Tuesday, May 03, 2005

petra

So you’ve probably heard about the huge Petra exhibit that Calvin is hosting.  Petra is everywhere… “Taste Petra,” “See Petra,” “Dig Petra,” “Dance Petra”... well, I’m lucky enough to be able to “Write Petra.”

This past Friday, my poetry writing class met by the box office of the Petra exhibit.  The English department covered the ticket prices, I think, and we were able to go through the exhibit during class.  (Though my friend Sarah and I agreed: fifty minutes isn’t nearly long enough.)

Our professor asked us to take notes on at least four of the pieces we saw (although my notebook filled up with more than just four)—detailed notes.  A sketch, examples of terminology used with the piece, a written description, and then whatever our imagination led us to.  It really made me look at things differently (as well as longer), and all of a sudden every pot, ring, and stone figure held a story.

So our poetry exercise due on Friday is to write a poem about one of the pieces we saw—addressing the piece in the poem.  I’m writing about a decorative incense altar that I stared at for ages.  It’s not even one of my “favorites,” so to speak.  But I was caught by how the figure on the side of the altar was still very clear—all except his face.  And I thought about the fierce gods that these people served—this altar was dedicated to their storm god, Qaws (see, I did take good notes!)—and I kept thinking about how the worship of a demanding and unloving god (not to mention a false one) would literally wipe out the face and identity of the worshiper.

Well, obviously I need to work on saying that better, but I think that’s what my poem will be about on Friday.  “To the Man on the Altar.”

But there were so many other things that caught my attention—scorpion rings, huge stone faces bigger than my torso, an eagle gripping a snake, a large vase with panthers sipping from it on either side…

Once, I was bending down to look closer at a ring.  The sign said it was a child’s ring—brilliant red and gold, with a figure of a goddess in it.  As I stood up, I caught my face in the glass, and it matched up with the reflection of a line of stone faces behind me.  So there were five stone faces, eyes and mouths open, and then this darkened little face much nearer, and it took me a second to see that it was mine.  Then I started laughing, to see my face framed by all those solemn stone ones.

Anyway.  You have to see it for yourself.

Calvin students each get one free ticket to see the exhibition, and I found out that the poetry class tickets didn’t count for that.  Lucky me!  So I’ll be going again soon—with the end of the year, everything is “soon” now!  But there were whole rooms that I had to just dash through, so I’m looking forward to getting to see those. —jl

Posted by Jenn Langefeld on 05/03 at 12:07 PM
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