Saturday, April 28, 2012

Ekphrasis

He made the earth upon it, and the sky, and the sea's water,
and the tireless sun, and the moon waxing into her fullness,
and on it all the constellations that festoon the heavens,
the Pleiades and the Hyades and the strength of Orion
and the Bear, whom men give also the name of the Wagon,
who turns about in a fixed place and looks at Orion
and she alone is never plunged in the wash of the Ocean. 
(Description of Achilles' shield from The Iliad, 483-489)

I saw this on my way home from writing this blog post at a cafe! Chillin on a street corner. Certainly a sign...
Ekphrasis. Sounds sinister. Like in the medical, hesitate to Google it kind of way. “But really it’s creative alchemy,” Caleb, the Classics PhD student, assured us. “It’s a dramatic description of art in a piece of literature.” We were circled around him story-hour-style. The MIMA space had been emptied of furniture, musical equipment, my paintings and the surprising number of lambskins that usually adorn its surfaces to make way for an incoming Pratt show. Only a handful of essential instruments and a lone painting, too big to shove into my car, were left standing.

When a work of art is described through another medium, it morphs and becomes a new piece of art in this form. Ekphrasis isn’t about exhaustively cataloguing the parts. It’s about translating the impact. One early, powerful example of this is the description of Achilles’ shield in the Iliad. The shield is hewn by the god Hephaestus after Achilles’ original armor is stolen by the Trojans and the death of his friend throws him into a state of mad bloodlust. The description of the shield’s concentric rings of imagery is epic, encompassing all of the senses. Within the bold, detailed metalwork, lutes and lyres provide a dynamic soundtrack; reeds sway in windy marshes; characters argue and marry, dance and chop each other to bits on the battlefield.

These stood their ground and fought a battle by the banks of the river,
and they were making casts at each other with their spears bronze-headed;
and Hate was there with Confusion among them, and Death the destructive;
she was holding a live man with a new wound, and another
one unhurt, and dragged a dead man by the feet through the carnage.
The clothing upon her shoulders showed strong red with the men's blood. (433-438)

These pictures are navigated much like a god from on high might effortlessly zoom in and out of the worlds below, moving close in to see a maiden collecting flowers for a festival and then zooming out for a panoramic view of the cosmos. Scholars and artists have tried to map out the shield of Achilles and, although there have been many interpretations, the scenes depicted within resist being frozen in a 2-D plane by mortal hands. Words are necessary to communicate the magic of an object made by the blacksmith of the gods.


Then Caleb announced that this week our song-writing workshop would stem from my painting. (The one left standing. Which was fitting because the painting is from my Outpost series and is about the last remaining thing in an environment hell-bent on tearing it down.) It would be our own “visual to musical” version of ekphrasis. We started by asking questions about the painting. Just questions, no answers. “Is it being built or falling apart?” “Is there any way out or in?” “What’s making the light?” “Who lives there?” “Are they happy?”


'Honey I'm home,' she said. The wind turned its mouth up at the corners.
This won’t surprise any recent MFA graduates, but these are not the questions that artists get asked in an academic or critical setting. More often you will hear, “How are the derivative, impressionistic marks in the bottom left corner detracting from the formalistic unity?” But these were refreshing inquiries and way more representative of the way I talk to myself about the things that I make. Then, each of the musicians came up with a phrase associated with the piece, set it to music and played it for the group. With all these melodic fragments floating around in our heads, we began to play, improvise together, build something in the spirit of the thing.

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