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| Éduoard Vuillard, Misia at the Piano, 1995 |
The new word is BEGIN. As in enter, or engage...
So, where did Vouillard begin. And why, perhaps? The scene is dated--but only by the woman's attire. The wallpaper, touch of yellow flowers, missing edges and corners--not to mention those pink touches on her blouse--and the luminous piano--all these are new...
Here's a detail (which we spoke about)--of how he painted her face. Remember, the warm gray interstices are Vuillard's cardboard ground. The medium is oil, overall size about 9 x 10 inches...
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And a poem by C.S. Giscombe with many beginnings (some of them simultaneous):
PRAIRIE STYLE
The direction going out--in the business past direction then and
avoiding love's blunt teeth there. Done with houses and wanting to be
seen as a boundary or as a line of plot re-appearing, done with all that
too. Houses cleave and, to me, it all gets hammered out in overstatement--
love's a terror, a revelation cleaving to contours. Love's a terror,
in town and out of town too.
I was an unqualified marker, some days the ache of an implicit region.
Nothing to the bear but bad hair. Having missed the trace the first time
through I found coming a specificity hard to pronounce: rive of unaccented
speech, a single voice to mark it all off. Well this is namelessness
up here, this inward, and nothing but the curl will do.
Love's over there, to me, the old terror.
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