Salem |
I have borrowed for the title one of my fave poems by Emily Dickinson A charm invests a face.
Cara
Del lat. vulg. cara, y este del gr. κάρα kára 'cabeza', 'rostro'.
1. f. Parte anterior de la cabeza humana desde el principio de la
frente hasta la punta de la barbilla.
Rostro
Del lat. rostrum 'pico1', 'hocico'.
Retrato
Del it. ritratto.
I have photographed at the very least 600 beautiful women in my photographic life not counting the countless photographs I have shot of my Rosemary, daughters and granddaughters. And I am not considering female lawyers, female actors and politicians.
Because I am bilingual (a bit more since I speak both an Argentine Spanish and a Mexican one) I like to think of words in both English and Spanish. As a portrait photographer (I buy postcards when I have the urge to shoot a landscape or a sunset) my fascination has been always with the face. I marvel how two eyes, one nose and one mouth (and perhaps two ears) can have such a variety and how I never tire at looking at faces.
On a rainy and cold Vancouver afternoon I like to go through my files to look for a face photograph I may have overlooked in the past. Because I live alone with two cats and I am 79 I have, I believe, time to waste until oblivion beckons.
So Spanish for face is cara and the best on-line dictionary around, I believe, is that of the Real Academia Española (RAE), it informs me that the word comes from the Vulgate Latin cara and that from the Greek kára which means head.
This is interesting if you think of flipping a coin. In English it is heads or tails. In Argentina and in Spain it is cara or cruz (cross) and in Mexico because it involves a very Mexican coin it is Águila o sol. The one peso coin used to have an eagle on one side and the sun on the other.
Returning to the RAE the definition for that lovely synonym for cara in Spanish rostro I was amazed to find out that the word from Latin means snout.
Retrato (portrait) is from the Italian rittrato.
As a portrait photographer I have long known that what I think I see in a person’s face is usually what the person wants me to see. There is then no real accurate portrait. Even if you shoot a person unawares the face is only a coating of the soul or spirit.
Perhaps I can one day persuade Bard on the Beach Artistic
Director Christopher Gaze to pose for me and with tight face shots I want to
suddenly say, “Hamlet,” “Romeo”,”or “Lear.” Could he pull it off ? I think he
can. How about,"Lady Macbeth?"
All the above is a prelude.
Preludion
Del lat. mediev. praeludium, der. del lat. praeludĕre 'preludiar'.
It is a prelude of a portrait I had not noticed until today that I took of my often photographic subject Salem who in the last century I photographed for 5 years.
A Charm Invests A Face
By Emily Dickinson
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil
For fear it be dispelled.
But peers beyond her mesh,
And wishes, and denies,
'Lest interview annul a want
That image satisfies.
More Emiy Dickinson
A Slash of Blue – Emily Dickinson
I cannot dance upon my Toes
a door just opened on the street
Amber slips away
Sleep
Pink Small and punctual
A slash of blue
I cannot dance upon my toes
Ah little rose
For hold them, blue to blue
The colour of the grave is green
Linda Melsted - the music of the violin does not emerge alone
The Charm invests her face
A sepal, a petal and a thorn
The Savior must have been a docile Gentleman
T were blessed to have seen
There is no frigate like a book
I pay in satin cash
Water makes many beds
The viola da gamba
But sequence ravelled out of reach
A parasol is the umbrella's daughter
Without the power to die
Lessons on the piny
Ample make this bed
How happy is the little stone
The shutting of the eye
I dwell in possibility
when Sappho was a living girl
In a library
A light exists in spring
The lady dare not lift her veil
I took my power in my hand
I find my feet have further goals
I cannot dance upon my toes
The Music of the Violin does not emerge alone
Red Blaze
He touched me, so I live to know
Rear Window- The Entering Takes Away
Said Death to Passion
We Wear the Mask That Grins And Lies
It was not death for I stood alone
The Music in the Violin Does Not Emerge Alone
I tend my flowers for thee
Lavinia Norcross Dickinson
Pray gather me anemone!
Ample make her bed
His caravan of red
Me-come! My dazzled face
Develops pearl and weed
But peers beyond her mesh
Surgeons must be very careful
Water is taught by thirst
I could not prove that years had feet
April played her fiddle
A violin in Baize replaced
I think the longest hour
The spirit lasts
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/03/i-left-them-in-ground-emily-dickinson.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/01/i-felt-my-life-with-both-my-hands.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/currer-bell-emily-dickinson-charlotte.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/and-zero-at-bone-with-dirks-of-melody.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/05/charm-invests-her-face.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/i-could-not-see-to-see.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/blonde-assasin-passes-on.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2012/12/you-almost-bathed-your-tongue.html