The impressionist piece depicts New York City at the dawn of the 20th century as a peaceful, inviting place bustling with activity and a rising skyline. The following comes from a note about the painting in Sotheby's catalog:
Constance Kimmerle writes of this picture, "Although Redfield portrays Brooklyn in Brooklyn Bridge at Night as an inviting peaceful environment, he also fills the scene with references to its bustling activity as boats stream along the river, headlights of cars imply movement across the bridge, and lights in the buildings suggest a vibrant environment. What might have been portrayed by other artists as a seedy environment becomes for Redfield a romantic, dynamic scene as lines and shapes are softened under the glow of diminishing light. The scene's enticing quality contrasts with some of the more harsh views of the city painted contemporaneously by members of The Eight, a group of progressive painters led unofficially by Robert Henri, who rejected the genteel style and subject matter promoted by the National Academy of Design" (Edward Redfield: Fine Values and Just Seeing, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 2004, p. 34).
Source: http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/eca ... ot.12.html
Given the magic that the piece captures, it's no wonder that so many YWSers were inspired by it. In total, we received 37 submissions, which our judges (@Lavvie, @Sweater, and @Carlito) pored over. Each submitted their top 4 picks, and although there were many differences in each judge's picks, three works stood out.
Without further ado, please congratulate the following writers!
Third Place
Between the raindrops on my window by @Sevro
Spoiler
She stood clutching the metal cable. Her charcoal-gray converse blended in with the wide metal barrier she had climbed onto. Tears ran down her face and mixed with the rain. It was coming down in sheets. Wave after wave of droplets collided with her body, soaking her clothes and separating her hair into defined strands that whipped across her face with the wind. Her hand trembled violently as she pulled it from the cable to swipe her long, brown hair off her forehead. She stared into the dark waters, which were writhing nearly 300 feet below her.
Her left hand dangled limply by her side. Her other hand still grasped the thick cable, one of many that kept the Brooklyn Bridge from plummeting into the East River. She was young, too young to be standing on the edge of a bridge in the middle of the night. Her eyes, however, held the depth of someone who had seen the ugly parts of the world and couldn't quite cope with it.
The girl's face twisted in agony, partially from physical pain, but mostly from the torture of a stalemate between two halves of herself. She bared her teeth and clenched her jaw tight. Her knees were weak with fatigue. She clawed into the depths of her mind, searching for something, anything that was worth living for. She came up empty. Her chest heaved with shaky sobs. As she drew in a long breath, her rib cage expanded with a beautiful defiance. She wasn't going to let the darkness that drove her to this bridge continue to plague her soul. She lifted her chin to look at the twinkling city lights. Brooklyn always looked nicer at night, when the Sun had turned its back on the dirty streets and crime-ridden alleyways. It wouldn't be the worst way to go. Where else could she get a view like this?
As she stepped off the bridge, the ends of her hair hung suspended above her head, before the building momentum yanked them out of sight.
Between the raindrops on my window, I watched the darkness take her from my sight.
I drove by, and my headlights abandoned her.
Her left hand dangled limply by her side. Her other hand still grasped the thick cable, one of many that kept the Brooklyn Bridge from plummeting into the East River. She was young, too young to be standing on the edge of a bridge in the middle of the night. Her eyes, however, held the depth of someone who had seen the ugly parts of the world and couldn't quite cope with it.
The girl's face twisted in agony, partially from physical pain, but mostly from the torture of a stalemate between two halves of herself. She bared her teeth and clenched her jaw tight. Her knees were weak with fatigue. She clawed into the depths of her mind, searching for something, anything that was worth living for. She came up empty. Her chest heaved with shaky sobs. As she drew in a long breath, her rib cage expanded with a beautiful defiance. She wasn't going to let the darkness that drove her to this bridge continue to plague her soul. She lifted her chin to look at the twinkling city lights. Brooklyn always looked nicer at night, when the Sun had turned its back on the dirty streets and crime-ridden alleyways. It wouldn't be the worst way to go. Where else could she get a view like this?
As she stepped off the bridge, the ends of her hair hung suspended above her head, before the building momentum yanked them out of sight.
Between the raindrops on my window, I watched the darkness take her from my sight.
I drove by, and my headlights abandoned her.
Second Place
I've finally crossed over by @SecreteJournalist
Spoiler
i.
At the entrance to
the bridge, I stood pondering
if I should return.
ii.
I took my first step,
letting the light guide me to
a new beginning.
iii.
At the end of the
bridge, a lady stood with arms
outstretched in greeting.
At the entrance to
the bridge, I stood pondering
if I should return.
ii.
I took my first step,
letting the light guide me to
a new beginning.
iii.
At the end of the
bridge, a lady stood with arms
outstretched in greeting.
First Place
Nocturnal Lights by @Kaos
Spoiler
I
The headlights of nocturnal vehicles form a train;
a conga line of people still awake.
M̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶d̶r̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶d̶g̶e̶,̶ ̶
̶I̶'̶d̶ ̶d̶r̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶l̶i̶q̶u̶o̶r̶.̶
Somehow I think that the scarlet railing
will protect me from driving off the edge.
The truck behind me is right on my tail,
forcing me to keep going.
II
Mother told me angels lived atop the cell towers,
their platforms flat where they stood and watched.
Out the car window, I try and see if anyone was up there.
All I see is a speck of blinking light,
steady like a heartbeat.
III
A lady on a motorcycle pulls in front of me,
her tire tracks leave a faint mark in my mind.
A checkpoint.
She made it seem like I was back in his living room
immersed into some generic racing game playing time trials.
I̶'̶m̶ ̶r̶u̶n̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶.̶
̶G̶o̶.̶ ̶
R̶u̶s̶h̶.̶ ̶
H̶u̶r̶r̶y̶.̶
IV
He and I
connected by a bridge, two cellphones,
and a cell tower.
The exasperated grunting and clanging of metal bars
screams from my phone.
Paperclips deemed useless
when it's all going to just fall apart.
Like an angel atop a cell tower,
I want to catch him before he falls.
The headlights of nocturnal vehicles form a train;
a conga line of people still awake.
M̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶I̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶d̶r̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶d̶g̶e̶,̶ ̶
̶I̶'̶d̶ ̶d̶r̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶l̶i̶q̶u̶o̶r̶.̶
Somehow I think that the scarlet railing
will protect me from driving off the edge.
The truck behind me is right on my tail,
forcing me to keep going.
II
Mother told me angels lived atop the cell towers,
their platforms flat where they stood and watched.
Out the car window, I try and see if anyone was up there.
All I see is a speck of blinking light,
steady like a heartbeat.
III
A lady on a motorcycle pulls in front of me,
her tire tracks leave a faint mark in my mind.
A checkpoint.
She made it seem like I was back in his living room
immersed into some generic racing game playing time trials.
I̶'̶m̶ ̶r̶u̶n̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶.̶
̶G̶o̶.̶ ̶
R̶u̶s̶h̶.̶ ̶
H̶u̶r̶r̶y̶.̶
IV
He and I
connected by a bridge, two cellphones,
and a cell tower.
The exasperated grunting and clanging of metal bars
screams from my phone.
Paperclips deemed useless
when it's all going to just fall apart.
Like an angel atop a cell tower,
I want to catch him before he falls.
Congrats to all!
