Saturday, August 26, 2006
Her delicacy conceals an iron
Disposition. She poses silently,
Unfixed, unfocussed, disinterested.
The gliterati of all Vienna
Crave to take her place, here beneath his gaze
Awaiting transformation. Yet even
Now the untrained eye can see his portrait
Will never melt this sheet of solid ice.
The hands lay bare her thoughts for all to see.
White knuckles wrap nervously around
Feelings suppressed, swathed in cascades of white,
Whereof she cannot speak one single word,
Whereon she must remain silent, unheard,
Unseen, a masterpiece kept out of sight.
This was the first of the 16 Klimt 'sonnets' that I wrote. I was intrigued by ths story that the subject so disliked the portrait that it was hidden away face to the wall and I managed to weave in a direct quote from her more famous philosopher relative, who coincidentally was the hero of the late D.Z. Phillips, a long time adversary of the Left in Swansea, survived gloriously by his Nemesis Colwyn Williamson. I'm told that CW is on holiday in France and may not yet have heard the glad tidings.