Ekphrasis – “the poet speaks of art”.
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“the poet speaks of art”
The visual description of art is called ekphrasis; it was created by the ancient Greeks. The goal of this literary form is to make the reader envision the subject described as if it were physically present. In many cases, however, the subject never actually existed, making the ekphrastic description a demonstration of both the creative imagination and the skill of the writer.
HOW ONE ART FORM
TRANSLATES INTO ANOTHER ART FORM
Franklin CarmichaelLawren S. HarrisAlexander Young JacksonFrank H. JohnstonArthur LismerJ.E.H. MacDonaldFrederick H. Varley
& her love of trees.
DONALD FLATHER: Furry Creek
Show Don’t Tell: a descriptive paragraph
WRITE A SHORT 3-5 LINE POEM USING THE IMAGERY IN YOUR DESCRIPTIVE PARAGRAPH.
SHOW DON’T TELL
- A descriptive paragraph
FREE VERSE POETRY
when Icarus fell
it was spring
a farmer was ploughing his field
the whole pageantry of the year was awake
tingling near the edge of the sea
concerned with itself sweating in the sun
that melted the wings' wax. Insignificantly off the coast, there was a splash
this was Icarus drowning
Bruegel’s: Landscape with the fall of Icarus
By Anne Sexton
That does not keep me from having a terrible need of—shall I say the word—religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars.
Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry, starry night! This is how
I want to die.
It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry, starry night! This is how
I want to die:
into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
Starry, starry night, paint your palette blue and greyLook out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soulShadows on the hills, sketch the trees and the daffodilsCatch the breeze and the winter chills, in colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand what you tried to say to meHow you suffered for you sanity How you tried to set them freeThey would not listen they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen nowStarry, starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blazeSwirling clouds in violet haze reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grainWeathered faces lined in pain are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
For they could not love you, but still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight, on that starry, starry nightYou took your life as lovers often do,But I could have told you, Vincent,This world was never meant for one as beautiful as youStarry, starry night, portraits hung in empty hallsFrameless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget.Like the stranger that you've met, the ragged man in ragged clothesThe silver thorn of bloody rose, lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow Now I think I know what you tried to say to meHow you suffered for you sanity How you tried to set them freeThey would not listen they're not listening still Perhaps they never will.
Find and print a work of art that intrigues you.
Bring this to class tomorrow.
WHAT DOES THE WORK MAKE YOU THINK ABOUT. WHAT THEME IS REVEALED.
BRAINSTORM ACTION WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE ARTIST’S METHOD