『Ella Nazimova』のカバーアート

Ella Nazimova

Ella Nazimova

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Alla Nazimova was one of the brightest, boldest, and most complicated figures of early Hollywood — a woman who refused to live small. Born in 1879 in Yalta, on the Crimean coast, she survived a lonely childhood and strict Russian schooling before finding her calling on the stage. Trained at the Moscow Art Theatre under Stanislavski, she carried a fire and intensity that would soon make her a sensation on Broadway.



In New York, critics described her as “volcanic,” “mystical,” and utterly unlike any actress they had ever seen. She became America’s great interpreter of Ibsen, bringing characters like Hedda Gabler and Nora from A Doll’s House to life with a ferocity that felt shockingly modern. Audiences either adored her or were unsettled by her, but they never forgot her.



Hollywood came calling, and Alla transformed herself once again — this time into a silent film queen. She starred in hits like War Brides (1916), Revelation (1918), and Camille (1921) with Rudolph Valentino. At her peak, she earned $13,000 a week (nearly $300,000 in today’s money) and wielded the kind of creative power almost no woman of her era could touch. She wasn’t just acting — she was producing, shaping films, and insisting on daring, artistic risks.



Her boldest gamble was Salomé (1923), an avant-garde film inspired by Aubrey Beardsley’s queer, erotic illustrations. It was stylized, sapphic, and unapologetic, filled with long gazes between women and men alike. By all accounts, nearly every major actor in the film was queer, making it one of Hollywood’s earliest queer ensembles. But audiences in 1923 weren’t ready. Critics mocked it as bizarre and indulgent, and the fact that Alla — then in her forties — played the teenage Salomé gave them more fuel. Today it’s celebrated as a queer masterpiece, but at the time, it financially ruined her and marked the beginning of her fall from Hollywood’s graces.



If Salomé revealed her artistic daring, her private life revealed her defiance of social norms. Alla created The Garden of Alla on Sunset Boulevard — a lush, wild estate that became a queer Eden for Hollywood’s outsiders. Writers, actors, and free spirits gathered for legendary parties where people could dance, swim, love, and simply exist without hiding. It was sanctuary and scandal rolled into one, and for many, it was the first place they could truly breathe.



Her personal life reflected the same contradictions. In 1912 she entered a “lavender marriage” with actor Charles Bryant, a partnership that provided cover for them both — until Bryant remarried a woman in 1925, exposing his union with Alla as a sham. For him it was survivable; for her, combined with the fallout from Salomé, it devastated her reputation. Women were expected to be pure, and queer women especially were punished when they broke that image. Alla was branded decadent, immoral, and dangerous — a woman who had deceived Hollywood.



Yet even in decline, Alla’s influence endured. She coined the phrase “the sewing circle” as a code for Hollywood’s network of lesbian and bisexual women — a secret sisterhood that included stars like Eva Le Gallienne and Mercedes de Acosta. She may have been forced to the margins, but she gave queer women a language, a circle, a lifeline.



In her later years, she returned to the stage and even appeared in small film roles — most notably in Escape (1940) and Blood and Sand (1941), where she reprised a role she had played decades earlier in the silent era. These weren’t comebacks to stardom, but they were reminders of her artistry, of Hollywood’s debt to her, and of a woman who never stopped creating.



Alla died in 1945 at age 66, leaving behind a complicated legacy: stage revolutionary, silent film queen, queer trailblazer, and creator of one of Hollywood’s first queer havens. She was dazzling, contradictory, and ahead of her time.

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