Photos of shoes
What is it about ballet and photos of tatty shoes?
I had this poster on my wall for years as a teenager. Photo: Harvey Edwards.
I was so excited by this photograph. Why? I suppose I once found the idea of the tough-life-of-a-dancer very romantic. Worn, haggered, tired from expressing and sweating but still beaming and passionate and having a beautiful love affair with the second violinist.
The memory I have of aspiring to be a ballet dancer involves as much dreaming of rehearsals as dreaming of performances. Doing barre under a half painted set, applying layers of make-up, pirouetting in ripped t-shirts, hoiking up torn leg warmers... it's all so established and so attractive.
If the rehearsing dancer is apparently so attractive then maybe it makes sense that the English National Ballet and Tate Britain have paired up this week - the dancers taking class and giving workshops in the gallery whilst visitors look on.
Or maybe it is all one big tatty shoed, dusty floored fetish. A teenage dream that has got far too carried away with itself.