Thank you, Christie Wyman, for hosting Poetry Friday this week. Check out this week’s poetry offerings at her blog, Wondering and Wandering.
I miss New York City. When we used to visit our son, which we can’t do now, we would stroll though Central Park on the way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
We like to revisit pieces of art, such as Isis from the 2nd century A.D, Egypt during the Roman period. Today we wear much less head gear and more clothing. I usually encounter her as I try to make some sense of the time periods in the Egyptian wing.
And I never miss one of my favorite sculptures. It’s by Edgar Degas, Little Dancer Aged Fourteen who stands as unapologetic as Isis. Little Dancer has had a fascinating evolution as a work of art.
In 1881, (image, below, on the left) she was Degas’s first and only sculpture ever presented to the public at the Paris impressionist exhibition. It caused a stir. This likeness of a poor lower class ballerina, was made of tinted beeswax, wore a wig of human hair, a cotton bodice, linen slipper and a cotton-silk tutu. It is beloved today, but because of strange materials used to make the piece and the modern subject, it was considered ugly and repulsive by critics. She was threat to the art world’s status quo.
In 1917, with Degas’s death, the wax was replaced with bronze and over the years the curators of the Met have replaced the tutu three times either because it had deteriorated or they were unhappy with its look.
I discovered a fascinating video found here about the design of the last tutu by curator Glenn Petersen. Through his historical research he created a skirt like those worn by ballerinas in Degas’s time, in length and composition.
I love her proud pose and she seems as courageous as she was vulnerable to the whims of others.
I wrote this for her:
LITTLE PARIS DANCER Inspired by Degas’s LITTLE DANCER AGED FOURTEEN Paris, sixth Impressionist Exhibit 1881 With face towards the sky shoulders back, hands clasped Little Paris Dancers did what was asked. In short steps you scurried, a petite “opera rat” “Your likeness is ugly!” They used to say that. Too poor to rebel, lose your job if you do, and can't trust the men who act kindly towards you. But the last word is yours, there you are, at the Met, in a stunning tutu, beloved, no threat. © Janice Scully 2020 (draft)
I’ll close with a poem about a dancer by Sir John Suckling (1609-1641). It reminded me of Paris’s little “opera rat.”
At a Wedding Sir John Suckling Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice, stole in and out, As if they feared the light. And oh! She dances such a way No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
Enjoy Poetry Friday as we all continue at home making virtual trips and imagining a new and better future as we dance forward after Covid 19.