Looking at the cover for the new graphic novel/memoir about dance (in Oct 7 links, but also here

Siegel

I started thinking about the differences between dancers in photographs and dancers in painting and drawings. The cover image on this book does look at bit like a Will Eisner drawing (though it isn't) in its loopy exaggeration, but I have to admit to wincing just a bit at the image of ballet it projects. What other non-photographic images have people seen, and what do they think about them?

There's this fellow named Degas who seems to have a future. He's pretty good on horses too.

In all seriousness, Degas didn't try to capture dancers in movement (for the most part). His dancer paintings are more like his washerwomen-- he catpured them in rehearsal breaks, bowing, tying their shoes, etc, more than in the flow of movement.

It reminds me of a page from a dance history book I have (is it Jowitt's? All of my books are in boxes right now) about Isadora Duncan. A photograph of her is next to a few sketches of her. Since photography was nothing what it is now, Duncan had to stand very still for the picture. The caption reads something like, "the artist's sketch tells us more: we see the joy and fullness of movement Duncan captured." And it's true-- sketches capture an essence that maybe even contemporary photography wouldn't.

I thought that was on topic, but now I am not so sure. My apologies if it isn't.

Great topic, sandik! I confess that I am drawing a blank about this. I hope everyone will ransack their brains and bookshelves so we can come up with a substantial list of dance-art, the good and the bad.

Edited to add: Just thought of Boticelli's "Primavera" in the Uffizi and turned to some art books to find a reproduction.

On the left side of the panel, the three graces are holding hands and dancing. They are very vertical and positioned quite close to one another. It's as if they are caught by a camera while doing a dance in which they move inward and outward but maintain a circle.

Two graces have raised their arms (holding hands) above their heads. The grace on the left is in releve. The grace in the center (whose back is facing us) extends her right leg in tendu derriere and has visible turnout. The grace on the right has placed her left foot to the side in pointed tendu.

N.b: this was around 1478 (!), long before any ballet positions were codified, suggesting that the basics may have a much longer history (in an informal way) than is mentioned in the histories.

Much else is going on in this painting. We see Mercury raising his caduceus to drive away the wind -- the nymph Chloris being attacked by the wind god Zephyrus -- Venus posing rather like a Madonna in the center -- and Flora (spring, or primavera) herself, moving towards the center and scattering what appear to be flower petals over a flower-bedecked lawn. Each is captured frozen in a split second of time.

But only the three graces attempt to dance.

A quick Google search turned up this fuzzy by fairly adequate internet reproduction of the painting:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Primaver.JPG

Coming back to nibble at this topic again -- I know I'm not being as clear as I'd like, but I'm struggling with this. Of course there is Degas, and those images of Duncan by Rodin and Jose Clara and Max Walkowitz, and the many illustrations from the Diaghilev era of the Ballet Russe (especially Nijinsky) and. and, and... -- artists seem almost compelled to draw dancers, and many of them have done wonderful work, suggesting movement in a way that still photography sometimes cannot, as whitelight mentions.

But along side this there is the huge collection of what I can only describe as treacly pictures of dancers -- what my sister and I have always called the scary ballerina (like click on ballet studies). When I see this kind of illustration, especially in kids books, I wonder what image the reader is getting of dance -- if this is what it looks like, what do they think people are doing?

I have a wonderful oversized book published in 1975 and edited by Walter Terry and Jack Rennert entitled "100 Years of Dance Posters." The book includes long paragraphs of notes on each poster. Amazon shows copies available.

Perhaps this is always the case when great artists and schlock artists are working side by side. Think of all the treacly Madonnas and simpering saint-martyrs sthat were produced at the same time that Caravaggio and Velazquez were working.

A bad artists can make bad art out of any subject matter. And they often find a market for it.

Qualities shared by bad representational art of all types include sentimentality, flabbiness of line, a tendency to depict stock images already in the popular imagination, and (often) the inability to convey the feeling of real movement.

kfw, your post made me turn to Richard Buckle's In Search of Diaghelev, which includes a number of depictions of dancers who, far from being frozen in a pose, actually seem to be moving, including Valentin Serov's poster of Pavlova in (I think) Les Sylphides, Serge Lifar in Giselle, by Pavel Tchelitchev, and Jean Cocteau's poster of Nijinsky as the spectre de la rose for the Ballets Russes. Copies of this book are available on the internet.

I painted one of those on velvet when I was a kid... I'm not sure what I was thinking, except to stay within the lines...

I don't like the drawing, I don't think it depicts ballet accurately, but I think it is -- as an illustration of a little girl's fantasy -- appropriate as the cover of this book. Some of the things that initially attract little girls to ballet are the idealization, the glamour, the feathered and jeweled costumes and the tiaras. So as a thought balloon, it works for me. Those elements could have been handled, though, in a more aesthetically pleasing manner, maybe even more realistically, without sacrificing the suggestion of fantasy.

I suspect that since much of ballet is movement and it is "fleeting" it may be very hard to capture it all in a drawing. Seems like most drawings capture more static "things" ... even poses as in life drawing, portraits and so forth.

Of course some positions are "held" long enough for the artists to "capture" all the lines... but some of the dramatic movement seems to be very elusive. There are some excellent drawings and paintings of horses which contradict the above notion of capturing movement in still art.

I prefer photography to capture the moment.