The Social Etiquette & Politics of Dance (2005)

Dance during the last half of the 17th century reached an unprecedented role of importance both socially and politically.  The French court under Louis
XIV became the paradigm of elegance and civil behavior, emulated by the other courts of Europe.  Dancing masters, who were employed throughout
Europe, not only taught dance technique but the rules of social etiquette.  A crucial emphasis was placed on image in the court, and dance was the most
visual display ofaristocratic “mystique”.  Through stringent social standards, King Louis XIV used dance as a political tool to ensure his absolute
authority.

Though social dance had been an integral part of court life for centuries, never before had it held so predominant a role as during the reign of Louis XIV.
Born on September 5, 1638, Louis’s birth was celebrated by the Ballet de la Félicité (Au 18).  Ascending the throne by the age of five, his mother Anne
of Austria ruled as regent under the guidance of Cardinal Jules Mazarin, the First Minister and godfather to the young king (Shennan 8).  With a child
on the throne and a foreign minister ruling the country with a foreign queen, many nobles began to stir up civil unrest with seditious activity.  Blood
princes of the crown and the parliament of Paris were reluctant to allow the regents to make legislative decisions without being consulted.  In such
a time of national weakness, several nobles who had distant claims to the throne also saw this as an opportune moment to try to claim power for
themselves (Shennan 10).  These uprising, occurring between 1648 and 1653, were known as the Frondes (Franko 109).  With threats to both his
throne and his life, Louis and his mother were forced to escape from Paris on numerous occasions.  (Nicolson 20). Because of these rebellions,
citizens began to lose faith in the court government of France.  Mazarin, wishing to re-establish the court’s power, used Louis and his talent for
dancing to create an aura of divinity around the personage of the king (Hilton 5). 

When Louis gained absolute power in 1661, he was determined to keep control of the nobility who had so treacherously rebelled against him[1].
He never forgot the fear and danger caused by the rebellions, and he knew that several of the perfidious men still remained in positions of power. 
After Mazarin’s death that year, he did not appoint a new First Minister to his High Council.  Social and political attacks levied against Mazarin
during the Frondes showed Louis how much the position could weaken his monarchical authority (Shennan 13).  Mistrusting any group in his
government that could potentially divide the kingdom, he augmented the army to 400,000 soldiers, and eventually moved the entire court to his
opulent palace at Versailles (Lee 66).  More than anything, Louis wanted order in all his affairs.  This was seen most clearly in the social hierarchy
and rules governing his court.  To keep strict reign over the nobles, he initiated a stringent protocol of behavior through etiquette.  Courtiers were
kept busy with trifling matters, and lived around the king’s schedule so as to divert their attention. 

Fully adhering to the traditional belief in the Divine Right of Kings, Louis enhanced the ceremonial customs held around the monarchy in France.
In 1656 he took the Sun as his official signia and began to develop an aura of power and divinity around himself (Kirstein 75).  This move was
part of his “le métier du roi” or craft of kingship.  The image of the sun-face began to appear in the art and architecture all over Versailles.  Louis
referred to his throne room as the “Salon of Apollo” and his favorite role in the court ballets was that of Apollo the sun god (Blitzer 74).  The
king’s bed was placed at the exact center axis of the entire Versailles compound (Cohen 82).  His choice of symbol has obvious implications.  Since
the ancient Egyptians, the sun has symbolized a necessary or inevitable power.  The sun gives energy, life, and light (which in itself implies moral
goodness and truth).  The movement of the sun largely governs human society, and the concept of a solar system revolving around the sun (instead
of the Earth) was relatively new.  However, Louis XIV’s use of the sun symbol was not merely a metaphor, but was heightened to achieve a physical
fulfillment of cosmic order (Cohen 88).  Louis was morphing his image into the “king-god” (Kirstein 86).  Even material objects associated with the
king became sacred because they represented him.  In court, it was seen as an offense to turn one’s back on a portrait of the king, or to not genuflect
when entering his unoccupied bedchamber.  Even when waiting for the king to arrive at his own table for a meal, one had to wear a hat (Burke 90).
Portraits of the king were often used to stand in for him at council meetings when he was away, a constant reminder of his austere presence (Cohen 15). 

The lives of the courtiers revolved around the king’s daily schedule, not an accidental living analogy with the sun’s centrality in life.  The day
began at 8 in the morning, when the king’s Valet-de-Chambre woke him, and the First Physician and First Surgeon attended to him.  At a
quarter past, the Great Chamberlain was admitted to the room with the members of the court who had the grandes entrées privilege.  The Great
Chamberalin would draw the bed curtains and offer the king holy water.  The king said prayers, and the rest of the court was then admitted to
the room.  He dressed himself, and was shaved every other day.  When this was concluded, he retired to his study with certain members of the
court who were also permitted to do so, and the king would announce his schedule for the day.  The court would then wait in the Gallery while
the king finished private business with family members, and all would attend Mass.  This was followed by meetings with the council, and
concluded the morning lever (Saint-Simon 165). 

Diner began when the king was served in his bedchamber and the principal courtiers attended.  Everyone stood throughout the meal, with the
exception of the king’s brother who had the honor of handing the king his napkin, and would occasionally be invited to sit.  Women were
never present at this meal.  The meal was followed by some private time in his study, and then an outdoor activity such as hunting or walking
through the gardens.  There would often be another council meeting in the afternoon, or leisurely card games.  Souper began at 10 at night with
the entire royal family in attendance and the court looking on.  This was followed by some leisurely time with the family in his bedchamber.
When he wished to retire (coucher), he said more prayers, undressed, and bowed to indicate “good night” and the court would retire (Saint-Simon
166).

It is paradoxical that the king should gain such a status of near divinity in his court by being so fully seen throughout the day carrying on
normal human activities. Every action of Louis XIV was carefully staged and often symbolic.  As Philippe Erlanger stated, “He was magical, but
not mysterious; he rose and set like the sun… [dwelling in] Versailles, temple of the sun” (Kirstein 86).  This idea of “performing identity” became
an integral part of court life. According to Méré, the “character best suited to a role to be enacted and that best fits the person who plays it, is the
principal impetus of decorum” (Cohen 16).  A great portion of being aristocratic involved careful presentation of self, abilities, and education.
How one dressed, spoke, comported oneself and performed were all visible signs of breeding and class. Courtiers spent much of their “spare” time
working on all of these things, as they were on permanent display for the king and each other (Cohen 4).  The Duc de La Rochefoucauld astutely
pointed out that “in all professions, every person affects a look and a countenance to appear as he would like to be perceived; thus one can say that
the world is composed of nothing but outward appearances” (Cohen 5). With so much thought, time, and energy being spent on promoting this
“mystique of nobility” Louis was occupying his courtier’s time, even without being present.  By constantly being in their sight, they were
perpetually in his, and by this he kept his friends close and his potential enemies closer.

The king saw the ideological and political potential of dance, as well as taking personal delight in the art.  According to court chronicler DuBois,
“The king danced a ballet before a great crowd.  He amuses himself by dancing and watching others dance…He studies in the morning after saying
his prayers, then he takes dancing lessons, does exercises with weapons…then takes lunch, usually with his ten violins playing very prettily” (Kirstein
78).  The ornate court ballets gave prestige to France.  And, by making dance one of the most important social functions at court, Louis was able to
control the nobles by controlling the dance, thus keeping the country stable.  Having centralized control of dance, the king robbed the nobles of a
vehicle for petty competition amongst themselves.  In doing so, he was able to maintain unity and control.

Courtiers began training in dance, deportment, and social etiquette from early childhood (Hilton 3).  Children often started formal life as early as
the age of ten, and were expected to behave as adults.  In his dance instruction manual The Dancing Master, Pierre Rameau states that “...good
breeding demands that pleasing and easy manner which can only be gained by dancing” (2).  Dance was considered to embody ideal Greek
attributes such as wit, serenity, breadth of vision, love of harmony and order, personal courage, irony, fun, and a distaste of passionate
excesses.  The French nobility, aristocracy, and gentry were supposed to strive to be models of self-perfection.  They looked to the mythological
Greek gods and goddesses as examples (Hilton 3). While courtly refinement should truly emanate from within, its effects were best complemented
by one’s visual social accomplishments and taste. Aristocrats were also to have a “personal grace” or indefinable air about them at all times
(Cohen 13).  Louis XIV seems to have been a great model of this.  Dominique de Bouhours wrote of the king, “There is in his entire person a
quality, and a majestic je ne sais quoi which so well distinguishes him, that people who have never before seen him need not ask where he is
when they see him in a carousel or in a ballet” (Cohen 15).  This air or complaisance was a studied look of nonchalance, an easy control over
emotional response.  Thisvirtue separated the nobility from the ill-bred or awkward members of lower social classes (Wynne 23).   

The technique of etiquette, as taught by the dancing masters of the age, was ideally simple.  The modern day belief that there were many flourishes of
hats or handkerchiefs is erroneous.  In truth, only affected fops or conceited individuals would use such exaggeration.  The truly “well-bred” person
of fashion remained poised at all times, yet had to appear completely natural (Hilton 269).  Using the physical body as the subject of spectacle both
on and off stage further intensified this paradox of “artful nature” (Cohen 13).  This basic concept is also a fundamental precept of modern ballet. 

Much of the 17th century dance technique was the origin of contemporary steps in classical ballet.  At all times, ladies and gentlemen were to be
conscious of their physical stance and bearing.  Ballet was meant to correct the faults one was born with, and give the whole body “that easy air and
that grace which, through one’s every movement, radiate such great charm” (Cohen 17).  Rameau instructed that “a lady, however graceful her
deportment, will be judged... For example, if she hold her head erect and her body upright, without affectation or boldness, it will be said: ‘There
goes a fine lady’” (31).  Acceptable postures for standing, in the case of gentlemen, were named the third and fourth positions, analogous to those
used in modern technique (Hilton 273).  The plié, particularly as used in the first position, emanated from a ladies’ bow.  Standing with feet well
turned out, a lady was meant to keep her body and head upright as she bended the knees while lowering her gaze. If she was bowing to an individual
of high social status, her bow must be made lower, requiring excellent balance.  The step commonly known today as chassé originated from the
passing curtsy of a lady into the fourth position (Hilton 270-271). 

Such obeisances, according to Rameau, showed respect and good breeding in an individual, not servility (25).  In aristocratic and courtly life,
obeisances were made for a large number of reasons.  One was required to bow when entering or leaving a room, in greeting or in passing of an
individual, when presenting a gift or handing an item to someone, and at the end of a conversation.  The simple movement of the bow revealed
a person’s social background and upbringing.  Obeisances were performed so often in company that standing seemed to be an interruption (Hilton
270-271).  Wildebloode and Brinson describe the importance of bowing by saying “. . . every action of the well-bred gentleman now expressed
something of that refined reserve which for generations to come was to be the hallmark of polite society” (Hilton 269). 

These strict rules were especially important during balls at the French court.  During the first half of the king’s reign, balls were held nearly every
week. During wars in foreign countries, the expense of which drained the finances, more balls were held to maintain the appearance of grandeur
and power.  In 1708, it is recorded that ten balls were given within a six-week period (Hilton 18).  In order to perform well at these balls, courtiers
needed not only grace and elegance, but also a keen intellect.  Each year, the courtiers were expected to learn between two and four new dances, as
well as to retain the old dances they had previously learned.  At any given time, a courtier had to have approximately twelve dances at the ready,
both in mind and body.  Each dance was two or three minutes in length without repeating step patterns.  In order that the footwork would
harmoniously express the notes of the musical composition, patterns and steps within dances were seldom repetitive (Hilton 11-12).  During the
reign of Louis XIV, social dance reached its height of complexity, for this was the most sophisticated dance technique required of non-professionals. 

Appropriate procedures for balls clearly reflected the social ranking of the court.  A ball would begin whenever the king so decided, and he
signaled this by rising.  The court, in response, would also rise and an obeisance would be made.  Then the danses à deux would begin, in which
one couple performed alone before the court.  The first dance was typically a branle, followed by a gavotte, courante or menuet.  The order of the
dancers was chosen by social rank, the highest dancing first. This was always the king and queen, and the court was required to stand whenever the
king was dancing.  They were followed by the blood relatives of the crown, and so on down the line of precedence.  These danses à deux clearly
allowed everyone in the court to judge the quality of the dancers performing, and of the choreographic patterns (Hilton 11).  Performing these dances
well was a distinguishing mark and a requirement for civilized life (Rameau 4).  Even in the ballroom, there was a visual symbol of the king’s authority
because he was the central axis of the mirrored floor patterns of the dances (Cohen 46).

One of the most popular dances from this period was the menuet.  Performed for nearly two centuries, the menuet was considered to be “a
perfect expression of the artifice surrounding luxurious palace life.”  The Menuet was probably derived from a folk dance of Western France known as
The Branle de Poitou, and was introduced in court by Lully in 1653.  Though the movement of the dance has great potential for energy and vivacity,
it was performed with control and precision, in keeping with good manners.  Full of ceremonies, customs, and mincing steps, the dance became more
slow and stately as time wore on, giving the menuet a hypnotic quality (Lee 73). It is unique from many of the other partner dances, for the performers
directly face each other throughout most of the dance.  Usually, court dances were done for the aesthetic pleasure of the viewers.  Because of this direct
facing, the focus between the dancers had the potential to be very intense, but facial expression was to remain modest and clear (Hilton 292).  In order
to further enhance this modesty, dancers often wore masks, especially on stage. Masquerade balls were often held at court, and during such events the
normal rules of social decorum were relaxed.  The respect due to certain members of the court was not required because the mask became their identity.
The self was hollow; it was easier for courtiers to identify with an antiquated hero or legend, or to feel free of social restraint by taking on a fanciful
character. It could also be said that all court manners were a mask of politeness (Kirstein 75).

Major spectacles involving dance, music, and poetry were also an integral part of courtly life.  At the age of fifteen, Louis performed as Apollo
the Sun god in Le Ballet de la Nuit.  In this allegorical dance, Louis was the rising sun, dispelling the darkness and being praised by virtues.
Louis turned his own remarkable skill at dancing into a demonstration of noble accomplishment, using the brilliant mechanics of ballet as a visible
proof of kingship (Cohen 17).  He was compared to the classical heroes, and rendered as a great and majestic man by artists.  In his earlier years, the
king took daily dancing lessons, and surrounded himself with the most talented artists to create his court ballets.  These ballets de cour were meant
to encourage a sense of unity amid the nobles, and almost always had an allegorical theme of unity and harmony, combined with praise of
the monarch (Au 23). 

Talent, not social status, determined casting in the court ballets and spectacles, unlike the social ballroom setting.  Therefore, in order for a
nobleman to maintain his dignity, he had to excel at dance (Hilton 4).  That courtiers danced supporting roles with the king was yet another
symbol of their unity and loyalty to the young monarch (Cohen 34).  Because roles were awarded on technical merit, lower ranking nobles or
members of entirely different classes were able to dance beside the king. Great artists such as Beauchamps and Lully were prime examples of
the king compromising his “aristocratic circle” of performers to enhance the art of dance.  Professional dancers were often used in court ballets
if a role was felt to be below a nobleman’s dignity, or if it required a higher level of proficiency.  During this time, some of the first professional
women danced in the court ballets.  In 1661, Mademoiselle Vertpré danced opposite the king himself in the Ballet de l’Impatience, and many
other women are on record as having performed (Au 23).  At this time, court women took part in the ballets, unless professional male dancers
were used, for then it was considered unsuitable for highborn ladies to appear with them (Clarke and Crisp 22).

In 1662 as one of his first assertions of public power, the king held a Carousel in Paris for both the court and the common people.  On the
first day, the king performed in a number of capacities, both martial and artistic.  On the third day when the king did not perform, his dancing
master Pierre Beauchamps performed his role in the comedie-ballet.  This highly choreographed and elaborate spectacle was meant to enhance
the image of the king and his court to the public.  To that end, a commemorative book was published by Charles Perrault and made available
for purchase.  The posterity of the spectacle was important for the king’s valiance and physical capacity as “the most adroit and the most
magnificent.”  By performing in these public displays, the courtiers could also demonstrate that they possessed the refinements of art and
nature “over all nations of the earth” (Cohen 67-68).  The Parisian public clamored to such amazing presentations, and several more fêtes were
held in Paris or Versailles and were commemorated in engravings.  The king clearly saw the political importance of these displays.  “This
community of pleasures,” wrote Louis, “that produces a courteous familiarity between our courtiers and ourselves strikes them and charms them
beyond words. The people, on the other hand, enjoy a spectacle, which, basically, is always aimed at pleasing them…We sometimes hold their
minds and their hearts more effectively by this, perhaps, than by rewards and favors” (Cohen 69).  In keeping with his use of self-image to
maintain power, many of the statuaries in the gardens of Versailles were also commemorative of the king’s roles in the ballets, and thus a
continuation of his presence.  The Apollo Fountain, seen at the end of the main path, depicting the sun god rising in his horse-drawn chariot
from the water, was a clear reference to the king’s role in one of the spectacles held in the garden (Cohen 73). 

This new style of dancing developed in Louis XIV’s court was called the danse noble.  Written about by numerous dancing masters of
the period, new systems of notation were developed to record the choreographed dances.  This helped spread the popularity of the style to all
the courts of Europe and the colonies in America.  Raoul Auger Feuillet first published his notation system (believed to have been created by
Beauchamps) in 1700.  These notations were not only used by dancing masters, but were sold to the general public.  They remained in print
for 25 years, a clear testament to their popularity both as dance score and visual art (Cohen 127). This was part of the growing phenomenon
of aristocratic style as a marketable commodity.  The court was literally selling its own image to the consuming public through such dance
spectacles.  In turn, people of different ranks could learn to emulate the noble style.  Professional dancers were a prime example of a lower
social class portraying the “noble accomplishment” through their physicality (Cohen 40).  In La Bruyère’s popular publication Caractéres,
he points out that the French aristocracy is the monkey of royalty, and Paris the monkey of the court, for they blindly imitate the vagaries of
fashion set by those of higher rank (Cohen 142). However, many dance theorists criticized the new style, complaining that the convoluted
floor patterns were merely to cover the lack of ability in the court performers.

In 1661, Louis wrote the Letters Patent for L’Académie Royale de Danse.  Saying that few of the nobles were worthy to dance in his
court ballets, the king blamed the nobility for laxness and irresponsibility in dance technique.  He saw dance as a central point of
culture in France.  The Letters Patent actually called for a political reform, though this meaning was masked and only alluded to (Franko
100).  He established the Royal Academy of Dance to “re-establish the art in its perfection” (Clarke and Crisp 18).  Though the main
concern of the academy was social and courtly dances, the king kept artists organized and under his official authority and service.  No
new choreographic works were permitted to be performed without first auditioning before the academy and receiving a majority vote.
Dancers in Paris were required to register their names and addresses with the academy (Franko 110).  This gave the king complete control
over dance both in the court and in the city.  Soon after in 1670, Louis retired from theatrical dancing, and, as protocol demanded, the
courtiers retired with him (Lee 71).  With the king’s retirement, ballet became a field for professionals, yet many of the dances
choreographed for stage were often adapted to the ballroom (Hilton 9).  Going to the opera also became a great social ritual, as much a
performance for the audience as for the dancers (Guest 17).  Though most ballets were premiered for the king and the court throughout
the 1670s and 1680s, everyone had to purchase admission to the opera.  The seating inside was, again, a visible sign of the social
hierarchy (Cohen134).  Because ballet development shifted from the courts to the theater, it did not become extinct during
the French Revolution at the end of the 18th century.

Louis de Rouvroy, second Duc de Saint-Simon was an avid diarist and courtier during the second half of the king’s reign.  In
his Mémoires, he detailed the etiquette, behavior, rules of precedence, and every day life of courtiers under Louis XIV in the last
decades of his reign.  In one of his entries, the important use of dance for maintaining social standing is clear:

I cannot resist telling about one perfectly ridiculous thing which happened to…the son of Montbron, who was no more competent
to dance at a court ball than his father was to be a member of the Order.  This young man, who hardly ever appeared at court
before, partnered Mlle de Moreuil….On being asked if he danced well, he had replied with such self-confidence that everyone
hoped he would prove to be no good.  They were satisfied.  At the very first bow he lost his nerve, and he got out of step in the
first movement.  He tried to recover himself and to hide his mistakes with languishing airs and exaggerated movements with
his arm.  This only made him more ridiculous; there were smiles, then laughter, and finally, in spite of the presence of the
King, real barracking.  The next day, instead of going away or keeping quiet, he went about saying that the King’s presence
had put him off and promising marvels for the next ball.  He was a friend of mine and I really felt for him.  In fact I would
have warned him had I not though that my own success would have made anything I said seem ungracious[2].  At the second
ball, as soon as he took the floor everyone stood up to watch, and those at the back climbed on anything there was to climb
on; there were derisive cheers and even applause.  Everyone, including the King, was sick with laughter, and I don’t suppose
anything like it had ever happened to anyone before.  Young Montbron disappeared immediately afterwards and did not
come back for a long time (Saint-Simon11-12).

Clearly, the people of the court subjected themselves to the whims, ambitions and egoism of one man, who was described to
have “that terrifying Majesty so natural to the King” (Hilton 3).  The life and fashion of the French court was extremely popular.
Society, which attempted to replicate the court ideals, held rules that were almost draconian.  Every movement made had to be
well considered and exact.  Elegance through simplicity was a main goal of dance technique.  “Dancing adds graces to the gifts
which nature has bestowed upon us, by regulating the movements of the body and setting it in its proper positions” (Rameau xii).
By using dance as a vehicle for ensuring political power, Louis XIV helped establish ballet as a singular art form.  The modes
of fashion, etiquette, and dance that were set up in the French court for the king’s own political reasons dominated the
culture of Europe for nearly two centuries.

Works Cited

Au, Susan. Ballet and Modern Dance. London: Thames and Hudson, 1988.

Blitzer, Charles. Age of Kings. New York: Time Incorporated, 1967.

Burke, Peter.  The Fabrication of Louis XIV.  New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992.

Clarke, Mary, and Clement Crisp. Ballet: An Illustrated History. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1973.

Cohen, Sarah R.  Art, Dance, and the Body in French Culture of the Ancient Régime.  Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

Franko, Mary. Dance as Text. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.

Guest, Ivor. The Ballet of the Englightenment. London: Dance Books, 1996.

Hilton, Wendy. Dance and Music of Court and Theater. New York: Pendragon Press, 1981.

Kirstein, Lincoln.  Four Centuries of Ballet: 50 Masterworks.  New York: Dover Publications, 1984. 

Lee, Carol. Ballet in Western Culture. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1999.

Mitford, Nancy.  The Sun King.  London: Penguin Books, 1966.

Nicolson, Harold. The Age of Reason. New York: Doubleday and Co., 1961.

Rameau, Pierre. The Dancing Master. Trans: Cyril W. Beaumont. New York: Dance Horizons      Republications, 1970.

Saint-Simon.  Memoirs.  Trans: Desmond Flower.  New York: Heritage press, 1959.

Schwartz, Judith L., and Christena L. Schlundt. French Court Dance and Dance Music. New York: Pendragon Press, 1987.

Shennan, J. H.  Louix XIV.  London: Routledge, 1986.

Wynne, Shirley.  “Complaisance, An Eighteenth-Century Cool.”  Dance Scope. 5.1 (1970): 22-35.