Partly cloudy early followed by cloudy skies overnight The family of Marie Jeanne Raoul Hermann announce her passing in Pont L’Abbe her education included degrees from the French Maitrise de Sciences economiques diplome d’etudes appliquees de l’unstitute de gestion de Rennes and also received diplome d’etude applice de l’unstitute de Rennes She was also educated in economics and law Marie worked in Paris as a market researcher and moved to Haiti in 1985 to work on a French Government project and also conducted European surveys for U.S She established a water sports business at Honeymoon Beach she was a professor in the Business Division at the University of the Virgin Islands from 1992 until December 2018 when she retired She fondly spoke of their accomplishments after graduation and had an immense source of pride in them all which included her father being noted for his bravery during WWII when he refused to leave a prisoner of war camp for five years Marie is survived by her son Tristan Hermann Your browser is out of date and potentially vulnerable to security risks.We recommend switching to one of the following browsers: Account processing issue - the email address may already exist Would you like to receive our daily news? Signup today Invalid password or account does not exist Submitting this form below will send a message to your email with a link to change your password An email message containing instructions on how to reset your password has been sent to the email address listed on your account An early form of color photography called autochrome gave pictures a "wonderful luminosity." "That's one thing that's unique about the autochromes that you don't see with modern photos—that beautiful painterly look," says Bill Bonner image collection archivist at National Geographic Few outlets used autochromes to greater effect than National Geographic. The first natural color photograph to appear in National Geographic magazine was an Autochrome depicting a flower garden in Belgium, published in 1914 (see that picture) The archives of National Geographic have almost 15,000 glass autochrome plates one of the largest collections in the world But by the late 1930s, virtually all publishers, including National Geographic, adopted Kodachrome as its standard color-photography film because it was easier to use Autochrome required photographers to carry around heavy wooden suitcases filled with fragile glass plates; Kodachrome film but the autochrome plates in our archives provide a unique look into the past "We're all familiar with old black-and-white images so much so that we often think of images from the early 1900s as being exclusively in black and white," says Adrian Coakley photographic research editor at National Geographic you're seeing those images in a way you wouldn't imagine them It's like a look at history in color." 8 From the Archive is a weekly selection culled from National Geographic's archive and curated by Archivist Bill Bonner and Senior Photo Editor Jessie Wender Becky Little contributed reporting Follow Michael Greshko on Twitter. Nat Geo Image Collection","text":"Three women living in an alpine village near Salzburg pose for photographer Hans Hildenbrand in a 1929 autochrome This photo ran in National Geographic’s September 1988 centennial issue Three women living in an alpine village near Salzburg poses wearing traditional garb in this 1928 autochrome by Luigi Pellerano While this image never ran in National Geographic the magazine published hundreds of Pellerano’s images through the 1930s poses in her costume in this July 1929 autochrome by National Geographic staff photographer Wilhelm Tobien In this November 1931 autochrome by Wilhelm Tobien, two women from the Netherlands’ Zeeland province pose with their daughters. Their fan-shaped bonnets are hallmarks of the region’s folk costume sits on a bench wearing a red hat and bathing suit in a January 1936 autochrome by Wilhelm Tobien A girl in Lagartera, Spain, poses in traditional costume for an informal portrait in this 1914 autochrome by Jules Gervais-Courtellemont. Lagartera is renowned for its centuries-old tradition of elaborate embroidery works with her spinning wheel in an autocrome taken by Hans Hildenbrand in early 1932 A girl in Lagartera, Spain, poses in traditional costume for an informal portrait in this 1914 autochrome by Jules Gervais-Courtellemont. Lagartera is renowned for its centuries-old tradition of elaborate embroidery. A woman in Lucerne, Switzerland, works with her spinning wheel in an autocrome taken by Hans Hildenbrand in early 1932. You don't have permission to access the page you requested. What is this page?The website you are visiting is protected.For security reasons this page cannot be displayed. WASHINGTON — Violette Verdy, one of the leading ballerinas of the 20th century and the first female director of the Paris Opera Ballet, died Monday in Bloomington, Ind. She was 82. Ms. Verdy had also served as artistic director of the Boston Ballet during a momentous and, at times, tumultuous period in the early 1980s. Indiana University, where she taught for 20 years, confirmed her death but did not disclose the cause. Prized for her vivacious charm, instinctive musicality, and sparkling, light-footed technique, Ms. Verdy danced in the works of more than 50 choreographers. But she is most closely linked with George Balanchine, with whom she worked from 1958 to 1976, in the heyday of his New York City Ballet. He showcased her joie de vivre in the roles he created for her in a dozen ballets, including the mysterious and playful ‘‘Emeralds’’ section of his full-length production ‘‘Jewels,’’ ‘‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’’ ‘‘Tchaikovsky Pas de Deux,’’ ‘‘Liebeslieder Walzer,’’ and ‘‘Sonatine.’’ Ms. Verdy inspired other choreographers, including Jerome Robbins, who devised a central character for her in his masterwork ‘‘Dances at a Gathering.’’ She began her career in 1945 with Roland Petit’s Ballets des Champs-Elysees, later known as the Ballets de Paris. She joined London Festival Ballet in 1954 and then American Ballet Theatre before landing at New York City Ballet. Petite and curvy, she was an improbable hire. Balanchine favored tall, leggy, athletic-looking women. ‘‘He had a company of greyhounds and borzois,’’ Ms. Verdy said in a documentary. ‘‘And, you know, I was a little French poodle.’’ Yet her boundless appetite for dancing and her pure, direct approach propelled her to become a quintessential Balanchine ballerina. Writing in the New York Herald Tribune in 1958, dance critic Walter Terry noted that she ‘‘moved into the Balanchine style with no trouble at all and danced her measures with beauty of line and with a pertness of manner which is quite her own.’’ She liked to say that it was her feet that hooked the great Balanchine. ‘‘He told me, ‘You have very eloquent feet,’ ” she said in a film clip, with a hearty laugh. ‘‘ ‘You speak with your feet, and that’s very French.’ ’’ Inside the company, her taste for fun was as famed as her buoyant steps. ‘‘She had the most immaculate phrasing,’’ said Edward Villella, one of Balanchine’s greatest male stars and Ms. Verdy’s frequent partner, speaking to the Washington Post the day she died. ‘‘Her musicality was spectacular — and then there was that fabulous sense of humor.’’ He recalled waiting for her to make her entrance as he knelt onstage at the beginning of the ultra-virtuosic pas de deux from ‘‘Le Corsaire,’’ in a guest appearance the pair made in Chicago. When the bejeweled Ms. Verdy stepped into the spotlight, she had a surprise for him: a carnation clamped between her teeth and a blazing look in her eyes. As Villella tried to keep himself from laughing aloud at the sight of the tutu-clad ballerina with a gypsy’s panache, she seized the flower from her teeth ‘‘and flung it into the wings,’’ he said, chuckling. ‘‘That’s what made it that much funnier. I mean, this was ‘Corsaire,’ not ‘Carmen.’ ’’ ‘‘There was no difference between her dancing and the music,’’ Villella added. ‘‘It was all a pure continuity of gesture, musicality, choreography and this sense of effortlessness. Nothing was forced. The phrasing was just emanating from her body.’’ Jean-Pierre Bonnefoux, a principal dancer of Balanchine’s company who was often paired with Ms. Verdy, his compatriot, compared her musical gifts to those of a great pianist ‘‘phrasing a concerto, giving her own interpretation,’’ he said in an interview Tuesday. ‘‘That care that she had. Phrasing is the one of the most important things in ballet, and Violette was a natural.’’ She was born Nelly Guillerm in Pont-l’Abbe, a medieval town in Brittany famed for its lace, on Dec. 1, 1933. She was an only child; her father died four months after her birth. She was high-strung and hyperactive, and a doctor recommended that her mother find a way to tire her out. She put her in ballet classes. At 15, she changed her name to Violette Verdy, when she was chosen for the leading role in Ludwig Berger’s 1950 film ‘‘Ballerina,’’ about a country girl who aspires to ballet stardom. Amid the German occupation of France, her mother took her to Paris, where the budding dancer studied with French and Russian teachers. She came with Petit’s company to the United States in 1954. Various stints in Europe followed before ABT’s leading ballerina Nora Kaye helped bring Ms. Verdy on board as a principal dancer. When ABT temporarily disbanded in 1958, Balanchine hired Ms. Verdy, who quickly claimed some of the most demanding roles in his repertory with her mix of speed and feathery grace. Her years at New York City Ballet were marked by injuries, which led her to retire in 1976 and take the helm at the Paris Opera Ballet. She stayed three stormy years, describing them later as a ‘‘crash landing course’’ in the job of artistic director. Her ties to Boston Ballet reached back into the 1960s — the early years of the troupe, when Balanchine served as an artistic adviser and she was a frequent featured guest artist. She joined the Boston Ballet on tour in 1980 and was named co-artistic director the following year, a seminal moment in the company’s history, with its founder, E. Virginia Williams, relinquishing some control over its direction and emphases. Lincoln Kirstein, then the general director of the New York City Ballet, called Ms. Verdy “a shrewd Frenchwoman behind that effervescentexterior. She’s got all that Gallic charm plus a hardheaded sense of how to get things done — who to go to, how to get money out of people. If anyone can pull the Boston company together, it’s Violette.” She was regarded as a demanding yet sensitive teacher. “She adjusts a finger here, an angle of the head there, and dives to the floor to correct a sickling ankle,’’ wrote Christine Temin in The Boston Globe Magazine in 1981. “She is totally lost in what she’s doing, demonstrating with her expressive, supple hands what she wants the dancers’ feet to do. After one particularly demanding exercise, there is a quiet, collective sigh of satisfaction in the room, as if everyone were coming out of a trance.’’ Ms. Verdy assumed full artistic control in 1983. She brought to the role a stronger commitment to traditional story-telling ballet, generally eschewing Williams’s championing of modern works. “Violette was an amazing light in the world of dance,’’ said Mikko Nissinen, the company’s current artistic director, in a statement Wednesday. “Violette leaves a strong impact on the students, dancers, and colleagues who were blessed to work with her and the audiences who enjoyed her performances.’’ Ms. Verdy’s tenure, however, was fractious, with the company beset by financial struggles and the board riven by divisions. Her resignation in 1984 was acrimonious, with Ms. Verdy accusing several board members of pettiness and failing to support the company. She was married briefly to British writer Colin Clark. They divorced in 1963. She leaves no immediate survivors. In addition to dancing and teaching, Ms. Verdy engaged in a deep spiritual practice, studying the Vedanta form of Hinduism with a guru she met in the 1960s. For many years she made annual trips to his retreat in India. Reflecting on her craft, she once told an interviewer: ‘‘If you do something very, very well ... you are equipped. You have developed that little heart. That filet mignon, if you will. If you have that, you have your little compact to go anywhere.’’ Michael Bailey of Globe staff contributed to this report. Home Delivery Gift Subscriptions Log In Manage My Account Customer Service Delivery Issues Feedback News Tips Help & FAQs Staff List Advertise Newsletters View the ePaper Order Back Issues News in Education Search the Archives Privacy Policy Terms of Service Terms of Purchase Work at Boston Globe Media Internship Program Co-op Program Do Not Sell My Personal Information