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Guess Who (by artist's works!) > Knot up the filmy strands of golden hair (Ingres)

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message 1: by Dirk (new)

Dirk Van | 2697 comments Knot up the filmy strands of golden hair
That veil your breast, yet leave its beauties bare;
In decent ripples backward let it flow,
Smooth-parted sideways from your placid brow.




message 3: by Dirk (new)

Dirk Van | 2697 comments Not Vermeer Carol, this is more recent.


message 4: by Heather, Moderator (new)

Heather | 8272 comments Artemisia Gentileschi


message 5: by Heather, Moderator (new)

Heather | 8272 comments No, I guess she isn’t more recent. Nevermind.


message 6: by Dirk (new)

Dirk Van | 2697 comments Indeed not Artemisia Gentileschi, Heather.
I checked it and she was almost 40 years old when Vermeer was born.


message 7: by Dirk (new)

Dirk Van | 2697 comments As first hint let me tell you something about the painting above.

On the left a famous Italian artist who is offered the hand of the niece of the man in the middle, a cardinal. The artist is reluctant to accept this offer because he is in love with another woman.
But to refuse would offend the cardinal, a powerful and wealthy man, so he accepts. He manages to postpone the wedding a couple of times and by the time of his death (aged 37), the couple was still not married.


message 8: by Connie (new)

Connie G (connie_g) | 360 comments Ingres?


message 9: by Dirk (new)

Dirk Van | 2697 comments Yes! you'v got it Connie!

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres.
And the artist in the painting is Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino or simply: Raphael.


Self portrait


Another self portrait


Again Raphael, this time with his model and secret love.








message 10: by Dirk (new)

Dirk Van | 2697 comments The poem was also about Raphael talking to his model:

Knot up the filmy strands of golden hair
That veil your breast, yet leave its beauties bare;
In decent ripples backward let it flow,
Smooth-parted sideways from your placid brow.
Unclasp the clinging necklace from your throat,
And let thus misty veil about you float,
As round the seraphs of my visons swim
Daint, roseate clouds to make their radiance dim
And bearable to dazzled human eyes,
Uplifted in a rapture of surprise.
Lay off your armlets now, and cover up
With dark blue folds that shoulder’s dimpled slope;
Let naught appear to woo the grosser sense,
But ruling calm, and sacred innocence;
Subdue the pointed twinkle of your eye
into a level, large serenity,
(Now comes the test) and let your mouth awhile
be pressed into a gaint, ascetic smile,
A pure reflection of the inward thought,
A chastened glow fires celestial caught.

(1878 - Edith Wharton)


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