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| Claude Monet 1840-1926 |
I confess, when I went to Paris to live there in my teen years, I didn't know a lot about art. I loved it though, and something about it resonated with me on a basic and intrinsic level. Almost instinctually, I knew what I liked, and what I didn't like. Often, this response was much different or even opposite of looking at an art book in school.
While in Paris, I fell in love with Claude Monet. I'll never forget the day I saw one of his paintings at the Jeu de Paume in Paris. I stopped in my tracks and was struck with awe. I think I sat in front of one of his famous japanese footbridge and water lily kind of paintings for three-four hours. That really short changed my time for the rest of my visit!
Later, of course, I learned that he was the cornerstone artist of the Impressionist movement. My response to it was so abrupt because the impressionists were masters at capturing light, or a response to light in a profound way. They illuminated that first impression your eye thinks it sees without altering the way that they wish it would be, or the way it is in the concrete world.
Naturally, when my poetry teacher said to write a ekphrastic poem, I deliberately looked for a painting from my beloved Claude Monet. I hope my interpretation makes legacy more vivid.
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| The Magpie, Winter 1868-1869 |
Magpie by
Claude Monet
In the cool.
Crisp morning air
I saw a magpie
sitting there
While drinking
my morning coffee, he
Seemed to be
singing just for me
Not on a ledge,
nor in a tree
Across the yard,
on top ladder stair
His proud song
carries across the wintry air
The golden hue
of morning light
A crescendo of
cream, gold, and white
Creating linear
shadows there
From trunks to
trees, to magpie’s stare
All lines
leading magpie to me
Though shadows
are merely void of light
Their contrast
is to our delight
So, please
magpie, call with your trill
The cacophony of
senses is my thrill
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