Ekphrastic Mondays, 2017--#4

This is the fourth and final Monday during National Poetry Month. This year I've been writing poems inspired by the paintings of Nicolas Tarkhoff. Today's painting is "Landscape with Fields under the Sun" (circa 1907).

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

Cher M. Critique

Why do you say the colors
in my work are unnatural?

Where do you think my
paints come from?

Flowers, minerals, vinegar,
insects, eggshells, vulgar
bodily wastes, oils--all have
been found in artists' palettes.

I have merely added my
thoughts, emotions, and,
dreams to the mix.
What is unnatural in that?

Gros bisous,
Nic


A few words about the poem. I don't speak French, however, I do know that the closing to the letter, "gros bisous," is something used in a closing to a casual email--sort of like signing "hugs & kisses." Tarkhoff would never have closed a letter in such a way. However, I do think he was sassy enough to have done so! A not-so-subtle "eff-you" to the critics.

He signed his work "Nic. Tarkhoff," an abbreviation of Nicolas, and so I had him signing "Nic." I don't know if Nic was also his preferred nickname amongst family and friends.

I did a little online research on what was used to pigment paints back before large companies mass-produced them through the magic of chemistry. Way, way, back, urine was used to achieve certain yellows! Other, rather off-putting, ingredients were used in producing colors. Not that I think Tarkhoff's paints were produced with all these ingredients, but, circa 1907, who knows? (Research for another time? Unless you know and would like to tell me in the comments.)

I hope you've enjoyed the four ekphrastic poems this month. If ekphrasis appeals to you, you really should check out Irene Latham's monumental ekphrastic, poem-a-day project ARTSPEAK!: Portraits.

Ekphrastic Mondays, 2017--#3

Today's painting by Nicolas Tarkhoff is "Cat with Child" (1908).

Cats and children are two of Tarkhoff's favored subjects. I find this painting lends itself to cherita from two points of view.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Text:

cleansing

it is a ritual executed
several times a day

lick paw, pass over ears
lick paw, pass over face
lick paw--damn! start again...



black kitty

Mama says, “leave
the kitty alone.”

pretty kitty!
I love you! let me pet
your...ouch! Mama!

Ekphrastic Mondays, 2017--#2

Last week's poem was inspired by a painting that showed none of the details of Nicolas Tarkhoff's works that originally attracted me to him--cats, his family, and the delightful feeling of being at home. Today's picture displays all of it!

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "Madame Tarkhoff, Her Daughter, Pumpkin and Two Cats" by Nicolas Trakhoff, courtesy The Athenaeum.

Text:

My Studio

Maybe it isn't recommended
that one make art at home,
but, what more is needed
than the ever-present chaos
of wife and child, cat, kitten,
beetroot, mangelwurzel,
and pumpkin to inspire?

Color, texture, line, shape,
form, value, and space.
Is it not all here? These
elements, long taught in
academies, are here--
here, where I breathe them.
Where I eat and sleep them.

With the addition of love,
how can I not make art?


More works of the artist:

Ekphrastic Mondays, 2017--#1

Today is the first of four National Poetry Month ekphrastic poems inspired by the art of Nicolas Tarkhoff (1871-1930). Tarkhoff was a Russian artist who spent the second half of his life in France. Surprisingly I didn't find an entry for Tarkhoff in the English language version of Wikipedia. I found a bit at the Association Les Amis de Nicolas Tarkhoff. But, I have resorted to using my poetic license and have imagined a life for the painter based on his art.

I first discovered his work when doing a search on The Athenaeum website looking for pictures of cats. I found that Tarkhoff painted many pictures of his wife and children, cats, and pumpkins. Of the 128 of his works on The Athenaeum site, very few are dark in feeling. His love of family is clearing evident and the fact that he obviously liked cats makes him an artist worth exploring! The pumpkins were a unexpected surprise. (Find a haiku sequence I wrote based on his 1909 painting "Cats by the Window," here.)

Today's picture doesn't include his family, cats, or pumpkins, but is a tribute to one of the features of his adopted city, Paris. I found two pictures on The Athenaeum site. I don't know if one is simply a mistakenly labeled duplicate or if one is an actual physical copy of a previous painting. In any case the one I used is labeled "Chimera of the Notre Dame" (1902). The other is labeled "Gargoyle of Notre-Dame" (1901, also known as Gargoyle of Notre-Dame Portruding [sic] above the Seine). Both are listed as being held by the Musée du Petit Palais, Geneva, which doesn't seem to have a website!

I imagine Tarkoff may have sold his Paris paintings to tourists. I also imagine climbing to the roof of Notre Dame, with art supplies, if only a pencil and sketch pad, would not have been undertaken lightly! (That's probably projecting since I have a healthy fear of heights.) I'm sure Tarkhoff would have preferred painting pictures to please himself, but a man in those days had to make a living for himself and his family.

Click on the image to enlarge. © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. The background photograph circa 1890-1900.

Text:

Gargoyles and Chimeras

We are the fantastic
monsters and men
who are relegated
to role of protector.

Not by choice do we
climb to the heights.
Not by choice do we
swallow our fears.

Our inner fortitude
is only as strong as
our God-given talent,
but love sustains us.

The photo of Notre Dame doesn't give the kind of perilous view I think a gargoyle painter would have been faced with. This one below, circa 1860, gives a view closer to one I imagine.

Photo by Charles Marville. (One of my all-time favorite photographs, by the way.)

The following video gives an idea of the range of Tarkhoff's work. I'll post part 2 next Monday.

Ekphrastic Mondays #4

Welcome to week #4's celebration of Frederick Childe Hassam, ekphrasis, and National Poetry Month!

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "The Table Garden" (1910), oil painting by Frederick Childe Hassam, courtesy The Athenaeum.

Thanks for viewing my 2016 National Poetry Month Monday exercise in ekphrasis!

Ekphrastic Mondays #3

Today's oil painting by Frederick Childe Hassam is titled, "The Sea." At first I found it quite arresting, but the more I looked at it, the more uncomfortable it made me.

"The Sea" (1892), courtesy The Athenaeum.

How Art Works

The artist tempers lugubrious
blues with a zing of tangerine
and leaves the edges of
reality rough like a feral cat.

A cat that is fed only enough
to insure its continuing
assault on a city's rats.

We are discomforted,
yet we can't look away,
so we talk in terms of style
and the theory of color.

And we persist in ignoring
the secondary problem
of the city's dead sparrows.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

I may have gone a bit overboard with the cat simile; it was partly as a result of reading articles on a rat problem in Chicago being kept under control by feral cats. Once I had the simile down on paper it seemed to make perfect sense to me in relation to the painting.

Only one more Monday left in April. Come back for the last in my National Poetry Month 2016 Ekphrastic Mondays series.

Ekphrastic Mondays #2

The second in my NPM 2016 series of ekphrastic poems (art on art) inspired by the work of Frederick Childe Hassam. Click here for the first one.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Oil painting, "Late Afternoon," also know as "Sunset" (1903), courtesy The Athenaeum.

Come back next Monday for another Hassam inspired poem. I'll try to move away from afternoon light paintings. Maybe I'll delve into rain.

Day #4 of the 2016 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem, and, Ekphrastic Mondays #1

A two-fer for today! It's my day to contribute a line to the 2016 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem, the NPM tradition begun by Irene Latham. The poem took off (pun intended) on Friday and here is its progression thus far (contributed by Laura Salas, Joy Acey, Doriane Bennett):

A squall of hawk wings stirs the sky
A hummingbird holds and then hies
If I could fly, I'd choose to be

What a set-up! How could I not continue with the rhyme? So here goes:

A squall of hawk wings stirs the sky
A hummingbird holds and then hies
If I could fly, I'd choose to be
Sailing through a forest of poet-trees

It's now up to Penny Klostermann to take the poem to new heights! Here's the line-up of contributors for the month:

1 Laura at Writing the World for Kids
2 Joy at Joy Acey
3 Doraine at Dori Reads
4 Diane at Random Noodling
5 Penny at A Penny and Her Jots
6 Carol at Beyond Beyond Literacy Link
7 Liz at Elizabeth Steinglass
8 Janet F. at Live Your Poem
9 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche
10 Pat at Writer on a Horse
11 Buffy at Buffy's Blog
12 Michelle at Today's Little Ditty
13 Linda at TeacherDance
14 Jone at Deo Writer
15 Matt at Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme
16 Violet at Violet Nesdoly
17 Kim at Flukeprints
18 Irene at Live Your Poem
19 Charles at Poetry Time
20 Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town
21 Jan at Bookseedstudio
22 Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge
23 Ramona at Pleasures from the Page
24 Amy at The Poem Farm
25 Mark at Jackett Writes
26 Renee at No Water River
27 Mary Lee at Poetrepository
28 Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe
29 Sheila at Sheila Renfro
30 Donna at Mainely Write

The painting, by Frederick Childe Hassam, "Newfields, New Hampshire" (1918), is courtesy The Athenaeum.

This is the first of four April Monday poems about works of art. All the poems have been inspired by the works of a New England impressionist painter, Frederick Childe Hassam (1859-1935). Today's watercolor, "White Barn," was painted by Hassam when he around 23 years of age.

"White Barn" by Frederick Childe Hassam (1882), courtesy The Athenaeum.

The poem didn't start off as a humorous piece. It was quite serious with lines about indecision, and shadows, and essential-ness. I originally was struck by how the white barn was painted without a speck of white on it. I wrote the first poem over the course of two days. I let it sit a while and bingo, the whole thing changed--completely--even the title! I think the only thing that remains is "whitewashed planks." The "off-color joke" is my little pun about the white barn not being white. Come back next Monday for another Hassam-inspired poem.

Ekphrastic Mondays Poem #4

This is the last Monday in this year's National Poetry Month celebration of ekphrastic poetry. I'm concluding with a seasonal poem inspired by the "The Happy Gardener," A painting by Hermann Kern (1838-1912). I love this painting. It is smile-inducing, it is joyous, it is full of hope!

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Painting by Hermann Kern, courtesy The Athenaeum.

Ekphrastic Mondays Poem #3

Welcome to another Ekphrastic Monday! Please click on the link to the painting, "Lady at the Tea Table," by Lilla Cabot Perry, to get a better view.

Click on the image to enlarge. Poem © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Painting by Lilla Cabot Perry (circa 1905), courtesy The Athenaeum. Poster for The Sandow Trocadero Vaudevilles (1894), courtesy Library of Congress.

In the days of traveling circuses, I imagine many people harbored dreams of running away to join the circus! Here is the poem in case you are unable to read it:

Lady at the Tea Table

Between social responsibilities
I train my dog.
Little tricks lead to astounding performances.

We also practice daily at four.

When my plate of shortbread
is empty, my little dog
is further rewarded with kisses.

At five we resume our normal activities.

One day soon I will
take a bow with aplomb,
just as my canine companion does.

We will wait until 7:59, then walk out the door.

Ekphrastic Mondays Poem #2

This is the second in my National Poetry Month 2015 "Ekphrastic Mondays" series. The painting, a fresco, at the Church of Ognissanti in Florence, was painted by Domenico Ghirlandaio in 1480.

Please click on the image to enlarge for easier reading. Poem © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "St. Jerome in His Study" by Domenico Ghirlandaio, courtesy Wikimedia. I used a distressed plaster effect background and I think the photo of the fresco blends in well with it.

I've written about St. Lucy before; click here.

Ekphrastic Mondays Poem #1

It's National Poetry Month 2015 and to celebrate I'm once again, presenting "Ekphrastic Mondays." Each Monday in April I'll be posting an ekphrastic poem (art about art). Today's poem I entered in the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston's "ARTlines2 Poetry Competition." It was a contest I did not win. I was hoping to at least get into the honorable mention category, so that I could get a contributor copy of the contest anthology. No such luck. Ah, well. I still like the poem, so, I'm going to share it with you today, accompanied by this piece from the museum's collection:

"Mademoiselle Boissiere Knitting" by Gustave Caillebotte (1877), courtesy MFAH.

Muffatees and Mitts

A hank of fine wool,
two slender needles,
fingers fully engaged.

Mechanized with the
rhythm, row upon row.

If I closed my eyes I
did not drop a stitch.

"I would recognize the
click of your needles from
our adjoining graves."

How you loved to tease
me all those years ago.

The click remains, but I
can't say the same of you.

Muffatees and mitts,
D’Oyleys and gaiters,
these things never change.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

I imagined the younger Mademoiselle Boissiere had a lover. He made promises to her, but then left her with only memories.

Mitts and muffatees are fingerless gloves (now back in fashion a century and a half latter). D'Oyleys are, of course, doilies. Gaiters cover the ankles and the tops of boots or shoes.

Come back next Monday for a poem about the patron saint of eyeglasses!

Ekphrastic Monday Poem #4

Today is the last Monday of National Poetry Month, and the last ekphrastic poem for April. Thanks for stopping by to read poems inspired by visual art!

I wasn't able to find anything about Kinder und Hund ("Children and Dog"), other than it was painted by Paul Klee and dated 1920. Klee, of German-Swiss descent, wasn't in Paris in 1920, but I took the liberty of setting the family there and of giving the children names, and of course, naming the dog. (I think he looks like a Sandro, don't you?)

You can click on the image to enlarge it, or, the text is below.

Sandro

It would have been easier
to go to the photo studio
near the Galeries Lafayette,
but, no, no, Mama insisted
on a formal, painted,
family portrait. Oncle knew
someone who knew an artist...

Papa, rarely gets what he
wants--he wanted a boy.
He got four girls. The last
he named Georgette, as if
that would make a difference.
And now, Mama, toujours,
toujours, elle a mal à la tête.

Mr. Klee has his work cut out
for him painting the girls.
Suzanne is fourteen. Need
I say more? Look at her: hip
thrust sideways, arms crossed
barely holding in her spite.
Forever rolling her eyes!

Justine, heroine. Always
with her nose in a book.
Always her head in the clouds.
And, Mon Dieu, save us all
from Adélie. "Moi, moi, moi!"
Am I the only one capable of
keeping this family in line?

Stand up straight now and woof!

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Painting by Paul Klee (1920), courtesy The Athenaeum.

Ekphrastic Monday Poem #3

After I finished the first two Ekphrastic Monday poems, I realized they were both about pets, so I decided to maintain the thematic tie.

Click on the image to enlarge. © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "A Funny Parrot" by Philip B. Hahs (1880), courtesy The Athenaeum.

I didn't set out to make the little boy so mean-spirited, but, one so young, who works for a pittance, can't be expected to be always gracious with his thoughts.

Ekphrastic Monday Poem #2

Click on the image to enlarge for easier reading. © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Painting by Childe Hassam courtesy The Athenaeum.

The painting, "The Goldfish Window" by Childe Hassam, is in the collection of Manchester New Hampshire's Currier Museum of Art. It was painted in 1916, a short time before World War I, and at the time when a woman was still dependent upon the goodwill of a father or a husband. Although the woman in the painting appears to be at peace with her surroundings, I have imagined her as being not quite at peace with her position in the social structure.

Ekphrastic Monday Poem #1

Last year, for National Poetry Month, I posted an ekphrastic poem each Monday in April. I decided to celebrate with ekphrasis again this year. Next year, I'll be able to call April's Ekphrastic Mondays an annual event!

I'm going to start with a delightful painting by the Austrian artist, Adolf Humborg (1847 - 1921). It is titled "Feline Companion," and being a huge, cat lover, it spoke to me of the light that a feline friend can bring into one's life.

Click on the image to enlarge for easier reading. © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Painting, courtesy The Athenaeum.

NPM Ekphrastic Poem #5

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "Take One" by Gilbert Gaul courtesy The Athenaeum. Click on image to enlarge.

Although the painting "Take One," by American artist, [William] Gilbert Gaul, painted circa 1881, is full of flowers, the feeling I get from the painting is more dark. I thought perhaps there was a storm coming. I wrote the poem as it appears here, using the title as my launching pad. After I had finished it, I decided to research a little (I know--a backwards way of doing things). I was off from one thing to the next and spent several hours (sort of like I did with last week's ekphrastic poem) skipping around cyberspace.

First I tried to figure out where, and what time of year, the scene took place. Gaul lived in the New York/New Jersey area for a good part of his life, so, that seemed like a good fit. I looked at the flowers pictured. Purple iris blooms in the spring (I have photos of irises that I took in late spring here in NH, so you have to figure they would bloom a few weeks earlier in the NY area). At first I thought the white flowers might be lilacs, since they also bloom around that time. But, I dismissed them, since the white flowerheads shown are more ball-like than lilac flowerheads, and the branches seem to be long and supple. The larger lilacs I've seen have tough, woody branches without much bend to them. So I googled around looking for other round flowers that grow on bushes. Hydrangeas were dismissed--the leaves and branches were all wrong. Then I found the Chinese Snowball, which is a type of Viburnum. A description I found online seemed to fit the bill--blooms in April-May, has round flowers, grows to be a large bush. The most amazing thing I found was this, "The flowers are sterile on the shrub so it won't produce fruit." That made it fit perfectly with what I had written nor are the seeds food.

So, my setting is New Jersey in early May. Then I went looking for weather-related things. I used as a search term, "weather in 1881," and damn if I didn't find a New York Times article from December 31, 1881, titled "The Weather of a Decade: The Temperature of 1881 as Compared With Other Years." And here's the first sentence, "The weather of 1881 has been peculiar..." Peculiar in that there were massive thunderstorms in May? Perhaps...

NPM Ekphrastic Poem #4

Click on the image to make it larger. © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. Painting by Maurice Prendergast (1895) courtesy The Athenaeum.

The artist, Maurice Prendergast was raised near Boston, and many of his works depict Boston area locales. I'm not sure what circus this painting represents, but a quick search showed me that the McCart's Circus was in Boston in December, 1894, and the Ringling Bros. Circus was in Boston in June, 1895. A little more research showed me that a man who had been born in Lowell, MA, George W. Hall, moved to Wisconsin and became a circus owner, his wife and children also were circus people. With George's help, his son Charles, started his own circus, and his sister Jessie's husband, performer Frank McCart, traveled with Charles' circus. Charles' circus also was known as a "Grand Railroad Show." I didn't spend a lot of time looking for an answer to my question, "was the circus that came to Boston in 1894, the Grand Railroad Show?" Anyway, I think it's possible that the circus performers painted by Prendergast were those in the Hall/McCart troupe who had come east to dad's old stomping grounds. Who knows? I didn't use any of this found information in my poem, however, I simply imagined the girl in the tutu had run away with the circus!

NPM Ekphrastic Poem #3

Please click on the image to view it larger.

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "The Flower Arranger" by Mary Bradish Titcomb, courtesy The Athenaeum.

Like Ricky Ricardo, I've got a little 'splainin' to do with this one! First, about the artist: Mary Bradish Titcomb was born 1858 in Windham, NH, the town in which I work. I wrote a profile of Titcomb for Women of the Granite State from Apprentice Shop Books, so I have some information about her. She is a relatively unknown American impressionist, who once sold a painting to President Woodrow Wilson. "Portrait of Geraldine J." still hangs in the Woodrow Wilson House in Washington, D. C.

At age 17, Mary started teaching school in Windham. After her mother died in 1885, Mary moved to the Boston area and taught art and took classes. One of her teachers was the famous painter, Edmund C. Tarbell.

By the time Mary left Windham, she was already considered a spinster, and, she never married. I don't know if she was single by choice or by lack of a suitable soulmate, but, I know she would never have been able to teach, or later paint full-time, if she had married. (Rather surprisingly, it wasn't until the mid-20th century that women in some parts of the country could teach after they married!) I think you can see why I chose the voice I did for "The Arrangement."

Photo courtesy Wildflower Center Slide Library.
Another bit of explanation: Apocynum androsaemifolium is commonly known as Spreading dogbane (and is also known as Bitterroot). It grows in most of the U.S. and is found around here. The reason I chose it is because it has delicate, pale pink flowers and attracts butterflies, but, it's toxic and its fibrous stems can be used to make rope. You could consider it a plant that would harm or tie one down! (Have I ever mentioned HOW MUCH I LOVE THE INTERNET?)

NPM Ekphrastic Poem #2

I don't usually write rhyming poems, and for good reason, I don't do it well, and I don't, except in a children's book, like reading it. That's because of all the bad rhyme that gets published--sing-songy and boring--the direction this poem is heading. Come back next week for a rhyme-free #3. ;-)

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "Zoological Garden I" by August Macke, courtesy The Athenaeum. Click here to see the painting enlarged and to see the parrot's top hat, which probably isn't a top hat.