On September 14, 1927, dancer Isadora Duncan is strangled in Nice, France, when the enormous silk scarf she is wearing gets tangled in the rear hubcaps of her open car. (“Affectations,” said Gertrude Stein when she heard the news of Duncan’s death, “can be dangerous.”)
Isadora Duncan was born in 1877 in San Francisco and moved to Europe to become a dancer when she was in her early 20s. She had always loved to dance—in her teens, she worked as a dance teacher at her mother’s music school—but Duncan was not a classically trained ballerina. On the contrary, she was a free-spirited bohemian whose dances were improvisational and emotional; they were choreographed, she said, “to rediscover the beautiful, rhythmical motions of the human body.” In contrast to the short tutus and stiff shoes that ballet dancers wore, Duncan typically danced barefoot, wrapped in flowing togas and scarves. Female audiences, in particular, adored her: In an era when classical ballet was falling out of favor with many sophisticated people (and when the scantily-clad dancers themselves were, more often than not, “sponsored” by wealthy male patrons), Duncan’s performances celebrated independence and self-expression.
