the art of poetry

We were Boys Once, and Young

We watched the horizon Claim the sun, Trying to remember How it felt to be young.

I closed my eyes — And I was thirteen. \Would anything ever Feel the same as that seemed?

Now, the seaside Has ceased its play, The glistening blue Turned to grey, And we, who were boys once Leave slowly, away. Self-portrait

Scene at Holly Beach was painted in 1895 by Thomas Pollock Anshutz, an American artist noted for his portraiture and scene paintings. Anshutz was also noted for his teaching and leadership at the Pennsylvania Academy of Art, where he was considered one of the most influential teachers of his generation. In 1892 he retired (having replaced Thomas Eakins in 1886 as head of drawing and painting) and bought a summer residence in Holly beach at the Jersey shore. There, he focused on watercolors, producing what many consider his best work, including the painting featured here. In a letter to his brother in 1893, he said, “I feel very anxious to make a living outside of teaching and see no better scheme than to go to Holly beach, New Jersey, and turn out a lot of watercolor pictures of the seashore.”

I love how he captured the luminous quality of the light at the shore — and the natural innocence of the young boys, which gave rise to my poem, We Were Boys Once and Young. Ironically, Anshutz is portraying these two boys naked, the very thing that got his teacher, Thomas Eakins, expelled from the Academy in a scandal sparked by his use of a fully naked male model in front of his female painting class. He was charged with “conduct unworthy of a gentleman and discreditable to this organization." In addition to not defending his mentor, he signed the letter of expulsion — and was promptly promoted to Eakins’ position. n

David Stoller has had a career spanning law, private equity, and entrepreneurial leadership. He was a partner and co-head of Milbank Tweed and led various companies in law, insurance, live entertainment, and the visual arts. David is an active art collector and founder of River Arts Press, which published a collection of his poetry, Finding My Feet

Caroline Gibson

It took me decades to understand the magic of photography. At first I thought the magic sourced from the medium, so I studied light, lens, and wet darkroom craft. Then it dawned on me that the photographers I admired photographed certain things. Without meaning to, I searched for those things as if they were touchstones on the path to enlightenment. Eventually, I stumbled across my blind spot. I had been thinking of photographers apart from their subjects. Great photographers were keen observers, this I could see in their work, yet I had pictured them at a remove. I had thought an interesting life just happened to parade in front of their cameras.

Now I know that parade is no accident. These photographers were not fortunate bystanders - they chose to be involved. Events we see in their photographs would not have happened absent the photographers’ presence. The photographers were partisans, collaborators, facilitators, chal- lengers, antagonists, lovers, and muses to their subjects. Moreover, the photographers had agency. They made things happen. Photography is a bridge connecting photographers to the people and things they photograph. Magic sources not from medium, but from what transpires because of the photographer’s engagement.

Artist Caroline Gibson needed publicity pictures to promote an upcoming show, so she stopped by one evening for me to photograph her work. Somewhat casually, we created a studio in my living room. As we began to photograph, an unexpected momentum built. She continuously brought out new pieces, and I kept pace by unpacking more equipment. Soon, we had cluttered all of our space with both art and camera gear. I shot more film than I intended, and in ways she didn’t need. My compositions began to include more of Linny. Only later did we realize that we had made a portrait. n