A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I reserved timed tickets to enter the National Gallery. They have recently opened up the first floor of the West Building and are offering two special exhibits. One of them is Degas at the Opera. We often associate Degas’ paintings with the ballet, but the Paris Opera had its own ballet company as well as a full orchestra and large corps of singers. He spent much time there—he watched one opera 33 times!
What struck me was the accuracy with which he captured the life of backstage and the rehearsal hall. A big part of my joy as an actor was the life of the backstage world and the rehearsal hall. The relationships that were forged as friend (or sometimes foe!) and then how all of that suddenly transferred onstage or didn’t. It also made me remember that sometimes the real drama was happening offstage. Or the inevitable giggles when something went wrong on stage in a long run. I remember running offstage from one scene, doing a super quick costume and wig change right there in the wings, just to run back on into the next scene because there wasn’t enough time to go back to my dressing room. I felt exhilarated as I got lost in the paintings, reliving what it felt like to be a performer myself.
In a bit of a dreamworld, I landed right in front of his most famous sculpture, Little Dancer Aged Fourteen. Degas had no prior experience in sculpting before this piece. His original sculpture was carved in wax with real fabric for her tutu, bodice, and slippers and real hair tied back with real ribbon. When it was exhibited many critics thought it ‘grotesque’ and ‘absurd.’ Apparently, it was considered odd due to its small size, it wasn’t ‘classical’ or ‘beautiful’ enough. It didn’t sell so he took it back home. After he died, several iron casts were made from the original which is what we see at the National Gallery. Oh, but she seemed alive to me, I could almost feel her breathing. Her 4th position stance, her teenage dancer body language, her gaze upwards, her hands behind her, all made me think of my years in ballet studios as a child. I thought she was beautiful and I felt more alive spending an afternoon with her.
