Matisse’s Dance (I) is a reason to go to the Museum of Modern Art in NYC.

I took a tough art history course in college and after doing poorly on a test, the TA mercifully gave me some great advice: when you’re stumped on a painting, just describe what you see.

(I think this is also excellent advice for problem solving in general. God bless the liberal arts education.)

In Dance (I) the dancers are relatively life size, but that’s about where reality ends. The five folks appear in motion, though not particularly anchored to solid ground. Gravity doesn’t seem to apply. Maybe they’re in space; maybe they’re in their feelings.

Anyways, I was standing in front of the painting on Friday night and noticed that the dancer to the far left was painted on top of a limb going a different direction. Maybe once the music started playing, Matisse reconfigured the dance moves. Either way, it’s pretty clear that the composition of the work changed. 

Dance (I) was a study for a work that looks stunningly different despite the nearly unchanged composition.

Once Matisse changed directions, he didn’t bother to fully cover the outlined appendage. He painted over it, but doesn’t seem to mind that you can still see the first draft. 

Given that the work was a study, maybe this really didn’t matter at all. But the fact is that this painting ended up hanging in a prominent museum and it is a favorite work of many of the people who visit. 

At this point in the train of thought, I was tempted to veer towards, you know, masterpiece flaws and all. But, that’s not it. Nor is the lesson here that it’s a masterpiece because of the flaws. We’re not talking about kintsugi either.

Instead, I think it’s nothing more than process. It takes more than one go. That’s how art gets made. No shame in that. So, why cover it up?