Understanding Othello

I will attempt to “translate” the following passage from Othello to modern English.

(Formatting is kinda funky, but it is Act 1 Scene iii, lines 70-106)

BRABANTIO. Humbly I thank your grace. Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, Your special mandate for the state-affairs Hath hither brought.

DUKE OF VENICE. We are very sorry for’t.

DUKE OF VENICE. [To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this?

BRABANTIO. Nothing, but this is so.

OTHELLO. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approved good masters, That I have ta’en away this old man’s daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her: The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little bless’d with the soft phrase of peace: For since these arms of mine had seven years’ pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used Their dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnish’d tale deliver Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration and what mighty magic, For such proceeding I am charged withal, I won his daughter.

BRABANTIO. A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush’d at herself; and she, in spite of nature, Of years, of country, credit, every thing, To fall in love with what she fear’d to look on! It is a judgment maim’d and most imperfect That will confess perfection so could err Against all rules of nature, and must be driven To find out practices of cunning hell, Why this should be. I therefore vouch again That with some mixtures powerful o’er the blood, Or with some dram conjured to this effect, He wrought upon her.

Words to know (that aren’t awkward contractions)

pith- The essence of something or had been gone

broil- become very hot

conjuration- a magic incantation or spell

dram- pouch of whisky

Moor- Muslim and/or African peoples who lived along the Adriatic sea during the middle ages

Besides these words, the only words that a prepared reader might have issue with are the contractions that simply require some thought. Largely because of the dependence on contractions in this passage, few words of incredible difficulty are used as compared to other sections of text.

My translation of the text.

Brabantio- Duke, here is the Moor whom you requested for assistance with your military plans.

Duke of Venice- We are sorry that we needed him.

Duke to Othello- What is your response to these allegations?

Brabantio- He can add nothing.

Othello- To all those respected fellows above me who have the power to judge my actions today. It is true that I have stolen this man’s daughter. In fact, we are married. Nothing more have I done. Ever since I was seven years old, until 9 months ago, all I knew was war. So I know little of this world that does not pertain to battle. Because of this I cannot properly come to my own defense, but I can tell you what happened.  How we fell in love, without the use of any such charms, conjurations, and magic that I am accused of today.

Brabantio- She is a good girl, never outspoken, only quiet and obedient. She blushes at every possible thing. How am I to believe that one so innocent fell in love with that which she can hardly gaze at? You’d have to be foolish to think that someone as good as her could make a mistake so foolish. This is unnatural, surely the work of the devil. Knowing that, he must have wooed her with some charm or potion.

Additional Stuff

1. Within his longer passage, Brabantio compares Othello to the devil indirectly. This characterization of Othello as an outsider, compounded by his constant referencing of him as a moor is meant to highlight his division from the ruling class. By focusing on that, rather than his prowess in battle, Brabantio attempts to undermine him.
2. On the other hand, “action in the tented field” is referenced by Othello. By focusing on his service to Venice, he counters Brabantio’s diminishing of his positive qualities.
3. Lastly, by first addressing the “reverend signiors” as “approved good masters” he implies dictates that he will honor their judgement. By honoring their judgement, he hopes to find a more favorable verdict.

What can I say?

(blog prompt for this week)

If you’ve been reading my blog throughout the year, you’ve probably noticed a litany of grammatical mistakes, and incomplete thoughts. I’ve enjoyed the blog posts this year because I did them with the intent of enjoying writing them. My blog posts could have been significantly better if I had done revisions, but that isn’t what I saw in them.

In this blog post I’m going to talk about a few specific things that have been lingering on my mind lately. Outside of those specifics, I will also link to a few songs that have been stuck in my head.

The first order of business is effort. Whenever I came into High School I was another kid that was able to continually cruise through school. While at Consol, I gradually needed to become more stringent in my studies. A large part of me knows that every year I’ve become a better student, and taken school seriously, but an almost equally large part does not believe that to be so. On a daily basis I’ve felt like I’ve done a good job with my studies… studies completed after a decent amount of time spread out between after school clubs, listening to music, video games, and pure procrastination. What I’ve been thinking about lately is if it is worth it to consider ‘what if?’ or do I just focus on growth, or is there an in between? Looking at the past it is so easy to look back and think “if only I’d have spent doing more time doing x this would all be better”, but that isn’t truly the case. For the most part, I’ve treated my studies seriously and the ways that I’ve been lacking are not readily apparent at the time in which they are lacking. Moving forward, how do I turn internal frustration into future determination? I feel like I’ve always been able to move forward somewhat successfully, but going off to college “85% and I’ll work harder next time” simply won’t cut it.

For what it is worth, I doubt this post will help anyone come to any answers about questions that I raise. Rather, this post is just brief insight into the turmoil that is my current mental process.

That being said, lets have a brief music break. The Social Experiment (Chance the Rapper) – Windows. I’ve been unable to listen to stop listening to this song for the entirety of this blog post so far. This song isn’t really about the words, it’s about the tone of the song. Something about the musical composition of this song makes me feel drawn in and vulnerable, continually exploring it in the hope of some profound insight. The male lead in the song (Chance the Rapper) has said that this ballad is targeted toward his infant daughter. However, a distrust of others, and awareness of oneself is the underlying message that I get from this quintessential Chance song. Another song with a similar tone

Moving on, I want to talk briefly about uncertainty. Going off to college, it feels like everything is changing. With all of the change, questions about the world, myself, and specifics about college life appear to come up daily. As a person, I’ve always sought out questions that I can’t answer. At what point have you given yourself too many questions and done yourself a disservice?

I don’t know the answer to that last question, but I’m gradually moving forward toward the semblance of answers.

I think I just went too-meta. By questioning the number of questions that I have, I’ve gone a level too deep for my liking. While I’m still busy dwelling on the nature of questions, I’d ask you to move on to another song and enjoy your day.

 

A Speech for Graduation

For this week’s Blog post we were asked to write a speech for graduation. Below is my speech.

Hello All,

 

You know me as Pancho, a senior here at Consolidated who is graduating with the rest of ya. I’m proud to be a member of the graduating class of 2016, but my foresight isn’t 2020 when it comes to my future plans *audience groans*. That joke aside, graduating from high school is a big landmark on the roadmap of life. Many of the students before me today, as well as up on this stage with me, are at a crossroads in life.

I’m speaking to commemorate all that has passed during our time as a part of the College Station Independent School District. Truthfully, I cannot come up here and offer profound insight on the individual experiences of all who graduate today, nor can I focus purely on my tale.

A&M Consolidated is a AAAAA High School that has many activities that provide more than enough opportunities for involvement from its students. The beauty of Consol is that we can get involved in whatever we wish. We have a great athletics department, incredible audio/video tech, a great technology program, and many other tight knit groups that propel their members forward.

But it all started long before that. The majority of us here today have spent a considerable time in the CSISD system. Personally, I’ve come up through College Hills, Oakwood, and AMCMS. During much of that time I was lucky to be a part of the Dual Language program. In my classes, as well as in the classes of my peers, I was gradually raised into the person that I am.

At the crossroad of life that we are at, it is important to realize what this point in our life means; additionally, we must see how to be the best people possible as we move forward.

Something that I’ve been dwelling on lately, and that relates to how to be the best person you can be, is how bias affects our life. Despire the presence of external stimuli, the entirety of our thoughts and experiences are our own. As a part of these experiences, we are very biased based on our perspective. In becoming better people, we must be able to recognize how perspective shapes our existence. Being able to think outside of our own biases can provide a sense of clarity, and a calmness that if often lost in the chaos of life.

Separate from that, for many of us school has given us a clear purpose over the last few years. Moving forward, the ability to give your life purpose is essential to maintaining happiness. Purpose can be as simple as caring for your family. Purpose can also be much grander than the concept of ‘self’. Moving forward, as adults we must seek to answer those questions so we can live a happy life.

Many of us are already taking these steps into adulthood. The steps taken makes it paramount that we understand what changes, and what we must control. As we move onto the next step, and have more control over our lives, my message is to stay happy. Regardless of other circumstances, a quest to be happy is for the better.

 

Thanks,

 

Pancho.

 

— Francisco Mackin-Plankey

It’s hard to give a good speech at graduation, but this was my shot. I hope you liked it.

Munger (Mealtime related hunger)

This week’s blog post asked us to create and define a new word for the English language.

My word is “Munger” or Meal related hunger.

As living creatures, we require sustenance to survive. For many humans, sustenance is 3 square meals a day. In anticipation of eating food, one might have a hunger separate from  physical hunger. Hunger only due to the fact that you typically eat at that time of day should be called munger.

I can easily recount multiple instances of munger today. For instance, while on senior wellness I grew hungry around 10 because that is typically when I have a protein bar in third period. By recognizing how our body’s clock is different from our actual one, we can more easily isolate and recognize munger.

While my descriptions are fairly short, they are because I am not certain how to expand on the concept of munger.

To state it again, ‘munger’ is the hungriness that one feels because they typically eat around that time of the day. Munger is not the physical need for food, as hunger is.

Claude Monet’s “The Boat Studio”

Once you’ve decided which painting appeals to you, complete this job: The painting is a snapshot—a moment from a larger story. What is that story? Tell it in your blog post. Include the artist’s name and the title of the painting in the title of your post.

In 1881 Otto von Bismark first established the idea of government assisted retirement. However, for the wealthy of Europe, a life of wealth was already comparable to retirement. One such wealthy man was Henry Cavendish, the Duke of Devonshire in England. He reigned in the mid-18oos and lived off of his inherited wealth for all of his life. As was worthy of someone in his position, Mr. Cavendish labored greatly in finding his artistic side. Possessing a great understanding of the arts, Mr. Cavendish decided to explore the world in his old age. Content to let his sons manage his estate, Mr. Cavendish began a multi-year expedition through Southeast Asia.

Mr. Cavendish decided that his expedition would progress through the following modern day countries in the following order: Singapore-Malaysia-Thailand-Cambodia-Vietnam-Myanmar-South Central China-Nepal-India then finishing with by taking a ship through the newly built Suez Canal to England.

Already a large way through his voyage, the above painting is Mr. Cavendish winding his way through a narrow point in the Ganges. Resting on his laurels and wealth, Mr. Cavendish spent a considerable portion of his voyage in meditation. In the above painting, Mr. Cavendish glances down the length of the Ganges with his notebook and pen resting against his leg.

Mr. Cavendish’s journal never survived the journey, but his spirit did. To all who knew him before and after his voyage, he was a changed man. Mr. Cavendish said that the change that manifested within himself was due to his introduction to meditation. The tranquility within the painting captured the new-found tranquility of Mr. Cavendish. Before his travels he had been a pretentious man who put excessive stress into his managing of affairs. Additionally, Mr. Cavendish possessed a hatred for those beneath him.

During his visit Mr. Cavendish found a way to compartmentalize his anger. In many regards, Mr. Cavendish was the same judgmental man that has been saving coppers at Devonshire, he simply found a way to avoid his thoughts.

In many ways, Mr. Cavendish represented the typical western convert to eastern traditions. Mr. Cavendish adopted the ideas of enlightenment, without ever approaching enlightenment himself.

The Commute

The following short story will be a take on the following prompt:

Here’s the scene: You’re in a train station. A train arrives, but it’s not the one you’re waiting for. As you watch a few people come and go, you notice a strange scene in the last car of the train. Only two people are inside–a young man and an older woman. They appear to be having a very animated discussion. The young man is clutching a large box to his chest. The woman is wearing a bizarre hat and holding a large map, which she continues to turn this way and that.

What’s going on here? Write it out in a few paragraphs of fiction. Account for all of the details in the above description. For an extra level of fun, write it from the first-person perspective of one of the people on the train.

8:03 am October 17th 2017 I am just trying to get into work at my job as a sales representative at the Sear’s situated in downtown Chicago. Every single day of the workweek I show up and put in my shift from 9-9. 12 terrible long hours daily separate me from happiness. The only solace I find in my meager existence is the variety of pitiable people that I encounter daily. However, after my mother’s birthday on the 14th, I had lost my entire weekend to mundane tasks. Then, Monday brought me 8 crazy customers that exhausted my least favorite day of the week.

Having dealt with all that I have in the last three days, I just want to put my headphones in, and escape this clammy train car. With a 30 minute commute daily, I slowly progress through many albums a week. Today, I attempt to delve back into my past happiness through a full listening to Illmatic by Nas. About 10 minutes into my listen, I finally reach my favorite song The World is Yours, the fourth track on Illmatic.

Unbeknownst to me, I begin to hum the chorus to the song “Whose world is this? (The world is yours, the world is yours) It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine Whose world is this?”. Almost in a reaction to my humming, a wealthy man decked out to the nines boards the train. As the man looks for a seat, he realizes there are none and decides to patiently stand near the far side of the train.

A few minutes later, the suited man and I both get off at the same stop, and make the same connection downtown. The suited man runs into the last car on the train as I approach a separate car. Right before the doors close, a run-down looking older woman steps into the same car as the suited gentleman. Curious as to the interaction of two people who I could not easily conceive of being more different, I quietly watch.

The man attempts to avoid the woman. The woman presses nearer. Quickly, the woman takes a large faded map and attempts to show the man what is on it. Clearly uncomfortable, the man clutches a small briefcase to his chest and begins to walk to the other side of the car. As this pattern continues, the woman gradually grows aggravated and begins to yell at the man. Pure gibberish erupts from her mouth.

“My god woman. Are you sane?” yells the man as he aggressively steps. The woman, clearly unaware of the new development in their argument continues to spout her gibberish.

As the woman’s aggravation continues, the man becomes sullen and decides to wait out the ride. Eventually, as the train approaches the next stop, the man quickly bolts off. I never saw that man again, but I did see that woman many a time later on in my life.

Every second Tuesday of any month for the next few years she sought out a young gentleman and asked for his assistance in understanding her map.

15 years later, or as I would consider it now; 1 failed marriage, 2 kids, 3 dogs, 4 jobs, and 5 new rentals later, I finally met the woman.

Dressed to the nines in my own suit, I had a very different commute into work. Despite the fact that my usual commute had changed, every second Tuesday of the month I would make the commute that I made in 2017. Holding my briefcase, smiling, I stood alone in the last car. A few stops in, the woman got onto the train with me. As she approached me, I finally confronted what she was speaking. Additionally, upon her map was a scrawl that I didn’t understand. After ten minutes of an inability to comprehend her, I began to google the phrases on the map. Eventually, I discovered that the woman was speaking lyaric.

I returned the following month having learned some of the basics of lyaric. The woman told me that she was descended from an ancient tribal king who came to her in a dream. The king said “Sister, you have devoted your life to the people around you. Continue to give them your fullest love, and you shall be blessed. You shall choose someone to carry on your message of hope. He must be as patient and willing as you to do what must be done. Wait for one who speaks as we do, for only he can comprehend what he must do to save our people.”

Before this, my life had been a continual paddle through the waters of mediocrity. The woman’s belief in me that had grown during our conversation had struck a bizarre chord. The woman said that she only rode on the second Tuesday of each month because she spent all of her time spent working at shelters, and promoting positivity in the slums of Chicago. She took the second Tuesday of each month off in memory of her son’s childhood baseball games, which had always been every other Tuesday. Her son was so dear to her both because he was her son, but also because he died to a stray bullet at the age of 12. To her, the son symbolized the beauty of life, and the indecency of humanity that was rampant where she lived.

Over the next few months, the woman and I grew incredibly close. She never told me her name, but she didn’t need to. I eventually learned from others that her love of lyaric had gotten her the nickname “Mary Jane” from all those that she had served. The people of the shelters said that she often told them tales of her dreams. Ever since a journey to Jamaica after her son’s death, she had worshiped the power that these dreams had over her. Her tales always left the listener believing in themselves, and hoping to do good. Her tales put me on the path to be a servant to others just as she had been.

While I can’t pretend that I’m one of the great men of the world, I can define the beginning of our friendship as a stabilizing point in my life. I began to re-chart my life, and gained a sense of purpose that filled my essence to the very brim with goodness and cheer.

I can’t claim to have made a lot of money, or lived the most bountiful life that I could, but I made a decision to be the best person I could. Motivated by those around me, I was able to re-shape the Chicago that I had always known.

However, despite my constant cheer I was never able to wrangle my kids away from my ex-wife, and my inability to see my kids more often than not put a damper on each individual day. Only once I realized the new family that I had joined did I become sober to my anguish over my separation with my kids.

I never became a follower of Rastafarianism and a speaker of lyaric like Mary Jane, but I didn’t have to. I found Buddha shortly after my involvement with the community.

Unbeknownst to me, many people all over the world were similarly improving their communities and making a better world. We initially hoped to bring upon an “Era of Good Feelings”, but upon realizing that the name was already taken, we settled for an “Era of Good Vibes“. Coincidentally, the “Era of Good Vibes” gained steam in a cultural Buddhist wave that overtook the United States. The western appropriation of Buddha (which I was a part of) maximized the satisfaction of “attaining enlightenment” and serving others without the initial hassle of suffering which unlocks oneness.

While my story of transforming the world for the better is clearly fictional, and without even a laughable amount of depth, it does serve a purpose. Cherish and take pride in those around you. If you make the effort to be good, who knows how positive the end result could be?

Comments on other’s blogs

This week, the blog duty is to read the blogs of others, and comment. I must apologize in advance if I tardy in accepting someone else’s comment, because I always fail to check for comments. That being said, here are my comments.

Comment #1 – https://tracheaofserendipity.wordpress.com/2016/03/06/abstract-art/comment-page-1/#comment-51

Post was about the abstract painting. The author felt that the painting had a certain skill, but it also gave people incorrect ideas about abstract art. They understood the poem, and were correct in assessing that the poem leaves a lot of questions to be answered by the painter.

Comment #2- https://swngthoughts.wordpress.com/2016/03/02/488/comment-page-1/#comment-55

Painting is purposeless, and there is no purpose to abstract art. The poet recognizes the lack of a purpose for abstract art. The author of this blog detests abstract art for its lack of purpose.

Comment #3 – https://mariesthoughts97.wordpress.com/2016/03/02/no-1/comment-page-1/#comment-35

Gradually, the art began to take on a purpose, and the author found that Pollack’s attention to detail is amazing. The attention to detail helped to give the author of the blog an enjoyment of the artwork. Additionally, the poem is correct in its assertions about art, its value, and the purpose of this art.

AP Poetry Practice

This weeks English assignment can be found here.

Within this post I will be providing the outline for an essay over the two poems within (in which they are compared) the link. I will also write about my reaction to the poems.

Poem #1 “When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be” by John Keats is a tale of a person (presumably young) lamenting their inability to accomplish all that they desire in life. Within the poem, ‘before’ is often used in lamentation of what the narrator will be unable to do. More important than the use of ‘before’ is that the piece is a sonnet, with a volta after the twelfth line. The tone shift that follows goes completely bleak, and has the narrator’s lamentations engulf them. Before the volta, the tone was still incredibly dismal, but not as bleak as the last couplet. The main idea of the poem is humanity’s individual inability to complete all that we desire. The poem is rife with metaphors about the future.

Poem #2 “Mezzo Cammin” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is a sonnet that follows a man looking back on his life, and seeing both the good and the bad. In this sonnet, the volta follows the eighth line. The shift is the movement from thinking of the past, to the metaphor of life as a hill, with the past a city at its base. That particular metaphor could be well used in comparison. The poem is quite downcast, but not as downcast as the other poem.

Thesis: “When I have Fears That I may Cease to Be” is a man fearful of his inability to do all he wishes with life; “Mezzo Cammin” is a man drearily reflecting on the past, but also looking toward the future.

Body Paragraph #1- Within both poems, a fatigue overcomes the narrator and forces a bleakness on the poem. (Focus on tonal shifts following voltas)

(Keats) “And I think I never may live to trace” and “Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain” -> “Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.”

(Longfellow) “The years slip from me and have not fulfilled” and “But sorrow… kept me from what I may accomplish yet” -> “hear above me… the cataract of death”

BP #2- Both poets come up with different ways to describe life.

(Keats) “Behold, upon the night’s starred face”, “Of the wide world I stand alone and think/ Till love and fame to nothingness do sink” (night is death)

(Longfellow) “Half my life is gone” “Though, half-way up the hill, I see the past lying beneath me with its sounds and sights, a city in the twilight dim and vast”

******

Closing note: With the busy, funky, crazy week that was this past one, I was only able to do this blog assignment today. Alas, already consumed by the frustration of soccer’s unexpected heart wrenching loss, I had to dwell extensively on the finality of our season, and High School. Because of the soccer team’s untimely demise, my writing today has been more than a tad biased. However, it is a passing mood, so no need to have prolonged thought on the tone of this blog post.

 

 

This Too Sullied Flesh

This week’s blog post is in response to this prompt. In class, my topic was whether or not Hamlet feigns madness within the play. Since presenting my very confident ‘IDK’ I’ve continued to linger on the idea of madness, and how it can be manipulated. My idea was that Hamlet might have some lesser degree of madness, and it impacts some of his actions; however, many of his ‘mad’ actions felt deliberate to me. That being said the topic for today’s post is

• Suicide is an important motif in Hamlet. We encounter the contemplation of suicide, and even the act itself (maybe). What does this play say about suicide?

Throughout this blog post, I will expand upon the question posted above in a somewhat formal stance. However, the stance of this blog post will not be entirely formal, after all it is a blog post, and when you work on blog posts all the silly willies accidentally jump onto the page. (Case in point)

Within Hamlet, I found that Shakespeare uses talk of suicide in a similar manner to how we use it in our modern lives. Hamlet’s “O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! God” (I.ii.132-136) reminds me of an exasperated student who is jokingly saying that their grades are so bad that the only option left to them is suicide. To me, that is Hamlet’s relationship with suicide. Hamlet views suicide as  a ‘get away’ from life, but doesn’t truly consider it. In his privilege, he laments the minor obstacles in his way (compared to peasants), but still to a certain degree is protected within his privilege from more seriously contemplating his suicide. However, Hamlet’s position is unique because he is royalty, and in being royalty has a certain degree of power. This power binds him to a different life than the rest of us, and puts suicide beneath him.

In comparison to Hamlet, there are only two other characters who contemplate/execute suicide in my opinion (Horatio and Ophelia) and it is in their relationship with suicide that I come to my conclusions.

Horatio contemplates suicide as Hamlet is dying of poison. “I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.
Here’s yet some liquor left.”(V.ii.350-351). Horatio’s  contemplation is the initial reaction to Hamlets death, the lasting mark of a true friend. However, Hamlet easily stops him from killing himself by asking him to relay Hamlet’s story to Fortinbras and the rest of the approaching world. The ease with which Hamlet stops Horatio says to me that his contemplation of suicide is out of privilege, just like Hamlet. It is a momentary contemplation, but then reality sets in.

Lastly, poor Ophelia actually kills herself. We only learn the details from the grieving family and clowns that tell us about it. The clown tells Hamlet “As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful;
And, but that great command o’ersways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified have lodg’d” (V.i.215-219). Given that Hamlet and Horatio overcame the ‘woe is me, I need to commit suicide’ urge(note* I am not trivializing suicide, it is a serious issue and should be treated as such. However, I feel that Hamlet and Horatio’s ideas of suicide are trivial), whereas some deeper depression/madness set in and overtook Ophelia.

So, I think that Shakespeare is showing the evils of suicide, but he is also mocking the privilege found within the royalty, and their friends. Ophelia represents the dangers of suicide/depression/madness whereas Horatio and Hamlet overly dramatize their frustration to the effect of mocking their status. The depth of Shakespeare is evident in his ability to warn us of suicide, while simultaneously using it as a way for the privileged characters in the play to demonstrate their privilege.

*Note-I did not consult the interwebs for this piece, so don’t laugh if I am ridiculously off base. Although I do not particularly want to admit it, I’ve acquired large biases about characters in Hamlet, and I find those biases hard to avoid. These biases might have slightly mangled how I approached the question, but I still believe my conclusion to be correct.

Song of the Day is – Opposites Attract by Kendrick Lamar

 

Reflecting on No.1

This Blog Post will be in two segments. First, I’ll share my response to No. 1 by Jackson Pollock. Later on, I’ll react to a poem presented within the assignment for this blog post.

Reflecting on No.1. (It is important to note that I was simultaneously listening to Keane while writing this reflection, as well as the rest of the blog post)

• Obviously, this is an abstract painting
• The yellow background, and the black paint are the loudest elements of the painting
• All Paint appears to have been flung on in straight lines
• Lines appear to be creating a bulging pentagon around the center of the image
• Colors seem to faintly resemble the outline of a butterfly
• More details appear the longer you look (such as red in bottom left corner, appears to be a lady bug to me)
• Yellow background visible through dribbling of paint.
• Each color seems to create a latticework of connections
• splatter tends to connect within the same color
• The size would give significance to every splotch
• nigh on impossible to understand the size of painting without experiencing it

I think the painting is so famous because its size, and directness allow the viewer to see what they wish to see in it. That is the beauty of abstract art, we see what we choose to. The happiness that the painting gave me reflects my status quo of happiness. However, since I am given the opportunity I must upload my current favorite painting, which is A Mountain Landscape with an Approaching Storm – Claude-Josheph Vernet 1775.

What I am trying to indicate by adding my favorite painting is that I do not have a particular preference for abstract art. I find it engaging, but it cannot compare with the incredible beauty of incredibly rendered landscapes.

That being said, I’ll not move on to my reflection on the poem (while listening to the same album as earlier).

• Sullivan’s reaction is similar to my own in that abstract art allows for the reader to create what we wish.
• “How to realize his question/let alone his answer?” This is the fundamental question posed by the piece. Does anything need to be asked, or can this piece create its own rules?
• Sullivan makes her point about the power of abstract art by providing comparisons in which it is both incredibly complicated, and yet very simple. In her varied metaphors, the expression of truth, as each person interprets it, can be found.
• I think that Sullivan adequately captures the ability for abstract art to transcend, and the “murals inside the mind” recognizes my previous assertion that abstract art is a reflection of your own intents.
• Sullivan concludes that abstract art, and specifically No.1 by Jackson Pollock is power in our own interpretations of it. Every different person would have a different response to the beauty of Pollock.

Overall, I liked this blog post. Our individual interpretations of art are fascinating, and go a long way towards discovering our personal perceptions of the world. That being said, I find that art can be excellently created through a variety of means. For some reason, while staring at this piece of art for over 45 minutes, I’ve slowly begun to tap my foot to “Marrakesh Express” by Crosby, Stills & Nash. I think it has to do with the large amount of yellow within the painting. The yellow made me think of the most yellow song that I could easily recollect, Marrakesh Express. If you desire to improve your mood tonight, you should definitely check out this piece of musical brilliance by Crosby, Stills & Nash.

 

 

A Painting of Hamlet

Daniel Maclise. The Play Scene in “Hamlet,” 1842 is a watercolor painting that depicts the play scene from Hamlet. The painting can be found here. I believe that the painting depicts the following scene. 

Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters

Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King’s ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love

Exeunt

OPHELIA

What means this, my lord?

HAMLET

Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.

OPHELIA

Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
Enter Prologue

It is difficult to see, but within the painting Claudius is looking away, and Hamlet is crouching in anticipation. I think this captures Claudius’ inability to face his actions. He still feels guilty for killing his brother, and he must hide his emotions from those around him.

On the other side, Hamlet’s ideas are finally clicking into place, and he is ready to pounce on the guilt-ed Claudius. The eagerness of Hamlet is descriptive of his life to me. Hidden away in his life of Royalty, he has turned upon Claudius with an incredible urge. This painting clearly depicts him as the hunter of Claudius.

I think that the whiteness of Opheilia is representative of society, and its obsession with whiteness. She is the portrait of purity that would be becoming of one who a prince would court. Her purity contrasts with the craziness that descends upon her at the end of her life.

Overall, I am entranced by this painting, and think it accurately captures the many faceted work that Shakespeare created in Hamlet.