Art: Flanders Fields by Karen Dover
There Is Some Beginning
Frame
There is some beginning, and I cried into darkness–a newborn star into space. And, as I was cast out to
rest among numbers and angles of description, I was distant like a source of abstraction–like points of a
stellar body resting on an ancient and heavy crown, like what a self is–travelling so far from its original
frame…
There is some beginning, and I cry tears (up) into darkness–a newborn star disappearing into dark
And, as I tossed myself into the field, I called for a destiny: to rise with the victor, expand with the hero:
to hear the day of song’s unwinding, those simple healing tunes. Yet, gone from my crib. I find I’m no
longer… twin to myself. Where, then, is hope of my healing–how might I return to that…
frame…
There is some beginning, eyes embroidering fields, the pool does not wish to die. However, it is water
that’s forever, flowing water-like through every specific and all implied therefrom–one way or
another…pointing back to a very start: from darkness, I cried. The question is into what and to which…
frame…
There is some beginning. Yet, there is no longer is–but is also–and also one and every…Two: going
across the fence, I thought there would be some other domain–another yard…at least…a different
family with their own little story…However, this is not what I found. In fact, I discovered actual
difference to also be almost impossible…for the is is also: one and every…the only question being…and,
perhaps, which manner the…
About the author:
Alex Duensing. Graduate of William Paterson and Columbia? Yes. Ran for St. Petersburg, FL City Council? Yes. Won? No. Stopped Mayan Apocalypse on rooftop with performance art? Yup. Strange but nice fellow? Clearly. Able to create mechanical engines that run completely on the energy a person creates while appreciating a painting? On occasion.
About the art:
Flanders Fields
At first glance, we intuitively recognize the symbolic character of the red poppies, loftily blowing freely in the breeze, even the nodding of the ethereal white flower-heads, evoking a feeling of freedom and peace. Like the poem, it begins gently…
At closer inspection, the deeper layers subtly unveil. Chromatically, we sense the nautical reference to the classic Normand blue of the Nord-Pas-de-Calais département of French Flanders; the triad of proud red, bright white and bold blue of the France, the geographic location of Flanders Fields, which straddle the border with Belgium; the evolution of the colours of the blood flowing liberally, the precious fluid clotting as it pools around the muddy clay clumps, intermingling with the sodden earth, the deep bruising of the roiling soil, admixing with the heady purple and black blood clots of the fallen. The chaos and violence, the ubiquitous metallic scent, and the erratic field contours in the aftermath of the battle are easily palpable in the texture and sheen of the artwork’s surface.
In all its horror, ‘Flanders Fields’ still emanates hope and beauty, an elegant dignity, and a determination to remember those who sacrificed their lives in the name of honour, not unlike the poem by First World War Canadian officer and surgeon, John McRae.
In the artist’s words:
Dr. Karen J Dover M.D. is an authority on aesthetics, the study of beauty, which is best achieved at that magical meeting point, the pinnacle of art and science. She has devoted most of her energy to the discovery, exploration and creation of beauty in her lifelong pursuit of excellence in medicine and surgery, photography, ceramic sculpture, mixed-media and motherhood.
