Last chance to see - Diaghilev and the Golden Age of the Ballets Russes

Great movements in fashion are always started by outsiders. The Establishment is, by definition, contented enough to maintain the status quo. Revolution comes from outside, fermented and brought to a peak by a simmering discontent that rarely, if ever, comes in gently. Revolutions are never gentle affairs. The Ballets Russes is a perfect example of this. Spawned by social, political and artistic discontent, and dreams of a different future, it hit Europe by leaping onto the stage in Paris in 1910 with the premiere of The Firebird, and nothing - in music, dance, art or fashion - could withstand it.

The man behind it was Serge Diaghilev, the impresario whose demand for the new was insatiable. Its strength withstood ridicule, disloyalty and frequent near-bankruptcy and enabled the dream to become reality. Diaghilev surrounded himself with talent. His natural instinct was to love only the best, with no budgetary constraints allowed to vitiate his vision or that of the artists who served it. And, because genius mixed with flamboyance – and Diaghilev had both – is a flame to a moth in the arts, his troupes of dancers, musical and artistic collaborators were world class. Stravinksy, Picasso, Nijinsky, Chanel – they don’t come higher than that.

Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes 1909–1929, at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (until 9 January 2011), is a huge sweep of an exhibition, taking in the grand gesture – Picasso’s 1924 front cloth for Le Train Bleu – and the tiny gem, such as the Matisse costumes for Le Chant du Rossignol. But for all the riches - and there are plenty - the heartbeat of this exhibition and the Ballets Russes itself is the dancing; specifically the dancing of Nijinsky. His spirit confronts you at every turn as you walk through the exhibition.

Music, art, fashion: the equation that gave us Teddy Boys, punk and hip hop; Elvis, Bruce Springsteen and Madonna; sex and drugs and rock and roll. And there is no doubt that, were they working today, Diaghilev and Nijinsky would not only be aware of, but also a part of, all the new ideas because they understood the need for rebellion. They rejected the conformity of the bourgeoisie. There is a clear line linking the wonders of the Ballets Russes to Vivienne Westwood and the Chapman brothers and that line is the path of revolution. But it is perhaps the influence Diaghilev and his costume designers, who included Chanel, had on colour, pattern and form that has most affected our daily lives by their impact on fashion. Christian Dior, Chanel and Yves Saint Laurent all acknowledged – and used – the vision of this amazing Russian impresario whose radical vision is still a potent force today.

A good exhibition needs a good catalogue, and Diaghilev, edited by Jane Pritchard, is exactly that. By no means the pretty, highly coloured picture book it could so easily have been, this is serious scholarship – but serious scholarship lightly worn. Winningly written and intelligently illustrated, it broadens and illuminates ever further this already broad, illuminating and unmissable exhibition.

Colin McDowell is a fashion historian and author of many books on the subject, including Fashion Today