Knowledge Network Friday, May 30 2008 

I will be presenting a one-night, introductory poetry writing class at the local Knowledge Network adult ed facility this coming Tuesday, June 3rd, from 6:30 to 9 pm. There is a fee.

One of the techniques I teach in this class for starting a poem is ekphrastic: writing about a picture which I provide to the participants. Here’s a longer description of my “Surprise of Poetry” class.


You can register by calling Knowledge Network at 518-452-2675. Or you can register on the Knowledge Network website.

Gestures Thursday, May 29 2008 

This week I’ve been writing and revising a poem about a gesture that some artists make when painting: they hold out their thumb to measure, proportionately, whatever object in the distance is the subject of their painting. After several revisions, my poem now has thirteen lines and is entitled “The Measure.” The first line is, “An artist is measuring with his right thumb.” In the poem, a small girl is watching. The scene is based on my childhood memory of watching my own father (a commercial artist) as he painted.

I’ve been wanting to write such a poem ever since I read a beautiful poem by Eavan Boland entitled “The Last Discipline.” Ms. Boland’s mother was, in fact, an accomplished Irish artist. The poem recalls a moment from Ms. Boland’s childhood as she watches her mother at the end of a day spent painting: the mother turns her back to the canvas, then looks at it in reverse with the aid of a hand mirror.

What other gestures are common among artists?

Braque, Cezanne, Pissarro, Van Gogh Tuesday, May 27 2008 

When you see the phrase “still life,” what comes to your mind? Now that I’ve read the very engaging and inventive poems in Matthew Hittinger’s chapbook Pear Slip, I think primarily of pears. This award-winning chapbook (Spire Press, 2007) compiles eight poems, plus a preface entitled “Pear Poetics,” which consider pears from several angles: as a subject of art (oil painting, drawing, watercolor); as a canned or crated commodity; as the often-neglected cousin of the apple; and as an embodiment of the shapely forms of his own poems as they peel down a page. His individual poems are linked not only thematically, but also linguistically. Mr. Hittinger plays with the various homophones and translations of the noun “pear”: to “pare” a piece of fruit; pome (French or Latin for the pear-like “apple” and also a homophone for “poem”); and a “pair” of lovers.

Some aspects of the poet’s ekphrasis are unique; at least, I’ve seen them in no other ekphrastic poem. First, one of his poems responds to the digital wallpaper on a laptop display, an image which he describes as “a stolen painting by Braque.” Secondly, another of his poems responds to the “Untitled” assignation of a painting in a museum.

The blurb on the back cover praises the chapbook as “a fertile concoction. . .wonderful. . .a sustained and disciplined act of fancy” (Linda Gregerson). I agree entirely.

The works of art which inspired the poems in this collection are:

BRAQUE, Georges. Fruit Dish (oil painting)

CEZANNE, Paul. Trois Poires (watercolor and pencil work); and Pots of Flowers and Pears (oil painting)

PISSARRO, Camille. Still Life: Apples and Pears in a Round Basket (oil painting)

VAN GOGH, Vincent. Still Life with Grapes, Pears and Lemons; and Still Life with Grapes, Apples, Pear and Lemons; and Still Life with Pears (all oil paintings)

Memorial Day Friday, May 23 2008 

For all the men and women whom we honor on this Memorial Day weekend:

Yusef Komunyaaka’s poem “Facing It” inspired by The Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall.

Ekphrastic Expressions Wednesday, May 21 2008 

Check out this website of a collaborating poet and painter–

Ekphrastic Expressions

Paul Cezanne Tuesday, May 20 2008 

For centuries, painters and poets have been discussing the relationship between form and content, and have been comparing their respective arts. One of Western civilization’s earliest recorded statements about the correspondences between painting and poetry is the verse epistle entitled “The Art of Poetry” by the Roman poet Horace.

Now, contemporary poet Linda Pastan weighs in on those interwoven issues (form, content, and ekphrasis) with her recent ekphrastic poem, “Three Skulls on an Oriental Rug: Cezanne, Oil on Canvas.” (Several of Ms. Pastan’s other ekphrastic poems appear in her collection Carnival Evening.)

The speaker of this poem, a woman at an art museum, has been instructed to consider the painting’s “marriage / of form and color to create / a design” and to ignore its representational content, its three skulls. But she resists, averring that “To leach the personal / from the abstract / is a different kind of death.” How can a human being see three skulls in a painting and NOT think of death, or of one’s own death? How can a human being NOT wonder, sympathetically, about the bygone people to whom the skulls once belonged?

Pastan’s poem is not a refutation of every aspect of form: indeed, she takes great care with the form of her own poem, structuring each of the eight stanzas in three lines, and composing many musical phrases within those lines. The poem’s title is also carefully formalized, juxtaposing both aspects of the painting under consideration: its ostensible content (”Three Skulls on an Oriental Rug”) as well as its materiality (”Oil on Canvas”).

But the poem’s imaginative artistry is as skillful, if not more so, than its formal properties. In fact, that imaginative artistry is so great that it surpasses both perception (direct observation of the skulls) and intellectuality (critical dissection). The poem not only sees the skulls for what they are, but also brings those skulls back to life. In the last stanza of her poem, Ms. Pastan’s use of the single personifying word “bleeding” amidst a clot of critical jargon (”three ovoid objects”) demonstrates that the figurative impulses of our human minds are nearly irrepressible. Yes, we are creatures of sensation and perception and reason; but equally importantly, we are metaphor-making creatures. We bring things back to life, back into our own lives.

So if you’re teaching a class on ekphrasis, you might want to include this poem in your list of required reading. Right alongside Horace.

(Ms. Pastan’s poem is published in the current issue of Five Points.)

Joseph Cornell Monday, May 19 2008 

I’ve been reading two books about the assemblage artist Joseph Cornell: Jonathan Safran Foer’s A Convergence of Birds, an anthology of poetry and fiction inspired by Cornell’s series of bird-related boxes; and Charles Simic’s Dime-Store Alchemy, a collection of sixty short pieces (poetic prose) which encapsulate many different aspects of Cornell’s life and work.

Both books are labors of love, homages to a talented but reclusive man who, like Emily Dickinson, created astonishing, original art from within the restricted circumference of his life. And both books are beautifully made, incorporating color reproductions of several of Cornell’s boxes.

The two poems which have provided models for my own poem about Cornell are from the Foer anthology: “Nine Boxes” by Siri Hustvedt and “Song” by Robert Pinsky. “Nine Boxes” is a poem of nine parts, each with ten lines, and each describing a different box. “Song” is a three-stanza rimas-dissolutas (abcde, abcde, abcde) inspired by “the parrot / Art, mortal in its cornered sphere.”

After reading these two books, I’m convinced that many more poems about Cornell could be written. One poem per box. Let’s all get going. I’ve already started my poem, entitled “Ballerina To Joseph Cornell.” The first line is “Seven encores last night…”

(A fine essay by Debra Allbery which discusses how Emily Dickinson influenced Joseph Cornell, and how Joseph Cornell influenced Charles Simic, can be found HERE. And poet Alan Catlin considers Cornell in his collection Self-Portrait as the Artist Afraid of His Self-Portrait.)

Claude Monet Thursday, May 15 2008 

Yesterday I heard some good news from my doctor: I don’t have cancer. But during the two weeks between my biopsy and my clean bill-of-health, I felt immobilized and shrunken. I imagined what it would be like to fade away from life over a period of months or even years.

And, for whatever reason, I thought of the extraordinary painting by Monet which I saw last year in the Musee d’Orsay: Camille Monet sur son lit de mort (translation: Madame Monet on Her Deathbed). Then I recalled a poem which had hit me hard several months ago, a poem in a book shipped to me from The Academy of American Poets: Half Wild by Mary Rose O’Reilly. Ms. O’Reilly’s poem is “Portrait of Madame Monet on Her Deathbed.” The poem’s epigraph is a quotation from Claude Monet’s journal: “All the while she was dying, I could not stop painting her face.”

Is it monstrous for an artist to make art out of the suffering of a loved one? Perhaps. But I realized that if I had been diagnosed with cancer, I might have written poems about my own medical ordeals, or about my family’s difficulties. I realized that I have already written poems about the suffering of my own deceased father, ill for many years.

In fact, today I may just write a poem about that same Monet painting, a poem in the voice of Camille. I (almost) know how she feels.

(Another poem about the same painting, “Camille Monet on Her Deathbed” by Basil King, appears in that poet’s ekphrastic collection entitled 77 Beasts.)

Tattoo Highway Tuesday, May 13 2008 

Tattoo Highway is sponsoring a contest:  write a short poem about THIS IMAGE

Free Idea Factory Monday, May 12 2008 

This notice (dated May 10) on the recently-launched  Free Idea Factory: a proposal to start a new blog or e-journal which features innovative texts inspired by different kinds of images.

Next Page »