Victoria Standing outside the McNay Museum in San Antonio, Texas, is a stainless-steel sculpture by American artist Philip Grausman (born 1935). She is titled Victoria, a woman’s head elevated on a long slender neck, with a face of mystery. The material reflects the sun and weather. She stands near the museum entrance, but used to sit closer to the Austin highway, basking in the curious stares of motorists who had not made her acquaintance.
This year for Poetry Month, I wrote this ekphrastic piece (poetry written about another work of art) after stumbling onto Victoria in person. This ode is a sifting of impressions landing gently after we met.
Victoria, Philip Grausman (1935–). Stainless steel. Courtesy of the McNay Art Museum, San Antonio, Texas.
Victoria, Venus of Virtues
Victoria meets the morning, bright, and brightening
as befits the birth of our daily light, falling first on her with grace.
Her chin, lifted, ready, poised upon her neck as tall and calm as a Texas oak.
Eyes at rest— cradled, both in peace and patient readiness.
Victoria meets the molten midday, proud figurehead of our spinning orb,
she leads our gently musing thoughts through her artful garden of cares.
The noon sun, greeted as brother, met shine for shine, steady in shade or shadow.
Married to moody weather, sibling seasons, mothering tempest and mirth.
She is constant in reveries, our secrets are her secrets, safe and settling.
She hears our inner speech, knows our true worth, smiles at our company.
She converses with silence, knows our presence, our absence, waits for our return.
We can carry her, and she us, and once met, can be found anywhere, comes when called.
Victoria meets the mysteries of our midnight, solemn, sleepless sentinel
safeguarding our dark denizens of wishes, prayers, plans and dreams
that steps us back to the start of another steep climb of moon to sun again.
Victoria guides us, steady star-watcher, secure, our constellation’s gem, our earthy touchstone.
~~~~~~~~~~~