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CHAPTER 14 Rebekah Harkness Builds Her Own Theater The opening of The Harkness Theater was big news in New York. The fact that Mrs. Harkness had spent a cool five million dollars on the job and the fact that the theater had some rather peculiar features, meant that the media could, as they say, have a ball. Mrs. Harkness’s favorite color was blue. I think she had once seen this particular shade of blue on the Maryinsky Theater curtain in Leningrad and liked it. She re-named it ‘Harkness Blue” She frequently wore a ‘Harkness Blue gown’ and even had a Harkness blue Rolls-Royce, which, regrettably, I never saw. The dishes from the canteen at Harkness House, several of which I have, are Harkness blue, embossed with a dancing figure in gold. In fact, everything in the theater was blue. Even the seats in the Dress Circle, salvaged from the old theater, had been painted and re-upholstered in blue. The lobby was of black marble with six enormous chandeliers, all
designed and imported from Spain. I’d heard that Senis spent six months lying on his back on a scaffolding while painting this mural in the style of Michelangelo, but unlike Michelangelo, he had a TV set and a fridge up there. Some of the Harkness trainees who I had taught, posed for this mural, naked. They all were pictured reaching upwards and onwards to the dance. Some held candelabras and some of the candelabra sprouted from unlikely parts of the male anatomy, but with some tasteful shading. Everyone thought the mural was in extremely bad taste. Well, that was Mrs. Harkness, whose taste in art, music and choreographers may have left a lot to be desired. Opening night consisted of virtually the entire New York dance world, plus a good many dancers and choreographers from out of town, even from Europe that she flew in at her own expense. The other half of the audience were socialites and their behavior was atrocious. Free champagne flowed all evening and the minute a ballet seemed to be drawing to a close they were off in search of more bubbly.
The Harkness Ballet Is Finished. I was a bit saddened yet knew it hinted at the truth when New York Times dance critic Clive Barnes wrote: “I am reminded of a colleague, years ago in London, who, during a sad performance, startled the woman in front of him by tapping her on the shoulder and saying in a penetrating whisper: ‘excuse me madam, would you mind placing your hat back on? I can see’”. Mrs. Harkness was devastated. She had spared no expense in making her theater a beautiful home for dance in New York. For the opening night she even had yet another face lift! After the dancers returned from the European tour the company was suddenly disbanded. They heroically tried to keep it going, even to begging for contributions but it didn’t work. The theater had a few small plays booked into it, but most of the time it was dark. A bear market in the 70s left Mrs. Harkness’s finances in mess and
there was
a $1,500,000 yearly deficit. It was all over. The theater was torn
down in 1975. Only Harkness House remained. David Howard had left and had opened his own studio in Manhattan. The school directors were Nikita Talin and Robert Scevers. “Bobby” Scevers had been, and still was Mrs. Harkness’s on and off lover. He was pleasant enough. Nikita – extremely rude and overly impressed with his own importance, had been a minor dancer with the Ballet Russe. I tried to stay clear of him. The offices were no longer bugged as they had been, but there was still the intrigue going on, the suspicions, the fear of being in one day and out the next at somebody’s whim. Mrs. Harkness didn’t care any longer. Occasionally she came in and wandered around as in a daze. The years of drugs and alcohol had taken their toll. Her body, stiff to begin with, was now wracked by pain. She walked like Frankenstein’s monster. I taught ballet and character dance. My character class followed the morning hour and a half ballet class, taught by Scevers. The trainees were exhausted from that and really wanted to rest. It was asking too much for them to immediately put in another class of strenuous character dancing. Therefore, my character classes, which were so loved back at Butler, were almost a chore for the dancers. This was even in spite of a wonderfully inspiring pianist, John Childs, who could play anything I put before him on sight.
The House still had some faded glamour left. Television companies
would rent it for a whole day or even a week to shoot a scene for a
movie or a commercial. It was a beehive of activity every day with famous people dropping in.
I was not invited but heard that it was a grotesque affair. Her daughters, overdressed socialites and a few dancers and choreographers. Most were more concerned with who was going to inherit what. The largest beneficiary of her estate was her dance foundation. After her estate was liquidated it would receive several million dollars. This depended of course on how much was left from the market value of her homes in New York, Palm Beach and Gstaad, Switzerland. I paid my respects standing before the Chalice, placed back on display in the foyer and resumed my classes. I heard that her ashes would not all fit in the chalice, and I believe it was eventually sold to a Japanese art dealer. Rebekah Harkness treated many people unfeelingly. Even those who
were devoted to her. She was rich, very rich. But money couldn’t buy
her real happiness. Whatever her many faults, she shared her
enormous wealth with the arts and specifically the dance and I shall
always respect her for that. |
My evening ballet classes were another story. They were open
classes, meaning anyone was welcome to come. I had a variety of
dancers, from circus acrobats to Radio City Music Hall Rockettes.
The class grew so popular, the regular trainees started to come.
Sometimes there were over 40 in the class and more coming. Many
often were turned away for lack of space.
Her ashes were placed in the golden, jeweled Chalice Of Life,
designed by Salvador Dali. Since it mechanically revolved, she would
pirouette inside it forever.