"Give beauty and freedom and strength to the children. Give art to the people who need it. Great music should no longer be kept for the delight of a few cultured people, it should be given free to the masses: it is as necessary for them as air and bread, for it is the spiritual wine of humanity" (268).
[The above quote reminded me uncannily of Simone Weil, and yesterday was her birthday.]
No WiFi yet in the new flat and the News is unbearable, so reading has been a solace. I found myself in a terrible mood, so today's remedy was going to the botanic garden with Isadora Duncan. It is difficult to believe that this journey through her autobiography is over, as if a friend moved far away.
Duncan writes with great vivacity and wit, clinging faithfully to her ideal of Art. Although she lived a lavish life in some regards and travelled the globe, she was, throughout almost all chapters of her career, one step away from being penniless. She suffered great tragedy, including the death of all of her beloved children, yet she strove to bring Beauty and Joy to the masses—elevating the modern conception of dance and, as she saw it, freeing the body from the unjust constraints of ballet.
She was distinctly feminist in her worldview and rejected the institution of marriage. She consistently uplifted women and girls through the dance schools she created. Although she became entangled with wealthy lovers on occasion, this direct exposure to the lives of the rich (who, she said, were never happy) gave her a grave distaste for material possessions and led to her later (arguably naïvely optimistic) association with Communism after time spent dancing in the Soviet Union.
There were ways in which I felt connected to Isadora, even encountering the same spots for pivotal life changes and memories: Paris, New York, San Francisco, London, Venice's Lido, Trieste, etc. I even used to ride past the place Duncan once had her Paris dance school, Bellevue, each day on the train.
She refers to falling in love with "genius" wherever it appears and passion as a "shared spiritual flame." Isadora serves as an inspiration for a fellow American paving her own way in Europe roughly one hundred years later. May the adventures and loves be as transformative and alight. <3
I bought a stunning old copy in Edinburgh (une petit cadeau d'anniversaire pour moi), and there is, scrawled in pencil after the last page, a haunting phrase: "life fallen away... like a garment."