Robert Gottlieb’s immense sampling of the dance literature–by far the largest such project ever attempted–is both inclusive, to the extent that inclusivity is possible when dealing with so vast a field, and personal: the result of decades of reading.
It limits itself of material within the experience of today’s general readers, avoiding, for instance, academic historical writing and treatises on technique, its earliest subjects are those nineteenth-century works and choreographers that still resonate with dance lovers today: Giselle, The Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake; Bournonville and Petipa. And, as Gottlieb writes in his introduction, “The twentieth century focuses to a large extent on the achievements and personalities that dominated it–from Pavlova and Nijinsky and Diaghilev to Isadora Duncan and Martha Graham, from Ashton and Balanchine and Robbins to Merce Cunningham and Paul Taylor and Twyla Tharp, from Fonteyn and Farrell and Gelsey Kirkland (“the Judy Garland of Ballet”) to Nureyev and Baryshnikov and Astaire–as well as the critical and reportorial voices, past and present, that carry the most conviction.”
In structuring his anthology, Gottlieb explains, he has “tried to help the reader along by arranging its two hundred-plus entries into a coherent groups.” Apart from the sections on major personalities and important critics, there are sections devoted to interviews (Tamara Toumanova, Antoinette Sibley, Mark Morris); profiles (Lincoln Kirstein, Bob Fosse, Olga Spessivtseva); teachers; accounts of the birth of important works from Petrouchka to Apollo to Push Comes to Shove; and the movies (from Arlene Croce and Alastair Macauley on Fred Astaire to director Michael Powell on the making of The Red Shoes). Here are the voices of Cecil Beaton and Irene Castle, Ninette de Valois and Bronislava Nijinska, Maya Plisetskaya and Allegra Kent, Serge Lifar and José Limón, Alicia Markova and Natalia Makarova, Ruth St. Denis and Michel Fokine, Susan Sontag and Jean Renoir. Plus a group of obscure, even eccentric extras, including an account of Pavlova going shopping in London and recipes from Tanaquil LeClerq’s cookbook.”
With its huge range of content accompanied by the anthologist’s incisive running commentary, Reading Dance will be a source of pleasure and instruction for anyone who loves dance.
Robert Adams Gottlieb (April 29, 1931 – June 14, 2023) was an American writer and editor. He was the editor-in-chief of Simon & Schuster, Alfred A. Knopf, and The New Yorker.
For many years, Gottlieb was associated with the New York City Ballet, serving as a member of its board of directors. He published many books by people from the dance world, including Mikhail Baryshnikov and Margot Fonteyn. He was also a member of the Board of Trustees of the Miami City Ballet
Gottlieb was a frequent contributor to The New York Review of Books, The New Yorker, and The New York Times Book Review, and had been the dance critic for The New York Observer from 1999 until 2020.
This book is a fantastic example of a multi-source, multi-author anthology, the kind of anthology intended to give a reader a clear and many-angled view of a general subject, in this case, dance. I jumped in without knowing much about the history of dance (only that ballet comes to us from Italy by way of France and migrated westward sometime during the Renaissance); so I would liken my opening this book to the experience of sitting down to a smorgasboard of really exotic food. Make that an all-you-can-eat smorgasboard (at 1,360 pages long). Like most diners, I found I couldn't finish everything on the table, losing steam somewhere after reading about 1/8th of the total book. However, the 1/8th I did read was illuminating as well as intellectually challenging. (I also highly recommend the video "Ballets Russes," which I checked out as a result of my reading, and which shows some of the stage scenery/costumes designed by Matisse and Picasso for the Ballets Russes in the 1920s, as well as some of the cutest and more inspiring eighty-year-olds ever captured on film.)
An endlessly interesting read that is plagued by issues in both its curation and roundness of subject. More often than not, writers would reference writings of other critics or dancers that are not included in the collection. While omitting every referential article would weaken the overall collection, when we find Susan Sontag and Edwin Denby both explicitly calling Théophile Gautier (who's works are not included in the book) the greatest dance critic of the 19th century, you would hope to have something of his to compare. That is emblematic perhaps of the lack of roundness; nearly all of the essays included are from the 20th century pieces, and those that are earlier are, I feel, mostly profiles of dancers that we are told are explicitly less talented/disciplined than their 20th progeny.
I greatly enjoyed the articles included, and would recommend the tome as a primer for any person wanting to immerse themselves in intellectual reflections of dance. But, for the page count, it did leave me feeling heavily pulled toward just one corner of a large room.