The Dancer

A few weeks back, after more than ten years in Portland, we finally made it to the Art Museum. The occasion: The Dancer: Degas, Forain, and Toulouse-Lautrec.

At first, I found myself oddly resistant to what I was seeing. Then I realized that in order to look at the ballet-related images, I had to overcome a century or so of kitsch overlay; banish the spinning ballerina on my childhood music box, in her tiny tulle tutu. Like listening to the original after hearing dozens of lackluster covers. After that mental readjustment, I fell right in.

Two surprises: first, the solidity and strength of many of the figures. My friend explained that the ideal of the super-thin ballerina came in later, with Ballanchine. Second: Forain. Even if I hadn’t taken art history, between dorm-room posters and the aforementioned balletic kitsch, I’d have seen a lot of Degas and Toulouse-Lautrec. But I’d somehow missed Forain.

His work is lovely, and also creepy — those abonnés in their ominous top hats. I was very glad to discover him. Too bad he was also “a great hater.”

Still, the exhibit is most definitely worth seeing. It’s up til May 11th, Portlanders.

In entirely unrelated news: via the magic of RSS feeds, there is yet another place to read these posts. As of yesterday, I’m signed up with Amazon Connect. I won’t be responding to comments there, though, so if you find me in the land of Amazonia, click back over here to let me know.