Rodin: Dancers and Drawing. Unfinished?

Having seen so many of my fantastic sculptures you might perhaps be wondering what a sculptor's drawings look like.

Well, wonder no further.

(Get it? "Wonder", "wander"...)

But first a photo of myself.


Here I am drawing some Cambodian dancers in 1906. They were the royal dancers of the King of Cambodia (still a French protectorate at the time; ah how times have changed!) Even from this photograph above you can see that they have a curious - yes, curious, for the dancers were so different from what we were used to in France! - but graceful air about them. They had the supple movements and attitude one expects to see from a dancer, enhanced by how exotic they were. The elegant movement of dance has fascinated me throughout my life, and you can imagine how happy I was when I heard about them.

I remember it well. There were more than 40 of them and the first time I saw them was when I was invited to a garden party at a gala performance held at Pre Catalan in the Bois do Boulogne. One of my contemporaries, P.B. Gheusi, described me as going into "ecstasies" over them, "whose immaterial silhouettes [I] drew with infinite love". I should think that he is quite right! I spent countless hours drawing them at the gardens of the rue Malakoff villa where they stayed, and took the chance to sketch some portraits of the King of Cambodia (Sisowath) himself.

The dancers next had an appointment at the Colonial Exhibition at Marseille. Of course, I wanted to study them more closely, so I went to Marseille as well. There is an interesting backstory behind the drawings of that day as well.

“To study them more closely I followed them to Marseille. I arrived on a Sunday and went to the Villa des Glycines [to see the dancers]. I wanted to get my impressions on paper, but since all the artists' materials shops were closed I was obliged to go to a grocer and ask him to sell me wrapping paper on which to draw. The paper has since taken on the very beautiful gray tint and pearly quality of antique Japanese silks. I draw them with a pencil in my hand and the paper on my knees, enchanted by the beauty and character of their choric dances. The friezes of Angkor were coming to life before my very eyes... I loved these Cambodian girls so much that I didn't know how to express my gratitude for the royal honor they had shown me in dancing and posing for me. I went to the Nouvelles Galeries to buy a basket of toys for them, and these divine children who dance for the gods hardly knew how to repay me for the happiness I had given them. They even talked about taking me with them.”

Rodin as told to Mario Meunier

Ah, what a wonderful memory indeed. Here are some of the drawings of the dancers I produced. Their interesting style is perhaps in part because I never let my eyes leave the subject while I am drawing it:

What I am most proud of in these works is how I managed to capture the dynamism and movement of the dancers. Although some of them were staying quite still while they posed for me, I was able to get the kind of movement and fluid grace that is in the true nature of the dancers onto paper. After looking at them, I think my drawings seek to describe the volume and space of my subjects as well. For example in the drawing with a blue wash, note how the contour of my lines depicts the volume of her billowing costume so well. Perhaps it comes from being a sculptor. I can never tear myself away from wishing to express volume.

Sadly the public has (had, anyway) sometimes accused my drawings of being "unfinished" just because they are more expressive than what they are used to. Pah! The attitude and gesture of the subject is of utmost importance. I would rather do a million of these "unfinished" drawings than bog down a subject's inherent brilliance and spontaniety by "finishing" it.

Here is one of my "unfinished" drawings. What do you think of it?

P.S. You can see more of them at the Musee Rodin.