Edouard Manet's Portrait of a Lady

This is a collaboration with the poet Ma8grets3weaknesses. The catalyst was our mutual love for the Impressionist Period in Art which started in France in the mid-1800’s. One of the movement’s earliest and most famous proponents was Edouard Manet and we decided his painting “The Portrait of a Lady” would be the inspiration for our first endeavor; it is easily accessed on the internet. Manet painted many portraits (several of them nudes) and most of his models were well-known: his wife, his lovers, professional models and fellow artists. But he also painted women he merely glimpsed on the streets of Paris which may explain why the model in our painting remains, to our knowledge, un-named to this day. Our poem has two characters: Manet and the unknown lady; the setting is mid-morning in Paris where the newly famous painter is out walking; as he moves along the Champs-Elysees, his eyes alight on a young woman walking towards him. He is struck by her beauty, she is floored by his audacity – and this is where we started writing.

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The Lady:
His artist’s eyes seared my soul, unblinking,
The painter (and roué,) Manet…hunting,
Seeking his next muse, but more, his next prey,
Immortalized lover…on full display.
We step ever closer into the fray,
I hold my resolve, I must not be swayed
By the naked desire in his dark eyes,
Nor promised rapture in his devil’s smile.
His heated stare rakes me from head to toe.
He wants more than to paint me, this I know.
I gather my strength and I veer away,
Freedom lies across the Champs-Elysees.
With one last smile, beneath Paris sky blue,
I turn away, whis’pring, “Adieu, M’sieur.”

The Painter:
Strolling down the Champs-Elysees
I saw a lovely ingénue
A fresh face for a portrait
Or perchance…a dalliance?

Fashionably dressed and well-groomed,
Chestnut hair coiled under a jaunty hat,
A curvaceous, alluring figure
More appealing, as I drew nearer.

I imagined posing her,
Undoing her coiffure.
She’ll wear a low-cut bodice
And lean over a balustrade.

As I approached to make advances,
She turned to cross the avenue,
Glancing back, a haughty stare,
Rejecting any overture.

I captured that silhouette
For a portrait I will paint
Of an intriguing, aloof lady,
Her background…a mystery.