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| Max Dupain The Magnolia 1983 gelatin silver print Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Max Dupain Monstera deliciosa 1970 gelatin silver print Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Max Dupain Concrete Support Beams, Sydney Opera House 1962 gelatin silver print Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Max Dupain Untitled (Discus Thrower) 1938 solarised gelatin silver print Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| William-Adolphe Bouguereau Figure of Satyr for painting, Nymphs and Satyr ca. 1873 oil on canvas Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts |
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| William-Adolphe Bouguereau L'Aurore 1881 oil on canvas Birmingham Museum of Art, Alabama |
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| William-Adolphe Bouguereau Monsieur M. 1850 oil on canvas Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena, California |
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| William-Adolphe Bouguereau Young Girl in Profile 1881 oil on canvas North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh |
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| Claude Mellan Portrait of Henriette-Marie de Buade-Frontenac 1641 drawing Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Claude Mellan Portrait of a Man ca. 1640 drawing (print study) Städel Museum, Frankfurt |
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| Claude Mellan Lot and his Daughters 1629 engraving Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel |
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| Claude Mellan Herodias with the Head of John the Baptist ca. 1640 oil on canvas Musée Fabre, Montpellier |
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| Mirko Borsche Written on Skin 2012-13 offset print (poster for Bayerische Staatsoper) Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Mirko Borsche Lucia di Lammermoor 2015 offset print (poster for Bayerische Staatsoper) Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Mirko Borsche Die Frau ohne Schatten 2013 offset print (poster for Bayerische Staatsoper) Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Mirko Borsche Simon Boccanegra 2012-13 offset print (poster for Bayerische Staatsoper) Art Institute of Chicago |
from The Sea and the Mirror
[Prospero to Ariel]:
Now our partnership is dissolved. I feel so peculiar
As if I had been on a drunk since I was born
And suddenly now, and for the first time, am cold sober,
With all my unanswered wishes and unwashed days
Stacked up all around my life; as if through the ages I had dreamed
About some tremendous journey I was taking,
Sketching imaginary landscapes, chasms and cities,
Cold walls, hot spaces, wild mouths, defeated backs,
Jotting down the fictional notes on secrets overheard
In theatres and privies, banks and mountain inns,
And now, in my old age, I wake, and this journey really exists.
And I have actually to take it, inch by inch,
Alone and on foot, without a cent in my pocket,
Through a universe where time is not foreshortened,
No animals talk, and there is neither floating nor flying.
– W.H. Auden (1942-44)