THE MOVIE QUEEN and other poems, by Farnham Blair, Puckerbrush Press, 1996, 58 pages, $8.95.

Farnham Blair, a resident of Blue Hill who teaches English at Orono High School, tackles the inspiration behind the artistic process involved in the visual arts in a new collection of poetry titled, “The Movie Queen.”

Blair explores the compositional and textural genius of artists such as Degas, Renoir, and Mapplethorpe. Going beyond the physical details of the photographs and paintings created by these men, Blair examines the intent with which each masterpiece was created and searches each creation for clues to the personalities of the artists.

In “Futurism,” Blair portrays the ever-tightening circle of focus which the visual artist employs as he moves toward an artistic reproduction of his subject:

“…Hurtling past,

the dancer leans back

in a ring of headlong ecstasy.

And, feeling the rush of shared delight,

the artist knows, all at once,

that he must open his vision,

abandon his fearful detachment,

his defensive obsession

with the cold safety of static detail….”

“The Risk of Abstraction” cleverly captures the vulnerability of the visual artist, especially one who deviates from a traditional art form. It is a vulnerability felt by other artists as well — writers, architects, singers, dancers, et al — for in receiving art, we judge it.

“If the canvas bears

no hands, no dress, no face,

no opportunity for measure

by resemblance and custom;

if the work,

rather than a delineation,

is, instead, an evocation,

a scintillant

and unquantifiable vision,

then,

the artist lays himself open

to the deepest criticism,

in which an inadequate

or frustrated viewer

may assess him,

not just for lack of connection

or failure of imagination,

but, ultimately,

for absence of soul.”

The last section of the collection consists of a series of seven poems including the title poem, “The Movie Queen.” Taken together, they document the return to Eastport, Maine, of a local girl turned beauty queen and actress. Humanity is aptly portrayed through the fawning townsfolk who first seek some contact with this image of big-city beauty then scurry to the film’s premier in the hopes of seeing their own images on the silver screen:

“…Tomorrow,

no matter the whiteness of the Queen’s dress,

the townspeople who throng the Union Theatre,

will really come to see

their own faces,

not hers….”

More intriguing than an art history course, Blair’s poems take their readers in hand through a consideration of what makes art. It’s a fascinating approach to the question.