The Place For My Writers Notes

Original Posting 13 Nov 2009

Ekphrasis! The poor man was suffering from it, what could be done?

No, this is our word from an article in Writers Digest, February 2005, pages 41 to 43. The title is "The Fine Art of Poetry" by Miriam Sagan. And that odd word ekphrasis (say it five times in a row and it starts to roll trippingly off your tongue, eh?) apparently is an old term for making poetry based on a work of visual art. Sculpture, paintings, I suppose even music videos and advertisements are all fair targets to help you spark your poetry. "It's a time-honored technique of poetry to draw inspiration from other art forms. Often the imagination of another artist can truly fire a poet's desire for expression."

Apparently the term originally referred to the part of a poem that showed us something -- that drew an image. A description of Achilles shield or something like that. However, today it simply means a poem drawn from a particular piece of art -- or about a particular piece of art. There are no fixed formal constraints, and it's up to you as to whether you go to the museum or simply contemplate a reproduction. Nowadays, you might even take a look at Google images or some such digital repository and see what catches your eye there.

Miriam suggests a field trip. Dedicate some time to a poetry field trip. A museum, a park, that funny public sculpture in front of a corporate headquarters or perhaps the art hanging in a shopping mall? Take some time, look around, see the pieces and their setting and the people. Relax, look, let yourself respond and feel. Make some notes.

Next, "enter the scene and describe it." Describe the piece and the setting. Think about the words you're using, the colors, the lighting, the sounds, the smells -- and pick out the parts that really need to be there.

Miriam suggests starting with objective description. Then let your imagination take sway. "What do you imagine about the piece or the artist? Can you place yourself in the scene?" Interlace objective bits, sketching what you see in words, with your own inward description. Spend some time at this -- 20 minutes or so. You may feel as if you reach a natural stopping point. Give yourself a minute or two to make sure.

This is a journey of exploration. Clearly, ekphrasis already has a theme -- the piece of art in front of you. But feel free to welcome unexpected twists. Your poem does not have to be just a word sketch of the painting -- it's a painting, plus you.

There's a sidebar, that gives 12 steps to writing an ekphrasis poem:

1. Select your piece of art.
2. Take plenty of time to be alone with it and absorb it.
3. Draft some notes.
4. Observe color, forms, materials.
5. Notice how it makes you feel.
6. Add some historical or biographical material about the artist if you like.
7. Start drafting the poem.
8. Allow yourself to move back and forth between subjective reactions and objective observations.
9. Step out of the frame of the art if you like and observe the passing scene or your own reaction.
10. If you haven't been writing in lines of poetry, break the prose where you'd naturally take breaths.
11. Let the poem sit and revise it after a few days (but don't edit out the freshness of your initial response).
12. Enjoy -- and remember you can do this whenever you need a little inspiration.

So there you have it. Ekphrasis really isn't something you suffer from, it's just another way of inciting you to poetry with a little dash of art. So go ahead and try it.

Write!

original posting: Tue, 22 Feb 1994 10:24:41 JST

(Since I'm getting newt's responses to Roger's crits that I don't see until later and other strange anachronisms in the flow from writers, I assume there may be some comments on my "definition" out there... but I'm going to add this comment on my own before I get your comments, just for anachronistic completeness...)

Empathy tends to be valued for being the ability or faculty of "bypassing" the normal communication channels and "reading" the other person - to some extent despite what they may be saying. The person who listens to someone order coffee and says, "I see you're upset. Trouble with your S.O.?" and proceeds to ask, comment, and in time help with the hidden fears and problems that others never notice - that's the person with empathy.

I see art as the complement to this. Instead of "reading" the other person, the artist is the one who "writes" (or draws, composes, etc.) onto our lives. The words, the techniques, are the same ones that other people use, but somehow there is more there than the basics. This is the person who in doing their art illuminates parts of our lives that we may never even have seen before.

So, I suppose, I see art as something that comes from the heart and speaks directly to other lives - whether the words are clear and smooth or rough and chosen ill, the artist makes them do more work than one would think possible. Admittedly, I think the artist can improve their work by study and careful use of the technique - but in some ways that isn't really important for them.

(did everyone disappear on a break or something? hiding behind the couch again? you just got back from Christmas/New Year's - how can you have another break so fast? that's okay - you leave the list open, and I'll have fun shadowboxing with myself for a while... just don't turn out the lights on your way out, please?)

I sure am glad I don't have an aesthetic theory to protect - while I like what I'm saying, and believe it, I think it would be an absolute horror to pin down in a philosophical rigorous way...

Original posting: Fri, 11 Feb 1994 12:45:25 JST

(I'm sorry - long and rambling, without all the connections it should have. Put together parts from several files I've started, and haven't boiled down to the pith yet... may be of interest, though... and there's a sort of story at the end if anyone wades that far...)

Hi, apathetic. Interesting tag - you ever consider what the opposite of the pathetic fallacy is? I mean, having the surroundings reflect emotions is a no-no, right? but what's the apathetic fallacy? NOT having the surroundings reflect the emotions? or is it not having the emotions reflect the surroundings? or maybe simply ignoring the subtle interplay of observed surroundings and internal stresses? or perhaps just ignoring the other people around, their influences and interactions with that life claimed as solely one's own, untouched by humanity's dirt and grime, unwashed with the tears one refuses to heed... (whoops - let the fingers get carried away, and they'll take you places you didn't expect... sorry about the slips... Ayn Rand would be very upset with me:-)

oh, well - on to the questions. I know everyone else has taken a whack at them (GREAT STUFF!), but I wanta spend my yen while I can, okay?

so...

- little something, in my opinion, is ART.

backtrack - ART? art? something like the concepts of beauty, art, etc. that I spent semesters in philosophy trying to pin down...?

judging from the experience - you may find a negative definition more helpful than a positive one (mostly because the positive ones are so painfully few and far apart). There are books and papers and stuff on aesthetics - philosophically very shaky ground...

Anyway - could you explain a little what you mean by ART? about the only explanation you give is "a special flair" - which seems subjective and hard to deal with. Any more particulars?

- It seems that most of the people on this board would consider themselves
- writers. Does anyone on this board consider themself an Artist? Does
- anyone on this board professes to have an understanding of what Art is?

certainly. as a matter of fact, I have several understandings of what art is. I even have an understanding of what Art, Beauty, and the Ideal is. I also have a navel. of course, my various understandings may not help you much...

some hints, though...

First, go back and review Randy's posting on TECH: Re: help and some general talk about criticism.

If any of you skipped Randy's posting on 3 Feb - shame on you! go back and read it... I'll wait (randy, I may add that one to the list of good things in the FAQ - or maybe in the one mji is putting together about being blocked - okay?)

I'm waiting...

Good. I'm going to pull some pieces out, but you really owe it to yourself as a writer (even as an Artist!) to read Randy's original posting. BE AWARE THAT I HAVE ONLY CLIPPED SECTIONS - go read the original. (with apologies to lots of folks - especially those who don't approve of humor gilding the lily...:-)

- First, a disclaimer. Revision is the soul of writing. It may also
- be the sole of writing, since it invariably treads on the
- wonderful euphoria your initial inspiration provides. (No, I don't
- feel like a heel for making the joke.)

these boots are made for writing, and that's just what they'll do...
I took the plot less trodden, and that has made all the difference...
walk a mile in your neighbor's moccasins, and hope you don't catch athlete's foot...
you got to walk that lonesome valley, you got to walk it all alone...
don't step on my blue suede shoes...

you don't think I can walk around the world, old man? one step at a time, I can do it. watch me.

stomp out the grapes of write, randy! amen. I say, amen! the wine will flow!

polish them boots, polish the writing, put some spit and polish into it - you think you're still a civilian? I wanta be able to see my face in that boot, boot!

<that "joke" rang so many echoes in here I may have to dig another cavern to put some of them in...>

okay - I got a few thoughts about telling a story that I'd like to interject here.

I've been mulling it over, and I realized that I have been wrong, somewhat, in dismissing the "natural" approach to writing. Dammit, telling a story is the most natural thing anyone can do, and the least natural.

How can it be both?

From the first time you told your mother what the other kid in the playground did, asked for the jello in the refrigerator, or planned an assault up the drawers, across the counter top, and into the cookies - you have been telling stories. Someone asks you "where were you yesterday?" or "did you see the game?" or "what did you want to do about lunch?" - and your storyteller spins a web without any hesitation.

that's the "natural" part.

Selecting, arranging, polishing, and putting the story out in public in a form which makes readers you don't even know sigh over it... That's the "unnatural" part. and it is often where the writer returns to being "blocked."

You probably know the story of the caterpillar? Someone asked him which foot he started on - the poor bug is still standing there, trying to do consciously what used to be an effortless waddle.

Ask a baseball player how they swing, and (most likely) you'll get a fantasy that has little to do with the real muscle flex, back shift, hip twist, half step, lean forward, gum popping action. Worse, trying to turn that fantasy into action on your part is likely to result in a comedy, at best. Sure, you can practice - oh, the half-step - and add it in, make it a part of your game, but the real flowing glory of a whistling bat cracking a fastball into the outfield takes practice and experience, and is the easiest thing in the world - if you don't think about it, just do it.

Stop to think about it, and that fastball is in the catcher's glove. STRIKE!

With writing - you tell a story, letting your storyteller spin out the fragile web as smoothly as possible. Hold your breath and let it go (as Randy said). But, unlike the baseball player, you get to look at what came out. You can break off the odd little crystal that doesn't match in shade (save it for another time!). You can straighten out the strands that aren't quite right. You can even crumple it all up and toss it - hey, selection is part of every art I know. Watch a top potter sometime - all through the process, s/he tosses things. And the final piece looks so effortless...

So you take the swing, then look at where the ball went. Then you do it again, and again, and again... and one day, you hit a home run, and it doesn't feel so unusual.

Step up to the plate and swing.

Strikes, balls, fouls, pop flies, ground balls, bunts - you gotta play to get on base. And you gotta practice to play.

BUT - and it's a big but - you don't think about being a home run hitter. You practice, you listen when the batting coach says to step into the ball, or to drop your shoulder, you do laps (UGH!), and then one day that ball flies. And you grin, and walk around the bases. No sweat, no strain, it just was!

And that's the mark of the pro - the final piece doesn't feel effortful. When someone reads your piece and says, "I've been there." - that's the best accolade. Notice they didn't even say one word about the writing. That's really one of the problems I have with reading the "great masters" as writing models - it is so hard to pay attention to their writing. The story "behind" the words comes out and grabs me, and I forget all about trying to see how they put it together.

<another clip from Randy's post>
- I know that sounds like I'm backing down on the value of revision,
- and maybe I am. But I think, if the piece that was criticized was
- any good to begin with, you'll eventually reevaluate it and come
- back to it. That's when you'll rework it, mold it into a piece that
- comes closer to your ideals than the original did. And that's not
- easy, either, but the finished product will make you prouder than the
- original ever did, with a high that's longer lasting than the high
- from the initial inspiration.

rocky writer's high
inspired to ideals
they panned the gold
from early spewing

rocky writer's high...

<CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP ...>

-How can you let someone else help you write a poem by asking for criticism
-on it? It all seems a little hopeless to me.

-If you are going to write something, write it. And if you don't like it,
-rip it up. Don't post it and hope that someone will help you fix it. That
-amounts to plagarism.

very brief note - editors have been known to suggest changes, as well as performing the heresy of rejecting work. were you planning on publishing? does letting an editor suggest a change make it plagiarism?

when a writer decides to come out into the real world (and I think this is one case where I can use that word accurately), then there are innumerable influences that meld into every artist's work. The selection and "final strokes" are theirs - but to say that they have produced everything in the work by themself, without "standing on the toes of giants" at least, is perhaps a bit exagerrated.

Now, I will grant - actually daring to let someone else look at your work and comment on it is HARD! being enough of an artist to do something with those comments to improve your work (whether that means taking them, trashing them, or doing something else) is HARD! and daring to put your work out there where the common horde will misunderstand it, revile it, and once in a while get it - that's HARD!

sitting in the corner saying I can't let anyone near me because I'm creative is safer. it is also sad.

I've spent time in the corner - not because I was creative, but because I wasn't. Rational, logical, no flair, no talent... but I couldn't leave it alone. and... it really is better outside the corner! there's sunshine, beagle dances, all kinds of good things...

BTW - Herb, excellent post. I did wonder why you skipped the third definition of artist - a professional entertainer. Personally, I think this may be the real key to the ongoing craft/art debate. The writer is an entertainer. When s/he gets paid for it, they are professional (just like the Olympics!). And sometimes, usually without them knowing it, their entertainment slides over into art.

I don't think art is something you try for, or even necessarily recognize yourself. You may be gifted with it, but it isn't something you put in there. You put in the hours of revision, rewriting, practice, and pondering to make it the best you can. That perfect pitch that whistles in and goes flying out into the stands - that's something else. Just be glad when it comes, and ready for it!

As reward for anyone who waded through all this... a little cautionary tale... well, it's non-fiction, but it will have to do while I think up a real story... <wink>

Imagine a painter. She has studied hard, composition, perspective, colors, all the basics, and practiced and practiced. She has spent years, literally, on painting and knows the techniques inside out. Still, something isn't quite right.

One day, while settling down to try again to paint the willow tree her latest teacher has her doing again and again, she looks around and sees an old trashcan, with a mangy alleycat chewing on a fishhead and licking itself, illuminated by a beam of sunlight. She stops, frozen.

She glances back at the willow tree once, then picks up the brush and the oils. She looks at the scene, and at the white canvas, and hesitates. Then she turns her back on the willow.

The brushes move, as she watches, silent, smiling with the buddha that isn't there, somewhere in the back of her head. The cat moves off, and the sunlight fades, but the fingers still touch, lightly, dab here and there. The eyes are half-focused, almost dreaming.

Later, as she wipes at her fingers with the turpentine on a rag, she looks at the canvas. She stops, steps back, and looks again.

If you visit her studio (I have), she has many other paintings now, but that one is hung in a place of honor. There are two oddities about it compared to her other work. First, it is unsigned. Second, although she has had offers for it, she will not sell it.

As she told me, "I can't sign it or sell it. It isn't my work. And I don't know who did it, but I love that piece."

Her hands painted it, her brushes, her oils, her technical skills - but she doesn't consider that one to be her work, although she considers it the best piece in the studio.

I call her an artist.