Added to the bonanza of popular novelties (in the Romantic period) were the new dances. The waltz had begun the procession; now other countries outside the Occident were drawn on and the repertory of the rustics as well. The polka, the mazurka from Poland, the seguidilla from Spain, the galop, and other rural brawls were adopted or adapted to dainty shoes and polished floors. In every country the citizenry were tripping it to the tunes of another nation. Chopin did not disdain using these rhythms of his native land for enchanting concert pieces, and a host of lesser musicians exploited the vogue by composing in every one of the species for ballroom use.I was listening to Berlioz' Symphonie Fantastique while typing this. Very, very enjoyable.
Of the waltz it must be said that it effected a radical change in manners; indeed, it marks a date in the history of sexuality. All dancing has this carnal component, but for centuries its full enjoyment was the privilege of the rural lower classes alone. City people deemed it their duty to civilization to limit themselves to figure dances, the entire company moving gracefully in set patterns. The steps were reduced to measured walking, with curtsying at intervals and touching hands only for turns or shifts of partners.
The waltz, originating in Germany, changed all that. As mentioned before, it had long been a pasatime for artisans in their guilds and when transplanted brought with it the traditional tune of "Ach, du lieber Augustin." What words and music did was to break up forever the elegant dance of groups into couples and to turn the diffident romp into a whirl. The shock of seeing (and being) the sexes paired in a close clutch and moving in 3/4 time at a dizzy speed was severe and prolonged. Resignation to the indecency (on the usual ground of "there is nothing to do; it has come to stay") took over a decade. Byron wrote a short satirical poem "The Waltz" in 1812; Berlioz in 1830 was free to make the second movement of his Symphonie Fantastique a waltz. [Read Byron and listen to Berlioz.]
Except for the enterprise of one devotee, the violinist Baillot, chamber music was little appreciated in Paris. Goethe, who much enjoyed it, ...
His description of the dancing we see in the Jane Austen movies is spot on. And now I understand those dances even more: measured walking interspersed with occasional curtsying.
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