The Rane Gallery
214 Ledoux Street
Saturday October 11,2008
An unveiling and reading
Regional artists and poets have come together on a project: Beginning with Bill Rane’s 1981 painting, Aegean Sea Scroll, each artist (poet/visual) was asked to respond, one by one, to the artwork alternating, linked and inspired solely by the preceding unidentified artist and artwork. The art of creating art inspired by another genre is called Ekphrasis. Last year during the Taos Fall Arts Celebrations, Rane Gallery hosted “Reflections on Rane,” where 11 poets read their poems inspired by different works by Bill Rane. That collection, The Master’s Hand, Reflections on Rane, will be available at the Oct. 11th event. This event pushes the envelope further.
Poems are responded to by visual art, and in turn, another poet answers the painting/sculpture. The process took a year, an artistic “round robin” or “telephone tag.”Will a theme emerge? Will a connection between the 24 artists be revealed? Please do come to see the specially created art work, and hear the poems.
The participating artists include: Bill Rane, Veronica Golos, Randall LaGro, Cheryl Loetscher, Dororthy Lampl, Joseph Hutchison, Seamus Berkeley, Ellaraine Lockie, Duaine O’Hagan, Karen Cordova, Homare Ikeda, Kathleen Cain, Carlos Barela, Andrea L. Watson, Nancy Delpero, Scott Wiggerman, David Hinske, Madelyn Garner, Don Ward, Carol Aronoff, Lenny Foster, Linda Arnold, Salvatore Giglio, Dora E. McQuaid
Interwoven Illuminations I Taos News
Artist, Carlos Barela, Santero
Poet, Andrea Watson
Sleeping in the House of Saints
Ðon’t you want to ask—
Why must the wife of the santero wear
earrings made of earth and wood?
By day, his women balance silence.
In the nicho, la Guadalupana wants
the sun, stands above the moon.
Hers is the cloak of cold heaven,
crown of December pearls. How beautiful
su mandoria, body halo tipped almagre
through topaz heart of flame. Mira:
Our Lady of the Rosary: He has carved her
out of cottonwood, entwined the child
with its roots. The sadness of her face.
The robe spinning ribbons and veins.
She cradles the kneeling world
between candles and rainbow of God.
By night, in the chapel of their bedroom,
the wife of the saint-maker is unveiled,
a ruby at her center. His fingers sculpt
her hair to juniper, skin gessoes
to his touch. Paradise. This, and then, this:
She is the perfumed altar of midnight.
He is the deepest moment of dark.
Ðon’t you want to ask—
What must our lady suffer to wear
earrings made of blood and stars?
-Andrea L. Watson
Artist, Nancy Delpero
Oil on Canvas 20″ x 16″
Poet, Scott Wiggerman
She weaves a blanket, blue with birth-
red stars, wraps herself in it
like darkness veils la noche,
gazes upward and waits—
days, weeks, seasons.
Transfixed by the empty canopy
of blue, an azul stillness,
she does not see the shadow
pass over the desert—
but feels it like a breath.
Into her vision floats
an old priest with a cold eye,
the edge of his cassock frayed
like blueblack tailfeathers.
Then—an apparition, a trick—
with the same gray eye, a raven,
clothed in cleric’s rags,
a rosary dangling from his neck,
a tear of blood shaped
like a woven star on la cruz.
Her eardrums bleed,
her hair ravels into ropes.
She stares at the bird, spellbound,
prays so hard, she faints.
When she opens her eyes,
el cielo is turquoise blue
and peace glimmers everywhere—
no more reason to wait.