The author is a professor of literature in Montreal, editor-in-chief of the journal Argument and essayist. He notably published These words that think for us (Liber, 2017) and contributed to the collective work edited by R. Antonius and N. Baillargeon Identity, “race”, freedom of expressionwhich has just been published by PUL
We recently learned that the National Gallery in London had just renamed Ukrainian dancers a pastel by Edgar Degas hitherto titled Russian dancers. This change of name was made at the request of a Ukrainian woman living in London who had challenged the famous museum on this subject, stating in particular on Instagram that the dancers drawn by the impressionist painter were “not Russian and do not[avaient] never been”, while specifying shortly after that the Russians “appropriated and still appropriate many elements of Ukrainian culture”.
After the title of the drawing had been changed, she clarified her thoughts as follows: “It is important to find our cultural heritage and to name it correctly. »
After many others, this case of renamed pastel is symptomatic of the confusion that currently reigns in the field of arts and culture.
First of all, to imply that this work is an integral part of Ukraine’s “heritage” and that it has been the subject of “cultural appropriation” by Russia is an astonishing assertion to say the least. . This sketch by Degas does not in fact belong either to Ukrainian culture or to Russian culture. Because it is obviously not the subject of a pictorial work that defines it, even less that signs its belonging to a national culture.
Yes Russian dancers Where Ukrainian dancers by Edgar Degas belongs to a heritage and is part of a national culture, it is of course to those of France at the end of the 19th century, within which this work is part of the current of Impressionism.
One can of course understand that a Ukrainian woman visiting this museum is shocked to see these dancers whom she supposes her compatriots described as “Russian” in the title of a painting.
Faced with the spectacle of her country devastated by bombs, it is quite normal that national passions are at home on edge. It is less understandable, however, that the curators of one of the largest art museums in the world are swimming in the same confusion when they agree to comply with this request for a change of title. As stated at To have to professor in the Department of Art History at UQAM Marie Fraser, it is “a way” for them “to position themselves politically in relation to the war”.
But is it justified that they thus abdicate their function as art specialists in favor of a new role of political commissars or agents for the celebration of the causes of the moment?
This pastel indeed belongs to a series of sketches made on the same theme by the famous painter. And if we decide to rename one of them, on the pretext that it is “virtually certain that these dancers are Ukrainian rather than Russian”, as the National Gallery will say to justify itself (among other things because the said dancers wear in their hair with ribbons in the colors of the Ukrainian flag), we thereby break a series certainly intended by the visual artist by introducing into it a distinction which he had probably not thought of, and which perhaps would not have seemed relevant to him. We thus insert into the history of painting, of which a museum is above all supposed to give an idea, contemporary political considerations which should not really have their place.
Anachronisms
Beyond this politicization of art which may seem harmful in itself, this change of title is also symbolic of the somewhat problematic relationship that our institutions now have with the past.
Because, think about it for a moment: this Degas pastel was probably made in 1899, at a time when Ukraine did not exist as an independent state, but was an integral part of the Russian Empire.
Technically, as probably in the eyes of the painter, these dancers who served as his model were therefore as Russian as, for example, Jonathan Swift was English, even if he was born and lived in an Ireland which is now independent.
Considering these Degas dancers as Ukrainians therefore amounts to committing an anachronism. In the same way, will Nicolas Gogol (born in what was then called Little Russia) or Isaac Babel (a Jew from Odessa) be made posthumous Ukrainians – and will we consequently blame Russia to have “appropriated” these two writers? — when both chose to write in Russian, if not all, at least most of their work and lived most of their lives in Russia?
What these last examples imply is that these anachronisms which are proliferating today in museums, where there is a strong desire to purify the titles of works according to current language standards, do not constitute something harmless.
By subjecting the past and its works to present reality, they help to rewrite history in such a way as to make people believe that the past has always been a reflection of our present.
Consequently, the past is denied its own existence and the reality that was its own. Such a refusal also has the consequence of denying our present as present, that is, of disavowing its fatally transitory character in order to place it under the auspices of eternity. It is an illusion shared by people of all ages. And in any case, the future quickly took care of undeceiving them.