On the opening night of Orpheus in 1947:
“When the slight figure of Stravinsky appeared at the conductor’s sand he was given a tumultuous ovation. A few minutes later, obedient to Stravinsky’s baton, the now well-known soft, plaintive notes of the short introduction became audible, and Orpheus was on. […]
“The plot of the ballet was as simple as the legend of Orpheus itself: Orpheus, mourning the death of his wife Eurydice, accepts the suggestion of the Dark Angel to follow Eurydice to Hades and lead her away, but never to look back at her. At the last moment Orpheus cannot resist the temptation to look at his beloved Eurydice. Eurydice falls dead and is swallowed up by the Hadean forces. Orpheus is tortured to death by the Bacchantes. The ball tends with a touching apotheosis during which Apollo sings the praises of Orpheus, the poet and lover. […]
“Magallanes was Orpheus; Tallchief, Eurydice; Moncion, the Dark Angel; Bliss, Apollo. […]
“In Broadway parlance, Orpheus was a smash hit. There was a seemingly unending ovation for the dancers, for Balanchine, for Stravinsky, for Noguchi. The audience applauded, stamped, shouted. Everyone, dancer and spectator, was very happy.
—The New York City Ballet by Anatole Chujoy (affiliate link)
(left & right) Nicholas Magallanes and Maria Tallchief.
(center) (L-R) Moncion, Magallanes, Tallchief.
Photo by Fred Fehl, 1948.
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Maria Tallchief on the creation of Orpheus:
“In the ballet I was to play Eurydice opposite Nicky Magallanes’s Orpheus. George worked very lyrical movements into my choreography, and the role contained no pyrotechnics […] During one rehearsal we showed Mr. Stravinsky the Orpheus-Eurydice pas de deux. At the end of it, Nicky tore off his mask and looked at me. I collapsed on his shoulder, slide down his body, landed at his feet, and died. Suddenly, Mr. Stravinsky spoke up. ‘Maria, how long will it take you to die?’ I was still on the floor and looked up at him. ‘It must be a count of five,’ he said. So I got up again and counted out loud as I went through the movements again. It was a slow five counts.
“‘Good,’ he said, and a silent fermata was written in the score. The night of the premiere while he was conducting, Stravinsky didn’t look up from the pit while I was dying. He counted five slow beats of silence and went right into Nicky’s music.”
— Maria Tallchief: America’s Prima Ballerina (affiliate link)
(right) Maria Tallchief.
(left) Nicholas Magallanes and Maria Tallchief.
Photo by George Platt Lynes, 1948.
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