Photo by Edie; sculpture on display at The Frick Pittsburgh, July 2018
I know Degas’s paintings for his ballerinas but I never knew he also made this sculpture – bronze with cloth for the tutu and hair ribbon. Cloth for the tutu and hair ribbon. It seems it would’ve been very unusual in his time period (1880s) to step outside the usual all-bronze cast.
When I googled the sculpture, it turns out that Degas did use an unusual medium, but not what I thought. His original sculpture was made using a real bodice, tutu, ballet slippers, and real hair – and cast in beeswax. The full sculpture was covered in beeswax except for the tutu and hair ribbon.
Apparently the bronze version (a number of them) was made afterwards by his heirs.
The sculpture by Degas received mixed reviews at the time, for numerous reasons.
I’m fixed on the cloth. I imagine an artist who sidestepped the classics because he had to go his own way, bringing the texture to life.
This makes me think of Nikki Giovanni who sidesteps the classics of poetry books when her writing moves among poetry, prose, mail correspondence, a movie:
From Whence Cometh My Help*
It should be a movie. Starring S. Epatha Merkerson as Ethel Smith. She would be driving down I-81 right before the Hollins exit. There would be some smooth jazz, a Coltrane piece from Giants Steps or maybe something by…
and then more poetry (Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea: Poems and Not Quite Poems). Giovanni and Degas both had to do their own thing, which makes great art.
Playwright Diana Burbano has recently written a blog piece about why fewer women than men seem to send plays out for production—even when invited, “qualified women will say no.” Burbano notices a number of wonderful plays by women that don’t follow “a strict narrative structure” (or classic structure). “Why isn’t it OK for these plays to change the way a story is laid out?” Burbano says; “I wonder if trying to shoehorn themselves into a rigid structure isn’t half the reason so many women feel uncomfortable submitting? Perhaps they feel they will never get it ‘right.’”
I agree with Burbano that we’ve got to keep sending out our plays, written our way. I’m ever optimistic that great art prevails. “The narrative is starting to change,” Burbano says: “People like me LIKE your meandering storytelling, and we are starting to be the people who will be the first to learn of your work.”
*From whence cometh my help: the African American community at Hollins College
