Gene Kelly: A Life of Dance and Dreams.

IN THE POPULAR IMAGINATION, dance-ballet, anyway--in the United States can be divided into two neat halves: before Balanchine and after Balanchine. Not true, and an important book that fills in some hidden history of America's dance is The Christensen Brothers: An American Dance Epic by Debra Hickenlooper Sowell (Harwood Academic Publishers. 1999. 580 pages, illus. $77 or $32 paper. ISBN: 90 5755 029 6). The Christensen clan had long been involved in dance, part of their Danish heritage, beginning with Lars Christian Christensen, who played the violin often for social gatherings (also the horn in Brigham City's first brass band and in the orchestra of a theater company).

The second generation was also musical, and they also trained in the social dances of the day, including learning how to "call" a dance. Four sons became part of a select group who accompanied the Mormon Tabernacle Choir when it performed at the Chicago World's Fair, and the four oversaw a Christensen Dancing Academy. At least one of the four took summer courses in Boston, and in 1910 two of them--Frederic and Mose (it was originally Moses, but he disliked the name and subsequently dropped the final s)--joined the American National Association, Masters of Dancing, based in New York City. But it was a third brother, Chris, who fathered William (who changed his name to Willam for professional reasons), Harold, and Lewellyn. All three had the middle name of Farr, the maiden name of their mother.

All dance schools of that era taught social dance, "polite dancing." But unusually for that time, Willam, Harold, and Lew were given rudimentary training in ballet technique. They also saw Anna Pavlova and Alexandre Volinine perform in Salt Lake City, and the emigre teacher Stefano Mascagno came to teach one summer.

Willam was the self-starter, Lew the talented choreographer (Filling Station) and dancer (Balanchine's first American lead in Apollo), and Harold the dedicated teacher. In their search for security--there were no permanent companies at the time, and the stints with the Metropolitan Opera Ballet were artistically stifling--San Francisco became their focus and the usual civic ballet, ballet guild, performance route. But the bombing of Pearl Harbor threw all that into disarray. However, the San Francisco Opera offered its ballet school to the Christensens for $900. They accepted and the rest, as they say, is history.

As with dance sagas, there were family feuds, breakups, and disasters. But look at the accomplishments--Willam actually created two major companies, the San Francisco Ballet and Ballet West. The latter grew out of the University of Utah's dance department, ballet and not modern based, which in turn developed its own school as an independent company. Last of his endeavors was the Christensen Academy, a formidable record in dance education no less than in performance. The Christensen brothers were a major part of America's dance heritage, with Sowell giving remarkable attention to all three (an unwieldy undertaking accomplished with some grace). She also includes appendices that chronicle the choreography of Willam and Lew.

At his best, Gene Kelly accomplished on stage and in film a remarkable integration of dance styles (Gene Kelly: A Life of Dance and Dreams by Alvin Yudkoff, 1999, Back Stage Books. 262 pages, illus. $21.95. ISBN: 0-8230 8813 8). He caught the American spirit of experimentation. As an actor, too, he gave memorable interpretations--the title role in Pal Joey, and his cynical reporter in Inherit the Wind deftly caught the spleen, if not the character, of H.L. Mencken.

Kelly's was not an easy life. Like many, he had to struggle with a difficult childhood, becoming the main breadwinner of his family by heading the family dance studio. Yudkoff supplies some of the missing parts of Kelly's autobiography (which Yudkoff quotes) to show the complete man. But when all is said and done, it is Kelly's accomplishments on film that show his stature and those should be rented and savored: On the Town, An American in Paris, Brigadoon, Singin' in the Rain, and especially, Invitation to the Dance.

This guide for both amateurs of dance and professionals, The Dance: A Handbook for the Appreciation of the Choreographic Experience by Joan Cass (1999, McFarland, 240 pages, illus. $36.50. ISBN: 0-7864 0147 8), examines theatrical dance from ballet to modern to jazz dance. She also investigates some of the behind-the-scenes aspects of dance, such as musical considerations, costuming, and set design. There is even some sociology in the chapter Gods and Goddesses, which examines superstardom as well as the stages of an artist's life.

In some ways, this book seems designed as a college text for both dance history and appreciation. Happily, it doesn't descend into academese, and it can be appreciated by dancers wanting to know more about their art. Good observations about some aspects of dance are based on experience over fifty years of observing dance. Her re marks carry authority.

Did we need another book about the enfant terrible of ballet? National Ballet of Canada member Linda Maybarduk obviously thinks so, based on her own encounters with the man as student and later as partner, The Dancer Who Flew: A Memoir of Rudolf Nureyev (1999, Tundra Books, 180 pages, illus. $18.95. ISBN: 088776 415 0). Nureyev was the godfather of her daughter.

This is a feel-good biography that hits the high points of the dancer's life, only touching fleetingly on his flaws and excusing them in the name of art and accomplishment. There is not a lot new here and previous biographies have examined the realities and myths (often self-developed) of Nureyev. What Maybarduk's book does convey is the charm the man had and what it did to those who basked in it.

Glenn Giffin, dance critic for the Denver Post, is also curator of the Carson-Brierly Dance Library at the University of Denver in Colorado.