An evening in tribute to Yvette Chauviré

There is an anecdote which often comes to mind. When I took the entrance exam for the Paris Opera Corps de Ballet, Yvette Chauviré was one of the judges. When the time came to list the results, intending to place me at the top of those who were admitted, in a moment of distraction, she listed me among the rejects. That was Yvette Chauviré, - a bit scatter-brained...

Later, she taught me the role of Giselle. As a young Étoile, I was thoroughly intimidated. I felt like a beginner again but she transmitted the role to me very generously. I remember it as a very enriching experience. Throughout my career, she never ceased to advise and help me. I have memories of her in my dressing room after performances of Suite en blanc by Serge Lifar, giving me corrections on my hair, my movements, my carriage. She was like a "petite mère" to me. She was very attentive. I felt I was part of her family. She remains the grand legatee of the Lifar style. And, through her, I have been able to inherit that style.

She had a very developed artistic sense, exceptional refinement and a rare intensity; a very charming quality with considerable elegance but also very witty, somewhere between Greta Garbo and Edwige Feuillère. She had humour and, above all, inspiration. And, more importantly, she inspired others. She remains an example for me, as a person but above all as an artist.

In Fokine’s The Death of the Swan, she was fabulous. Every evening, she offered something different, and always very moving and intelligent. This woman was inspired, she had a wonderful instinct and had acquired such a knowledge of dance that she could allow herself to modify the choreography every evening.

She gave something that many people can’t. During her lessons on style at the Opera, she taught not technique, but artistry. Most of the time, we couldn’t keep up with her. But she showed us the way. We just had to watch her.

Interviewed by Solène Souriau

For me, Yvette Chauviré is Greta Garbo in Queen Christina. She was an extraordinary actress who could take on any role, even masculine ones. A great performer, she knew how to move on stage. She spoke with her legs. It was she who taught me Prince Albrecht and Serge Lifar’s Les Mirages. She had her own vision of every character and everything she showed me concerning the masculine roles I have conserved. A very strong bond developed between us during Les Mirages. In this ballet, the man wants to get rid of his shadow, of his personality. Well, Yvette Chauviré, who was playing the shadow, stuck to you like glue. It was extraordinary.

She was often accused of being egocentric and coquettish. During the lessons on style she gave at the Paris Opera, people often complained that she spent all her time looking at herself in the mirror. But if she looked at her reflection, it was from a desire for perfection, for beauty of line. Through her reflection, she made sure she was giving the correct indications. Ultimately, her teaching worked largely by imitation. It was enough to watch her and to reproduce what you saw. I will always remember her arms: the wings of a swan but also the fragility of Giselle.

In the history of dance, she takes pride of place. A great artist, she embodies the French tradition of the Paris Opera. She was born for dance and will remain in the memories of ballet-lovers as one of the greatest dancers of the 20^th century, if not the greatest.

Interviewed by Solène Souriau

I was present for Yvette Chauviré’s farewell performance in Giselle in 1972, when I was a pupil at the Paris Conservatoire. I realised I was seeing the departure of a great Étoile. She danced with Cyril Atanassoff, whom I, in my turn, was to partner in the same ballet a few years later!

When I joined the Company, she was giving lessons on style in a tiny studio… I can still see us all solemnly waiting for her, and then she would arrive, very elegant as always … she had an incredible presence. I also saw her working extensively with Dominique Khalfouni, then a young Étoile, in Swan Lake, Giselle … it was marvellous to see her carrying her along in her wake! Later, she supervised me for my role in Mirages, before I took inspiration from the interpretation of Nanon Thibon whose physique was closer to mine.

Finally, I enjoyed the privilege of dancing with her on stage. When Rudolf Nureyev arrived at the head of the Ballet in 1983, he wanted Yvette to be present to work with the Étoiles for the premier production of Raymonda. He found it strange that this extraordinary woman should sit at home with all that she had to contribute. He also entrusted her with the role of the Countess of Doris and it was to her that I presented a bouquet of flowers on the opening night. She had danced with Rudolf when he was a very young dancer, and now it was he, in his great generosity, that paid tribute to her.

She was so “sparkling”, with her gracious profile, her slightly upturned nose… That photo by Auber of the Grand Pas classique in which she glances round with a little wink, that was really her: lightness, humour, a very Parisian kind of wit… which did not prevent her from attaining a fabulous lyricism and an astonishing dramatic quality. Ultimately, she was resolutely “French”, with her characteristic en-dehors – the foot-work so typical of our school: a style she made royal, respectable, luminous… Yvette Chauviré brought to the Ballet a refined method of teaching, profoundly human but also very precise and demanding, and obviously very musical. And eminently feminine.

Interviewed by Juliette Puaux

On 22^nd April, Yvette Chauviré would have been 100 years old. An immense artist, ambassadress of the French style, generous, elegant and an excellent teacher, the dancer Étoile left a solid and lasting mark on the Paris Opera Ballet and on the world of dance. To honour her memory, the Opera is devoting an exceptional evening to her. Octave has interviewed some of the artists who worked with her and who reveal their memories episode by episode from now until the gala.   

I discovered Yvette Chauviré when I was still a pupil at the Ballet School: I was present for her farewell performance in Giselle with Cyril Atanassoff. At the time, Yvette was the “super star” of the School. We were always hearing about her. She must have been about fifty but she was still dancing. I saw Yvette again once I had joined the Corps de Ballet. She was giving classes in style which only the very motivated students attended. Later, I worked on the second act of Giselle with her and she talked a lot about the psychology of the character. We also worked on Lifar’s Les Mirages together when I became an Étoile. She was very open in her suggestions. I also took part in the Delouche adventure, performing alongside her in the documentary Une étoile pour exemple. Finally, I remember Yvette Chauviré as répétitrice taking me to Les Croisières de la danse with the dancers of the Opera.

She was an elegant, exceptionally charismatic woman, witty and subtle, with a wonderful aura. She could also be highly whimsical: like when she used to make us work on the wings from Swan Lake in the middle of our barre exercises, taking off in a flight of lyricism and artistry! You had to observe what she was doing to learn from her, to soak it up like a sponge. She was funny, with a subtle sense of humour, but she was also very demanding and unpredictable. I still remember her musicality and the refinement of her gestures.

I often think of her when I’m teaching. Yvette Chauviré belongs to the same family of artists and coaches as Violette Verdy and Ghislaine Thesmar, inspired and open in their way of passing on their art. She knew how to recreate a work in a more modern way whilst still respecting the past. Her spark of eccentricity, her freedom and open-mindedness have never left me. Yvette was a romantic ballerina, a dancer of character with incredible temperament. An artist through and through.   

Propos recueillis par Aliénor de Foucaud

When I joined the Opéra in the 80s, I took her classes on style. She had a very particular style of teaching. It was better to arrive having already warmed-up, as we always got straight down to artistic matters with her sublime adages. I also remember working on all those notions like port de bras, the movement of the tulle, the lyricism and the romanticism that she taught so well. As an Étoile, it was with her that, though more accustomed to brighter roles, I was able to tackle a more sombre and romantic repertoire: Giselle, La Suite en blanc and Les Mirages.

Giselle, a memorable experience: in 1983, when I was still a Sujet, Rudolf Nureyev asked me to dance it with him in Vienna… And I had only two days to learn the role! A challenge that seemed crazy and inconceivable and, at the same time, I couldn’t have turned down such an opportunity. He called on Yvette Chauviré to coach me: she was extraordinary and gave me the key to it, the essential things. She was obsessed with the beginning of Act II: Giselle rises from her tomb, transformed into a Wili. An entrance that doesn’t seem like much but which is technically very demanding. I remember rehearsing it endlessly in order to create the illusion that I was floating over the floor in an almost ethereal way. I think that the pure, unreal and soulful vision she had of Act II has remained rooted in our way of imagining Giselle. Today, when I rehearse it with students, I remain faithful to what she taught me.

The few moments I spent at her side no longer belong to the domain of work but to that of pure artistry, something much stronger. When she made a gesture, there was always meaning behind it. She didn’t explain her movements point by point, she demonstrated, with few words. She had her feet firmly on the ground and yet she was also reaching for the skies: the perfect definition of a dancer! Even if today, the repertoire of the Paris Opera has greatly evolved and is seen in a different light, that message is still there. Yvette Chauviré was one of the great ladies of dance and will remain a reference for an entire generation.

Propos recueillis par Juliette Puaux

I met Yvette Chauviré for the first time in a corridor at the Palais Garnier. I was still very young and had only been in the Corps de Ballet for a year and a half. She wanted me to come to her lessons: she was holding masterclasses, mainly with the Étoiles. That encounter was amazing. I saw her again afterwards, at various times in my career; I have a very good memory of her in rehearsals for Giselle: I was working on the role with Ghislaine Thesmar, and Yvette came in at the end of a rehearsal to give me advice and talk to me: “The first act, it’s like in cinema, they say “Action” and you’re off,” she said. It was enough to watch her and take in everything she said. On becoming an Étoile, I inherited her dressing room, - a very powerful symbol…

Yvette Chauviré will remain for me a great lady who was always full of wonderment. Her joy of living and her desire to pass on her experience were inextricably linked. Yvette was elegance, generosity and passion personified: a woman who remained ever young and very accessible; a woman illuminated. She was very much a woman of her time, never living in the past.

Yvette exemplified the difference between a dancer and a ballerina. Technique did not necessarily interest her but she knew how to be on stage; she caught the light; she made the space her own. Yvette Chauviré gave me so many things that I continue to pass on: a particular way of sensing light and warmth. Today, our role is to pass on what she left us, to share, to hand down her knowledge.

Propos recueillis par Aliénor de Foucaud

On 22^nd April, Yvette Chauviré would have been 100 years old. An immense artist, ambassadress of the French style, generous, elegant and an excellent teacher, the dancer Étoile left a solid and lasting mark on the Paris Opera Ballet and on the world of dance. To honour her memory, the Opera is devoting an exceptional evening to her. Octave has interviewed some of the artists who worked with her and who reveal their memories episode by episode from now until the gala.

I knew Yvette Chauviré when I was still a pupil at the Ballet School, in the first division. She came to rehearse Suite en blanc by Serge Lifar with us. I clearly remember her arrival: a very elegant woman, smartly dressed and well groomed, she entered the studio and lit up the room. She watched us then said: “No, children, it’s not like that at all, I’ll show you.” She gave us a demonstration of style on the variation of “the flute”: arms, character: it was all there. Yvette also helped me to prepare the entrance examination to become a Première dancer, she helped me bring coherent direction to my interpretation. She had a great capacity to demonstrate with words and gestures, she was a wellspring of inspiration. Yvette had the gift of being in a role as if she had a bit of the costume with her, she was the character she embodied.

She was inventive, inspired and capable of changing the details of a choreography. Her creative temperament was very enriching for other dancers. Besides dance and gesture, she was always directed by an idea. Generous with her time and her knowledge, she had the gift of analysing what was wrong to tighten things up, and the capacity to find images and give appropriate advice for everything. Always elegant in role, I often wondered if she worked on her characters before rehearsals and if she always managed to get back into each role and completely live the part.

One can’t help citing Yvette Chauviré. Even today, when I’m teaching, I refer to her. For Swan Lake for example, one is constantly telling the dancers that the arms must be in front, never behind. That was Yvette Chauviré. Her influence is strong and powerful: one draws on it without ever questioning it: a synthesis that is so right; an essential reference.
   

Interviewed by Aliénor de Foucaud

The first time I saw Yvette Chauviré dance, was in Giselle for Serge Lifar’s adieux, in 1956. She was majestic, a little cold but magical, completely unreal. Following that, I was bowled over when I saw her in Les Mirages and the Flute in Suite en blanc.

I really got to know her thanks to Pierre Lacotte. They were close friends and she often came round for dinner. She had a typically Parisian side with a touch of humour. She was what you call “chic”. Yvette Chauviré had the glamour of Greta Garbo, with a face that was extraordinarily well sculpted for catching the light, coupled with Parisian impertinence. She was one of those women whom I greatly admire and who radiate an exultant kind of femininity.

It was only later that she coached me: when I tackled the second act of Giselle at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées with Les Jeunesses Musicales. She didn’t really rehearse me on it, but she let me stay in the studio for hours while she worked herself. She gave me an intimate insight into her art and I learnt masses of things just watching her. The most extraordinary thing, ultimately, was not so much the eye she kept on me but the eye I kept on her.

She relied on instinct, on inspiration, besides having, obviously, an amazing technique. She was totally transformed by her work with Boris Kniassef. She managed to push her bodily sensations to the limit. It was fascinating to watch her aim for that in each of her roles. She occupies a primordial position in the history of French dance, attaining the highest artistic standards in her performances. Some people think that she was imprisoned by her own character. In reality, she transcended it through her imagination. Her horizon was immense.

Interviewed by Inès Piovesan

I first knew Yvette Chauviré when I was very young. I was still at the Paris Opera Ballet School and she was a Première Danseuse in the Opera’s Corps de Ballet. I was present when she was made an Étoile after the world premiere performance of Serge Lifar’s Istar. I saw her again in the production of Swan Lake which Victor Gorski staged for her and Serge Peretti, and she was superb; then in Les Mirages and Suite en Blanc in which she was fabulous, but also in Giselle and Coppélia not to forget Lifar’s Sylvia or Les Deux Pigeons… I saw her in all of the productions she danced at the Opera, as well as many elsewhere!

She approached her roles and characters with a great deal of thought and intelligence and when she captured the audience’s attention she dominated the performance and was a triumph.

When I danced Giselle in Paris for the first time, she was the one who made me work at the role of Albrecht. She was someone very precise. She would get to the essence of every detail, so that each gesture had significance. She explained how Albrecht had to walk or carry flowers—with nobleness of course. She was able to enthral you, bring you out of yourself with gentleness and elegance. She knew how to give confidence to the people she worked with and when you were on stage together it was incredible.

I was fortunate that a friendship developed between us and we were very close for over thirty years. We went out a lot. She was receptive to everything, music, cinema… She lived two-hundred percent and she had no conception of what banality was! She had exceptional class, genuine Parisian chic, a great sense of humour and true generosity. When it was time for me to bid farewell to the Opera, she came backstage every evening to offer me moral support. She was an exceptional person who left her mark along with unforgettable memories; I constantly have a picture of her in my mind.     

I first encountered Yvette Chauviré as a spectator when I was a child, during the war. At that time, she was not yet “Yvette Chauviré”. She was a young Étoile and the public found her a little too vain and superficial. She had not yet blossomed as an artist. It was only after the Liberation of Paris, when Serge Lifar, banished from the Paris Opera, founded his own company in Monte-Carlo, that she was able to develop her work and really become the artist that we know today. Her art was completely transformed, abandoning everything superfluous. Purity became her touchstone.

Her sylph-like physique, which was not at all fashionable at the end of the 40s, made an immediate impression on Serge Lifar. She became his muse and her physique helped her in her development as an artist. She wasn’t technically outstanding; she had something else: a transcendental quality. A tenacious worker, it took her years of work to become “the” dancer of the 20^th century. She was the only one to objectify herself, fashioning her body as an architect designs a monument. She continued to perform until the age of fifty-five. This longevity allowed her to invent a new way of dancing, constantly in the pursuit of the absolute. Avid for perfection, she had a very clear vision of what she was doing and what she wanted to do. Like a vestal virgin, she was utterly dedicated to her art. She devoted her life to dance.

As a worthy representative of the classical French style, she embodied understatement and measure. Her final performance of Swan Lake in which she was no longer a palpitating, dying creature but more like an ideogram, something fading away, was quintessential. She was the prima ballerina assoluta. She was the living embodiment of the absolute in dance.
   

Propos recueillis par Solène Souriau