The Art Zoo

A poem by the great Derek Walcott

The time will come  when, with elation  you will greet yourself arriving  at your own door, in your own mirror  and each will smile at the other’s welcome, 

and say, sit here. Eat.  You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart  to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored  for…

Minnows, Darter, Sturgeon

By Albert Goldbarth

That there’s a fun in funeral is goofus etymology, but a sensible reminder of the secret life in everything… how inside dear is deer and, inside that, the Sanskrit: “falls to dust and perishes.” If we could hold a word against our ear, like a shell, we’d hear its sea— churning in its belly, the size of blood in a mosquito.

The way inside us is the genome’s part of its ongoing

By Sharon Olds

When I say, to my mother, What was a good thing about me as a child?, my mother’s face seems to unfurl from the center, hibiscus in fast motion, the anthers and flounces spring out with joy. Oh you were enchanting, she breathes. What do you mean crazy? No sense of reality? No-no, she laughs, with many little notes half a scale, plus grace notes-I don’t know how to say it, you were…

“I see Castro’s entire body of work as a series of breadcrumbs scattered across a forest floor. For some, hundreds of tiny pieces of old stale bread is hardly worth noticing, while others are able to discover within a trail of detritus a path towards something not yet known. It this within this tension between the known and unknown that de Castro’s works generously offer the alchemical potential…

In his work, #JohnBaldessari continually challenges notions of beauty and disregards conventional rules of what is "right" and "wrong" when it comes to art.

In his work, John Baldessari continually challenges notions of beauty and disregards conventional rules of what is “right” and “wrong” when it comes to art –his piece Wrong comes to mind, a photograph in which he purposefully defies the rules of photography and composition. His artwork urges the viewer to question these rules, for example in his series Choosing (A Game for Two Players), where he…

Marcela’s Speech

In this passage from Cervantes’ Don Quixote, the beautiful shepherdess, Marcela, gives a captivating speech defending a woman’s right to choose her own lifestyle after she is blamed for the suffering and death of Grisóstomo, who killed himself when she rejected him:

You all say that heaven made me beautiful, so much so that this beauty of mine, with a force you can’t resist, makes you love me;…

Olafur Eliasson‘s installation in the Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern:

The Weather Project, Olafur Eliasson, 2003. Photo by Dan Chung

The Weather Project, Olafur Eliasson, 2003.

“In this installation, The Weather Project,representations of the sun and sky dominate the expanse of the Turbine Hall. A fine mist permeates the space, as if creeping in from the environment outside. Throughout the day,…

Sharon Millar is a Trinidadian writer who published her first book The Whale House and Other Stories (Peepal Tree Press) last year. She is one of my favourite local writers, I am sure you will understand after reading the following passage, three extracts from her short story Earl Grey:

Sally is coming to tea, she is not arriving until four but Leah is nervous that she won’t have everything…

By Carlos Drummond de Andrade

From everything a little remained. From my fear. From your disgust. From stifled cries. From the rose a little remained.

A little remained of light caught inside the hat. In the eyes of the pimp a little remained of tenderness, very little.

A little remained of the dust that covered your white shoes. Of your clothes a little remained, a few velvet rags, very very few.

By Adelia Prado

On one occasion, my father painted the whole house a brilliant orange. We lived for a long time in a house, as he said himself, eternally dawning.

Sun on the Easel. Giorgio de Chirico. 1968.

Extract from The Invitation by Barry Lopez as published in the last issue of Granta (n. 133), a thoughtful meditation on language and seeing:

“When I was young, and just beginning to travel with them, I imagined that indigenous people saw more and heard more, that they were overall simply more aware than I was. They were more aware, and did see and hear more than I did. The absence of spoken…