Alain Daniélou and dance (1927-1937)

“I understand that you’re looking for something quite different from us in your dance. Whereas we’re looking for a more decorative and symbolic form, you’re looking for a direct expression of human feelings and natural forces. I think I understand the intensity of your expression.”

Comment by Nobel Prize-winning poet Rabindranath Tagore (1913), following Alain Daniélou’s presentation of his dance repertoire. School of Shantiniketan (Bengal), 1930s.

I was greatly attracted to dance, which allowed me to exteriorize musical feeling, as well as indulge inthe narcissistic dream of manifesting my physical harmony. In the Christian world, dance is the only domain in which the human body can be worshipped and glorified;  sports  in those days did not have the spectacular element they have now. When I was fifteen, I was already making attempts at interpretation and doing rigorous flexibility exercises. When I showed some of these efforts to my friends, they encouraged me to perfect my technique. As soon as I had the chance, I went to see all the ballets that came to Paris. I saw the Russian and Swedish ballets, but also performances by the German school, Laban and Mary Wigman.

By a stroke of luck, the daughters of Bronislava Nijinska happened to be students at Sainte Marie, My mother found this lady not only respectable but quite famous, which counted for a lot, so she made no real objection when her unpredictable son went to find Nijinska. I was already twenty, which seemed a bit late to begin a career in dancing. Nijinska however took an interest in me and sent me to Legat, Nijinska’s famous teacher, who was giving classes in the Wacker studio on the Place Clichy. Later, during my brief stint in the Navy, I was transferred from Toulon to Paris and immediately enrolled in Legat’s class. It was a period of very intense work. Within a few years, I acquired a fairly good classical technique. My double spins in the air were impeccable; my entrechats-six easy and fluid, and my jetés-battus quite elegant. Outside of class, I practiced to the point of exhaustion for several hours a day. I also took classes in acrobatic dance at the Saulnier Gymnasium in Montmartre, along with the girls from the famous quadrille at the Moulin-Rouge. The atmosphere there was wonderful, the people infinitely kind and helpful towards one another. I learned to respect  the profoundly human qualities of these so-called lost women, so different from the frustrated and perfidious young ladies of good society who had always terrified me, or those enigmatic “demoiselles” who flocked around my mother,