Being Isadora Suzanna Clarke School of Creative Writing and Cultural Studies Faculty of Creative Industries Queensland University of Technology This thesis is presented as part of the requirements for the award of the Degree of Master of Arts (Research) November, 2003 1 Keywords Craig, Edward Gordon; dance; Douglas, Lord Alfred; Duse, Eleonora; Duncan, Anna; Duncan, Isadora; Isadorables; film; Golden Dawn, The; Greece; New York; Paris; Russia; Singer, Paris. 2 Abstract Being Isadora is a story of possession. Isadora Duncan, the founder of modern dance, was an intensely creative, free-spirited woman. Her life experiences early last century were as fascinating and tragic as her achievements. In New York in 1985, Isadora’s last surviving pupil and adopted daughter, ninety-year old Anna Duncan, is searching for a way to fulfill a long held promise. Isadora wished to control the way she was remembered and had made Anna promise that any remaining film of her dancing would be destroyed. But one film survives and Anna is running out of time to find it. A young Australian journalist, Tamsin Doyle, attends a dance class at the Isadora Duncan Studio and meets Anna, unknowingly becoming part of the quest. Initially the stories of Isadora and Tamsin run parallel, then as Tamsin gets to know Anna, she becomes immersed in a dream world of dramatic incidents from Isadora’s life. The dreams become waking experiences and she fears her will is gradually being taken over. She ends up in places – in fact other countries – that she had no intention of being, pursuing an agenda that is not her own. In the second part of the book, she finds herself in Russia, where Isadora lived after the Revolution. She meets and falls in love with Vladimir, the grandson of Isadora’s former dance collaborator. Unable to prevent herself being possessed while visiting the school Isadora founded, Tamsin is arrested by the authorities. A Russian KGB officer has his own plans and abducts her, keeping her prisoner in a dacha outside Moscow. He shows her a film of herself dancing and then the surviving film of Isadora. The two are almost identical and a dramatic climax ensues. Themes in the book explore the nature of memory and how it is influenced by photographic and filmic record, love and loss and the way patterns repeat in people’s lives in an attempt to change outcomes. 3 Table of Contents Keywords...........................................................................................ii Abstract..............................................................................................iii Table of Contents...............................................................................iv Statement of Original Authorship.......................................................v Acknowledgments.............................................................................vi Part One Prologue, New York. July 15, 1985...................................................1 Chapter One. New York. June 18, 1985.............................................3 Chapter Two. New York. June 18, 1895............................................8 Chapter Three. New York. June 23, 1895.........................................28 Chapter Four. London. April 23, 1899..............................................41 Chapter Five......................................................................................54 Chapter Six........................................................................................68 Chapter Seven..................................................................................101 Chapter Eight...................................................................................126 Chapter Nine....................................................................................146 Part Two Chapter Ten..................................................................................... 158 Chapter Eleven.................................................................................177 Chapter Twelve................................................................................189 Chapter Thirteen...............................................................................232 Chapter Fourteen..............................................................................246 Chapter Fifteen.................................................................................261 Chapter Sixteen................................................................................276 Works Cited.....................................................................................288 Bibliography....................................................................................289 4 The work contained in this thesis has not been previously submitted for a degree or diploma at any other higher education institution. To the best of my knowledge and belief, the thesis contains no material previously published or written by another person except where due reference is made. Signed: Date: 5 Acknowledgements I would like to thank my supervisor, Donna Lee Brien for her valuable feedback and immense patience; my husband, Sandy McCutcheon, for his encouragement; Anna Sweeney for giving me an insight into Isadora’s dance technique through her Jose Clara etchings ; dancers and artists everywhere for enriching our lives immeasurably. 6 Without risks, life is nothing – a dream empty of dreams.1 When in doubt, always go to the best hotel.2 Isadora Duncan 1878-1927 7 8 Part One Prologue New York. July 15, 1985 Anna woke to find herself sitting bolt upright in bed. The bedside light was on, although she recalled clicking it off before she went to sleep. She looked down at her fingers clasping the coverlet. Through the milky cataract cloud, her gnarled fingers appeared young and graceful. One arm moved, unbidden, to throw back the blanket. She attempted to resist, but could feel her will being overcome and gave a deep sigh. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, voice hoarse with disuse, although it may as well have remained a thought. ‘Anna. You and I need to have a talk.’ The words were in her head, and she knew where they came from. ‘Why now?’ ‘It’s time.’ ‘It’s the middle of the night.’ She thought she heard a shimmer of laughter. ‘I know, but sleep is a foreign country to me now.’ Her feet touched the threadbare rug reluctantly and she stepped forward with a jerky motion, before the movement took hold and she glided to the mirror in a way she had not done for many years. ‘Look, look closely,’ said the woman’s voice inside her head. Her vision seemed to clear and Anna could see the loose skin of her face hanging like a curtain through which she imagined her younger, real self to be hiding. She shifted her attention to the pale smear hovering over her left shoulder. It was another face, round and beautiful with deep, sorrowful 9 10 eyes. Liquid eyes. The air around the halo of auburn hair seemed to fizzle and crackle with a fierce intensity. Her breath caught in her throat with fear and wonder. Looking back to the mirror, she saw that her face was no longer her own. It had altered to become that of the woman who had appeared behind her. She struggled to retain her composure and reminded herself it was just a clever illusion. One that she had seen before. ‘Why are you using Mr Crowley’s tricks again? You know I never liked him,’ Anna said. ‘Don’t sound so petulant Anna. I didn’t either. But Aleister had one or two useful things to teach. It is a pity you never chose to learn them.’ ‘What you had was enough for me. I remember you told us, “The only thing that matters is beauty: the pursuit of beauty to make all of life beautiful.” ’ ‘You are right. You are the last of my priestesses and you know how important it is to protect the memory of what we created. Have you done what I asked, all those years ago?’ The old woman dropped her head, unable to meet the eyes looking straight at her from the reflection. ‘You know that I haven’t. I couldn’t bring myself to.’ ‘Then it is time.’ ‘You have come to tell me I’m going to die now?’ Her regret was tinged with relief. ‘No, not yet. You will join me soon, but for now I have to leave you. There are still things to be attended to. I need you to do one last task for me.’ Anna sighed again. ‘What is it?’ ‘You remember that girl in the dance class? The one we saw the other day?’ ‘The new one?’ ‘Yes, of course. Invite her over. I will do the rest.’ ‘You are going to work through her instead of me?’ ‘Yes.’ 10 ‘Why her?’ ‘You saw her dance. She has the gift and is young, curious and feisty. Besides, she knows no-one here. She will not be missed.’ 11 12 CHAPTER ONE New York. June 18, 1985 ‘Ms Doyle, we’re not taking on any more journalists at present. Budget restrictions.’ ‘What?’ A high note of desperation was creeping into my voice. ‘But I’ve come all the way from Australia. I quit my job to come here.’ ‘I wish I could help out.’ Gail Jenkins from Personnel was a middle- aged, efficient looking woman, wearing a suit with power shoulders that made her look like a junior grid-iron player. ‘There’s nothing I can do.’ She held up her hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I said, growing angry. ‘I’m sure you can do something. This arrangement was made in writing with your Features editor, Nick Wharton. Wait a moment.’ I rifled through my bag and opened the letter folded in my diary. I held it up and stabbed at the New York Post letterhead triumphantly, then shoved it in her direction. Glancing at it with the sort of enthusiasm you’d reserve for