Osiris and... |
Odysseus both have cameos in the postcard poems. |
Maryland poet Michael Ratcliffe is visiting today to tell us about another postcard poem project. This one was run by the Paris journal Do Not Look at the Sun in 2011. (Mike's poetry blog is here.)
Thanks for visiting Author Amok, Mike!
Paintings, Poems,
and Postcards
My poem “Thoughts
While Viewing Van Gogh’s Fishing Boats on the Beach at Les Saintes Maries de
la Mer” ties in nicely with Laura’s postcard poems project and her discussion
of ekphrastic poems. I wrote the poem for
a friend who, when I mentioned I was going to the Netherlands and planned to
visit the Van Gogh Museum, told me the painting was her favorite.
The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. |
She liked the
rich colors of the fishing boats, and said she felt a sense of sadness when
viewing the painting. So, there I was, in the museum gallery, viewing her
favorite Van Gogh without her. The poem came out of my engagement with the
painting, and wishing my friend was with me to enjoy it. Most of the poem came
to me quickly; the ending took longer to find. After several drafts, it seemed
right to move from viewing the painting to imagining being in the painting, and
to end by asking if she would be in one of the boats sailing away, or standing
with me on the beach.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saintes-Maries_(Van_Gogh_series) |
A month or so after
writing the poem, I ran across the quirky Paris-based journal Do Not Look at the Sun. The theme of the
Spring 2011 issue was “Postcards from Paris,” with poems printed on postcards
and mailed to various addresses around the world.
Until that time, I hadn’t considered
publishing the poem, but the journal’s theme intrigued me, and I had a postcard
of the painting to offer if needed. Why not have a bit of fun when publishing a
poem? The poem was accepted, and copies mailed on postcards to random locations,
including one to my friend.
The message/poem on Mike's postcard. Posted with permission of the author. |
Do
Not Look at the Sun
continues its quirky themes and distribution methods. The Spring 2012 issue’s theme was “Paper
Plane Poems;” my son and I engaged with poetry in a new way by flying paper
plane poems at the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. The video of our flights on You
Tube at http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZfhysBLUxurWNz68w3eJ2w/videos.
The theme of the next issue is
“Stories Sent to Sea.” I have had a poem accepted, but the issue apparently is
delayed. If it does come out, I will be
sending out poems in bottles from undisclosed locations along the Potomac,
Patapsco, or Chesapeake Bay.
And, by the way, my
friend’s response to the poem’s concluding questions was that she was in a boat
on the beach waiting for me.
Thanks for sharing the poem, Mike.
Michael Ratcliffe
is a geographer, who after years of writing memos, academic papers, and Federal Register notices, started
writing poetry again. His poems have appeared in Symmetry Pebbles, Loch Raven Review, Little Patuxent Review, Do Not Look at the Sun, Poetry Quarterly, The
Copperfield Review, Three Line Poetry, Dead Beats Literary Blog,
The Beatnik, and You Are Here:
the Journal of Creative Geography. When he is not writing poetry, he manages geographic programs at the Census
Bureau and teaches population geography at the University of Maryland, Baltimore
County.
I love how the postcard page at Do Not Look at the Sun is set up. If you hover your mouse above a postcard, you can flip between the front (art) and the back (poem). I hope you'll have time to check out the other postcards/poems at the journal's website.
There are many directions one can take with an ekphrastic poem. Some of them are:
- finding a personal connection, as Mike did in “Thoughts While Viewing Van Gogh’s Fishing Boats on the Beach at Les Saintes Maries de la Mer;”
- speaking in the voice of a figure in the image (remember Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George?);
- using the visual elements of the artwork to express emotion.
I took the third approach with Postcard 13. It is a famous image of the painter Georgia O'Keeffe, taken by Alfred Stieglitz. (Find the photograph here.)
As I've mentioned, I have to a tendency to over-do visual images, and this photograph is filled with small details. Composing the poem was a matter of asking myself which details best tell the story, as I see it.
Thinking about Georgia
After
Georgia O’Keeffe, 1918, Alfred Stieglitz
dressed
in his bulky sweater,
thin
cushions at the edge of --
not
really a garden --
more
a bed, leaves
dark
as spades, her skirt
white
as teeth in a face,
she
looks right or
somewhere
else, not at his lens --
a
sketchpad, her boots, a tray
he
takes it all into the frame,
corner
of the house,
watercolor
paints
on
the dirt path beside her
a fluted,
ordinary glass --
already,
the water is muddy
by Laura Shovan
Laura,
ReplyDeleteThanks again for the opportunity to guest blog. I had planned to write poems about other paintings in the museum, but never got round to it. I've still got my notes from the hours spent in the museum. You've inspired me to set sail on that ekphrastic adventure.
Mike
This is a great post, Laura. I'll have to spend some time at Do Not Look at the Sun.
ReplyDeletea fluted, ordinary glass --
already, the water is muddy is a line that tells us what is important to Georgia O'Keeffe--not the photographer, but the work. Nice ending.
I love the idea from the Paris journal, 'Postcards from Paris', and the others like paper airplanes. I have visited our art museums through the years with my poetry group, encouraging them to 'sit inside the painting' to see what might happen in their imaginations. To me, that is what Michael & you both did, adding your own connections to what is shown. Both lovely thoughts of that particular time. Your postcard world is expanding, Laura! Thanks for both.
ReplyDeleteMike, thank *you* for guest posting. It's always fun to feature another poet's voice and creative insights on the blog.
ReplyDeleteDiane -- I like your take on that last line. My mother is an amateur painter (lifelong) and I think it is because of her that I noticed the glass of water, used for cleaning brushes and working with the paints.
Linda, I'm glad to hear that you have a deep love for ekphrastic poetry. Art and poetry in conversation seems to raise up both media.
Great poems, both! And yay Ravens! I thought about you on Sunday :-)
ReplyDelete