Ragghianti, Manzù and the Dancer

(Dance step, 1961)

From the correspondence Ragghianti-Manzù - that I consulted to answer a scholar's question - I extracted Ragghianti's letter to the sculptor of May 1st, 1964 because mentioning a "dance step" of the Master, which seemed to be referring to the Dancer given as a gift by the artist to the art historian. 

It was actually referring to another sculpture, but this research reminded me of a piece I wrote for "SeleArte" (IV series, n.24) published in 2003. The late president of the florentine antique dealers, 

In the cover picture we see Carlo L. Ragghianti while he’s illustrating the acephalus nude that Giacomo Manzu’ gave him as a gift on the occasion of his first visit at the home studio in Ardea, where the sculptur had recently and permanently moved. This is one of the few documents where it’s possible to find the critic directly involved in the analysis of an artwork. Unfortunately only writers, the esteemed ones, are able to recreate the description of accurate and relevant gesturing, which would get permanently lost if not impressed on images (static or in movement) that connote the physicality of people.

Of many, too many artists (and also of critics and fine personalities, if they really are so) we have no knowledge – or we have only an indirect and superficial one – concerning their way of working, of approaching the object of their high esteem.

I’ve seen, for instance, many photographies of Morandi that were suggestive, evocative, trustworthy in depicting the character, but I’ve always seen those frames detached from their peculiar intimacy with the real work: regarding the Bolognese Master’s work, I can remember only the capturing description left by Ragghianti. Of him, my father, I still have vivid memories, though at the moment I’m not able to define them in terms suggestive enough for others. Let’s hope, therefore, someone will succeed in doing so, but let it be done soon since Ragghianti died ten years ago already and all the witnesses of his presence in the world who are still alive, are ten years older themselves.

Memorable, going back to our Dancer, is the story related by Ragghianti of the reason why Manzu’ operated the beheading. “ A masterpiece, only just a bit heavy on the upper part” as to “ constrict the shining levitation of the dancer” was the critic’s quiet observation when their scrupulous inquisition came to this statue. The artist agreed ( he had evidently heard what he wanted to be told ), calm and not at all resentful or shocked for benevolent criticism interspersed with competent appreciation of Ragghianti, highly regarded and gratefully accepted at least at that time.

Since it’s not possible to admire the whole studio of a great artist like Manzu’ only in one round – I myself when years later went to visit his Museum together with Pananti, meanwhile set, came out distraught and almost caught 

For further pictures of the Dancer, see the related italian post "Ragghianti, Manzù e la Ballerina" and for the only existing pictures of the sculpture before the intervention of the artist, refer to the post "Una visita a Manzù" (italian only), published in this blog on March 15th, 2019.

Giovanni Pratesi, asked if he could display the Dancer in his booth at the laudable and famous International Market-Exhibition of Antiques in Florence, among some of his qualified sculptures. As he asked about the information for the catalogue, I also handed over to him also the text published in "SeleArte". Apparently he liked it enough to realize a specific booklet. I therefore think it would be appropriate and enjoyable to open this blog reviving the brochure, here translated in English by Irene Marziali Francis.

by a “Stendhal syndrome” attack – Ragghianti took an appointment to return the following day so as to finish the review of the most recent works of the artist. 

When my father arrived in the late morning from Rome where he had stayed the night before, he found Manzu’ that was busy working as always and specifically drawing, I can’t remember if on a piece of paper or an engraving plate. After the inevitable greetings and the review of different artworks, the Master gracefully took his friend by an elbow and brought him to a secluded corner of the studio where the Dancer dominated the scene, finally freed by the “angle grinder” of her head and arms woven together over the head itself, now finally standing out in all her irrepressible magnificence.

“Now it’s good” said Manzu’, frugal with words as usual, and the admiring critic couldn’t but express his daze for the courage the artist had shown intervening on his already defined creature with such drastic simplicity, which completed the artwork and fulfills it in her totality. Ragghianti then complimented the artist for the perfect expressive rendering of the cuts, operated in such a manner as to conclude the towering figure of the Dancer like a Greek temple tympanum.

The critic had evidently caught the absolutely non-random expressive intention of the perfectionist operation carried out by Manzu’, whom grateful and appreciative, with the impulse of a handshake almost hug, murmured: “ Dear Ragghianti, it’s yours!”

He must have been really impressed in his hearts and lungs, moved since the leathery Master from Bergamo was an unpleasant character, very introverted and closed as far as emotional impulses; he was far from easily and spontaneously prone to gifts.

Very amusing, although of no “artistic” value, was the story Ragghianti related of the journey in a taxi from Ardea to Roma at the Minerva Hotel to stay overnight, and then from there to Termini Station, subsequently to Santa Maria Novella in Florence and finally from there to Villa La Costa. This whole peregrination carrying by himself, except from spontaneous and entertained helpers, the bulky bronze and naked lady, since she hadn’t even been protected with some sort of packaging like the air bubble wrap, after all not invented yet.

Francesco Ragghianti