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Last year the Portland Art Museum* brought us The Dancer; Degas, Foraine and Toulouse Lautrec. When I saw Degas' tutus up close I found a new respect for his work. Nothing more than speckled dots of light on frothy clouds of crinoline, but magical. The tutu was begging to be painted by an impressionist.
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I too have been inspired by the dancer, as seen in this photograph of my niece at ballet practice six years ago. I no longer remember which feet are hers, this is the only photo on the negative contact sheet that doesn't show her face. It is also the one I most experimented with in the dark room. I have yet to perfect the portrait photo, the one that takes two subjects, both the face and the light.
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