Rafael Alberti Merello (December 16, 1902 - October 28, 1999) was a Spanish poet, a member of the Generation of '27. Alberti published his first books of poetry towards the end of the 1920s: Marinero en tierra ('Sailor on Dry Land', 1925), La Amante ('The Mistress', 1926) and El alba del alhelí ('The Dawn of the Wallflower', 1927). This early work fell broadly into the Cancionero tradition, though from a markedly avant-garde perspective.
After falling in with the other members of the Generation of '27, Alberti began to show the profound influence of Luis de Góngora on his work, most obviously in Cal y canto ('Quicklime and Plainsong', 1929). It was, however, the introspective surrealism of Sobre los ángeles ('Concerning the Angels', 1929), whose tone was perhaps anticipated by some of the more sombre moments of Cal y canto, that established Alberti as a mature poet. Sobre los ángeles is widely considered to be Alberti's best work.
Evocative poems on colors, elements of a picture (line, form) and individual artists. The poems on several artists are particularly effective in conveying the sensations of viewing their work (e. g. Picasso, Delacroix)
"The fleeting scarlet of a poppy. / Bathed by the sea and worked / by her blue throat, I grow into / a sharp bouquet: bright coral. / Think how I'm lost / in the tiniest violet" (39).
4/4.5 stars. This was a beautiful and unexpected gem, bridging the mediums of painting and poetry. Rafael Alberti was an important artist and revolutionary figure in Spain who had to go into hiding due to the rise of fascism during World War II, fleeing to Paris and then Latin America. He was a close friend of Lorca, Neruda, and Picasso among others. What a fascinating life he led, and his poetry is no less compelling.
"Thought makes the painting bright, / paralyzes form with light" (93).
Alberti crafts odes to the retina, to the hand, to perspective, to watercolour, etc. He separates and thanks each individual component or genre in a moving act of rhapsody and authorial intent. His form has now deeply influenced me—as well as the idea of his self-imposed residency at the Prado, which has made me want to wander Edinburgh's National Gallery, charting the varying use of color throughout the paintings.
To no one's surprise, I love love love "To Light (Impressionism)—"to you, gold aquarelle, liquid language." Swooning!
"And one green, the most beautiful / of all, which I forget, or can't recall" (85).
I was listening to my favorite podcast, First Draft, yesterday, and Ada Limón (future Poet Laureate) was the guest. The interviewer asked about her advice for readers beginning to try poetry, and Limón said to read what you're attracted to. Read one poem a day, maybe; make selections from a book and don't read the whole thing through. Read what you LIKE. Then she read The Art of Losing by Elizabeth Bishop and I was thrilled. I LOVE that poem. It made me realize that getting through this book is a slog for me. I fully realize that Rafael Alberti is a genius and that his poems are meticulously structured to reflect the poet, painting tool, or color he's talking about -- objectively SO cool. Everything in me wanted to love them, but I just don't. And rather than wasting my time with poetry that doesn't grab me, I'm going to read something else! Three stars because even though this isn't my thing, the quality of translation from Spanish to English seems professionally done and the notes on each poem are extensive and super helpful in understanding the poems. Feel free to borrow or just straight up take this book from me if poems about painting sound appealing to you!
"El aroma a barnices, a madera encerada, a ramo de resina fresca recién llorada; el candor cotidiano de tender los colores y copiar la paleta de los viejos pintores; la ilusión de soñarme siquiera un olvidado Alberti en los rincones del Museo del Prado; la sorprendente, agónica, desvelada alegría de buscar la Pintura y hallar la Poesía, con la pena enterrada de enterrar el dolor de nacer un poeta por morirse un pintor, hoy distantes me llevan, y en verso remordido, a decirte ¡oh Pintura! mi amor interrumpido."
Un libro que combina dos expresiones artísticas, creando una nueva forma en la que no se necesita un pincel para recrear una pintura, sino que son las propias palabras las que dan lugar a la obra.