Strobridge Lithographing Company The Barnum & Bailey Greatest Show on Earth Columbus and the Discovery of America Grand Romantic and Picturesque Ballet 1891 lithograph (poster) Cincinnati Art Museum, Ohio |
Strobridge Lithographing Company Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Combined Shows Bears That Dance ca. 1918-20 lithograph (poster) Cincinnati Art Museum, Ohio |
E. McKnight Kauffer (designer) Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey The Greatest Show on Earth Elephant Ballet staged by George Balanchine 1942 lithograph (poster) Cincinnati Art Museum, Ohio |
Ferd. Mayer & Sons (New York) Ballet Scene 1870 lithograph (poster) Library of Congress, Washington DC |
Jean Cocteau Ballets Russes Théâtre des Champs-Élysées (Vaslav Nijinsky in Spectre de la Rose) 1913 lithograph (poster) Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Armin Hofmann Giselle Basler Freilichtspiele 1959 lithograph (poster) Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum |
Anonymous Designer Festival of American Dance Laguna Beach High School Auditorium 1937 screenprint (poster) Library of Congress, Washington DC |
Max Bill Tanzstudio Wulff, Basel 1931 poster Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum |
Paul Rand Dancer 1939 lithograph (poster) Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum |
Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Paris Ballets Russes de Diaghilew (reproducing Picasso costume design) 1939 lithograph (poster) Princeton University Art Museum |
Anthony Crickmay David Hughes London Contemporary Dance Theatre 1990 poster Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Max Waldman Mikhail Baryshnikov 1975 poster Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Anonymous Designer Nureyev ca. 1975 poster Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Anonymous Designer Rudolf Nureyev Don Quixote, Zürich Ballet 1983 poster Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Atsushi Iijima Rudolf Nureyev Manfred, Zürich Ballet 1983 poster Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Jürgen Vollmer Nureyev in Paris Le Jeune Homme et La Mort 1966 poster Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Noir Cacadou, or The Fatal Music of War
We were standing around
with guitars and mandolins
when the war ended. Yes.
The sea was calm and pale.
Almost polite. Whatever
had it meant to us, what
will you mean to me, does
nothing end? It was dull
as a spider's banquet. Just
twangings and a wave or
two. "Japee!" someone called
through his high red beard
and the Admiral said "Men
you were admirable." We
loved him as I love you. More,
and it meant nothing, simply
a remark after another war.
We were gay, we had won, we
dressed in stovepipes and
danced the measure of being
pleased with ourselves. That is
why I want you, must have
you. Draw the black line where
you want it, like a musical
string, it will be love and lovely
and level as the horizon from
our exotic and dancing deck.
Your beard will grow very
fast at sea and you will
not know what instrument
you are patting. It will mean
a lot to you until the lines
stop vibrating and become
a thin black cry that ends.
But no admiral will speak
yet, we've a lot to do first.
I'm not ready for my costume.
We'll beat the gong, yell
out our uneatable tongues,
wallow lasciviously in arms.
You'll see how easily we
provoke the waves, although
the sextant shakes and positions
get difficult. And every dawn
the whine will go up, the black
look that means love is near.
We'll draw our own lines
and be what the sea tries
to talk about. Then afterwards
we'll help each other dress, lay
flowers at the dummy's feet.
– Frank O'Hara (1926-1966)