Why the end of a quarter should converge about the same time as a holiday always seemed wrong to me. “You’ll all be playing this weekend,” said my professor. Playing? Nevertheless I was forced to take a break last night. I should have put that large canvas on an easel (never mind that I didn’t have one) to spare my back instead of crawling around on the concrete garage floor.
The assignment this week is to paint a 3×3 canvas of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 23, to a musical score that we deem appropriate and then write a short paper tying the poem, music, color harmonies, and composition together. For those of you who have stood in front of a blank canvas at some time in your life you know this can be somewhat intimidating.
I started with finding a translation of the poem:
As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O’ercharg’d with burthen of mine own love’s might.
O! let my looks be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express’d.
O! learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.
–William Shakespeare
then selected the score—Adagio sostenuto from Piano Concerto No.2, Rachmaninoff—which took a few hours, then decided on the color harmony, a tetrad.



Here’s a corner of it:




















