Edgar Degas, The Dance Class, 1873-76. Musée d'Orsay, Paris.
On April 29, the world celebrates International Dance Day, established in 1982 by the International Dance Committee (CID) within the International Theatre Institute of UNESCO, to honor all forms and cultures of dance. The date is no coincidence—it marks the birthday of Jean-Georges Noverre (1727–1810), the "father of modern ballet" and author of the influential Letters on Dancing (1760).
Each year, choreographers, dancers, schools, and institutions come together to mark this day with events, performances, and reflections. Our celebration begins with the most iconic image in the visual arts dedicated to dance: Edgar Degas’ The Dance Class (1873–1876), housed at the Musée d'Orsay in Paris. It is one of Degas' earliest works focused on ballerinas, the result of three years of study, observation, and preparatory sketches. Set in the dance foyer of the Paris Opéra, the painting captures an apparently spontaneous moment: the renowned choreographer Jules Perrot, baton in hand, instructs a young student, while other dancers rest, adjust their attire, or drift into distraction. Though carefully composed, the scene radiates the immediacy of a snapshot—a masterpiece that reveals both the labor and the everyday beauty of dance.
The composition stands out for its nearly photographic framing, the soft light filtering in from an unseen window, and the exquisite attention to the floorboards—an essential surface for those whose bodies are instruments of expression. Degas doesn’t idealize; he observes reality as if through a keyhole, revealing what the eye misses on stage. A ballerina fanning herself, a small dog at her feet, the visible fatigue of the students—nothing here is theatrical, everything is real.
Vincent van Gogh, Dance Hall in Arles, 1888. Oil on canvas, 65 x 81 cm, Musée d’Orsay, Paris.
Other celebrated masterpieces in art history have captured the magic of dance, each with its own unique sensibility—yet all sharing a desire to freeze the energy, joy, or melancholy that dance carries onto the canvas.
In The Wedding Dance by Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1566), dance becomes both celebration and collective ritual: bodies weave between trees and tents in a popular whirl of rustic joy, steeped in the scent of beer and earth. With El Jaleo (1882), John Singer Sargent plunges us into the visceral intensity of flamenco: a dancer commands the scene among guitars and shadows cast on the walls, everything vibrating with theatrical tension and raw passion.
Van Gogh, in Dance Hall in Arles (1888), offers a vision charged with visual energy: the room is crowded, faces blur, colors pulse like a heartbeat. In Marcelle Lender Dancing the Bolero in Chilpéric (1897), Toulouse-Lautrec takes us behind the curtains of Parisian theatre: here, dance is spectacle and seduction, tinged with irony, color, and decadence.
Then comes the symbolic, inner dance of Edvard Munch, who in The Dance of Life (1899–1900) turns movement into a metaphor for existence: against a lunar sea, three women—youth, passion, solitude—circle the protagonist like apparitions.
Finally, The Dance by Henri Matisse (1910): five nude figures join hands in a primordial circle. Suspended between sky and earth, they embody the absolute freedom of body and spirit—an eternal, sacred gesture of unity.
But to move beyond the familiar canon, it’s worth pausing on a five ancient masterpieces—often overlooked in the narrative of Western art…
Egyptian Wall Painting from the Tomb of Nebamun with a Musician and Dancers, 1370 BC, London: British Museum.
Dancers and Musician – Wall Painting from the Tomb of Nebamun, ca. 1370 BC, British Museum, London
This vibrant scene, part of a fresco from the tomb of Nebamun, provides an extraordinary example of how dance was an integral part of life and spirituality in ancient Egypt. Two young dancers move gracefully alongside a musician playing a double flute, embodying the perfect fusion of gesture and sound.
Executed with the technique of painting on plaster, this composition is emblematic of the Egyptian New Kingdom style: two-dimensional figures, distinct profiles, solid colors, and sharp lines. The bodies are idealized, the movements stylized yet expressive. The two-dimensionality is enhanced by the absence of perspective, while the hierarchy of the figures is dictated by their position and size.
Egyptian painting was based on a rigorous symbolic and functional system. Funeral frescoes were not mere decorations but tools to ensure the deceased a life beyond death, through the depiction of daily activities – such as dances and banquets – that would accompany them in the afterlife.
The colors were derived from natural materials: red ochre for male skin, yellow ochre for female skin, carbon for black, and copper salts for blue and green. Every detail, from clothing to hairstyles, tells of the refinement and social importance of the figures.
This scene, seemingly festive, thus reveals a world where art, dance, and spirituality were deeply intertwined.
Dance Lesson – Attic Red-Figure Hydria, ca. 430 BC, attributed to the Phiale Painter, British Museum, London
Dance Lesson – Attic Red-Figure Hydria, ca. 430 BC, attributed to the Phiale Painter, British Museum, London
This elegant Attic red-figure hydria, originating from Capua and now housed in the British Museum, depicts a scene of dance instruction: two young girls dance under the watchful eyes and guidance of two adult figures, likely a teacher and a flutist, in a setting that harmoniously blends education, art, and ritual.
Attributed to the Phiale Painter, an active master in the mid-fifth century BC, the work is a perfect example of the classical style of Athenian vase painting: well-proportioned bodies, fluid movement, and precise details made possible by the red-figure technique. Here, the black background enhances the brightness of the figures that emerge gracefully and naturally, with fine contours and delicate painterly strokes.
The red-figure technique, developed in Athens around 530 BC, allowed for greater freedom in anatomical rendering and the expression of movement compared to the earlier black-figure technique. In this hydria, the dance is captured in its vital momentum: the two girls in short tunics move in unison, with symmetrical poses that suggest exercise and harmony. The educational element of the scene, likely part of the Greek paideia reserved for young aristocratic women, is reinforced by the presence of the adult figures, who observe and guide.
Tomb of the Dancers – Fresco, 5th century BC, Ruvo di Puglia, National Archaeological Museum of Naples
Tomb of the Dancers – Fresco, 5th century BC, Ruvo di Puglia, National Archaeological Museum of Naples
Among the most fascinating examples of funerary art from Southern Italy, the frescoes from the Tomb of the Dancers provide a unique glimpse into the world of Apulian dance in the 5th century BC. Created on tufa slabs, these paintings once adorned a prestigious tomb, likely belonging to an aristocratic warrior, and are now preserved at the National Archaeological Museum of Naples.
The main scene depicts a long procession of female figures dancing in a line, joined in a fluid and orderly choreography. The dancers, wrapped in vividly colored peplos and cloaks in bright hues (red, blue, yellow), hold not the hands of their nearest companions but those in front or behind, creating a syncopated and harmonious visual rhythm. Some wear red bands that wrap around their heads and chins, others sport earrings. Among them, three male figures appear more dynamic, possibly musicians or ritual guides.
The depicted dance might relate to a funeral rite, a solemn procession, or the geranos, a symbolic dance linked to the myth of Theseus. The strong ritual component is reinforced by the processional composition and the linear expressiveness of the faces and gestures.
Stylistically, the work retains archaic elements, such as two-dimensional rendering and distinct profiles, but is rich in narrative details: garments, hairstyles, footwear, and even expressions. The use of cinnabar and other precious pigments indicates the high status of the patron and the artistic refinement of the painters.
These frescoes not only celebrate the role of dance in life and death but also represent a rare example of the confluence between Hellenic culture and Italic tradition, where art becomes a bridge between gesture, myth, and memory.
Dancers in the Tomb of the Triclinio, 470 BC, National Museum of Tarquinia
Dancers in the Tomb of the Triclinio, 470 BC, National Museum of Tarquinia
Tomb of the Triclinio – Frescoes, ca. 500–475 BC, Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, National Etruscan Museum The Tomb of the Triclinio is one of the most extraordinary examples of Etruscan funerary painting, emblematic of the refined artistic culture of Tarquinia. Discovered in 1830 and dating from between 500 and 475 BC, it is named after the banquet scenes depicted on the walls, where musicians and dancers animate the afterlife with movement, rhythm, and color.
The interior of the tomb features a single rectangular chamber, with frescoed walls that evoke an outdoor banquet: on the back wall, men and women recline on triclinium couches celebrating a feast, while the side walls unfold with scenes of dance and music among trees, birds, and decorative motifs that allude to nature and the joy of living.
Of particular interest is the scene featuring a dancer and a danseuse, captured in a light and coordinated step: their gestures are broad, expressive, and their garments flutter as they move. The painter, likely trained in the Greek style, demonstrates extraordinary sensitivity in depicting anatomy and the dynamics of movement, through fluid lines and intense colors that remain strikingly vibrant today.
Here, the dance holds a deeply symbolic value: it is not merely entertainment, but an expression of a serene existence after death, a typical view of the Etruscan world. The dance gesture is a celebration, a remembrance, and continuity, while the music and banquet evoke a joyful and shared eternity.
The Greek influence is apparent in the composition, costumes, and pictorial style, but the view of life and death is profoundly Etruscan. Thus, the Tomb of the Triclinio merges formal elegance and spirituality, narrating with lightness and grace the dance as a bridge between two worlds.
Cymbals Player, 1st Century BC – Fresco, Pompeii: Villa of the Mysteries
Cymbals Player, 1st Century BC – Fresco, Pompeii: Villa of the Mysteries
In one of the most famous frescoes from the Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii, a young female figure dances gracefully and solemnly while holding cymbals. This scene is the final part of the elaborate fresco cycle that decorates the villa’s triclinium: a Dionysian ritual culminating in the symbolic and spiritual liberation of the initiate.
The dancer, likely a maenad, represents the concluding moment of initiation, when the adept—now transformed—celebrates her mystical union with the god through dance and music. Her body is captured mid-movement, draped in flowing fabric that follows the twist of her torso, creating a vibrant and dynamic image that breaks the fresco’s static surface.
Executed using the megalographia technique, the work features life-sized figures against a Pompeian red background—a color rich in ritual and symbolic meaning. It is an exceptional example of the Second Pompeian Style, where architectural space is suggested through painting to add depth and dramatic intensity.
In one of the most famous frescoes from the Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii, a young female figure dances gracefully and solemnly while holding cymbals. This scene is the final part of the elaborate fresco cycle that decorates the villa’s triclinium: a Dionysian ritual culminating in the symbolic and spiritual liberation of the initiate.
The dancer, likely a maenad, represents the concluding moment of initiation, when the adept—now transformed—celebrates her mystical union with the god through dance and music. Her body is captured mid-movement, draped in flowing fabric that follows the twist of her torso, creating a vibrant and dynamic image that breaks the fresco’s static surface.
Executed using the megalographia technique, the work features life-sized figures against a Pompeian red background—a color rich in ritual and symbolic meaning. It is an exceptional example of the Second Pompeian Style, where architectural space is suggested through painting to add depth and dramatic intensity.
Olimpia Gaia Martinelli