APACHES!
Title page of Le Petit Journal (20 October 1907):
The Apache is the sore of Paris.
More than 30,000 prowlers against 8,000 city policemen."
No,
I’m not referring to the Native American tribe; well not exactly, as I shall
explain in just a moment. Les Apaches (pronounced a.paj) was what can properly
be termed as a Parisian subculture; one which many people are romantically
inclined to associate with the late 1800s, the Parisian Belle Époque, but more
accurately should be associated more with the early 20th century. Be
that as it may, they were thugs, robbers, muggers, pimps, and members of street
gangs. Certainly anything but romantic. Indeed, as time went on and their ill
repute spread throughout Europe, the term “apache” came to describe any violet
street criminal.
How
the name came about is somewhat not entirely clear, but it would seem there is
a common thread in all the theories; that being, the comparison of the Parisian
thugs’ viciousness with descriptions that Parisians had heard or read,
concerning the Native American Apache Nation. As evidence, a 1904 edition of
the French magazine, Intermediary for
Researchers and Curious, gave credit to a writer named Victor Morris for
the term based on a statement made in November 1900 by a police inspector
describing a particularly horrific crime scene attributed to the criminals: “C’est un veritable truc d’Apaches!” Then
there is the tale which was told in the Le
Petit Journal in 1910 that a certain gang leader whose street name was “Terreur” (Terror) had heard that the
actions of the gangs were compared to the Apaches and was so delighted by the
comparison that he named his band of thugs “Apaches of Belleville.”
A group of Parisian Apache.
The photograph was used to advertise Apache fashions
Les
Apaches lived by their own code of honor, such as it was: they slept late,
spoke in their own patois or slang called Jare,
and even had their own special weapon, a combination of a revolver, brass knuckles
and dagger. And for their period and circumstance, they dressed extremely well.
All the while a victim was being robbed, he was just as likely to be admiring
the criminal’s shoes or clothes. A true Apache would steal, cheat, or even kill
to get his hands on a pair of shoes that would enhance his image in the eyes of
his colleagues or ladies. Although I have never seen an example of it, I am
told that the height of Apache fashion was a pair of freshly shined, pointed
yellow boots with gold buttons! Tres
gauche! Be that as it may, each Parisian gang dressed in a slightly
different fashion, often wearing something such as a red scarf as both a sign
of belonging and as a means of identification in other territories — something
that was ultimately adopted almost a century later by such American street
gangs as the “Bloods” and the “Crips” in Los Angeles, New York, and San
Francisco. Certain sartorial elements however were common to all the gangs.
They all wore a specific style of trouser, tight at the knees and flared at the
bottom, known as a Bénard, and above
that, they usually wore vests or jackets along with stripped sailor shirts and
a hat of some type, usually a flat cap. And Les Apache, being Parisian, and
Paris being the fashion capital of the world, the gangs unwittingly started a
fashion trend that spread even as far as the west coast of the United States.
An advertisement for Apache fashions from
a company in Los Angeles.
The
biggest targets of the gangsters, those who feared them the most, were the
newly emerging Parisian middle class. And well they should have, as walking
home in the evening from work, or later from some café or dance hall made them
easy prey. Why, Les Apaches even had a documented set of established tricks to
be used in mugging and for combat. The most infamous of these was the coup du pére Francois (the coup of
Father Francois — only God knows why) in which a victim was stalked by several
thugs before being garroted from the rear, with one brute assigned the task of
searching through the victim’s pockets while others served as lookouts after the
murder. They did not like to leave witnesses.
Certain
aspects of Les Apaches found their way into French and then European “pop”
culture of the time, from the “traditional” Apache horizontally striped shirt
to a violent dance. Classes were even available so that one could learn the
Apache argot or patois — the fashionable (among some) “thieves slang.”
Thus
we come to Le Dance Apache (Apache for short) or depending on where you lived,
the “Bowery Waltz,” the Apache Turn,” the “Apache Dance,” and just the “Tough
Dance.” It was a very dramatic dance, typically performed by a couple that grew
straight out of the Parisian thug subculture, by all accounts depicting a
violent, shall we say “dialogue” between an Apache pimp and his prostitute,
which included slapping, punching, and the pimp lifting and throwing the woman
to the ground, or carrying her around while she strikes out at him and perhaps
faints into unconsciousness (real or feigned). The actual popularity of the
dance can be attributed to Maurice Mouvet[1]
and Max Dearly,[2]
both dancers, who in 1908 visited numerous bars which catered to Les Apaches,
formulating the dance from the behaviors they witnessed there, giving it the
name “Apache.” Max Dearly premiered the dance later that year in Paris and Mouvet
at the Casino Kursaal at Ostend, Belgium. Shortly thereafter, Maurice Mouvet
and his partner Leona performed the dance great acclaim at Maxim’s in Paris and
Dearly and his partner impressed even bigger crowds in La Revue du Moulin at the Moulin Rouge.
Max Dearly and his parttner.
Maurice Mouvet and his partner.
Eventually
the dance found its way into early cinema, most frequently danced to “Valse des
Rayons,” also known as “Valse Chaloupée” from Jacques Offenbach’s ballet Le Papillon[3]
which has from then on been the music most associated with the dance.”
Les Vampires, 1915.
Alexis and Dorrano in Dance Apache, 1934.
According
to famed ballroom dancer Irene Castle (1893 – 1969),[4]
the Apache dance was a dance “in which the male dancer tries to demolish the
female dancer, as spectacularly as possible…and usually succeeds. Popular until
the 1960s, many people felt that the dance tolerated violence against women and
it was because of this that the dance “died” in that decade amid its emerging
women’s independence. Understandable but not true. In fact, the Apache dance
was created by a woman as a statement (perhaps skewed in comparison with the
modern mindset regarding women’s rights) of independence and empowerment.
Back
in the 19th century, the lives of Parisian women, just like their
sisters in the United States, England, and throughout much of the world, were highly
restricted. A married/committed woman was considered property, and the man who
“owned” her also owned whatever possessions she had. Beyond that, many
marriages were arranged, and women were told, that under no circumstances were they
to be anything other than passive and submissive; yet, a husband could go out
at night and socialize with friends and associates while the wife stayed
home…where she belonged. Women had to stay out of the public eye unless
accompanied by a man; something which even extended to walking across a
ballroom floor.
Now
in Paris, women were allowed a brief taste of freedom from these restrictions —
but only once a year at Carnival. For only a few days, ending with Mardi Gras,
a woman could speak in an unguarded manner and exchange insults, smoke, drink,
or even travel without being accompanied by a man. She could even dress like a
man! In the 1830s, things changed slightly (I’m not sure why) but the
“freedoms” I just mentioned were extended to public dancing ant the dance
gardens of Paris, much to the credit of the lorettes and “free women” who
ventured there.
And
then there was Mistinguette, (also spelled Mistinguett) a woman of actually
dared to leave her domestic existence to become a stage entertainer around 1900,
as a singer and dancer. One of her earliest partners was Maurice Chavalier, ten
years her junior. As noted earlier, Max Dearly and Maurice Mouvet are credited
with the invention of the dance, with Mistinguette performing with Max in 1908
at the Le Revue du Moulin. Be that as
it may, in her autobiography written many years later, she claims to have
invented the dance as early as 1903. Well, maybe and maybe not and I promise to
research the matter further and to report back on my findings.
[1] Maurice Mouvet (March 17, 1889 - May 18, 1927)
was one half of the most famous and successful dance teams around the early 1910s
and lead the way for many performers that would follow, including Florence
Walton and Leonora (Leona) Hughes. Mouvet was said to have started his career
on the Vaudeville Stage as a page, then later becoming a dance performer,
getting a small glint of fame performing early dances such as waltzes,
cakewalks and mazurkas. Later, his specialty dance and attraction was the
“Argentine Tango” and the infamous Apache Dance which (with Walton) would
become one of his most successful ballroom-exhibition acts of his time, which
they performed at many rooftop theaters, dansants,
nightclubs and ballrooms in the 1910s and 20s. Mouvet is noted for creating
many dances and dance steps such as the “Junk Man Rag” (a one-step,) and the
“Brazilian Maxixe” in 1913. Mouvet is said to be the innovator of the “American
Tango” as it is danced today. Mouvet and Leona introduced his version of the
Apache at the Cafe de Paris in France about 1907, which he learned from one of
the original “Gunmen of Paris” (Apaches) and even performed it before his
majesty King Edward VII by his invitation.
[2] Max Dearly (November 22, 1874 - June 2, 1943),
born Lucien Paul Marie-Joseph Rolland, was a French dancer, stage and film
actor, producer and director.
[3]
Le papillon (The
Butterfly) is a “fantastic ballet” in two acts (four scenes) of 1860, with
choreography by Marie Taglioni and music by Jacques Offenbach to a libretto by
Jules-Henri Vernoy de Saint-Georges. Le
papillon was first presented by the Paris Opera Ballet at the Salle Le
Peletier on November 26, 1860 after a performance of Lucie de Lammermoor. The
principal dancers were Emma Livry (Farfalla/the Butterfly), Louis Mérante
(Prince Djalma), Louise Marquet (Fairy Hamza), and Mme. Simon (Diamond Fairy).
The “Valse des rayons” from the second scene of
Act 1 was re-used by Offenbach in the third act ballet for Die Rheinnixen
(1864) and parts of the score were inserted in the French version of Whittington, Le Chat du diable (1893).
Marius Petipa created an expanded staging in
four acts for the Imperial Ballet with Ludwig Minkus adapting Offenbach's
score. It was first presented in January 1874 at the Imperial Bolshoi Kamenny
Theatre in Saint Petersburg with Ekaterina Vazem (Farfalla/the Butterfly), Lev
Ivanov (Prince Djalma), Pavel Gerdt (Patimate), Mathil'da Madaeva (Fairy
Hamza), and Lubov Radina (Diamond Fairy). Petipa added a variation to the Grand
pas des papillons to a waltz by Luigi Venzano especially for Ekaterina Vazem –
this variation became known as the Pas
Vazem, and was much celebrated among the balletomanes of Saint Petersburg.
Ronald Hynd prepared a production for Houston
Ballet with his own adapted scenario and the score re-orchestrated by John
Lanchbery, which premiered on 8 February 1979. It entered the repertoire of the
Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet in Leeds on 7 February 1980. Described as Hynd’s
tribute to Emma Livry, the plot was pared down and reset in Persia with many of
the transformations and comic situations retained. But, compared to the
original 1860 material, the score is largely altered by Lanchberry who
integrates his own composition inside the main musical corpus, while changing
the numbers order and deleting a lot of the original Offenbach's score.
The original ballet was revived in a
reconstruction by Pierre Lacotte at the Rome Opera in 1982.
[4] Vernon and Irene Castle were a husband-and-wife
team of ballroom dancers and dance teachers who appeared on Broadway and in
silent films early in the early 20th century. They are credited with reviving
the popularity of modern dancing. Castle was a stage name: Vernon (2 May 1887 –
15 February 1918) was born William Vernon Blyth in Norwich, Norfolk, England.
Irene (17 April 1893 – 25 January 1969) was born Irene Foote in New Rochelle,
New York.
The couple reached the peak of their popularity
in Irving Berlin's first Broadway show, Watch Your Step (1914), in which they
refined and popularized the Foxtrot. They also helped to promote ragtime, jazz
rhythms and African-American music for dance. Irene became a fashion icon
through her appearances on stage and in early movies, and both Castles were in
demand as teachers and writers on dance.
After serving with distinction as a pilot in the
British Royal Flying Corps during World War I, Vernon died in a plane crash on
a flight training base in Texas in 1918. Irene continued to perform solo in
Broadway, vaudeville and motion picture productions over the next decade. She
remarried three times, had children and became an animal-rights activist. In
1939, her life with Vernon was dramatized in The Story of Vernon and Irene
Castle.
