry, so positing a dichotomous Aphrodite Pandemos/Urania will ultimately fall apart because of a third side called reality, and then you realise that reality isn’t sided like a coin or a die, but faceted, like a crystal or cut gemstone.

But I don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater, either, and I see another interpretation of Aphrodite of All People: She is the uniter, the community organiser, charismatic leader, and the radical. She’s the Populist, not the Individualist, and so is very easily at home with Socialism, Democracy, and other Populist parties — including Right Wing Populism.

The Πανδημος/Pandemos epithet is also shared with Eros, and so I suppose it would be hard to find a dedicated Aphroditian who is also a dedicated Libertarian, if not impossible. These are unselfish deities with Their gifts, and so the appeal of individualism and elitism would not lend easily to Their lessons. Though not exactly in a pro-Marxist light, populism and anti-aristocracy themes were prominent in the founding of The Church of Aphrodite.


1: And for the record, I don’t identify as RadTrad, either, oh no, I’m far too much of a modernist, but I’m just saying that after careful examination from the outside for the last few years, I’ve been able to see that philosophy for what it is: a benign far-fringe social movement endorsed by some decent people, and some not so much. As a Derek Jarman fan, I’d encountered the term long before I was aware that it had anything to do with modern polytheist movements, though he’d never personally self-applied the term. In fact, I find it bizarre that critics and fans of Jarman apply the term to him at all, since while I suppose his penchant for re-claiming history is certainly “radical”, and one could argue that his clear British identity is “traditional”, his family had a holiday property in the Mediterranean, growing up, and he also identified with the Mediterranean, and his methods of reclaiming history and tradition was anything but traditional. He was a complex hodge-podge of traditional and modernist, if anything.

Ακιδαλια

ACIDA′LIA, a surname of Venus (Virg. Aen. i. 720), which according to Servius was derived from the well Acidalius near Orchomenos, in which Venus used to bathe with the Graces; others connect the name with the Greek akides, i. e. cares or troubles.

I was looking through epithets for this post, to see if there was something specific to Boeotia that hasn’t been touched on a thousand times before, and this really struck me. It struck me in the same way that the famous Praxitelian Eros of Thespiai described centuries after it ceased drawing crows from all over the Hellenosphere as “Love as Suffering”.

How often is it that love leaves us troubled and shattered? Conflicted? Paranoid?

This is further why I reject the modern syncretisation of Aphrodite with Eirene, as love seldom brings peace on even a personal level, so whoever first assumed it could bring peace on a global level clearly doesn’t strike me as one who has ever been in love.

Even requited love is not without its heartache, and the Moirai have left us with no shortage of evidence of lovers who die young, lovers who fall out of love with us, lovers who hurt us in all sorts of ways.

…and if not directly, trouble comes indirectly: Relationships with friends are all too often forever changed, the approval or disproval of family members has been the subject of many a thesis, for some of us our work suffers, and for others our art suffers. Love can be a distraction, and some have suggested that a key element to intellectual brilliance is to remain unloved, or to never fall in love.

To far too many people I’ve known, there appears no real evolutionary advantage to our wide range of emotions, and if not for other traits, they imagine our emotions would’ve been so distracting that we’d at least be further down on the food chain. I reject this notion, and suggest that for as troublesome as our emotions are, they have saved us just as much. The only other species that comes close to displaying near the range of emotion as human beings is the elephant, so advanced in its emotional development that it’s the only creature aside from humans that has rituals for its dead, and it will extend this ritual to humans who have lived around them for years — but I digress. Without this wide scope of feeling, our pre-historic ancestors would’ve been less inclined to look out for our young and familial adults, reducing the power and safety of numbers, whereas a lion is no more likely to protect members of her pride than she is to just let them go to a larger animal on the attack. Pigs are lauded as fairly intelligent, but even if in packs, are pretty much out for only their own hides. Even whales don’t go to the lengths to protect their young and others of their species that human beings do. It’s our emotions which save us from outside threats, from each-other, and from ourselves, so clearly the trouble is worth it.