In eighteenth century Philadelphia the evolution of cultivated society closely followed-or rather kept step with-developments among the English elite. Colonists considered Bath, England to be “the centre of refined Colonial Society”, and those who could afford the time and expense visited there in order to attend plays, participate in assemblies, and absorb the latest trends in fashion and culture. Following the British model, one important attainment of any colonial gentleman or lady was grace of physical manner, evidenced in good part by skill in dancing. These manners and skills could best be appreciated in assemblies of polite society, assemblies where refined conversation, dancing, card-playing, and supping frequently provided the forum for social mingling.

Philadelphia was among the first of American cities to formalize such gatherings when, in 1749, a group of gentlemen who led the city's political, professional and mercantile life joined together in establishing the Philadelphia Assembly, sometimes also called the Dancing Assembly. As early as 1753 the fame and gentility of this assembly had spread to England, for Walter Ewer, Jr. wrote from London to his cousin William Sword in Philadelphia to ask if the latter had ever attended the city's Assembly, which Ewer wrote was reported to be “a fine one”. Another source recalled that “the dancing assembly among the gentry had high vogue, partaking, before the Revolution, of the aristocratic feelings of a monarchial government”.

The purpose of this study was to examine basic psychophysiological response levels in professional ballet dancers and the effects of different performances on these responses. Electrical activity of the trapezius muscle, blood pressure, heart rate, and skin-conductance level were measured during a resting state and before, during, and after rehearsals, first-night performances, and shows performed from 10 to 50 times. Subjective mental tension during performance was evaluated, as was performance success. The influence of sex, age, experience, artistic level, role, and the type of performance were studied.

Principals had less tension in the trapezius muscle in the resting state than corps de ballet dancers and soloists. Principals' psychophysiological activation during performances was increased more than that of soloists and corps de ballet dancers as compared with baseline values. The type of performance influenced subjective mental tension and physiological responses. During the last general rehearsals (with an audience) physiological activation was higher than during first-night and other performances. Age and experience did not affect physiological activation. Sex differences in subjectively estimated success and mental tension, as well as in physiological measurements, were small.

The Green Table is unique on our stages. In the late 20th century no one is dancing anything quite like it. This is not only because of its age–many ballets are older but look modern. Dancers almost unconsciously speak in the idiom of their time, steadily and imperceptibly polishing the patina off old artifacts to keep them fresh. I think even in well-preserved ballets there is much that is not prescribed, many expressive choices that aren't even acknowledged. When a dancer learns a role, he or she tries to accomodate to the steps, to own them. Most often, the steps end up accomodating to the dancer. They end up looking contemporary, whatever their origin.

The Green Table is an exception. Its production style and its dance idiom are attached to the late-expressionist period, that remote phase of cultural history between the great wars, so earnest in its innocence and anger, its fears and its ironies. Because of his particular method of fitting image to action, Kurt Jooss gave us a document that insists on telling us about its time, even as it reflects into our own.

The goal of expressionistic art, literature, and music was to use emotion and memory as a conduit to more universal feelings. Unlike the Romantics, to whom they were related, the expressionists did not view their art solely as a personal outcry. Expressionism nearly always had a spiritual component. This took the direction not of personal uplift or ecstasy, but of a surge toward the cosmos. Expressionists wanted to know and dramatize their connections with nature, with archeological time, with mystery and magic, and with other human beings living in their own time and place. Early expressionism unleashed a chaotic, anarchic freedom that often looked like madness. After the real trauma of World War I, artists began to draw back from those limitless, destabilized, early visions, into the safety of more rational, formal structures.