The music was by Stravinsky, the choregraphy by Balanchine, the costumes by Norman Bel Geddes. But New Yorkers weren't swooning over a new ballet; they were in Madison Square Garden watching 50 elephants in pink panties cavort at The Circus. They were gaping at bright blue and red tanbark, girl rope climbers who looked like Ziegfeld chorines, wedding-cake beautifications, Peter Arno drawings in the programs, refreshments passed on china platters. If they were old or sentimental enough, they were wondering what had become of the pink lemonade, the gold-toothed lady bareback rider, the...
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