Art Eyewitness Review: Ballet Russes at the Morgan Library & Museum

  Crafting the Ballets Russes: Music, Dance, Design 

The Robert Owen Lehman Collection

The Morgan Library and Museum

June 28 - September 22, 2024

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

Looking back over the ballet scene during the first half of the twentieth century, Igor Stravinsky wrote an essay in the November 1953 issue of Atlantic Magazine. Stravinsky  recalled the "impressive figure of a man" who "by sheer inspiring energy and breath of cultural initiative, raised the prestige of the ballet to undreamed of heights."

With these words, Stravinsky summoned to life the memory of Sergei Diaghilev, master-mind and dynamic leader of the incomparable Ballet Russes.

A recently-opened exhibition at the Morgan Library and Museum, Crafting the Ballet Russes, brilliantly illustrates the story of the legendary ballet company with a treasure store of documents, artifacts and pictures. Yet, it is important to note that the Morgan exhibit surveys the same cultural "landscape" as Stravinsky's essay from a different vantage point. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Gallery view of Crafting the Ballet Russes at the Morgan Library

Instead of focusing on Diaghilev's life and leadership, the Morgan exhibition directs our attention to the actual manuscripts of the musical scores he commissioned for the Ballet Russes. These remarkable scores, composed by Stravinsky, Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel come from the Robert Owen Lehman collection which has been on deposit at the Morgan for over half a century. Occasionally one of these hand-written and annotated scores is displayed as a "treasure from the vault" at the Morgan. But this exhibition is one of the rare occasions when a number of these scores  have been placed on display, en masse.

Claude Debussy 

 Prelude a l’apres-midi d’ un faune, 1894. Autograph manuscript.

 Robert Lehman Collection, Morgan Library

Vaslav Nijinsky 

Choreographic notes, Afternoon of a Faun, ca. 1913-1915

Music and dance, thus, take precedence over personal celebrity in Crafting the Ballet Russes. This is a decision which Diaghilev would certainly have approved. Moreover, the Morgan exhibition emphasizes the contributions of the group of talented dancers, musicians and artists who made the Ballet Russes such a success rather than  emphasizing the role of their leader. 

This "from the many, one" approach to telling the Ballet Russes story complicates the curator's tasks in managing the narrative sequence. There is a lot to cover in Crafting Ballet Russes and the danger of information overload for the non-specialist visitor is very real. Additionally, there are the inherent difficulties of addressing music and dance in an art exhibition.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Robinson McClellan, curator of Crafting the Ballet Russes

The curator of Crafting the Ballet Russes, Robinson McClellan, is the Morgan's Associate curator of Music Manuscripts and Printed Music. His knowledge and passion for his subject were demonstrated in an outstanding lecture he presented on the opening day of the exhibition. Very wisely, McClellan opted for a chronological approach for presenting the Ballet Russes saga, cleverly integrating the precious Lehman manuscripts with the mass of other historic material.

In one especially brilliant move, iconic photos of Nilinsky performing Afternoon of the Faun are matched to the musical notation of the score for several moments in the ballet.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Gallery view of Crafting the Ballet Russes, showing Adolf de Meyer's photos of Vaslav Nijinsky in Afternoon of a Faun. 1912

Below the photos, Debussy's original version of the score is contrasted with Nijinsky's revisions for his dance choreography. Illustrated here is Measure 91, where the faun, having taken-hold of the nymph's veil, arches his back and begins to laugh.

Anne Lloyd (photos, 2024) 

Debussy's original notation of Measure 91 of Afternoon of a Faun (top) and Nijinsky's chorographic revisions (below)

As the story of the Ballet Russes unfolds in the Morgan exhibit, the achievements of the protagonists in this incredible moment of cultural history receive their just due. Not surprisingly, Igor Stravinsky exerts a powerful presence in the exhibition.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Pablo Picasso’s Portrait of Igor Stravinsky, 1920

Stravinsky, a composer of prodigious musical gifts, studied orchestration under the great Rimsky-Korsakov. Diaghilev spotted Stravinsky early, commissioning him to compose the score of The Firebird (1910) while others doubted if the inexperienced, though talented, young man was a good "fit" for the ballet.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

 Igor Stravinsky’s “Adagio / Supplication of the Firebird” from Firebird 

Autograph manuscript. Lehman Collection, Morgan Library

Stravinsky responded to Diaghilev's vote of confidence with a devotion that was still evident in his Atlantic essay four decades later. It is fascinating to study the score of Rite of Spring (in this case a remarkable facsimile) with a note scrawled in colored pencil, recalling how Stravinsky had suffered from a raging toothache as he labored to finish composing it.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Igor Stravinsky‘s Rite of Spring, Sketches, 1911–1913 (Facsimile)

There is a rich selection of photos, works of art and memorabilia related to other Ballet Russes luminaries, Tamara Karsivina, Vaslav Nijinsky and his sister Bronislava Nijinska, Ida Rubinstein, Leon Bakst and Michel Fokine.

Tamara Karsavina and Michel Fokine in Firebird, 1910 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

  Vaslav Nijinsky and Bronislava Nijinska in Afternoon of a Faun, 1912

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 From left, a postcard of Vaslav Nijinsky, ca. 1908, & an autographed note from Nijinsky, reading “Let us dance, let us pray, let us make love.”

The galleries of Crafting the Ballet Russes are like a time-capsule.  Almost without exception, the works of art and artifacts on view date from the 1909-1929 heyday of the dance company. Many were used to prepare and publicize the ballet "seasons"  rather than serve as objects d' art. The exception is the bronze cast of a sculpted sketch of Nijinsky  which Rodin made after attending the 1912 premier of Afternoon of the Faun. This loan from the Met provides a marvelous center point for the Morgan exhibition.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024 

Auguste Rodin’s Vaslav Nijinsky in The Afternoon of a Faun 

For lovers of art, music and dance, Crafting the Ballet Russes is an embarrassment of riches. Another important feature of the exhibition is the special attention given to the role of women in the dance company. The role of Bronislava Nijinska, who became the lead choreographer for the company in 1921, and the art work of Natalie Goncharova, are specially noteworthy.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Bronislava Nijinska in 1921

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Self-portrait of Natalia Goncharova, ca.1907

With all of the well-deserved attention to the Ballet Russes roster of genius, Diaghilev, himself, remains largely an off-stage presence in the Morgan exhibition. Yet, his role was central to the success of the Ballet Russes throughout the twenty-year span of its existence. 

A brief look at the history of that era underscores Diaghilev's importance..

After Russia's shocking defeat in the 1904-1905 war with Japan and the ensuing outbreak of riots and domestic insurgency, Diaghilev conceived a cultural "charm offensive" to restore the prestige of the Tsarist empire. Diaghilev was a fervent proponent of "gesamtkunstwerk." Music, dance, elaborate stage effects, every genre of the visual arts, including motifs from ancient times - all were combined to create a "total work of art."

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Souvenir program for the Ballet Russes, 1911, Theatre du Chatelet

Richard Wagner has raised Germanic culture to sensational levels of international acclaim by such means. Diaghilev believed that he could do the same for Russia, organizing and leading music and dance companies and art exhibitions on tours of cities in Western Europe, Britain and the U.S. 

Initially, Diaghilev presented several programs of Western-style ballet, superbly danced by members of Russia's Imperial Ballet. European audiences were politely bored, but in 1908 Diaghilev's spectacular production of the opera, Boris Godunov, staring Fyodor Chaliapan, took Paris by storm.

Diaghilev had hit the "gesamtkunstwerk" target right on the mark. Western audiences craved the "exotic." The colorful past of Russia, clothed (or scantily clad) in the garb of the sensuous east, provided a ready supply of source material for future triumphs.  

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Detail of Natalia Goncharova's Set Design for Les Noces, 1915

Then came a sudden reversal of fortune. Instead of providing additional funding for creating new musical productions evoking Russian culture, the Tsarist government ceased all financial support for Diaghilev's endeavors in March 1909. It was an incalculable blunder that would have brought the effort to raise Russia's artistic profile to a jarring halt - except for Diaghilev's strength of will.

Stravinsky described Diaghilev as a barin, a Russian term difficult to translate. Enlightened despot comes closest to the original meaning.

The barin is by "nature generous, strong and capricious, with intense will,  a strong sense of contrasts and deep ancestral roots."

Diaghilev, according to Stravinsky, also possessed a "will of iron, tenacity, an almost superhuman resistance and a passion to fight to overcome the almost insurmountable obstacles."

With this quiver of personal attributes at his disposal, Diaghilev launched the Ballet Russes crusade  in 1909. He had little else to rely on, as his personal funds were quickly exhausted. The Ballet Russes operated on a financial tightrope for the entire twenty years of its existence, with Diaghilev's charisma and determination overcoming one "insurmountable obstacle" after another.

Charisma and determination are difficult to illustrate in an art exhibition. But there is an additional reason for the paucity of pictures and memorabilia relating to Diaghilev in Crafting the Ballet Russes.

In 1914, a young Russian artist, Mikhail Larionov (1882-1964) joined the Ballet Russes team. For the next fifteen years, the talented and temperamental Larionov worked for Diaghilev. Disputes and arguments were many, but Larionov greatly admired Diaghilev. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Mikhail Larionov’s sketch of Sergei Diaghilev, 

Igor Stravinsky, and Sergey Prokofiev, ca.1918

In 1915-1916, Larionov executed a series of evocative sketches of Diaghilev which provide an intimate portrayal of the "barin" and his henchmen at work. One of Larionov's drawings, now in the collection of the Harvard, is on view in the Morgan exhibit. 

The remainder of Larionov's sketches, along with the manuscript of a biography of Diaghilev which Larionov wrote and illustrated, were bequeathed to the Tretyakov Museum in Moscow. (The biography, a fascinating blend of fact and fable, was not published until after Larionov's death.) Because of the strained relations between the U.S. and Russia in recent times, this valuable archive is unavailable for loans to museums in America.

We should not bemoan this loss, unduly. Instead, we should savor what the Morgan is sharing with us in the crowded galleries of the exhibition.

Along with the Lehman Collection manuscript scores, the Morgan has displayed the visual remains of one of the great moments of creativity in the history of art. While there are no actual ballet costumes on view, as were featured in the National Gallery of Art's 2013 Ballet Russes exhibition, the array of photos, costume and set designs and posters is truly spectacular.

Crafting the Ballet Russes charts the course of Diaghilev's bold venture to restore Tsarist Russia's cultural reputation in the eyes of the world. From Schéhérazade, danced to music by Rimsky-Korsakov, to Firebird and Petruschka, the early masterpieces of Igor Stravinsky, to the controversial Rite of Spring, the Ballet Russes astonished (and sometimes outraged) the world.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Detail of Leon Bakst's set design for Schéhérazade, 1910

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)

 Costume design for Firebird (L’Oiseau de Feu) by Leon Bakst, 1910

Vaslav Nijinsky as Petrouchka, 1911

Like the ill-fate puppet, Petruschka, Diaghilev was doomed to fail in his attempt to save Russia from its own folly. But in the course of his effort, Diaghilev the barin and his Ballet Russes artists opened a path to new realms of spirit and the imagination.

The Morgan Library & Museum exhibition is a fitting valedictory for Diaghilev's Ballet Russes as a historical phenomenon. But as one watches videos of the great ballets in the hallway near the entrance of Crafting the Ballets Russes, one soon enters into the "now" moment of the Ballet Russes, the still living spirit of Diaghilev, Stravinsky, Goncharova, Nijinski and the rest.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) 

Gallery view of Crafting the Ballet Russes showing a video presentation

 of a modern-day performance of Afternoon of a Faun

"A new, marvelous, and totally unknown world was revealed," wrote a Parisian theater critic, after an early Ballet Russes performance.

At the Morgan Library's Crafting the Ballet Russes, this "new, marvelous, and totally unknown world" is still being revealed. 

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                   Original photography, copyright of Anne Lloyd

Introductory photo:                                                                                   

 Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Detail of Natalii︠a︡ Goncharova ‘s curtain design for Les Noces (The Wedding), 1915. Opaque watercolor over graphite on board: 27 x 35 x 1 1/2 in. framed. Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of Crafting the Ballet Russes exhibition at the Morgan Library and Museum.

Claude Debussy (1862-1918) Prelude a l’apres-midi d’ un faune (Prelude to the Afternoon of the Faun), 1894. Autograph manuscript. Robert Owen Lehman Collection on deposit at the Morgan Library and Museum.

Vaslav Nijinsky (1890-1950) Choreographic notes, Afternoon of a Faun [Nijinsky’s opening pose] [ca. 1913-1915.Graphite on paper 5 9/16 x 8 11/16 in. Library of Congress, Bronislava Nijinska Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Robinson McClellan lecturing on the Ballet Russes at the Morgan Library & Museum

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of Crafting the Ballet Russes, showing photos of Vaslav Nijinsky in Afternoon of a Faun. Photo by Adolf de Meyer, 1912.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Pablo Picasso’s Portrait of Igor Stravinsky, 31 December 1920. Pencil on paper 23 x 19 x 1 7/8 in. Famed, Private Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024)  Igor Stravinsky’s “Adagio / Supplication of the Firebird” from Firebird (L’Oiseau de Feu). Autograph manuscript, piano, extensive revisions, pp. 12–13, [1910], inscribed 1918 [1910] (inscribed 1918) 12 × 9 1/8 in. The Morgan Library & Museum Robert Owen Lehman Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Igor Stravinsky ‘s The Rite of Spring (Le Sacre du Printemps) Sketches, 1911–1913; Facsimile Reproductions from the Autographs, pp. 96–97 [London]: Boosey & Hawkes, 1969.

Tamara Karsavina and Michel Fokine in Firebird, 1910. 14 7/8 x 12 1/2 x 1 1/2 in. framed Library of Congress, Bronislava Nijinska Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Detail of photo of Vaslav Nijinsky and Bronislava Nijinska in Afternoon of a Faun, 1912. Photo by Adolf de Meyer.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Exhibition display of postcard showing Vaslav Nijinsky as a young dancer, ca. 1908 Russia, 1908? Autographed note from Vaslav Nijinsky, reading “Let us dance, let us pray, let us make love”. Both from The Morgan Library & Museum, James Fuld Collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024 Auguste Rodin’s Vaslav Nijinsky in The Afternoon of a Faun (“L’Après-midi d’un Faune”), modeled 1912, cast 1959. Bronze, marble: base 9 3/4 in. height (with base) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, gift in honor of B. Gerald Cantor.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Bronislava Nijinska in 1921 after leaving Kyiv 1921. 16 1/2 x 13 5/8 x 1 1/2 in. framed Library of Congress, Bronislava Nijinska Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Self-portrait of Natalii︠a︡ Goncharova , ca. 1907. Oil on canvas, mounted on board:24 3/4 x 20 3/4 x 1 5/8 in. framed Mead Art Museum, Amherst College, gift of Thomas P. Whitney

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Souvenir program for the 1911 Ballet Russes season at the Theatre du Chatelet, Paris. Left page shows insert for the Petrouchka premiere; right page shows Leon Bakst design for the ballet Narcisse. Comoedia illustre, 1911., Paris. Morgan Library & Museum, James Fuld Collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Detail of Natalii︠a︡ Goncharova‘s curtain design for Les Noces (The Wedding), 1915. Opaque watercolor over graphite on board: 27 x 35 x 1 1/2 in. framed . Philadelphia Museum of Art,.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Mikhail Larionov’s sketch of Sergei Diaghilev, Igor Stravinsky, and Sergey Prokofiev, ca. 1918. Graphite on paper: 25 1/8 x 1918 x 2 in. framed. Harvard Theater collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Detail of the set design by Leon Bakst for the bedroom scene in Schéhérazade, 1910. Gouache on paper: 24.8 x 29.1 in. (63 x 74 cm.) Boris Stavroski collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) costume design for Firebird (L’Oiseau de Feu) by Leon Bakst, 1910. Pencil, water color, and gouache, heightened with gold on paper: 25 x 19 ½ inches famed. Private collection.

Dover Street Studios. Vaslav Nijinsky as Petrouchka, 1911. Photograph: 18 x 14 3/8 x 1 1/2 in. framed. Library of Congress, Ida Rubinstein Collection 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2024) Gallery view of Crafting the Ballet Russes exhibition at the Morgan Library and Museum, showing a video presentation of a modern-day revival performance of Afternoon of a Faun (L’apres-midi d’ un Faune).

 

 

 

Degas at the Opéra at the National Gallery of Art

Degas at the Opéra

National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

July 20 - October 12, 2020

Reviewed by Ed Voves 

Original Photos by Anne Lloyd  

The Paris Opéra exerted a presence in the art of Edgar Degas much as the “Wooden O” of the Globe Theater did for William Shakespeare. The Paris Opéra was not merely a place of fashionable leisure, but served as a focus for Degas’ formidable powers of observation, insight and expression.

Shakespeare’s Globe, thanks to the immortal Bard, could hold within its oak timber frame the “vasty fields of France" at the Battle of Agincourt. So too, Degas was able to capture the spirit of Paris at the Opéra, on stage and off, in moments of ethereal beauty, tense activity and sweaty, muscle-aching exhaustion.

Edgar Degas, The Orchestra of the Opera, c. 1870

Degas at the Opera is a recently opened exhibition at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. Perhaps "re-opened" more accurately defines the timeline of this magnificent exhibit, which premiered a few days before the Covid-19 pandemic struck in early March 2020. The National Gallery has now reopened, with art lovers able to schedule timed-visits to the West Wing, site of this soul-restoring investigation of Degas and his love of music.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) 

Gallery view of Degas at the Opera showing Four Dancers, c. 1899

The National Galley has a well-earned reputation for staging exhibitions of  nineteenth century French art. Degas at the Opéra is very much in the grand tradition of The New Painting: Impressionism, 1874-1886 (1986), In the Forest of Fontainebleau (2008) and Frédéric Bazille and the Birth of Impressionism (2017). It is an exhibition not to be missed and the National Gallery deserves a lot of praise for giving it an added lease on life under trying circumstances.

Edgar Degas came from a cultured family, with music appreciation a shared passion between Degas and his father. Auguste De Gas hosted musical salons at the family residence, inviting noted professional musicians and gifted amateurs to perform. Degas later painted many of these leading figures of the French music scene, such as the celebrated bassoon player, Désiré Dihau, who appears in the front row center of Degas’s The Orchestra at the Opéra.  

Another painting on view in the exhibition directly references the musical entertainments hosted by Degas' father, the double portrait of the young Spanish singer, Lorenzo Pagans, and the aging Auguste De Gas. This poignant work evokes a rising, new era and the passing away of its predecessor. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020)

 Detail of Lorenzo Pagans & Auguste De Gas by Edgar Degas, 1871-72

In some ways, the youthful Pagans is a surrogate for Degas in the picture. Singer and painter were born a year apart. Talented and handsome, the charismatic Pagans takes center stage in the painting, while the elderly Auguste De Gas barely manages to remain alert and composed. It was a diplomatic way of acknowledging his father's continuing dedication and support for the arts despite the baneful effects of old age and declining health.

The list of musicians, dancers and composers who were invited to the musical evenings of Auguste de Gas, later to appear in Degas's paintings, points out a hugely significant point. Degas was painting his life story in terms of music, not merely documenting the performing arts of mid-nineteenth century France.

Along with Désiré Dihau, Lorenzo Pagans, Ludovic Halévy and other leading figures of the French music establishment, the Paris Opéra itself figured prominently in Degas' consciousness. More than just a building, the Opéra had a character all its own. This "living" presence called forth an emotional response and, Degas being Degas, the relationship was a complicated affair.

When Degas was a young man, Opéra performances were presented in an aging building known as the Salle le Peletier. Ballet, being an integral part of French opera, Le Peletier was the site for the great dancers of the age. There, they expressed in movement the music of such masters as Giacomo Meyerbeer, whose Robert le Diable (1831) was one of Degas' favorite operas. 

Le Peletier, careworn though it was, had excellent acoustics and Degas loved it. But in 1873, Le Peletier burned down. It was replaced by the ornate Palais Garnier. Degas disliked the new building, partly because it had been planned and approved by Napoleon III, whom the artist despised.

Edgar Degas, The Dance Class, begun 1873, completed 1875–1876

One of the outstanding dancers to perform at Le Peletier was Jules Perrot (1810-1892). Degas painted Perrot in one of his greatest works and also created the first of his monotype prints depicting Perrot. However, Perrot's career and contributions to French ballet are problematical in their relationship to Degas. 

Perrot was a figure of renown, but of the era of Degas' father. Perrot was a great dancer and choreographer from the 1830's to the 1850's and he created the celebrated ballet, Giselle in 1841. In 1850, he became the director of the Imperial Russian Ballet, a position he held until 1858.

Degas portrays Perrot in the role of ballet master in The Ballet Class. Two versions of the painting were created during the mid-1870's, one in the collection of the Musée d’Orsay, the other in the Metropolitan Museum in New York. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020)

 Detail of Degas' Portrait of the Dancer Jules Perrot

By the time Degas began the preparatory sketch in 1873, Perrot was retired. While he is known to have given some private lessons after his return from Russia, Perrot held no official positions in the French theatrical establishment. 

Degas shows Perrot instructing the dancers in the class room of Le Peletier which, as we noted, burned down in 1873. This was very year that Degas started to work on composing this painting. 

Thus, The Dance Class is an imaginary scene, a retired dance master whose Romantic style was passé, rehearsing ballerinas in a theater which no longer existed.

The Paris Opéra, Salle le Peletier, ca. 1821.

The Paris Opéra, Palais Garnier, c. 1889–1890

Degas' depiction of Perrot and his dancing class may seem more in the vein of fantasy or nostalgia than as documentary representation. This raises some interesting questions about Degas' attitude toward objective reality.

To his friend, Ludovic Halévy, Degas wrote that "One sees as one wants to see; this is false; and this falsity constitutes art."

Does this remark mean that Degas, the arch-traditionalist, succumbed to moral relativism? Or was he articulating an understanding of the selective vision that is a common trait of all human beings - artists most of all?

The solution to the riddle that "falsity constitutes art" can likely be found in the way that Degas used a limited range of motifs. Focusing upon these motifs, Degas explored the small world of the Paris Opéra in its every nuance. Sketching and drawing, painting and making prints, Degas "is constantly moving forward" as Camille Pissarro said.

As a result of his single-minded resolve, Degas saw beyond the "falsity" in art.  He escaped from painting himself into the corner of an illusory or imagined realm - and gained higher levels of insight and meaning. 

Degas was a patriotic Frenchman. His depictions of the opera and ballet are testaments to the excellence of the French traditions of these art forms. Moreover, he created these works at the moment when France was losing - or had lost - its preeminent position in opera and ballet. Wagner and Verdi contested for leadership as the greatest opera composers in Europe. In terms of dance, the Russian ballet, led by Marius Petipa who had worked under Perrot, now took the lead. 

Edgar Degas, The Ballet from "Robert le Diable", 1871

Degas did not react to the loss of France's cultural hegemony by painting moments of vanished glory. He actually painted only one opera being performed, Meyerbeer's Robert le Diable. Amazingly, the focus of this painting is not on the ballerinas on stage but on a front-row patron, busily scanning the audience with a pair of opera glasses which he hardly needs to watch the show!

In almost all of his other opera or ballet-themed works, Degas portrays musicians and dancers engaged in disciplined work. He shows them devoting themselves to their art and to reviving France's position as the leading artistic force in Europe.

Edgar Degas, The Dance Class, 1872

Degas utilized bold, experimental art forms in order to show the behind-the-scenes reality of the Paris Opéra. Particularly worthy of note are his "elongated" paintings. With one exception, these are narrow oil paintings with the subject depicted along a horizontal axis. The subjects were Degas' favorites: race horses and ballet dancers. The exception, on a vertical axis, was Miss Lala at the Cirque Fernando, a circus picture painted in 1879.

Edgar Degas, The Dance Lesson, 1879

These "elongated" works have a cinematic quality, with a sense of movement pushing the dynamics of the picture beyond the picture plain. As with other works of Degas, particularly the magnificent Four Dancers shown above, the various dancers - or horses and jockeys - take on the identity of one, singular figure as it shifts and moves about the dance studio or the starting line.

The art scholar, Marine Kisiel, notes in the exhibition catalog:

... the figures seem to burst into the picture from outside the frame, only to vanish in the distance beyond it. These figures have no individual identity. True enough, the bows on the tutus and the colors of the blouses vary, as do the poses, but a good look at them - watching them enter, move across, then vanish from these works - soon produces the impression that the eye is ultimately following just one figure: the ballerina in an infinite variety of positions or the horse and jockey united in one body, their essence conveyed by the nearly uninterrupted momentum of their graceful movements.

Edgar Degas, The Dance Class, c.1880

Degas also pioneered the use of monotype prints for his ballet scenes. These seldom-studied works by Degas were featured in an outstanding 2016 exhibit, A Strange New Beauty, at the Museum of Modern Art.

Edgar Degas, (with Vicomte Lepic), The Ballet Master, ca. 1876

Monotypes, as the name implies, are one-of-a-kind artworks. With these prints, Degas was able to bring forth a haunting quality to the image which the vivid colors of the oil-on-canvas original somewhat obscure. 

Degas also created a technique of making succeeding impressions of the prints, with the ink much weakened and then touching-up the print with pastel and gouache to create a color version. Sometimes, he added or modified figures to the scene. These are impressive works, yet they suffer to a certain degree, like colorized photos. The first, true monotype version has an unsettling quality which grabs a hold of our attention and does not let go.

In a superb essay in the exhibition catalog, Henri Loyrette writes, by "using this new medium, Degas gives a very different tone to his dance scenes, hitherto so lively and peaceful; now the ballet master and the dancer loom up like psychic apparitions from the dark, tormented background ..."

There was indeed a dark side to the Paris Opéra. It could be glimpsed in the figures of frock-coated patrons allowed to haunt the corridors, dance studies, even the wings of the stage. Degas was one of them, having gained, with considerable effort, a temporary pass enabling him to sketch and make notes backstage. 

In the introductory picture of this essay, we see a top-hatted patron lounging on stage as the curtain goes up. It is relatively banal, a Parisian boulevardier enjoying himself indoors. But other such scenes by Degas are more in keeping with the monotype prints of brothels which lent such a disturbing edge to the MOMA exhibit, A Strange New Beauty.

These backstage flirtations/assignations introduce a cautionary element to the story of the Paris Opéra in the age of Degas. It is one more variation of an ageless theme: Et in Arcadia Ego.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) 

Gallery view of the Degas at the Opera Exhibition

Yet, nothing can detract from the wondrous quality of Degas at the Opera. It was a sheer delight to view the exhibit in February, before the Covid-19 horror brought museum visits to a standstill. I hope to see it again before it closes and I urge all, who can make the journey to the National Gallery in D.C., to go.

If the Covid-19 crisis has taught me one thing, it is that we should appreciate great exhibitions like Degas at the Opera with ever more gratitude. To share a few moments standing before incomparable works of art like Yellow Dancers is a priceless gift. To behold Degas' actual signature is to see with our own eyes the mark of genius.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved. Original photos: Copyright of Anne Lloyd, all rights reserved                                                                                         

Images courtesy of the  National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Introductory Image:

Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) The Curtain, ca. 1880. Pastel over charcoal and monotype on laid paper mounted on board: (sheet) 29 x 33.3 cm (11 7/16 x 13 1/8 in.) National Gallery of Art, Washington, Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon

Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) The Orchestra of the Opera, c. 1870. Oil on canvas: overall: 6.6 x 46 cm (22 5/16 x 18 1/8 in.) Musée d'Orsay, Paris

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) Gallery view of the Degas at the Opera Exhibition, showing Degas' Four Dancers, c. 1899. Oil on canvas  overall: 151.1 x 180.2 cm (59 1/2 x 70 15/16 in.)  National Gallery of Art, Washington, Chester Dale Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) Detail of Lorenze Pagans and Auguste De Gas by Edgar Degas, ca. 1871-1872, Musée d'Orsay.

Edgar Degas, The Dance Class, begun 1873, completed 1875–1876. Oil on canvas: overall: 85.5 x 75 cm (33 11/16 x 29 1/2 in.) Musée d'Orsay, Paris, Bequest of Isaac de Camondo, 1911. Photo © RMN-Grand Palais (Musée d'Orsay)/Hervé Lewandowski

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) Detail of Degas' Portrait of the Dancer Jules Perrot, c. 1874–1875. Black and white chalks, charcoal on a faded pink paper: 47 x 31.2 cm (18 1/2 x 12 5/16 in.) Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge

The Paris Opéra, Salle le Peletier. View of the New Opéra Auditorium from the Rue de Provence, ca.1821. Engraving, New York Public Library, Jerome Robbins Dance Division

The Paris Opéra, Palais Garnier. Photochrom Zurich, Paris. Opéra, from Souvenirs de Paris, c. 1889–1890, National Gallery of Art Library, Washington, Department of Image Collection.

Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) The Ballet from "Robert le Diable", 1871. Oil on canvas: overall: 66 x 54.3 cm (26 x 21 3/8 in.) Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art, H. O. Havemeyer Collection, Bequest of Mrs. H. O. Havemeyer, 1929 (29.100.552)

Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) The Dance Class, 1872. Oil on canvas: 32.7 x 46.3 cm (12 7/8 x 18 1/4 in.). Musée d'Orsay, Paris, Bequest of Isaac de Camondo, 1911, RF 1977 Copyright RMN-Grand Palais 

Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) The Dance Lesson, 1879. Oil on canvas: 38 x 88 cm (14 15/16 x 34 5/8 in.) National Gallery of Art, Washignton D.C. Collection of Mr. and Mrs Paul Mellon.

Edgar Degas (French, 1834-1917) The Dance Class, c.1880. Oil on canvas: 39.4 x 88.4 cm (15 1/2 x 34 13/16 in.) Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts, Acquired by Sterling andFrancine Clark, 1924, 1955.562

Edgar Degas, (in collaboration with Vicomte Lepic). The Ballet Master (Le maître de ballet), c. 1876. Monotype heightened and corrected with white chalk or wash: plate: 56.5 x 70 cm (22 1/4 x 27 9/16 in.); sheet: 62 x 85 cm (24 7/16 x 33 7/16 in.) National Gallery of Art, Washington, Rosenwald Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) Gallery view of the Degas at the Opera Exhibition, showing Degas' Yellow Dancers (In the Wings), 1874/1876, The Art Institute of Chicago, and Dancer with a Bouquet, ca. 1877-1880, Museum of the Rhode Island School of Design.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2020) Signature of Edgar Degas.