Creative Writing #1 Journal: Degas or Vermeer? Post by the end of class on Friday
The Milkmaid 1658-1660 Johannes Vermeer oil on canvas
The Girl With The Pearl Earring (not dated) Johannes Vermeer
In John Updike's The Lucid Eye in Silver Town, Jay and his Uncle Quin have a minor disagreement over which artist is better--the Dutch Master Johannes Vermeer or the French Impressionist Edgar Degas. The disagreement not only reveals Jay's early development of arrogance (he haughtily pronounces, "In terms of paint, I think Vermeer makes Degas look sick"), but also reveals something about Updike's own artistic vision. Assuming the young Jay might be a young John Updike (both showed early interest in fine art) and knowing Updike's typical characters and heroes, one can assume that Updike's choice of Vermeer as Jay's favorite artist was carefully chosen. Like Vermeer, John Updike often makes the ordinary character his subject. Often bathed in a beautiful light or doing their jobs with concentration and care, Vermeer's ordinary servants and common laborers look extraordinary; likewise, Updike's heroes are common people dealing with common problems in uncommonly, extraordinary short stories and novels. Remember this: the modern writer, the modern artist, often attempts to make the ordinary extraordinary. The classical writer and artist had no use for the common man, peasant, serf, groundling, and certainly few women. His job was to write poems and plays about kings, nobles, religious leaders ... you know, the people who really mattered. That's what Brit Lit was all about, wasn't it, up until your study of Wordsworth and Shelly and Coleridge?
Now let's move on to our writing task. But first some questions to get you to perform a basic analysis of the paintings.
Analyze the painting in terms of its title, historical context, subject/theme, characters, color, light/shading, composition/perspective, symbols, and tone.
Which one of the paintings (shown above) do you prefer? Give your reasons, using the points of analysis that preceded this question.
How does the painting make you feel upon first glance?
Imagine the "story" that the painting tells.
How does the painting make you feel upon first glance?
Imagine the "story" that the painting tells.
If neither of these four paintings appeal to you, choose another by Degas or Vermeer (you can easily find them online) in order to complete this assignment.
Write a good solid paragraph or creative piece responding to any ONE of these options. Write a minimum of 250 words.
1.Why do you like one of the paintings, or prefer it to one of the others? Do not be intimidated if you do not understand too much about artistic composition.
2. Compare and contrast the Degas paintings with the Vermeers. Which artist do you prefer? Why? Be specific.
1.Why do you like one of the paintings, or prefer it to one of the others? Do not be intimidated if you do not understand too much about artistic composition.
2. Compare and contrast the Degas paintings with the Vermeers. Which artist do you prefer? Why? Be specific.
3. You are one of the characters in one of the paintings. Write a 250 word minimum interior monologue where we can "hear" your thoughts as you converse with yourself (in the first person) in the setting provided by the painting.
4. Compose a descriptive "set" piece in which you describe what you see in vivid prose language, using good concrete nouns, motion picture verbs, vivid images, and/or original figures of speech. No need to tell a story. Just write to set a particular mood.
Post by the end of class today. If you need some inspiration, read some of the responses by the Class of 2014 in the October 2013 archives.
Post by the end of class today. If you need some inspiration, read some of the responses by the Class of 2014 in the October 2013 archives.
posted by JTF @ 10:55 PM
33 comments
33 Comments:
4. "The Star" 1878 Edgar Degas
Stepping with her dainty foot on the darkest, most shadowed part of the painting is the shining star. One arm elongated over her head, the muscles stretched tight, while the other is loosely crooked in front of her. A vision in white, her dress hangs low on her chest, concealing just enough to be considered modest. Below the tight, corseted bodice explodes the stiff skirt. White tights bathe her skinny legs, though only one can be seen. She exhales as she bends into her efface derriere, concealing her second leg in her tutu. Her eyes are parted slightly, the corners of her mouth turned upward into a smug smirk, as if she lives for the attention she's receiving at that very moment. Her dark hair is done up neatly with orange flowers to accentuate her fair complexion. White dress, white tights, white as snow skin, with a single black ribbon tied around her neck.
There is a man lurking in the background, anxious and desperate to see the star. Sheathed in ominous clothing, he stands in the trees watching, waiting. He is blurry, however, she cannot and will not see him. Two other dancers flit and flutter in the back, but they are so miniscule in size, so little detail given to them (perhaps purposefully)so that no one notices that they are there with the star in their presence. The blurred lines and uneven strokes give fluidity to not only the dancer, but to the entire painting. She is always moving, her scenery is always changing. The bright yellows and oranges of the leaves in the trees will soon fall and whither. The shadowed man may give up and move on to his next prey. One thing, however, will never change.
She will always be the star.
2. Between the two painters I prefer the paintings by Vermeer. His paintings seem to show more depth, as if he were taking a photograph and capturing every detail. The Vermeer works have crisper lines and retain their level of detail even into the background features. Degas, on the other hand, seems to focus on one aspect of the painting while losing detail in others. In The Star, for example, Degas highlights the single dancer in the front of the painting while details of the other features are lost against the blurred image of the cliff side. Conversely, Vermeer displays all aspects of his scene with equal detail. In The Milkmaid, the central figure contains most elements of the painting, but Vermeer also keeps minute detail in surrounding features, such as each individual piece of glass in the window and the weave of the wicker basket hanging on the wall. Vermeer's paintings also show much richer colors and sharper contrast than Degas. The paintings by Degas appear faded and dull, like they had been left in the sun for a period of time. In The Dancing Class by Degas, the dancers blend together and all look similar without much noticeable difference. In comparison, The Girl With the Pearl Earring by Vermeer shows vivid contrast between the black background and the girl's white face. He highlights the important features in each painting by presenting a clear difference from the surrounding elements. Vermeer also includes deeper and more powerful colors in his works. He uses a navy blue in both The Milkmaid and The Girl With the Pearl Earring while also showing different shades of that blue with his implications of a single light source in each painting. Degas' works lack such color and seem to consist of a mixture of various tans and greens. Degas' works also appear as if they are out of focus while Vermeer's are clearer. I prefer Vermeer's paintings because they are easier on the eye and show every detail of the idea vividly.
Prompt 1
La Clase de Danse by Edgar Degas is my favorite painting that was presented in this assignment. Naturally I gravitate toward Degas and his paintings of dancers, being that I have been trained in dance all of my life. The way that Degas portrays the dancers is so beautiful.. he captures the true emotions of the dancers and instructor. This painting is not just a picture of ballerinas, it is so much more than that. When I look at the painting I can see the pain and dedication that the dancers are giving to their art. The master is looking onto his students in a way that makes me feel that he is about to yell critiques at them. Girls are lined up by the bar trying their best to impress him. Dance is a discipline and must be fostered through hours on intense work.I have no doubt that their feet are bleeding through their point shoes and sweat is pouring down their faces. But still they look regal and elegant. One of the main focuses of dance is to make it look effortless. This is exactly what Degas achieves in this picture. By no means am I an art connoisseur, but looking at Degas paintings I really am able to feel the emotion. His dancers feel as if they are about to leap off the page into a pirouette or lean into first position.His style is so consistent throughout all of his artwork. He captures the ideas of grace and dedication in an effortless fashion. This painting also seems familiar to me because I feel as if this is what most of my dance classes are like. (Although my instructor is a short old Irish woman as opposed to an intimidating Russian man...)I can relate to the dancers. They appear to seem tired and waiting on the edge of their seats to hear what the instructor is going to say. After hours of practice you aim to finally get the move or routine down correctly, and that is what i see going on here in La Clase de Danse.
La Clase de Danse is my favorite of the four paintings shown. Although The Milkmaid and The Girl With The Pearl Earring are both very realistic looking, La Clase de Danse for some reason feels more realistic to me. Just like many other young girls, I took ballet. This picture reminds me very much of my own dance recitals; all the girls sitting in the back room warming up and preparing to go on. The male instructor also looks very serious, as many dance teachers do before a big show. The individuals are a reflection of that instructor. If the little girls mess up, it is on the teacher. I also love the colors that Degas used. The painting is mainly neutral colors like white, shade of brown and black, and other diluted colors; however, there are hints of very vibrant colors. The bows on the girls’ dresses and the flowers in their hair are what stand out most to me. Degas definitely did this for a reason. He wanted the viewers attention to be drawn to the dancers and their beauty. The last reason I was drawn to this painting is not only because of personal experience, but also because of my love for Degas. I was introduced to Degas at a young age. When I was little I had a replica of one of Degas’ paintings hanging in my little pink bedroom. My mom knew I loved dancing at that age, so when she saw it she knew it would be perfect for me. Every since then I have fallen in love with his work. I love how consistent he is with his subjects and how I can relate to what I see in his paintings. Now this doesn’t mean I know much about art or even details of Degas’ art, but I do love his work. Always have, always will.
I enjoy the works of Vermeer more than Degas. I prefer Vermeer for a few reasons. The big reason is that I enjoy Vermeer’s use of the common or underclass person. I still enjoy Degas’ scenes in his paintings, but I prefer the commonplace compared to the exaggerated. Vermeer also has a more realistic approach to his paintings, which I enjoy. The still life realistic view is a little easier on the eyes than the flourished scenes of Degas. I also prefer Vermeer because of his use of very vibrant colors. I believe those colors draw more attention to the eye than the soft colors of Degas. I also think that Vermeer does a wonderful job at the use of his contrast. He uses it well to show off the important structures in his paintings. I believe that Vermeer also expresses emotion a tad bit better than Degas. Vermeer does a very good job at expressing the emotion in the human person or the emotion in the light or dark of any situation. I also enjoy the textures and features used in Vermeer’s The Girl With The Pearl Earring. In this painting you can see the structure and flow of everything. This painting has great definition on the girl. I prefer Vermeer’s symbol of the lower society as well. There seems to be a somber mood but at the same time the lower class can still shine and be elegant. So those are some reasons why I prefer Vermeer compared to Degas.
The paintings provided are perfect examples of Degas’ and Vermeer’s very different personal touch. The two paintings from Degas’ are much more surreal and creative (in a way) than the two ordinary and hyper-realistic paintings by Vermeer. Both of Degas’ paintings, La classe de dance (actually hung in my house) and The Star, feature dancers – demonstrating Degas’ interest in the arts. The Dancing Class features a dancing studio, which draws a lot of attention to the painting since it’s not an everyday setting. Every dancer is in a different, unique pose, giving the painting a lot of variety and a surreal touch. The Star, also featuring a ballet dancer, stands out a lot because of it’s painting style. The vibrant colors and minimalist background put an emphasis on the dancer, who seems to be almost like a swan. As opposed to Degas, Verneer’s two paintings, The Milkmaid and The Girl With the Pearl Earring, are extremely realistic. They are almost surreal because they are so ordinary, actually (similar to a writer’s work like John Updike). They feature characters in ordinary positions or actions. The painting style is extremely realistic with ordinary colors and ordinary, imperfect faces. The lighting, unlike Degas’ work is extremely realistic as well. These paintings, like Degas’, have a draw to them as well, but for different reasons. We are fascinated by Verneer paintings because they bring a sense of reality to us, while a painting like The Star is interesting to us because it’s amazing and surreal. Both Degas and Vermeer are very different artists with very different styles, but both of their works have a similar draw to them.
I liked Edgar Degas’ work better than Johannes Vermeer’s work, especially La Classe de Danse. I like the color palate that Degas’ choose over Vermeer’s palate. I prefer the emphasis on light airy colors bringing a casual light over a formal scene over the dark bold colors bringing out the extraordinary out of the ordinary. I like the overreaching story in Degas’ painting shown in the jumble of the dancers in a well-lit dance studio. I like a painting that tells a story. Admittedly, Vermeer does the same with his paintings too. Also, there is a great emphasis on the teacher, showing his importance over all of the student dancers. The perspective lines of the floor all point to him, and all of the dancers look at him. I find it interesting how he carries his walking stick with him. First of all, it is as tall as he his. Second of all, he holds it at the perfect vertical. I find this to be a very interesting choice. I think it shows the great influence and power of the teacher, yet it also shows the fragility and weakness of his body. I also liked the finite detail put into the surroundings. First of all, the entire scene is well lit up. I rather like bright, happy, scenes. The painting also displays classical use of perspective. Everything in the room points towards a singular focal point in the middle-right of the page. This can be especially seen in the floorboards and the location of the dancers in the room. The detail of the foreground characters is also amazingly sharp compared to the background. I liked how Degas made the dresses look airy and light.
Two Dancers on Stage
There are many reasons as to why I prefer this painting to some of Degas’s other works. One of the major reasons is because it is very vivid. I enjoy the detail that is put into this painting. For example, I love that I am able to see the expressions on these girls’ faces as opposed to the blurred details of the faces in “The Dancing Class”. I also like this painting because I find its title to be subtly ironic. The first issue with the title has to do with the girl in background with her back turned to us. The fact that there is a third girl in a painting that is titled for two girls makes me wonder why she was painted in the first place. I get an “Alice in Wonderland” kind of feeling from this girl. She seems lost, confused, or ready to start mischief. Perhaps this is the reason why she was painted ¬¬– to make the viewer wonder about her story and her purpose. Another reason as to why I find the title ironic is because, although it is named “Two Dancers on Stage”, there is clearly only one that matters. The dancer with the pink accessories is the obvious focus of our attention. For some reason, we are drawn to her before we even notice that there is another dancer standing right next to her. Perhaps it is her exquisite elongated pose that catches the eye, or maybe it is just the fact that she is centered in the middle of the painting. Lastly, I enjoy the use of contrast in this painting. The white tint of the girls’ dresses stands out in the mists of all the green, yellow, and orange hues of the background. Overall, I feel that this painting is great because not only is it beautiful and pleasant to look at, but it is also interesting and leaves a lot of room for interpretation.
1.) The painting I like most out of the selection is "La classe de danse" by Edgar Degas. There are a variety of colors, and the white of the girls’ dresses dominate the painting. I see the white of the girls’ dresses representing some form of purity; they’re young, almost innocent looking, and taking their first steps into dancing. The girls surround the old, stern teacher, giving him a very commanding presence; he is in the middle of the room, and he seems to be giving a lecture of some sort to his pupils. Degas painted him in a way that really gives off a “wise elder” vibe; the teacher is an old man with a cane, losing his hair, and standing in the middle of the room. His experience gives him authority, and the girls seem to respect that authority by giving him plenty of room and by listening intently. Well, not all girls seem to be listening too intently; there are some with their heads down, looking bored or ready to leave, and a girl to the far left of the painting looks like she’s fed up with the old man. This is another reason why I like this Degas painting: it has personality, and it feels realistic. Every girl in the painting looks different, even though they’re all wearing the same dress. There is not a single girl with the same face; they all have different expressions and posture. Like I said previously, some are listening intently to the instructor, and some look ready to get out of the dance studio as soon as possible.
The characters aren’t the only things like about this painting. The scenery is well painted, and it gives off the proper feel for a dance studio; it appears to be an older looking building, matching the age of the elderly instructor. When I see the two together, I imagine the old man had been teaching in that building for a long time, building up knowledge and wisdom of his craft.
Overall, I like "La classe de danse" by Edgar Degas because it has character, personality, and variety. Everyone in the painting has their own personality and character, and there is a variety of well-painted characters, and beautifully painted scenery to go with it.
1. Of these four paintings, I like Degas’ painting “The Star” the most. I like how the one ballerina in the bottom right-hand catches my eye. However, unlike Vermeer’s “The Girl With The Pearl Earring”, Degas’ painting has a blurred background. I think this puts a lot more emphasis on the lone ballerina. When I look at this painting, I wonder whether the images in the background are people, too. Perhaps they’re dancers just like her. Thinking this makes me believe that this lone ballerina is dancing for herself and not to impress anyone else. Maybe she wants to be different and contemporary instead of the copied-and-pasted kind of ballerinas. On the other hand, maybe this ballerina is the star of the show like the title suggests. Whether she is the star of her own show or a grand production is up to the observer. I also like how you cannot see her left leg since it is in back of her. The colors in this painting seem to go together very well. It almost looks as if the flowers on her tutu are from the strokes of yellow, orange, and brown leaves in the background. As a rather pale girl myself, I like how the ballerina has a fair complexion. It seems like she is glowing compared to the darkness around her. It makes me wonder whether it was titled “The Star” because she is the star of the show or because she is glowing bright like a star in the dark night sky. Overall, I like Degas’ “The Star” because it looks simple, but your imagination can find it to be quite complex.
Prompt 2
Both Degas and Vermeer are excellent painters. Degas seems to paint with more detail. His pieces also appear to have been painted with a special technique, almost like they were blotted with a paint brush. On the other hand, Vermeer seems to use the traditional stroke of a paint brush. Judging from the two paintings posted, it appears that Degas usually portrays ballerinas in his pieces. Vermeer appears to focus his paintings on somewhat simple portraits. Both of the artists put one person or group of people in the foreground as the focus, with other less significant things behind or around them in the background. Vermeer’s paintings are simple and portray common life. Degas captures talent and beauty in his works. Vermeer’s paintings are more realistic while Degas’ are more fairytale-like. I prefer Edgar Degas’ paintings over Johannes Vermeer’s. This is because when I think of masterpieces, I think of an extravagant work of art that will take my breath away. I am not very blown away by simple paintings of common women, which Vermeer seems to focus on. Degas pictures beautiful women doing not so everyday things, like dancing. I like how your eyes just roll around the paintings of Degas. For example, in The Dancing Class, you start looking at the focus of the picture (the instructor) in the foreground and the vertical lines on the floor take your eyes all around the room, making you look at every corner of the room and notice every detail. There is more for the eye to see and take in in Degas’ works. I guess I just think “more is more” when it comes to art.
In The Lucid Eye in Silver Town, Jay prefers Vermeer to Degas saying that Vermeer makes Degas look sick while Uncle Quinn disagrees. Preferring Impressionist paintings, Degas’ La classe de dance, is my favorite painting. Not knowing much about art, it is hard for me to analyze his paintings very well but they seem to have more of an upbeat feeling when you look at them as opposed to Vermeer’s paintings. Looking at La classe de dance and the Star, they tell more of a story and have a purpose. Looking at the dancers, you can tell they are getting ready to put on a recital and they are warming up in the studio before. There are more people in Degas’ paintings, which allow you to create your own story about the painting in your head. The brushstrokes in the dance class and the star are very gentle lines in soft hues accented with occasional black strokes of paint to outline the subject more clearly. Just looking at La classe de dance, the story comes to life. The instructor is making last minute corrections to the routine with the girls that are taking it seriously and want to do well. The girls sitting on and standing next to the piano change the mood of the painting showing that they don’t really want to be there and don’t care. The girls in the painting’s attitude changes from left to right. The ones on the farther side of the room care about the recital and it slowly decreases in interest as you move across the room to the piano. Overall, the story that is told makes the painting more interesting and easier to look at.
La classe de danse by Edgar Degas
Oh, man. I can feel the butterflies violently fluttering their wings against the walls of my stomach. What if I get the moves wrong that the instructor wants us to do? This is not just any normal dance class; this is the class that determines if I get the lead role in the recital! Deep breaths. Inhale, exhale. How do I tie my ballet shoes again? Oh, yeah. Make the two bunny ears then tie them around each other and pull. These nerves are really getting to me. He looks so intense with his cane and grey suit. His hair matches my tutu which is a sure sign that he has years of experience. He keeps looking at me. What am I doing wrong? I guess this is a good thing. I’ll just continue to do the warm up and pretend that I have no idea that he’s watching me. The girl next to me is nonstop complaining. Ugh I just want the lead role. How many more of these grand pleas am I going to have to do? The girl next to me is towering over me. She’ll definitely just get the part because of her height. But I’m skinnier so I would look better doing the moves. Just look at her in her white outfit and gold bow. Hideous. I’m the only one with flowers in my hair. I deserve this spot! My muscles are getting so tired from forming this arabesque pose. Allongé! If only he wasn’t still staring at me, then I could let go just for a minute to rest. I need to show off somehow. Maybe if I Brisé then he’ll give me the spot for sure. Here I go! Hopefully those butterflies in my stomach will give me more flight by their fluttering wings. Ouch! What did I just land on? A dog! Why is there a dog in the dance classroom? Ugh, now I definitely won’t be getting that lead role with a swollen ankle.
4.
Nothing seems to change around this part of the town; every morning begins with chores and every evening finishes with tidying the house. Besides the subtle shifts in temperature throughout the year, all is stable. Stability doesn't bother me, though, for stability in my occupation is what I am most appreciative. My duties as a milkmaid reward me with a home to live, clothes to wear, and food to eat. It may not be the most glamorous of all lives, but it is my life. Today, as usual, I am preparing meals for my masters. The lady owns a dozen or so massive cows, so I have gathered the fresh, frothy milk from them out in the pasture. As I currently pour the milk, I avoid any spills; there are no splashes onto the polished table. I have done this a million times. Although it has no distinct odor, the milk’s faint scent reminds me of my mother’s tender care. The sense of familiarity as I pour the milk reminds me of how my mother did the same for my brothers, sisters, and me. I suddenly lose focus as my mind becomes captivated by the thoughts of my family. Their whereabouts, wellbeing, and all that they have become are unknown to me, and I long to know the answers. My brain spills memories uncontrollably, but the milk flows with control. I regain focus and remember the tasks that I must still perform before the meal is served to my masters. Only the bread has been baked, its aroma is intoxicating, but each meal of theirs is a feast. There is much to do, but there always is. Nothing seems to change around here.
It is now six o'clock in the morning, and all I can do is star at my white comforter with two perfectly pressed sashes lay across from it. Yellow or Pink. This seems foolish to contemplate such a decision for what has now been about ten minutes, but I cannot stop. Will pink come across as to girly? I have to let the director know that I can be tough, fierce. That I am willing to fight for my spot, but I have to be graceful as well. I decide on the yellow. In one swift motion, I wrap the yellow band neatly across my stomach into a neat, big bow that rests near my lower back. My hair tightly curled, but I let some fall on my shoulders. I must sett myself apart from the competition. A 45 minute ride and I'm there. I have imagined this day for quite some time, but why? So I could be ridiculed by some french instructor, barked at my his stupid little pip- squeak of a dog, and being insulted by uptight girls that think that they are God's gift to the world? Why do I want this so badly? There are only nine spots open for his next production, and the chances that I'll get it out of all of the girls auditioning are very slim. As I stretch next to a girl who has to be at least four inches taller then me, the door opens, and the giggles and whispers that filled the room a second ago immediately vanished. The thick, deep French accent filled the entire room like thunder.
"EVERYONE TAKE YOUR SEATS!" He exclaimed, "I am ready to begin."
As I scanned the room I saw just a room full of ballerinas all standing in a stiff stance. I knew all of these girls had to go through hell to get here. Hours of dance a day, blisters, crying, stress, and there he was. A short, little man with half of his hair gone and a cane nearly as tall as him glaring around the room. Judging us. He looked around the room with his glaring eyes until he finally pointed to the girl next to the door.
"You. You go first," he demanded.
I let out a breath of relief, as I slid further onto the piano. Flung my head back toward the sky, and even with all the craziness around me only one thought took over my mind. My feet hurt.
3. He looks intensely around the room. Not looking at our faces, but at our feet, our legs, and our arms. We have to be graceful and poised. His eyes are not the only ones watching. The other girls watch me, waiting for me to make a mistake. He criticizes every single thing he sees, while the girls listen and observe exhaustedly and try to hold themselves together. In my head I count and I count, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, keeping in time with the music. As I stare toward the floor the bang of his stick brings me back to focus and I am counting again. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Everyone is exhausted and tired, but I need to stay tall and dance flawlessly. My feet are the sorest they’ve ever been. The blood from the blisters runs down my feet and I know I’ll have to clean my ballet shoes. My feet are raw from all the dancing. Again my instructor snaps me back to focus when he disapproves of the way I point my feet. He tells the girl to stop playing the music. Talking to everyone, he says that the only way you’ll make it is if you have the passion and the drive. He says that some of us have it deep within us begging to be let out. He looks in my eyes when he says that and I feel the fire within my soul begin to reignite as I am joyed that he sees something in me. He tells the girl to start playing the music again and I dance as though no one was watching. My love for dance was reawakened as soon as he looked into my eyes. He has never done that before. My passion and drive was renewed and now I dance as though I’ve never been criticized harshly. As if my feet were never blistered and bleeding. As though no one hoped I’d fail.
#3. La classe de danse Degas
I lounge on top of the piano, swinging my feet in time with each lilting note that rings into the studio. I heave out a sigh, or as much of a sigh as I can with this golden bow cinched around my waist. My instructor has just instructed us to go through our routine for the seventh time today. I glance down at my shoes, tattered and dirty from just a few months of use. My parents will never agree to let me buy a new pair after these have had such a short life. I massage my tired feet, grimacing at the pain that shoots through them. My eyes flutter shut, and I reach and pull back the wisps of hair that have flown free from my tight bun that I am required to don in the studio. I clasp my hands and stretch my arms behind my back and a yawn works its way out of my unwilling mouth. I still have hours to go at the studio today. The instructor is keeping me after hours to go through my solo for the recital. The recital. The mere thought of it causes sweat to bead above my brow and a lump to form in my throat. I can practically feel the eyes of the crowd settle on me and begin to judge the extension of my legs or the pointedness of my toes. I can see my father in the crowd with his tall, regal frame making the theatre seat look like a majestic throne. He wears a bored expression, but I know that underneath his blank face, he is just waiting for me to embarrass him. My mother sits next to him, her blond hair piled high on her head, and pearls spilling from her wrists and throat. She gives frantic little looks out of the corner of her eye at my father but smiles when I execute a perfect effaced derriere. I shake with the nervousness that has settled in my stomach at the thought of the recital. The instructor barks at me. I smother my nervousness under a confident grin and slid from the still-playing piano onto my tired feet and begin the routine.
I wanted to bow my head, to hide my face. This man was an artist, and he was studying me with the kind of intensity only a creative eye could muster, searching for beauty, for flaws, for normality. I certainly was not beautiful. Not in any sense. How embarrassing it was to have someone search your face for beauty knowing they would only find flaws and normality. I wanted desperately to hide those things. But I was his muse, and what sort of muse hides itself from its artist?
I drew in a breath. Surely, he chose me for a reason. Surely, great artist as he was, he could find some grandeur in me. Perhaps he would even appreciate the imperfections—at least, that’s what I kept telling myself. It was the only way I could face him, the only way I could let my head tilt in his direction, let my eyes meet his.
I feigned confidence, forcing a natural look onto my face. Or trying to. I’m certain he knew. An artist of his skill would never see what is fake and think it to be real. The chance he would call me out and request I just relax—“Relax. Let me see your true beauty.”—terrified me. What would I do? I could not. The truth of this moment was not one of elegance—it was one of fear, of nervousness, of self-doubt. But he never said a word. Slowly, I began to realize why.
He was peeling away the fake layers. His eyes tore open my mask of confidence—and then broke through my fear. They pushed back my self-doubt and revealed, somehow, the twinge of confidence resting underneath. His eyes made me beautiful, and his hands transcribed that beauty.
He was the artist. I was not his muse. His muse rested within me. His muse was the very thing I wish all could see. His muse was the beauty I held within myself.
A crooked left incisor, a slight scar above the right eye, a nose, much to profound for the delicate man, which grows larger and larger as time passes. I have been staring at the same face for what seems like hours. He stares back with a passion, which would normally bring rosy warmth to my cheeks if I hadn’t known his motives. My neck began to tingle, and then throb an hour into the process. However now I am passed the point of pain and focused solely on posing for Mr. Vermeer. Smooth stokes of the brushes are the only sounds to break the stilling silence. An aroma of paint fills the room, clouding my mind. I wander into a daydream reminiscing on how I was chosen to spend my Saturday as a statue in a room with an old man. About a week ago I was approached and complimented on my pearl earrings, which I wear in remembrance of my great-grandmother who was once their proud owner. My family would never be able to afford such a luxury now. Many of times my father has proposed the idea of selling them to pay for rent, or food when we’re running low on money like we are at the end of basically every month. Will my father be proud of me for making money this way? My family has always complimented my looks, but Mr. Vermeer is the first person to offer pay for it. He tells me that a face like mine must be captured in natural beauty. A new ache in my back brings me back to the present moment. For the first time since my arrival, Mr. Vermeer drops his brush and turns the large canvas to face me. His work is complete. I am faced with the image of a beautiful woman I do not recognize, gazing at me with exquisite grace, wearing my great-grandmother’s pearl.
Vermeer and Degas have different approaches to their styles of painting. Although both are pleasing to the eye, I prefer Vermeer’s paintings. His paintings look more real-life, almost like a picture. This is due to more saturation and contrast with the colors in the paintings. Degas seems to create his paintings with lower saturation and contrast than Vermeer. Thus, many of his paintings appear to, in a way, have color that is streaked together. In some of his paintings, it looks like he took the paint brush and brushed different streaks of color together. I noticed that this often occurs in the background of his paintings, such as in “The Star” and “Two Dancers”. The foreground of his paintings usually depict the main characters of the painting. This part of Degas’s painting, I observed, is often clearer than the other parts of the painting. This is similar to Vermeer’s paintings. Vermeer’s paintings are more clear, which is more appealing to me. Almost every detail of his paintings is noticeable. Vermeer also uses light and shadow in an excellent way, often having light shine upon certain areas of the face or objects to stress the importance of them. My favorite painting of Vermeer’s is “The Astronomer”, painted in 1668. This painting has many characteristics that all contribute to the purpose of the main character, the astronomer. In the painting, light shines through a window pane onto a globe, which shows the patterns of the stars and planets in the sky. The light then reaches the astronomer’s face, illustrating his concentration on the details of the globe. This provides a sense of mystery to the painting which can be related to the mysterious subject of astronomy. The cloak he is wearing, which I discovered is called a Japonsche rok, represents his dedication to his scholarly profession (many other scholars, especially geographers and astronomers, are seen wearing a similar cloak in other paintings). The features of “The Astronomer” convinced me that I prefer
Vermeer’s paintings instead of Degas’s. The different scenes depicted in all of Vermeer’s paintings also convinced me that I enjoy Vermeer’s paintings more than Degas’s.
Out of all the paintings provided, my favorite was Johannes Vermeer’s The Milkmaid. The painting is strangely dramatic as the light embodies the right side of her face and brings peace to the painting. If you look closely, her face looks peaceful and the simplicity of the painting brings a soothing aura to the painting unlike Degas’ La Classe de danse. Degas’ painting has so many things to look at and there is more of a harsh aura. Vermeer made good color choices because the colors do not pop out and it is not too bright nor is it too dark but the colors are very warm. Even the smallest things bring light to my eyes. In the painting, the milkmaid pours milk into some kind of bowl but even her movement looks peaceful. The movements do not look drastic, whereas, in Degas’ The Star, the ballerina is holding an arabesque pose and creates a grand atmosphere. Vermeer has a gift of making the audience feel what the character in the painting feels. The reason why my favorite painting is the Milkmaid is because I love the sense of peace I receive from the painting. Even though there are no words, dialogue, and description of the painting, I feel as though the painting is speaking to me in a different language. And I strangely feel peace just by looking at it. I think the beautiful gleaming light was the highlight of the painting because without the light, the painting would look gloomy and dull but the light makes an incredible impact on the painting.
I’m tired of this; I’m tired of everything. I can’t take struggling through my life; I can’t stand barely getting by anymore. John has no idea how I truly feel, how a fire consistently burns deep inside. It’s fire that pushes to be free, one that is steadily fighting to be free. Oh how I wish to not be held down by these burdens of life, how I wish I could live as Mrs. Holtman does up the street. I see her everyday in her lush white gowns, surrounded by soldier like servants. I’m tired of seeing this; I can’t take sitting here wishing I was here.
I cant live this life; I cant live a life so low and worthless anymore. I know I’m better than this, I was meant to be the one above everyone else, not the other way around. John thinks that this year’s crop will be enough to get buy. I know it wont. I know we won’t be able to pay the tax. I know he will be thrown in jail, leaving me with nothing more than the clothes on my back and this stain on our reputation. This is where I’m left, with this decision.
I I’m finished with this; I’m finished with all of this. I’m not living like this anymore, I’m starting over. If I go through with this though I must execute it perfectly, I must leave no trail and no trace behind. I know if I leave I will break Johns heart. There are two options here, have his heart broken swiftly with my abandonment, or have mine slowly constrained and crushed over time. So I choose the least painful option. I will leave at first light tomorrow.
John leaves to tend to the fields before the break of dawn, so I will leave shortly after he leaves. I must pack my few belongings, but conceal them tonight so he will not find out. I will be sure not to leave a trail. I will conceal my hair and cover my face, while at the same time keeping from looking suspicious.
The time has come, John is gone, and the sun has just peaked its head over the earth’s shoulder. I must now be on the move. I grab my sac, and start for the side door to make my exit of this life, and entrance of my life to come. When I open it, all that is to be seen is a sea of white ruffles. Then I’m greeted with a quite confused but polite, “Hello Catherine, where are you off to?” I stand there frozen with terror, and stumbling over my words I spit out, “Hi Mrs. Holtman, uh I’m just off to visit a relative.” Well so much for leaving without anyone knowing.
Pouring Milk
As I work in the back room, walking through the motions of my job, the family I so vehemently hate laughs just behind the wall separating us. I stand, pouring the milk, they sit, enjoying their lives. But hate is such a strong word, too strong for my liking. I lied before. I do not hate them; I am indifferent to them. My hatred is too much a waste of my energy, my precious, individual energy. Something I can call my own. To hate would mean I spend my time thinking about their lives and their actions. But I won’t waste a second more than necessary when dealing with the family. My life is ordinary. My life is mundane. But my life is important. I know my self-value, whether or not others recognize it.
The milk trickles out of the pitcher and into the empty bowl. As it splashes across the rough, clay bottom of the vessel, I think of its beauty. The purity of the milk is mesmerizing. Its white immaculacy is something to envy. Its perfection is desirable, something I strive for. Our souls and our hearts are like milk fresh out of a pitcher: white, pure, free of stain. But it is our actions that taint it. It is our hate, our vices that pollute it. The milk in my bowl was stained; it was impure. So I dumped it out. I started a new. I poured an untouched bowl of milk, and I protected it. Hate does not infect it. Pain does not dilute it.
My bowl is not impeccably clean, but its spotless in its imperfection. Its uniqueness is alluring. The milk, my soul … it is mine.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. I brought my hands down to my side, making sure I kept them open. I held the position for Teacher and waited. I could feel the eyes of the entire class watching and waiting and listening for his words. Teacher was never referred to as Mr. Something he was always simply called Teacher. He had asked me to perform my role alone and I stood waiting for him to pass judgment.
I stood there with my right foot out, my left toe pointed back perfectly, and my hands gracefully rested at my sides. I could feel Teacher’s cold grey eyes scrutinizing me absorbing each detail of my form. His gaze burned into me and I almost could forget the rest of the world existed looking into his eyes.
But it wasn’t just Teacher and me. I could sense the stares of my fellow students; they felt like needles poking into my skin. I could feel their eyes judging me, and their murmurs condemning me. To the right of me a girl groaned and I felt a blush start to rise to my cheeks. What if I had made a grievous mistake and everyone was just waiting for Teacher to throw me out for my egregious error? The urge to run away and go back to the safety of my home and old routine began to overcome me, and I felt the muscles of leg twitch towards home.
But deep down inside, I knew I could never go back. I was born to dance. This studio was my home, not back in the apartment with the porch. Here in this hot and sweaty room filled with stares that made my skin crawl. This was the only life I could live now. I had not ruined the routine; each step was seared into my body and soul. I had performed as perfect as an angel. I pulled back my shoulders and stared squarely back into Teacher’s eyes. This was my place and I was going to prove it to the world.
The Dance Class
He spits ash. When he speaks, he breathes fire. He’s the boogeyman to the dancer’s weary late night dreams. Long ago he lost his personality and now all he has left is destroying others just the same. I despise him to his very core, he is my teacher. The girls stop there gossip with the ringing of the noon bells. The room goes silent as we wait for the dragon to emerge from his cave, his office in the back of this rundown studio. Mr. Garcon never fails to be punctual. Not a girl in this room can recall when he last was tardy but I bet it never has happened. A late summer’s breeze drags through the old cedar doors and into the fringes of chaos. We sit there in the absence of happiness and wait for Garcon to arrive. It’s all business, dancing. No laughing. No smiling. Pay attention to when he speaks so he can’t yell at you for not knowing his quiz. When you hold a position, hold it. Don’t let him see you cheat because God himself can’t save you if he does. Breathe on his time and prefect the art of hiding pain. He is perfectionist to its greatest extant and to that he should be revered. Today I will survive. Today he will not yell at me- as much. The sound of a creaking door emerges from behind the walls, here he comes.
The Star 1878
I have been coming here for three weeks now, watching. Not in a predator-like fashion but in the kind of way one might watch a swan glide across an unscathed pond. It now suddenly occurs to me that I should have picked a better color to blend in to my surroundings, black is not working to my satisfaction. Who am I fooling? I want her to see me. To me, she sticks out like a flower in a barren wasteland, a diamond in the rough if you will. To me she is someone to be marveled at and appreciated by a person who sees the true beauty in her form of art. To her though, what am I? I am surely just some lurker watching the opposite sex do acrobatics, nothing more. Or possibly she sees me as an audience and someone to preform for. Regardless, today is the day I will tell her how I feel. I decide to wait until her final 360-spin set is complete before I make my move. Quickly I run my hand through my hair and smell my breath. Humph. This will not do, I cannot ruin the one chance I have with the woman of my dreams. As I walk back through the forest, I realize I have a mint in my mouth. There is nothing wrong with my breath, then why did I not want to meet her after all this time? Some things are better left undone, like meeting your hero or finding the answer to thought provoking questions. This feeling I have towards the magnificent twirler must remain a mystery, an uncertainty, so it may remain possible.
Edgar Degas and Johannes Vermeer are both notable artists. Their paintings are pleasing to look at it and easy to appreciate. While looking at and appreciating their works of art, I noticed a few similarities and differences between them. Both artists used oil on canvas, but the outcome of this technique differed. Vermeer’s works are extremely precise and detailed. At a first glance, one can easily mistake Vermeer’s paintings to be photographs. Degas’ works, on the other hand, are obviously paintings because you can clearly see his gentle brush strokes. Both artists paint pictures of ordinary people in typical situations, but they somehow make these people come to life in extraordinary ways. One can only imagine the interesting background stories these characters might possess. Vermeer’s paintings, with the contrasts of light and dark, seem to portray an almost serious mood. Degas uses a lot of bright colors in his paintings to express a lighter mood. I prefer Vermeer’s works of art to Degas’ because I find it fascinating how Vermeer can make his paintings seem almost lifelike. I appreciate artists who use their talent to make me think their work of art was taken with a camera and not drawn by hand. The Milkmaid and The Girl With The Pearl Earring are both perfect examples of paintings that resemble photographs.
My favorite picture is the “La class danse” (The Dancing Class). I like this picture the best because I can relate to it. I spent most of my childhood going to ballet classes. I remember the stressfulness of the class. My leaps always had to be the perfect height, my pirouettes turns always had to be sharp and precise, and I always had to make sure my legs were perfectly bent in my plié. If I failed to do any of these things my dance teacher would go crazy. I would get called names or forced to repeat the technique I was asked to do over and over again until it was up to my dance teacher’s standards. There were days were I would leave ballet class and burst into tears. There were days were I could barely walk from the blisters on my feet. Sometimes I just wanted to give up on dance because in my mind I thought I wasn’t good enough. In this painting I can see the way these ballet dancers feel. I can see that they are stressed from repeating the same routine over and over again. None of the dancers are smiling, and it’s probably from exhaustion. In the painting there’s a ballerina sitting on a bench with her head thrown back. By her expression I can tell that she’s sighing “I give up!” The ballet instructor looks like he’s just drilling the girls. He has a very serious stance and he looks like he’s holding an intimidating gaze. He’s making sure that his ballerinas are performing the routine as perfectly as they can. His expression reminds me of the one I used to get from my ballet instructor. Edgar Degas perfectly portrays a typical ballet class in this painting. I can identify with the stressfulness that is conveyed in this picture.
Old lady Meredith graces the spacious room with her impeccable piano skills as I practice my for plié the sixty-fifth time. The music is the only thing getting me through hour 5 of this 8-hour practice. My feet hurt, my back aches, and my stomach is growling. I guess this is what it takes if you want to be “The Star.” "Plié, plié, releve, Demi-pointe, plié." "Plié, plié, releve, Demi-pointe, plié." "Plié, plié, releve, Demi-pointe, plié," Mr. Conway repeats almost like a robot.
Little Lucy looks like limp lettuce, sitting on top of the table with an uncomfortable face like a child who didn't get her way with her parents. She can't handle the pressure, she doesn't want it bad enough. "Plié, plié, releve, Demi-pointe, plié. plié, plié, releve, Demi-pointe, plié." It almost seems as if Mary Lou's dog is barking to the beat of the exercise. Heck, he has more rhythm than she does fluttering around the dance floor. Times like these are when I question why I even dance. Why do any of us dance? Is it for the rush? For the great sense of accomplishment? Maybe just forced by our parents to become some prodigy? Well, I know I'd rather be prancing around the local shops than prancing around in this sweat filled room. The big show was in 4 months and the leading role was going to be announced any moment this week, I tried to use as motivation as I performed another plié, plié, releve, Demi-pointe, plié.
A few more pliés, tendus, frappes, and releves go by and practice is over. I was ready to rush out of the room as a turkey croissant from my favorite cafe is now the only thing on my mind. Before I was able to dash out of the room with any energy I had left, Mr. Conway asked us to gather around old lady Meredith's piano for a moment. My stomach growls as he utters the words "our star for this years anticipated show will be Grace! Congratulations on your hard work!" I could see the envy on each girl's face as they had to applaud me. I can't believe I got it! I've worked so hard for this and I got it! Suddenly, I was no longer hungry. All of my concern was now turned towards my important role as "The Star." I guess success fueled my hunger. So I guess this is why we dance. For the great feeling of accomplishment that rushes your body at times like this.
Most people have a favorite style of painting, a favorite artist, a favorite period of art; I enjoy everything. When I look at famous painters from the past, I begin to wonder how they decided to paint their subject matter and the method they used. Take Degas and Vermeer for instance, their paintings at the first glance are quite similar because they are both paintings of people but upon a closer look, one finds out that their paintings couldn’t be more different from one another. Vermeer liked to paint realistic scenes of everyday common people doing their chores like his painting “The Milkmaid”. It was often painting of ordinary person doing an ordinary task. The colors are more subdued and the subject matters are middle class commoners. His painting in my opinion shows you history of the task at a point in time. On the other hand, Degas subjects are more glamorous scenes of people that would be referred to as high society. His color scheme is more brilliant and his scene brings out curiosity in you. Degas’ painting is more impressionist rather than realistic even though he would have liked to be referred to as a realistic painter. I like Degas painting style and subject matter because it depicts a moment in time. I can see myself participating and relating to his painting “The Dancing Class.” I also like his color scheme and the method he uses when painting his scenes. Although I am a bigger fan of Degas, I do believe Vermeer’s paintings have their own distinctive qualities to stand out from many other artists’ paintings.
1. To someone who sadly does not appreciate art as much as they could, me especially, all of these look like wonderful pieces. I do not know enough about art to truly give an in depth analysis of one of these pieces. However, there is one that does stick out to me. The Girl with the Pearl Earring by Johannes Vermeer really did draw my attention. Vermeer and Degas are absolutely gifted painters, but I did find Vermeer’s paintings more captivating. I really enjoy how Vermeer makes his pieces look so life like, I feel like I am looking at pictures taken with an actual camera. With The Girl with the Pearl Earring, Vermeer also seems like he captures true emotion. What I thought about when I first saw this picture was that this girl is a cancer patient. She has the fabric covering her head where her hair used to be, and she shows a beautiful face with nice clear skin. Then the pearls were worn to draw the attention away from her hairless head. There is absolutely nothing wrong with not having hair, especially for a cancer patient, but I am sure it is hard for those kinds of people to see how truly beautiful they are. This girl seems like she is a fighter, one to not give up easily on her dreams. She looks a little startled in this picture but that is not a side she shows regularly. That’s why I enjoy this picture the most. I believe that the girl Vermeer was trying to capture was a strong, naturally beautiful woman who has a drive to live and make it in the world. Which is something a lot of teenage girls forget about. That sometimes we are stronger than we seem, and more beautiful than we realize.
My favorite painting of the four on the blog post is The Milkmaid by Johannes Vermeer. I definitely like Vermeer’s paintings more than Degas’ because they look more realistic and the colors pop more so than in Degas’ paintings. While Degas’ art has more motion, and perhaps more of a story behind it, Vermeer takes an ordinary scene and makes it extraordinary. The Milkmaid, in particular, does just this. This is a painting of a common woman doing her everyday job, but the way the light hits her and the colors throughout the painting make this a masterpiece. The shadowing from the light coming in through the window draws your eye straight to the subject. Then, you follow the woman’s eyes down to the milk that she is pouring, which then leads your eyes to the food on the table. Every little angle is meant to be a pathway for your eyes to follow throughout the picture. The attention to detail is also amazing. The food on the table, the object on the floor, the basket on the wall-they all contribute to the realistic feel of the painting. You can even see the folds in her clothes and the muscles in her forearm. The plain white wall behind her serves as a deterrent for wandering eyes, meant to keep the viewer focused on the subject and what she is doing. I think Vermeer has a knack for mimesis, if you will, and is able to capture that in an extraordinary painting of an ordinary woman.
Kari W. Green said...
Kari Wood
Honors Creative Writing – Green
Q2 Journals
Journal #1: Degas vs. Vermeer
1. Of these four paintings, I like Degas’ painting “The Star” the most. I like how the one ballerina in the bottom right-hand catches my eye. However, unlike Vermeer’s “The Girl With The Pearl Earring”, Degas’ painting has a blurred background. I think this puts a lot more emphasis on the lone ballerina. When I look at this painting, I wonder whether the images in the background are people, too. Perhaps they’re dancers just like her. Thinking this makes me believe that this lone ballerina is dancing for herself and not to impress anyone else. Maybe she wants to be different and contemporary instead of the copied-and-pasted kind of ballerinas. On the other hand, maybe this ballerina is the star of the show like the title suggests. Whether she is the star of her own show or a grand production is up to the observer. I also like how you cannot see her left leg since it is in back of her. The colors in this painting seem to go together very well. It almost looks as if the flowers on her tutu are from the strokes of yellow, orange, and brown leaves in the background. As a rather pale girl myself, I like how the ballerina has a fair complexion. It seems like she is glowing compared to the darkness around her. It makes me wonder whether it was titled “The Star” because she is the star of the show or because she is glowing bright like a star in the dark night sky. Overall, I like Degas’ “The Star” because it looks simple, but your imagination can find it to be quite complex.
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