Katherine Dunham on the French Stage (No Repeat of La Revue Nègre)

The Parisian press made up for the absence of reviews in Santiago, where the press had been informed that all newsprint would be withdrawn should anyone venture to write about Southland. In France, reviewers besieged Dunham before and after the show. It was not only the acclaimed dancer whom they pressed with questions, but also the woman who had dared to challenge the authorities of several countries. Bringing to Paris a ballet that had created such a stir was a sensation. Paris would be the definite step in the unfolding of the Southland story, but perhaps also in Dunham’s and her company’s career. The press met the event with the usual attention, yet the reviews of the show itself were mixed, some expressing praise, surprise, or disappointment that a talented choreographer should venture onto such tricky ground. Le Monde regretted that Dunham had changed “since those wonderful evenings” and asked, “What has happened to the anthropologist we once admired?”¹ Journalists² and audiences had definitely forged their own image of what Dunham’s appearances should be like and were not ready to follow her new experiences. Some blamed her for betraying her original talent and her racial heritage by using a sort of Greek chorus and orchestral music instead of “primitive” Negro tunes. Others criticized her for being too classical, too cerebral; others applauded her for “going beyond the folkloric and anecdotal into the realism of classicism.” Still others thought she was too timid in expressing anger and in showing the violence endured by blacks. Paris Presse refused to even mention Southland. Radio commentators blamed Dunham for showing the actual hanging on stage.

Offended and upset by the critics, Dunham felt suddenly estranged from the audiences who had met her earlier work with enthusiasm. Even her longtime friend Bernard Berenson, who saw Southland in Paris, joined the chorus of disapproval, thus expressing what might have been the American response. Aggrieved by judgments in which she sensed “the repeated rhythm of an out-of-gear machinery,” she had responded to French critics in 1949 with an article titled “Je suis toujours moi meme,” explaining that novelties were the result of her constant observation of the world around her and of the urge she felt to introduce her impressions “without betraying the quality of her artistic message.”³ She claimed that with Southland she was renewing a constant theme in her work: calling for liberty, democracy, and justice, as she did when she dedicated a show to the cause of the Spanish Civil War, or when in 1937 she presented her “Tropic Death,” with Talley Beatty as a fugitive from a lynch mob.⁴

Katherine Dunham’s ballets had much appeal for the French, although she did not attract the crowds Josephine Baker did. Dunham’s French audiences were more enlightened about the racial situation than they had been in 1925. The translations of Richard Wright’s works had seen to this. But the appeal of Dunham came as much from erotic exoticism as from a genuine perception of her cultural authenticity and the originality of her choreography. As journalist and novelist Françoise Giroud put it: “Mme Dunham creates a huge misunderstanding. For us, Katherine Dunham is a star like any other star. But she sees herself differently. She sees herself as an anthropologist. She believed that she would die of shame when in 1948 it was said that her ballets were sexy. In fact, we are bound to say that her success, in Paris as well as in New York, owes far less to her scientific demonstrations than to the violent eroticism that emanates from her show.”⁵ It was precisely this image of her performances to which Dunham objected. It is perhaps in her own words on dance that one can find an explanation of the nature of this misunderstanding with her audiences.

Being on the stage for me was making love. It was my expression of my love for humanity and things of beauty. This is what took Europe by storm. Initially I was embarrassed by discussions about sexuality and my legs. I did not realize that sexuality was a dominating factor in my life…. For me the greatest part of performing was the intensity of meeting the challenge of different situations, locations and people. Mistaken or not, I felt also I had to carry on part of my intellectual life while performing.⁶

1. Whereas many books on Dunham barely mention the Paris tours and the reviews, Kaiso includes a long essay on Southland and pays more attention to the press. Kaiso, pp. 344-363, see no. 39Ð54, p. 362. [↩]
2. Jean Durkeim, “Sur la scène du Palais de Chaillot, Katherine Dunham monte Southland, dont le thème est un lynchage: Pour avoir regardé une blanche, un noir est pendu…” Ce soir, 11-12 janvier, 1953. [↩]
3. Bibliothèque Nationale de France, in Paris BNF, “Arts et Spectacles,” Section Richelieu, a printout of a clipping with no mention of journal or date. The BNF holds a collection of clippings with photographs of Dunham’s shows in Paris. Most of the reviews quoted in this essay are from these holdings. [↩]
4. They were falsely accused of rape by two white women: “messing white women /snake lyin’ tale /dat hang and burn /jail with no bail.” Quoted in Kaiso, p. 495. [↩]
5. Françoise Giroud, Nouveaux Portraits, Gallimard, 1964. [↩]
6. Interview with Gwen Mazer, Essence, December 1976, in Kaiso, p. 421. [↩]