Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Spirit of Montmartre.

Montmartre, the Mecca for the Bohemian
world the fin de déclin de siècle
where once pious nuns did pray 
now throngs of local patrons seeking 
pleasure of sensuality sublime as they beg 
for something more:
Mon cher mon ame et corps tu me fait un grand plaisir
A virtuosity with color,
 both compassionate and voyeuristic
a most perplexing  young man was he,
though small in stature,
somewhat harsh, witty, 
a chronicle of the bawdy, 
lived a life among the sordid,
using only a paintbrush  he surpasses
the  language of the senses
and  immortalized the unknowns,
singers, poets, and can-can girls
Temptation of the soul whispering taunts,
with a skewed perspective,
illuminating the shadows with lurid colors
the young unknown artist paints 
the aching beauty of the naughty girl 
with low neckline and tossed up skirt,

with all the follies and sins despite,
shrouded in ambiguous, artificial light,
the chanticleer of Pan’s nightlife,
painting those souls in brothels, bars and cabarets.
Savoring his intoxication, drunkenly he inhales pain,
unable to speak Toulouse de Lautrec succumbs at age 36,
with one last glimpse of his life
left on the canvas of the spirit of Montmartre.
fin 

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (b Albi, Tarn, 24 Nov 1864; d Chateau de Malromé, nr Langon, Gironde, 9 Sept 1901) was a leading postimpressionist artist whose paintings, lithography, and posters contributed much to the development of Art Nouveau in the 1890s.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri_de_Toulouse-Lautrec 

photo credits: Google  toulouse-lautrec-- The last painting shown here Toulouse Latrec painted his portrait in the scene -he is the one with the beard.

 join me with Emily who hosts imperfect prose here. and other poets.

copy of poem without photo's

Montmartre, the Mecca for the Bohemian world
the fin de déclin de siècle where once pious nuns did pray
now throngs of local patrons seeking pleasure
of sensuality sublime as they beg for something more:
Mon cher mon ame et corps tu me fait un grand plaisir
A virtuosity with color, both compassionate and voyeuristic
a most perplexing  young man was he
though small in stature, somewhat harsh, witty,
a chronicle of the bawdy, lived a life among the sordid,
using only a paintbrush
he surpasses the  language of the senses
and  immortalized the unknowns, singers, poets, and can-can girls.
Temptation of the soul whispering taunts,
with a skewed perspective,
illuminating the shadows with lurid colors
the young unknown artist paints
the aching beauty of the naughty girl
with low neckline and tossed up skirt,
with all the follies and sins despite,
shrouded in ambiguous, artificial light,
the chanticleer of Pan’s nightlife,
painting those in brothels, bars and cabarets.
Savoring his intoxication,
drunkenly inhales pain,
unable to speak
Toulouse de Lautrec succumbs at age 36,
with one last glimpse of his life
left on the canvas of the spirit of Montmartre.

23 comments:

  1. Beauty in pictures and words Joanny.
    Wishing you a lovely day:)
    Warm hug from me:)

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  2. I have been there, last year!
    I have stayed in Montmartre one week!
    Wonderful, magical, full of memories place!
    Thank you!
    Regards


    http://graphis-artwork.blogspot.com/

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  3. Very nice art you share with us this time.

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  4. Nice serie Joanna....he was a great artist.

    Greetings, Joop

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  5. I love reading about those times, but I supposed that living there was not easy for everyone. beautiful choice of pictures!

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  6. As always fatastic pics and wonderful words.

    Take care,
    Yvonne.

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  7. Will always "come again" to visit your wonderful blog, Joanny. It is a lovely gift to the world.

    I completely loved this poem and photo's of Lautrec's work. Wonderful.

    I was fortunate to be able to view his paintings in a showing about ten years ago in Sacramento. It was such a delight.

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  8. lovely little bit of history...like the paintings as well...remember studying him in art class...

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  9. Joanny so glad to have discovered your beautiful blog I love Toulouse Lautrec and I love the poem.
    X

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  10. Joanny, in case you don't see it on my blog, I want to thank you for what you wrote. It meant a lot that you would take the time to do it. I'm going to copy it out and hang it in my studio. Thanks, friend. xo

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  11. Wow very Beautiful.. A poem about Art.. it's wonderful that I could just switch the words around and say... an art about poetry - and it still holds the same meaning in the piece

    great read.. Peace

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  12. A sad tale you wove with depth and impression. Thank you for sharing and visiting me as well.

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  13. Excellent work in weaving the story with the lovely paintings. Thanks for sharing Joanny.

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  14. joanny... i've missed you... i'm so glad you linked...

    what brokenness i find here; and your words are like the painter whose brushstrokes capture humanity. a gorgeous piece, which radiates redemption. xo

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  15. thanks joanny for the wonderful pics, words and little history lesson - didn't know this painter before but i like his style of painting

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  16. and in the dark...
    the history wakens!
    what a sweet escape you have offered us joanny! :)

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  17. How happy and honoured Henri TL would have been to read this! At least we can! He lived at different places around Montmartre. Maybe I should try to make a TL tour on my blog one day?

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  18. And his drink of choice?
    ABSINTHE!!!

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  19. Only 36. So young. Mozart died young too. Lautrec's style was quite identifiable. The young girl on the floor is my favorite painting here.

    I have glimpsed Monmartre from the lower arrondissements. Next trip to Paris shall I visit this artists' mecca.

    xo

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  20. Great poem, if we could live at least one night out in Paris with those interesting characters .... Truly a dream that you are resurrected in us.

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