Upon entering, I was agog at the beautiful cast aluminum doors and grill work, the colorful marble and stone that enhanced the Art Deco effect of this 1934 renovated former Nashville post office. We purchased a glass of wine in the museum cafe and took our seats in the auditorium to hear Dr. Mark Roglan give background information on the history of the Alba family and its treasures.
An ancient Spanish noble family, its heritage includes paintings from the Renaissance to the 20th century as well as magnificent tapestries from the three palaces owned by the Albas and documents from the hand of Christopher Columbus. We had quickly roamed through the gallery prior to the lecture to get a glimpse of the collection. Impressed, I resolved to bring my daughter-in-law Pat and granddaughter Molly to view the various art and historical objects when they came for a visit the following month.
It was during the lecture that I gained more information about the iconic portrait that graced all the advertising about the collection, "The Duchess of Alba in White" by Francisco de Goya, painted in 1795. She was the 13th Duchess, whose character and looks seemed to have taken hold of Goya, who painted and sketched her many times. I, too, became fascinated with her history, and bought a couple of books about her, so on my second trip to the museum, when we were fortunate to get in on a docent-led tour. Later, I wrote the following poem to remember the fascinating portrait and speculate on the relationship between those two people.
The Duchess and the Painter
The Duchess of Alba in White
Francisco de Goya
Wear virginal white, he requested,
for your marriage at age twelve.
She agreed and found a plain gown
unlike her usual lavish dress.
The painter wrapped a scarlet sash
around her waist and tucked a bow
into the nimbus of black hair to show
her life of play and passion.
On one arm bracelets of gold
call up great wealth she claimed.
No drawing room is her background
But behind her are the Spanish plains.
At her feet a red ribboned dog
sweetly echoes her bright palette
and suggests the childless state
of this woman in her fourth decade.
Some might think her high arched brows
express disdain for those beneath her.
Still, her eyes, so dark and drooping,
have a sadness unconcealed.
In all the portraits, even sketches
Goya gives her a sober mien.
Perhaps her pleasures begin to pale,
and her lovers are found wanting.
Yet he may also depict a portent
that they both can sense unspoken.
For six years later flesh would fail
and she died in mystery.
Did the painter really love her
and she him as rumors say,
or had he served just to interpret
with a prescience for all time?