Search This Blog

Monday, June 27, 2016

APACHES!

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.

1 comment: