1. Major libraries in this country that preserve the Yearbook include: The Library of Congress, The New York Public Library, and the Widener Library at Harvard University; the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor lacks issues for seasons 1906-07 and 1907-08; the University of Chicago (and possibly others) preserves the Yearbook on microfilm.

2. Bibliographies occasionally contain citations to three additional years, which would put the complete run of the Yearbook at 1890-1918. The four sets that I have consulted, all ostensibly complete, end with the 1915 issue. Theater activity in Russia was much curtailed by World War I and the revolution, and it is almost illogical to suppose that a publication with the Yearbook's tradition of expense and luxury would continue under wartime conditions. The first issue of the Yearbook of the State Academic Theaters, an obvious attempt by the new regime to maintain continuity with the old Yearbook, is dated 1918 and reflects in its austerity the difficulties of wartime theater. The similarity of titles and the date may have confused some bibliographers into believing the Yearbook continued without a break into the Soviet era, a belief which, in the absence of the missing issues, must be considered incorrect.

3. While each had its own clientele, the three companies were not completely independent of one another. Children in the theater school were trained in dance, music, languages and acting. Even after being selected to specialize in ballet a student would be expected to participate in an opera or play (usually as an extra) if this were dictated by the needs of the production. (The earlier the period of Russian history one considers, the more common this double duty would be.) At the professional level there was considerable interaction. Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov created ballets for operas as a normal part of their responsibilities, and both the drama and opera audiences had favorite dancers, often the ballet's leading character dancers. Their appearances were a frequent adornment to non-balletic theater, and some dances—like Felix Kshessinsky's mazurka, which he performed for over a half century—became legendary.

4. No doubt the complexity of this task, especially deciding what to publish from a vast accumulation of material, forced the editorship—which for the first issue appears to have been a group but whose names were not specified—into postponement, a fault of many later issues. It came out in February 1892, almost a year late.

5. Reference to illustrations calls to mind earlier Russian publications remarkable in this respect. Perhaps the most impressive of these, Rovinsky's, DanielRussian National Pictures [Russkija narodnyja kartinki], a study of folklore, was published at St. Petersburg in 1881Google Scholar. In addition to five volumes of translations and commentary, Rovinsky published supplemental volumes of large format illustrations, some on subjects relating to music and dance. Many of these were in color and some were foldouts that practically cover a modern desktop. For its day Rovinsky's work was a technical tour de force and is still a basic reference.

6. Recurring features are described below, pp. 11-14, and are summarized on the chart in Appendix A.

7. Diaghilev also included a facsimile of music from a new opera production (Cui's Saracen), a fancy touch that he used again in the programs for Musorgsky's, Boris Godunov in Paris, 1908Google Scholar.

8. Wolkonsky, Serge, My Reminiscences, tr. Chamot, A. E., 2 vols. (London, [1924]), II, 72Google Scholar.

9. It is only charitable to acknowledge that Teljakovsky, whose directorship was subject to continuous vicious criticism, showed great courage and persistence in the execution of his post. He acted as mediator between an aloof court and a host of demanding artists for the last sixteen years of tsardom's demise. He held the theaters together during the strike of 1905, and managed to retain at least the occasional services of great artists, such as Pavlova, Kshessinskaja and Shaljapin during a time of wholesale western migration. His decisions were not always defensible—what need had the imperial theaters of an extravagant new production of Bizet's Djamileh?—but occasionally they reflected a foresight, uncharacteristic of many of his predecessors. For example, he negotiated with Diaghilev (albeit unsuccessfully) to have some of Stravinsky's works produced in the imperial theaters.

10. We find, for example, in the 1901-02 issue a special section devoted to the tsar's private theater, the Hermitage. It contains several programs and another reproduction of a decorative program title-page by Somov, i.e., of the kind that Diaghilev had included for the first time in his own issue.

11. One might be tempted to construe the omission as a reprisal against the members of the St. Petersburg ballet who honored the 1905 strike. But this would not explain why the Moscow ballet was similarly neglected in the 1907-08 issue.

12. Any attempt to list in prose all the exceptions to regular occurrences of these features would be tedious. The reader is invited to consult Appendix A, where this information is presented in a table.