Beauty, distressed.
I was reading Time Out NY's interview with one of my favorite Project Runway designers, Leanne Marshall, when I came across this image:
I love that what inspires Leanne is a very well-worn pair of pointe shoes -- stained satin, frayed seams, exposed darning, and all.
It's easy to be captivated by the glitz and glam of the stage: the bright lights, perfectly coifed hair, gorgeous costumes, and shiny new pointe shoes.
But that's all illusion.
What I find beautiful are dancers out of the spotlight . . . backstage, in rehearsal, in class. In those moments, you see the sweat, the toil, the perseverance, routine, discipline, and grind. The reality that goes into the making of the illusion.
Those dead pointe shoes take on artifactual significance as a repository of all of the labor, intelligence, and dedication that go into the creation of a dancer.
That sense of the movement that has been, along with the promise of the movement that will be, is so beautifully captured by Leanne's designs too. Me. Heart. Leanimal.
On a related note, I'm retiring my old ballet slippers tonight, and it breaks my heart. Sigh. I guess at the rate of four classes a week, my new Capezio Sculptures will be scuffed up in no time. One can hope.
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