Harry Lachmann Backstage before a performance of Parade (Ballets Russes costume by Pablo Picasso) 1917 gelatin silver print Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Harry Lachmann Backstage before a performance of Parade (Ballets Russes costume by Pablo Picasso) 1917 gelatin silver print Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Salvador Dalí Butterfly Ballet 1956 watercolor and collage Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia |
Josef Herman Pink Costume for Ballet of the Palette 1942 oil on paper Glasgow Museums, Scotland |
Hess, Nini & Carry Mary Wigman in Tanz der Sehnsucht 1922 gelatin silver print Kupferstich Kabinett, Gemäldegalerie, Dresden |
Léon Bakst Costume Design for Le Dieu Bleu (Ballets Russes) 1922 gouache on paper Philadelphia Museum of Art |
Elliott & Fry Tamara Karsavina in Les Contes Russes (Ballets Russes) ca. 1920 gelatin silver print Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Charles Gerschel Slave in La Tragédie de Salomé (Ballets Russes costume by Serge Sudeikin) 1913 gelatin silver print Victoria & Albert Museum, London |
Edward Landon Ballet Macabre 1946 screenprint Cincinnati Art Museum |
William Heath Quadrille 1837 hand-colored etching (satirical fashion-plate) British Museum |
Adriaen van de Venne Piping Peasant and Dancing Dwarf ca. 1620-26 watercolor and gouache on paper British Museum |
Malvina Hoffman Anna Pavlova dancing the Gavotte 1915 bronze statuette Cleveland Museum of Art |
Władysław Skoczylas Dance of the Brigands ca. 1927 hand-colored woodcut British Museum |
Max Pechstein Dancer in the Mirror 1923 color woodblock print Milwaukee Art Museum |
Malcolm Roberts Dance Group with Variations 1937 lithograph Philadelphia Museum of Art |
Karl Krenek (designer) for the Wiener Werkstätte The Dance ca. 1905-1910 wool and cotton tapestry Minneapolis Institue of Art |
Capriccio of the Imaginary Prison
The faded remains of ancient advertising –
captives on parade in native costume.
Now the whangam, that imaginary animal
led by Wharfinger, keeper of the wharf.
And you, my puce, sitting between the paws
of the mechanical lion, his brittle heart of glass.
The regiments of holiday shoppers,
in formations two-by-two, are borne
along the sliding pavements between displays
into the Pavilion of the Encrusted Compass.
O hub of panopticon, each moment on display,
from the central monitor there is no escape.
This is all accomplished, even the symphonic
wrecking of the antique locomotive, in silence.
I have misplaced my whipcat and whinstone.
I try to recall something that I know.
A westing is a space of distance westward.
Wheep: the sound of steel drawn from a sheath.
What was the name of the Babylonian sidekick
of Sir Thomas More's lead warren?
Time for the steam-driven, slow reckoning,
for the chains and block and tackle dangling
from the eternally unfinished dome, the chrome-
plated waterfall and the ascension
into the arcades, the arcades and their broken promises.
– Richard Garcia (2017)