Showing posts with label Shanti Arts LLC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shanti Arts LLC. Show all posts

Friday, October 3, 2025

Daniel Barbiero : Kaaterskill Clove, by Joseph Stanton

Kaaterskill Clove, Joseph Stanton
Shanti Arts Press, 2025

 

 

 

Early nineteenth century North America knew itself – through its writers and artists, as well as outside observers – as a thinly-inhabited land, part pristine Eden and part desolate wilderness. Of all the artists whose images contributed to this perception, arguably none made as deep or as lasting an impression as the Hudson River School painters. Their landscapes, mainly of the Northeastern American mountains and forests, depicted a natural environment of expansive scale and emotional force. In Kaaterskill Clove, his new collection of ekphrastic poems, Joseph Stanton writes in response to their work and shows what it still can mean to us, nearly two hundred years after it was created.

At the time they were created, the landscapes of Thomas Cole, Frederic Edwin Church, Sanford Robinson Gifford, Albert Bierstadt, Asher B. Durand and others were bound up with the idea that the grand scale and sweep of the rugged American landscape would give rise to a particularly American style of art. Although critic Benjamin T. Spencer would describe this a century later as a “topographical fallacy,” it nevertheless is true that the Hudson River painters attempted to address something deeper than the stylistic possibilities then thought to be open to American artists. Their vision, essentially Romantic, was of a vast and partly untamed land in which the human presence takes an ambiguous place both at home in and transcended by the powerful forces of nature.

It is just this complex relationship of the human to the natural that Stanton focuses on in many of his poems. Here, for example, is the beginning of his poem about Thomas Cole’s 1838 View on the Catskill, Early Autumn:

Cole loved this hillside overlooking a creek
a picnic spot, a short walk from his home.
He shows his wife and child at play…

Stanton describes a scene of domestic idyll, of Cole’s wife and child playing in a sunlit clearing by the water: nature in its benign form. But there’s more to it than that. Looking more closely at the painting, Stanton sees a harbinger of disruptive change in its details:

In the distance we can see the mountains

that edge the Hudson River.
Approach within a few inches
of the canvas and you can spy
the smokestacks of the growing village 

that crowds the far side of the river.
By the time Cole painted it,
this view could no longer be seen
because a railroad had cut through it…

A very close look is needed to see the houses, smoke rising from the chimney of one of them, in the middle distance. It’s an easily missed detail, but for Stanton, it becomes the painting’s center of gravity and the latent meaning of the family idyll. The human presence, so seemingly minor here, is about to expand, alter, and eventually overwhelm the landscape. Which it in fact did. As Stanton notes, by the time Cole painted the picture some of the forest had already been cleared away for construction of the Canajoharie and Catskill railroad. We might even see a premonition of the intrusion of the human on the natural in the way Cole has balanced elements of light and dark: given the predominance of shadow covering the valley, it seems likely the painting depicts a moment in late afternoon. After reading Stanton’s poem, we might see the lengthening shadow as a metaphor for the encroachment of human development on the local ecosystem.

But the human encroachment on and despoliation of nature isn’t the end of the story, as Stanton shows with his ekphrasis of Cole’s The Course of Empire: Desolation (1836), the last of a series of five paintings Cole made depicting the life cycle of an empire from its raw tribal beginnings to the height of its wealth and dominance and ending with its inevitable destruction. Desolation shows the moonlit site of what once was a hegemonic city but now is a ruin being reclaimed by the surrounding vegetation. Stanton’s response to the painting takes the form of a loose sonnet culminating in a rhyming couplet that serves as both an epitaph and an expression of hope for regeneration:

The Empire’s deconstructed; its frenzied screams
have becalmed, the harbor now abandoned.
All that’s alive here is a scatter of trees
and, perched on a capitol Corinthian,
a heron nesting as if a world could go on and on-- 

despite all loss, despite all despair,
as if new life could happen anywhere.

The poem’s modified sonnet form, occasional rhymes, and inverted phrase “capitol Corinthian” (which uses Cole’s original spelling for the architectural feature) lend it a quasi-archaic character that fits the temper of the painting.

Many of the paintings Stanton writes of carry a force that derives from their ability to evoke a sense of the sublime – that feeling of awe and exaltation, tinged with an undertone of terror and existential unease, that one might feel when viewing a rugged landscape from the distance and security that an image in a painting affords. The representation of nature as sublime was a hallmark of the Hudson River painters. Sanford Robinson Gifford’s A Gorge in the Mountains, Kaaterskill Clove is one example. Gifford portrays an abyssal ravine on an autumn afternoon in a hazy sunlight that half-dissolves its distant contours into a wash of gold and yellow-green. The loftiness of the view, the vastness of the geological features, and the pervasiveness of a light that paradoxically obscures rather than illuminates some of its objects – all of these are qualities Burke identified as characteristic of the sublime. In Stanton’s reading of the painting this scene retains its ability to awe, but his focus is on the human story it implies, as embodied in the foreground figures of a hunter and his dog:

Gifford gives us a cluster of birches
on a precipitous ledge at far left.
The birches and the ledge are vivid,
sharp-edged in detail in the gleam
of the late-afternoon light of the sun
that shines center-cut directly at us.

Below the ledge a hunter and his dog
struggle upward towards this amazing
view of a vast ravine, bright
and golden, dazzled by delicate
mists rising from lakes and ponds
and creeks and the dimly visible 

line of white that is, we know,
the tumbling falls of Kaaterskill… 

We cannot quite make out the disk
that is the sun, it’s a near-white,
a pure, unrelenting intensity.
A clearing in the deep distance
holds a small house, tiny,
from where we stand. 

Smoke rises from its stack,
speaking of a fireplace,
where a stew is cooking,
for the belated hunter,
whose return is,
perhaps patiently, awaited.

The view is “amazing,” the ravine is “vast” and the light “dazzl[ing]” – qualities of the sublime, to be sure, but what ultimately engages Stanton is the hunter, whom he imagines as being out late and perhaps a cause of worry to the people waiting for him in the distant house. It’s a choice of the concrete over the abstract, and the homely over the metaphysical.

As throughout the collection, “Kaaterskill Clove” gives us a sensitively detailed description of the painting written with plain language. The poem is structured in neat, six-line stanzas and additionally features frequent alliterations that move the rhythm along and provide at least one visual pun: the recurrence of the letter “v” in “view of a vast ravine” cleverly mimics the plunging shape of the cleft. Beyond its descriptive fidelity to the images on the canvas, the poem elaborates a narrative possibility that Stanton sees in Gifford’s painting. This reflects Stanton’s expansive approach to ekphrasis, which sees paintings as what he has elsewhere called “frozen moments” – scenes that have “multivarious narrative implications” waiting to be articulated through imaginative interpretation.

The narrative Stanton finds implied in Martin Johnson Heade’s 1868 Thunderstorm on Narragansett Bay, an ominous seascape of black storm clouds and rain over some small boats and smaller human figures by the waterline, focuses on the scene’s psychological dimensions. Stanton writes of the boats “hurrying back toward shore,/ driven by the dark and what the dark portends” – an “unrelenting argument of heavy weather,/ its shouted rhetoric of rain and wind.” The potential for destruction is in the air, literally; the storm’s threat is read off of it as a portent, as one would read a sign. But in the closing couplet Stanton suggests that an element of psychological ambiguity is at play as well, when he writes of the scrambling figures that “They know that even this garish sky can be/ a comforting sort of grief, a dark abode.” What he captures here is one of the paradoxes of the sublime – the strange sense of satisfaction that accompanies the terror, or what Kant in his third Critique described as a “negative pleasure.”

When we respond to the painting of a landscape we respond as much to the artifice of the painting’s way of making the landscape present as to the landscape itself. Nature here isn’t natural so much as humanized -- mediated through the means and conventions attendant on representation. Stanton brings this out in his poem on Albert Bierstadt’s Among the Sierra Nevada, California (1868): 

Bierstadt built his grandeurs piece by piece
from quantities of sketches and photographs.
Stereographs helped him to grasp
and render meticulously. 

He wanted to be theatrical,
but he wanted, too, to get
all the details correct, absolutely
and three-dimensionally right. 

He gives us Sierras, lit by a sun
whose light explodes through the clouds
gathered on and amidst snow-capped peaks.
As usual, Bierstadt makes it more 

of a profundity than it could
by any shift of eye or mind --
possibly, plausibly – be…

What we see in this proto-Photorealist painting has been carefully crafted, put there through a series of technologically afforded choices that result not only in a picture, but in a “mythos, too wonderful to be true,/ while looking, to our eyes,/ entirely and ridiculously real.” Bierstadt’s simulacrum is striking not only for its accuracy, but for its dramatic enhancement of the scene it depicts. The reality it conveys is hyperreal, its beauty is at once profound and “ridiculous.”

Stanton’s own use of artifice in his poems is present but understated. His tone is conversational and his language direct and unpretentious; his occasional use of rhyme doesn’t call attention to itself. He has a good eye for the kind of detail a more casual viewer might overlook, which allows him to expand on some of the nuances in the paintings. The inclusion of color reproductions of most of the paintings he writes about is a welcome feature of this stimulating collection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daniel Barbiero is a writer, double bassist, and composer in the Washington DC area. He writes about the art, music, and literature of the classic avant-gardes of the 20th century as well as on contemporary work; his essays and reviews have appeared in Arteidolia, The Amsterdam Review, Heavy Feather Review, periodicities, Rain Taxi, Word for/Word, Otoliths, Offcourse, Open Doors Review, London Grip, Perfect Sound Forever, Point of Departure, and elsewhere. His essays on poetics have appeared in the books Telling It Slant (University of Alabama Press), and The World in Time and Space (Talisman House); he is the author of As Within, So Without, a collection of essays published by Arteidolia Press. His score Boundary Conditions III appears in A Year of Deep Listening (Terra Nova Press). Website: https://danielbarbiero.wordpress.com.

Monday, May 3, 2021

Bunkong Tuon : Beneath the Midi Sun, by Jim and Carol McCord

Beneath the Midi Sun, Jim and Carol McCord
Shanti Arts LLC, 2020

 

 

With Beneath the Midi Sun, husband and wife, partners in the arts and life, Jim and Carol McCord continue where they left off in Two Lenses—Four Europes, a series of poetic and visual meditations on the natural landscape. Whereas the previous collaboration gives us an unconventional tour of four European countries, with poetic and visual snapshots of France, Spain, England, and Greece, their latest collection focuses on life in Southern France, what the locals call “Le Midi,” where the McCords had lived for six winters. It is an artistic and poetic engagement with a specific place in France, home to diverse animal and plant life and also with a rich history of saints, savages, and artists. What the McCords do best in this book (and in their other collaborations) is to make us see the world with a new pair of eyes, or “lenses,” where ultimately we appreciate the quiet beauty and rich history of place.

The book opens with a photograph of what looks like an ordinary mountain cliff. With the help of the accompanying poem, “Out Our Back Window,” and upon further inspection, we see with new sight the various life forms beyond the back patio. The speaker tells us: “Over all a serene / rock face gazes.” The relationship of object and subject shifts, as we find ourselves being watched by the landscape and becoming the object of its curious gaze. Unfazed, the poet looks back and begins to see the particulars of this “rock face:” “Its brow / ripped with age, scar / on right cheek, eyes the / homes of crag martins / to roost in the darkness before / they take frenzied flight / to feast in day’s light.” 

With curiosity and openness, a large-heartedness for the world around them, they travel and live in places such Greece, Spain, Portugal, France, and England. Carol takes photographs and Jim writes poems. It’s not clear which came first, the photos or the poems, but what is clear is the care and attention, the respect they bestow upon the subjects of their camera and poetic lenses. Nature and place thus serve as a catalyst for their art and interest . 

As we journey with the McCords, we encounter places rich with history. We witness the persecution of the Cathars during Pope Innocent III’s crusade. Photographs of castles shrouded in fog and under brilliant blue skies and macabre gargoyles provide us glimpses into this world. The poems give voice to the actors in this series of religious warfare during Europe’s Medieval Age. In “Rage of a Crusader,” the speaker of the poem attempts to justify his hatred for the “other”: “Heretics who blaspheme with viper’s tongue / our Roman Church . . . They dare call Jehovah murderer, / our savior a harlot’s lover, his body common / bread.” In the mind of this crusader, atrocities must be committed for such blasphemies. The poem ends with the following horrific promise: “We’ll make / kindling of their tindery robes, flesh, / bones for radiant fires of damnation.”  

Immediately following this poem is “Defense of a Heretic,” where a Cather explains his people’s quiet and peaceful life, one that is devoid of the pageantry of the Church and in harmony with nature: “We meet without ceremony in weaver’s shops, / speak civilly, abhor war. Sandals on our feet, / coarse robes our clothing, our women and men / equal. We eat what greens earth offers, drink /what milk our animals give.”

Such tension and conflict come to a close with Carol’s photograph of “Cathar Dove,” a dove literally carved out of a stone, the luminescent blue sky its body. Here, art and photography concludes the conflict with a message of peace and hope for renewal and new beginnings. 

The McCords also document contemporary life in southern France. “Ceret Market Day” is a delight to read because of its humor and playfulness, where the farmers and sellers are described based on their wares: “This morning a yogurt girl tiny as her jar, / Catalan butcher with sausage fingers,/ stuffed ravioli woman and crusty baker. / Oval-faced poulter with beak for nose, / cheesy husband and creamy wife, / sweet flipper of savory crepes.” We are what we do, the poet tells us. And we can’t help but notice the good humor and inventiveness in the poet’s use of language and imagery in contrast to Carol’s quiet photograph of people and produce in the Ceret Market. 

“Country Dining” talks of “common fare and country / manners at Café de Pays where they serve / local wines to wash down local meat/ bread fresh from Le Pain Levain around / the corner, fruit plucked from nearby /orchards, greens from roadsides. Flavors / natural like ailment from paradise.” The food is fresh, local, delicious and healthy, and the owners “greet / you with the warmth of an old friend.” The accompanying photo of the restaurant’s placard is simple and elegant, without the fancy footwork of modern advertisement, befitting of this quiet, remote place.  

Throughout Beneath the Midi Sun are photographs and poems of hillsides, mountaintops, and streams, of bridges, sculptures and statues, of crosses, steeples, and tree trunks, of an ancient amphitheater and public bathhouse, of a snow-covered playground and snow-capped roots. The fascination and respect for their subjects is clear in these photographic and poetic gazes. The book also meditates on old age, death, and dying, poems about and photographic imaginings of the final days of Cezanne and Renoir. In “William Blake Visits Vincent van Gogh” we hear an imagined conversation between the romantic painter, printmaker, poet, and visionary and the great post-impressionist painter. The madness and humor can only be conveyed by reading this poem out loud. 

The book is ultimately about relationships—poetry and photography, past and present, enemies and friends, nature and culture, earth and sky, summer and winter, life and death, et al. The central relationship in this book is of course the friendship of husband and wife, Jim and Carol. In “Dolmen Huntress,” the poet paints a picture of his wife and fellow conspirator at work searching for “the bare-bones / of stone, the way they stand, / lean, have fallen.” She is not only interested in how and why these megaliths were built and for what funeral purposes, she revels in the great mystery of man and his place in the cosmos. The poet thus concludes: “Praise be / the mysteries of rock and man.” The accompanying photo is bare, empty of ego and human interest. In fact, the perspective is that of the dolmen itself, looking out at the world. Our lens is shifted once again. And this is what good arts should do. Our perspective shifts and new understandings about the world and our place in it emerge.

 

 

 

 

Bunkong Tuon is a Cambodian-American writer and critic. He is the author of Gruel, And So I Was Blessed (both published by NYQ Books), The Doctor Will Fix It (Shabda Press), and Dead Tongue (a chapbook with Joanna C. Valente, Yes Poetry). Nominated for the Pushcart and Best of the Net prizes, he was a finalist for the Naugatuck River Review Prize and winner of the Nasiona Nonfiction Poetry Prize. He teaches at Union College, in Schenectady, NY. He tweets @BunkongTuon

 

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