Friday, June 23, 2017

Early 20th-century Paintings by Five Artists

Alexei von Jawlensky
Woman's face
ca. 1911
oil on cardboard
Gemeentemuseum, The Hague

Alexei von Jawlensky
Portrait of a woman
1912
oil on cardboard
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

Alexei von Jawlensky
Head of a woman
1911
oil on panel
National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh

"The room that Celia had found was in Brewery Road between Pentonville Prison and the Metropolitan Cattle Market.  West Brompton knew them no more.  The room was large and the few articles of furniture it contained were large.  The bed, the gas cooker, the table and the solitary tallboy, all were very large indeed.  Two massive upright unupholstered armchairs, similar to those killed under him by Balzac, made it just possible for them to take their meals seated.  Murphy's rocking-chair trembled by the hearth, facing the window.  The vast floor was covered all over by a linoleum of exquisite design, a dim geometry of blue, grey and brown that delighted Murphy because it called Braque to his mind, and Celia because it delighted Murphy.  Murphy was one of the elect, who require everything to remind them of something else.  The walls were distempered a vivid lemon, Murphy's lucky colour.  This was so far in excess of the squeeze prescribed by Suk that he could not feel quite easy in his mind about it.  The ceiling was lost in the shadows, yes, really lost in the shadows." 

George Bellows
Rock Reef, Maine
1913
oil on panel
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

George Bellows
The Grove, Monhegan
1913
oil on cardboard
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

George Bellows
Pennsylvania Station Excavation
ca. 1907-08
oil on canvas
Brooklyn Museum

"Most of the time that he was out she spent sitting in the rocking-chair with her face to the light.  There was not much light, the room devoured it, but she kept her face turned to what there was.  The small single window condensed its changes, as half-closed eyes see the finer values of tones, so that it was never quiet in the room, but brightening and darkening in a slow ample flicker that went on all day, brightening against the darkening that was its end.  A peristalsis of light, worming its way into the dark."

Vodkin Kuzma Petrov
The Worker
1912
oil on canvas
Malmö Konstmuseum, Sweden

Egon Schiele
Devotion
1913
gouache
Leopold Museum, Vienna

Egon Schiele
Edith with striped dress, sitting
1915
gouache
Leopold Museum, Vienna

Egon Schiele
Portrait of Edith (the artist's wife)
1915
oil on canvas
Gemeentemuseum, The Hague

"The sheep were a miserable-looking lot, dingy, close-cropped, undersized and misshapen.  They were not cropping, they were not ruminating, they did not even seem to be taking their ease.  They simply stood, in an attitude of profound dejection, their heads bowed, swaying slightly as though dazed.  Murphy had never seen stranger sheep, they seemed one and all on the point of collapse.  They made the exposition of Wordsworth's lovely "fields of sleep" as a compositor's error for "fields of sheep" seem no longer a jibe at that most excellent man.  They had not the strength to back away from Miss Dew approaching with the lettuce."  

George Bellows
The Sand Cart
1917
oil on canvas
Brooklyn Museum

George Bellows
The Barricade
1918
oil on canvas
(World War I anti-German propaganda painting)
Birmingham Museum of Art, Alabama

George Bellows
Nude with Fan
1920
oil on canvas
North Carolina Museum of Art

Julio Romero de Torres
Panel
1912
oil on canvas
Fundación Banco Santander, Madrid

"Mr. Endon was a schizophrenic of the most amiable variety, at least for the purposes of such a humble and envious outsider as Murphy.  The languor in which he passed his days, while deepening every now and then to the extent of some charming suspension of gesture, was never so profound as to inhibit all movement.  His inner voice did not harangue him, it was unobtrusive and melodious, a gentle continuo in the whole consort of his hallucinations.  The bizarrerie of his attitudes never exceeded a stress laid on their grace.  In short, a psychosis so limpid and imperturbable that Murphy felt drawn to it as Narcissus to his fountain."  

 quoted passages from Murphy (1938) by Samuel Beckett