Music: Claude Debussy. Choreography: Nijinsky. Plot: After a poem of Stéphane Mallarmé. Sets and costumes: inspired by the works of Léon Bakst. Premiere: May 19, 1912 at the Théàtre du Châtelet in Paris. Dancers at the premiere: Vaslaw Nijinsky (the faun), Lydia Nelidova (Leader of the Nymphs). Nijinsky's masterpiece is being performed with the artistry of Barry Leon opposite Ballet of the Dolls' Julia Tehven. The work was the center of controversy at its debut in 1912 over a final movement when the faun encounters the delicate scarf of a nymph. Nijinsky created this beloved work with static freeze like movement that resembles ancient Egyptian characters. The movement creates an illusion of two dimensional images that glide and shift in telling this unusual story.

 

The ballet opens with a breathy warble on the flute and the curtain rises slowly to reveal the Faun on top of his bank, supporting himself on his left arm, right knee raised, head tilted back and pipe to lips; as the phrase is partly echoed by the horns against a background of harp glissandi, then repeated on the flute, the Faun goes through the action, in his angular, stylized way, of squeezing first one then another bunch of grapes over his face. On the third repeat of the flute phrase, three nymphs walk slowly on the left. They are followed by two more. In the course of a long tendrilly arabesque on two flutes with harp then string accompaniment a sixth nymph walks rapidly to the center of the stage, and takes up a pose. She then walks backwards and joins in behind the fourth and fifth nymphs as the seventh nymph comes on. The fist six nymphs remain motionless until the lead nymph crosses the stage at a rapid mechanical walk, one arm across her breast, and undone a clasp on her shoulder to let fall her outer veils revealing a short golden undergarment.

The Faun has not stirred during the entire entry of the six nymphs. When the leader of the nymphs comes on he followed her with his eyes. Now a warbling clarinet sets his head moving and a spiccato cello brings him to his feet. Forming interesting patterns as they kneel or stand with elbows turned out from their sides and hands either pointing at their waists or above their heads, the nymphs move in and out as they bathe the tall nymph in the imaginary stream to a wistful tune on the oboe. Violins pick up the oboe phrase. A crescendo brings the Faun down his slope on to the same level as the others. The tempo quickens. The fourth and fifth nymphs bear off one veil to the right; and the first second and third nymphs bear off the other veil to the left. The music subsides into a clarinet solo ‘doux et expressif’. The sixth nymph is stage center with her back to the Faun. She turns to see him and raises her arms in surprise to shoulder level, fingers splayed, and scurries off right. The Faun and seventh nymph are left motionless as the woodwind sing a new theme of quiet exultation. A sudden crescendo to the languorous triplet theme. The violins take a new tune over rippling harps. In sharp bursts the Faun courts the nymph with a jump and changes of direction. His jump is to cross the imaginary stream flowing from the background.. They link arms, elbows locking, but the nymph escapes the Faun, walking off on flat feet to the left. The music surges to fortissimo then down again as singly and in pairs the other nymphs return to fetch the remaining veil. A solo violin plays, accompanied by sustained horns and warbles on the flute and clarinet. The Faun tilts back his head and bares his teeth in stylized laughter; then picks up the veil and contemplates it ecstatically in profile. Over an arpeggio harp accompaniment the flute plays it’s original tune. An oboe plucks away. To a downward rush of woodwind three nymphs glide on to mock the Faun. The oboe takes up the tune, and they scuttle off, hands raised. As the cor anglais trill and flutes flutter the sixth nymph walks on from the right, confronts the Faun with a defiant stare, then goes off abashed. Again the flutes repeat their tune supported by shimmering strings and the quiet ring of cymbales antiques. The Faun, alone again, returns to his bluff and nods his head over the veil, nuzzles it, then stretching it out over the ground, lowers himself on it, head tucked under, and finally, as muted horns and harp harmonies over a quiet flute chord conclude the choreographic poem, consummates his union with it, taut to the ground, by a convulsive jerk. We are to imagine that this is his first sexual experience. According to conversations with Marie Rambert.