Monday, July 28, 2014

...a visit to Yaddo in Saratoga, NY State...24jul14...

Yaddo (yeah dough) is an artist colony that was bequeathed (through a trust) to future artists to use the grounds as a place of contemplation and collaboration, it is located near the Saratoga Race Track in Upstate New York.  The estate was given over by Spencer and Katrina Trask, he a venerable financier and she an author.


Walking the grounds does induce in the spirit of the artist a sense of contemplation.  It is far from overly showy, and instead is conducive to the temperament of those that are taking the inward journey necessary to create their art.  The grounds lack contradiction - with a wide open lawn, several fountains, marble benches and statuary that set a fixed gaze on order.

 

The natural font (the picture of the mound of rock below) allows for a gentle sound of falling water, proving the contemplative attributes of rain as it falls softly on the rounded stones below.  From it, it runs down a small rivulet.  The rounded cup of water hosting a small nymph playing lithely under the shadows of the thin trees. Overlooking this is a small plant of blue Harebell.

There are koi.  There is a small lake that does not allow fishing, so I could only imagine the creatures lurking in its muddy depths.

   




One could imagine the footfalls of so many authors as they walked alone around these gardens for months at a time.  It is thought that Poe worked on "The Raven" here.  Some 5,500 artists since its inception have used the grounds to help in their work.  The NY Public Library has archives of some of the material available to view.  There are even rolls by type of media the artist uses, like this roll of writers.

Having just read much of Sylvia Plath's poetry in Manhattan, I was pleasantly surprised by my Aunt Pam's insistence on visiting here.  Then, seeing that Edith Wharton spent time here as well, I was induced to purchase The Touchstone at Albany Airport.  I was captivated all the way home by the novella and finished it by the time I touched back down at John Wayne.

"Thin as ferns and fronds,
The woodland settles down,
Drowned in that still pool,
Where stars will stream and drown"
- The Lake, Edith Wharton (at Yaddo)

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