Watching Renoir
At the Morgan,* Renoir’s drawings
And some paintings are displayed,
Including varied studies
Leading up to works he made.
There were several lovely landscapes,
Which I’ve never seen before.
I preferred them to his portraits
And I wish they’d offered more.
Yet to me, what was amazing
Was a film which had no sound,
Which portrayed an older Renoir
Who, by then, though still renowned,
Had severe arthritis in his hands,
His fingers gnarled and bent,
But with brushes strapped onto his wrists,
He’d paint to some extent.
In the movie, which appeared home-made,
An easel waited there
As he dabbed it with his claw-hand,
Though this work he didn’t share.
Still, he glanced up at the camera,
Looking impish and quite pleased,
Maybe showing off his skills despite
The way his bones had seized.
In 1919, Renoir died
And yet we get to see
Such a master at his painting,
Which was quite a thrill to me.
*The Morgan Library and Museum, New York City
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