Contrary Visions (eBook)

Contents 10
Acknowledgments 12
Preface 14
I. Contrary Visions 18
Contrary Visions in the Gallery, White on White 20
Donna Bruna 22
From the Cloister, Saint-Rémy 24
Crows over the Fields of Auvers 26
Nude Descending in All Directions 28
Painting Poppies near Arles 30
In the Bois de Vincennes, Paris 32
Other Possibilities 33
Coventry Cathedral 35
The Replica 37
The Mathematical Bridge, Cambridge 39
Touching a Stained-Glass Window in Gloucester Cathedral 41
The Peasant Woman above Tarifa 43
From a Café Window, Tangier 45
20th Century Studio Scene 47
Lately I Have Been Too Wrapped Up 48
II. Rituals 50
Rituals 52
The Enchantress 54
Fire 55
The Waters of Bath 57
In the Hills of Les Baux 59
Earth Mothers 61
In the Plaza of America, Seville 63
Spell of Moon and Maple 65
A Deaf Woman Longs to Be among the Waters 67
Take This on Authority 69
III. Gifts 70
Baiting My Hook, I Try Again 72
Apples 74
The Aura 76
The Crèche Dolls 77
What You Hear in a Studio 79
To Walk Out on Three Musicians 80
Forgive Me, But This Is Just a Smear of Purple 82
Dream: Catching the Air 84
The Blind Woman, 1967 87
The Concertos 89
Touch 91
A Former Teacher Said It Is Not Easy 92
Proctoscopic Humiliation 94
At the Lawn Party 96
Music of the Hands 98
Sam's Accident 99
For a Franciscan Brother 101
I Don't Know Why I Wake Up Angry 104
Homeless on Independence Avenue 106
The Visiting Poet, Washington, D.C. 108
The Tidal Basin Holds Time Still 110
Gifts 112
Mountains 114

Contrary Visions in thé Gallery, White on White (p. 3)

. . . just a white surface that is simply a white surface and nothing else.

Piero Manzoni

The child in thé paisley frock remembers

thé terrible storm, how her father saved

her, how suddenly thé white winds came.

Stepping forward, she folds her hands

intently into a gesture of peace

like thé dove, before her, darkening

thé surface halfway across thé canvas.

Beside her, two mystics vow

this is not thé coming of light

or white blossoms at thé hands of God,

but a cérémonial stone that brings calm

to any man, if only he will embrace it.

Whereas thé artist intended nothing

of this, no more than a white surface,

thé lilies I remember turn back years,

and I am a small child again,

comprehending thé emptiness of white

offerings, their incantations cold

beside thé burial ground. I am moved

by this stillness, by thé beguiling white

canvas holding just enough light

to enfold this darkness, this grief.

Donna Bruna

—after Leonardo da Vinci`s Mono Usa, 1503-05

The enigma seems tied in with thé landscape behind her.

What is your secret, donna bruna?

The countryside pulls greens of a lake

into thé corners of your mouth.

The light hovers there, and it matters

that thé road behind you spirals,

tapers off toward thé west,

that a bridge softens curiously

against thé deep curve of your back.

How calmly you accept this condition,

one hand crossing thé other, light caught

forever in thé folds of skin, caught

in thé lunar précipices beyond.

The air clouds with mist,

and thé landscape changes

to Florentine streets

where a woman smiles desperately,

radiant créature locked in a pose,

thé artist painting

at thé end of a road.

Femina scura, he should let you go.

The light vanishes from skies.

Your eyes fill with years.

Four centuries, and your eyes,

donna bruna, as intense

as thé day thé artist leaned

you against thé studio wall,

your shadow cast upon thé floor.

He should let you go.

Already, fog crosses thé lake,

rising toward thé veiled sky,

toward a woman running

over luminous hills

where thé wind passes over

like a crazed bird, calling

no need, no need to turn back now.

From thé Cloister, Saint Rémy

On/y when I am working in front of my easeî do I still feel some life . . . .

Vincent Van Gogh, Saint-Rémy asy/um

. . . Their letters and gifts

are treacherous signs.