THIS is as near to the real thing that they produce in Russia as England is ever likely to see. It has the colour, imagery, decor, semi-savage rhythms of which Mussorgsky was so fond, that make the typical Russian entertainment and to which the proletariat crowd as the proletariat here crowds to the music hall and the cinema. The only difference is that the Russian proletariat arc getting real art and their western opposite numbers too often get trash.
Yee, Russia has nothing to learn from us in artistic entertainment. This production is a brilliant affair and after its three weeks' season the country is to see it. After all the floral bouquets which so many of the company were handed on the first night, the orchestra (London Symphony) and the chorus (most of whom are English girls) deserve at least a verbal bouquet—and here it is. G. C.