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| Anonymous German Woodworker Dancing Couple ca. 1850-1900 painted wood (spinning carousel ornament) Museum of Saxon Folk Art, Dresden |
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| Diane Arbus The Junior Interstate Ballroom Dance Champions, Yonkers N.Y. 1963 gelatin silver print Milwaukee Art Museum |
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| André Derain At the Suresnes Ball 1903 oil on canvas Saint Louis Museum of Art |
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| Howard Kanovitz Dance 1965-66 oil on canvas Los Angeles County Museum of Art |
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| Robert Mapplethorpe Dance 1990 gelatin silver print Los Angeles County Museum of Art |
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| Harry Sternberg The Dance 1932 etching and aquatint Philadelphia Museum of Art |
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| Thomas Miles Richardson the Younger A Spanish Dance 1850 drawing, with watercolor Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
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| Charles Williams Waltzing in Courtship 1815 hand-colored etching British Museum |
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| Judith Spector Clancy Ballet ca. 1945 gouache on paper Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco (Achenbach Foundation) |
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| Laurie Wilson Ballet Couple against Green Curtain ca. 1950 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne |
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| Laurie Wilson Ballet Couple in Australian Landscape ca. 1950 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne |
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| Raoul Dufy La Danse (Le voyage aux îles) 1910 woodcut Cleveland Museum of Art, Ohio |
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| Eugène-Louis Lami Alfred de Musset dancing with a Partner 1828 drawing, with watercolor Morgan Library, New York |
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| Laurie & Whittle Follies of the Day 1798 hand-colored mezzotint with etching British Museum |
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| Jacques Lowe Young People Dancing 1959 gelatin silver print Minneapolis Institute of Art |
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| Cornel Lucas Robert Helpmann and Moira Shearer 1947 bromide print National Portrait Gallery, London |
Maurice Ravel
That in the living, the fastening
seashells onto skyscrapers, syncopating
the lozenges, oh beauty! indestructible
you have become by his hands.
The harmful distances of silence
somewhat abated, he can finally rest
in your brain companioned by tempestuous
thoughts, walking him up and down,
waltzing him round, always with
love and discrimination self-taught.
Removing the silencer from the gun
he shot agates into your eyes, fell
upon the weak cries of infants
with leonine roars from backyard fences
and did not falter before the bolero's
dumb desert. His wrist dripped oases.
If, at the untellable hour of quiet,
he had not put fingernail to
waterglass, what trees we'd've
turned to! fugitive, quivering.
– Frank O'Hara (1926-1966)