Degas is loved the world over so there has been much excitement around the Royal Academy’s latest exhibition. So much so, that they have even changed their admission system whereby friends of the RA now also have to book tickets to avoid over-crowding and ‘enhance their experience’ (really?).
The exhibition focuses on Edgar Degas’s preoccupation with movement, the obsession that led him to concentrate on the ballet imagery which made him famous. These iconic images range from rehearsal scenes to innovative pastels produced towards the end of his career.
Edgar Degas, Two Dancers on a Stage, c. 1874. Image via www.artandarchitecture.org.uk.
Degas was yet another artist who was meant to pursue a different path. His father, an art lover and collector, had earmarked his son for a career in law, and Degas had to persuade his father to let him attend the École des Beaux-Arts. He was fortunate enough to receive advice on drawing from J.A.D. Ingres but was largely self-taught, travelling extensively and gaining experience by copying the works of the great Renaissance artists.
This exhibition follows Degas’s attempts to capture movement similarly to photography of the time. The concept behind the show is brilliant and really reveals the artist’s pioneering ingenuity but, at times, the exhibition becomes more about movement than Degas and a number of key masterpieces are missing here.
Edgar Degas, Dancer Posing for a Photograph, 1875. Image via www.topofart.com.
The exhibition opens with projections of a ballet dancer, shown on the blackened walls. There is no doubt that this is an unusual start but presents a fascinating beginning, revealing that, as important as Degas’s paintings are, the key focus is movement – the graceful, elegant dance of a beautiful ballerina (I’ve always liked tu-tus).
The RA has erected temporary walls to encourage flow and movement around the exhibition. Their gorgeous putty colour and the dim lights do make this very dark (I almost needed a torch) but this is for conservation reasons, so unavoidable.
Sometimes, we peer into dancers’ classrooms, at other times we, too, are watching a performance on stage; Degas’s vivid realism, seen through both his finished compositions and preparatory drawings, is intriguing.
One entire room (with atmospheric, murky cassis walls) is focused around Little Dancer, Aged Fourteen, the largest sculpture Degas made and the only one displayed during his lifetime. Degas made 26 figure studies providing a comprehensive study of the girl in the round, analysing the figure in a way that was easy to translate into three dimensions. Unusually, it is apparent that here the artist moved while the model remained still. Some of the sketches, consisting of only a few fluid chalk lines, tell us that Degas was moving quickly. Degas had an innovative approach to representing modern individuals and the power of these drawings shows that there is no one way to see this figure. This sculpture was based on Marie van Goethem, a dance student at the Paris Opera School. Modelled in wax, supported by a metal armature, the figure is dressed in a muslin skirt, lace-trimmed bodice and ballet slippers.
Edgar Degas, Little Dancer, Aged Fourteen, 180-81. Image via www.tate.org.uk.
The work caused a sensation when exhibited in the sixth Impressionist exhibition in the spring of 1881. The dancer appeared so real, that people were shocked, commenting that she looked like a horrible, repulsive guttersnipe. We have seen this piece so frequently, and in so many forms, that we are no longer as struck by it as we should be. But it’s important to remember that for its time, it was shocking. It is the forerunner of many contemporary works that initially provoke dramatic reactions. Remember the torn opinions caused by works
such as Damien Hirst’s shark or Tracey Emin’s bed. Now we are used to them, we are immune to their shocking nature. The same goes for this work, we have become over-familiar, which is a travesty as this sculpture is far from boring and deserves all this attention.
The exhibition also presents Degas’s work juxtaposed against the photography and film of the day, primarily by photographers Etienne-Jules Marey (a leading French scientist specialising in movement) and Eadweard Muybridge. By doing so, the curators have attempted to show that, as well as being an artist known for his beautiful images, Degas was modern and radical – fully attuned to the developments of his time. This is really a second exhibition and, in one sense, it was fascinating. In another, it rather got in the way. I’d come to see Degas, we’ve seen plenty of Muybridge recently with Tate’s large-scale retrospective.
Eadweard Muybridge, Woman Dancing (Fancy), plate 187 of Animal Locomotion, 1887. Image via http://makingamark.blogspot.com/.
The exhibition includes a series of six wide, narrow canvases from the 1870s which are extraordinary, not least because they are such unusual works. The curators here suggest that they may have been inspired by photography of the time showing panoramic scenes. The works mostly depict wide exercise rooms where the dancers are positioned rhythmically, in rehearsal. The viewer is invited to scan the scene as one would have with popular panoramas.
Edgar Degas, detail of The Dance Lesson, c. 1879. Image via www.guardian.co.uk.
Continuing with the theme of photography, the exhibition focuses on Degas’s own photographs. Having bought his first camera in 1895 (when he had just turned 60), Degas became an instant enthusiast and his photographs reflect the compositions of many of his paintings. Several of the self-portraits are startlingly intimate, focusing on the solitude of his later life. Although his own photographic equipment was unable to capture movement, he used his photographs to make drawings.
Edgar Degas, detail of Dancer Adjusting Her Shoulder Strap. Image via www.telegraph.co.uk.
We became fully aware of quite how busy the exhibition was when we went into Colour and Dynamism – a dead-end room that traps visitors on one side. Here, pastels from later in Degas’s life have been showcased. The ballerinas, who we saw in such active and lively poses, seem to have aged along with Degas and these works are have less movement, but the highly saturated colours of the pastels help to animate the dancers.
A room full of pastels. Image via www.timeout.com.
The last room contains a video work but it was absolutely freezing and, not having dressed for the Arctic, I was forced to hurry out rather than watch.
The exhibition is actually not as extensive as I anticipated although it did allow me to indulge and study many of Degas’s exquisite drawings. Hung here en masse the works do, for me, lose some of their charm and intimacy but this is a remarkable, and very focused, exploration of a great artist. Degas was unusual as an Impressionist, his preoccupation with movement setting him apart from the others, whose concerns centred around the transient effects of light and atmosphere. Degas’s ballet scenes and passionate focus on contemporary subjects is wonderful and this show re-teaches us to appreciate his genius.
Edgar Degas, Three Studies of a Dancer in Fourth Position, c. 1878–81. Image via www.royalacademy.org.uk.
Degas and the Ballet: Picturing Movement is at the Royal Academy until 11th December 2011, www.royalacademy.org.uk.