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| Joan Brown Flora 1961 oil on canvas Crocker Art Museum, Sacramento, California |
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| Joan Brown Girl in Chair 1962 oil on canvas Los Angeles County Museum of Art |
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| Joan Brown Noel on a Pony with Cloud 1963 oil on canvas Phoenix Art Museum, Arizona |
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| Joan Brown The Journey #1 1976 enamel on canvas San Jose Museum of Art, California |
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| Robert Hannaford Self Portrait 1966 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Robert Hannaford Self Portrait ca. 1980 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Robert Hannaford Self Portrait with Anatomical Studies ca. 1969 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Robert Hannaford Self Portrait 1969 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Ivor Hele Self Portrait ca. 1935 oil on canvas Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Ivor Hele Self Portrait ca. 1959 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Ivor Hele Artist's Wife Reading ca. 1960 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| Ivor Hele Artist at Work 1929 drawing Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
-Newport-Mansions-Preservation-Society-Rhode-Island.jpg) |
| Staffordshire Potteries Basket and Stand ca. 1805 glazed earthenware (creamware) Newport Mansions Preservation Society, Rhode Island |
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| Staffordshire Potteries Teapot and Creamer ca. 1930 glazed earthenware (commissioned by Cunard Steamship Lines) Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto |
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| Staffordshire Potteries Teapot ca. 1745 salt-glazed stoneware Newport Mansions Preservation Society, Rhode Island |
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| Staffordshire Potteries Vase with Dolphins ca. 1790 glazed earthenware (pearlware) Newport Mansions Preservation Society, Rhode Island |
from The Sea and the Mirror
Gonzalo:
Evening, grave, immense, and clear,
Overlook our ship whose wake
Lingers undistorted on
Sea and silence; I look back
For the last time as the sun
Sets behind that island where
All our loves were altered: yes,
My prediction came to pass,
Yet I am not justified,
And I weep but not with pride.
Not in me the credit for
Words I uttered long ago
Whose glad meaning I betrayed;
Truths to-day admitted, owe
Evening, grave, immense, and clear,
Overlook our ship whose wake
Lingers undistorted on
Sea and silence; I look back
For the last time as the sun
Sets behind that island where
All our loves were altered: yes,
My prediction came to pass,
Yet I am not justified,
And I weep but not with pride.
Not in me the credit for
Words I uttered long ago
Whose glad meaning I betrayed;
Truths to-day admitted, owe
Nothing to the councillor
In whose booming eloquence
Honesty became untrue.
Am I not Gonzalo who
By his self-reflection made
Consolation an offence?
There was nothing to explain:
Had I trusted the Absurd
And straightforward note by note
Sung exactly what I heard,
Such immediate delight
Would have taken there and then
Our common welkin by surprise,
All would have begun to dance
Jigs of self-deliverance.
It was I prevented this,
Jealous of my native ear,
Mine the art which made the song
Sound ridiculous and wrong,
I whose interference broke
The gallop into jog-trot prose
And by speculation froze
Vision into an idea,
Irony into a joke,
Till I stood convicted of
Doubt and insufficient love.
Farewell, dear island of our wreck:
In whose booming eloquence
Honesty became untrue.
Am I not Gonzalo who
By his self-reflection made
Consolation an offence?
There was nothing to explain:
Had I trusted the Absurd
And straightforward note by note
Sung exactly what I heard,
Such immediate delight
Would have taken there and then
Our common welkin by surprise,
All would have begun to dance
Jigs of self-deliverance.
It was I prevented this,
Jealous of my native ear,
Mine the art which made the song
Sound ridiculous and wrong,
I whose interference broke
The gallop into jog-trot prose
And by speculation froze
Vision into an idea,
Irony into a joke,
Till I stood convicted of
Doubt and insufficient love.
Farewell, dear island of our wreck:
All have been restored to health,
All have seen the Commonwealth,
There is nothing to forgive.
Since a storm's decision gave
His subjective passion back
To a meditative man,
Even reminiscence can
Comfort ambient troubles like
Some ruined tower by the sea
Whence boyhoods growing and afraid
Learn a formula they need
In solving their mortality,
Even rusting flesh can be
A simple locus now, a bell
The Already There can lay
Hands on if at any time
It should feel inclined to say
To the lonely – "Here I am",
To the anxious – "All is well".
One tongue is silent, Prospero,
All have seen the Commonwealth,
There is nothing to forgive.
Since a storm's decision gave
His subjective passion back
To a meditative man,
Even reminiscence can
Comfort ambient troubles like
Some ruined tower by the sea
Whence boyhoods growing and afraid
Learn a formula they need
In solving their mortality,
Even rusting flesh can be
A simple locus now, a bell
The Already There can lay
Hands on if at any time
It should feel inclined to say
To the lonely – "Here I am",
To the anxious – "All is well".
One tongue is silent, Prospero,
My language is my own;
Decayed Gonzalo does not know
The shadow that Antonio
Talks to, at noon, alone.
The shadow that Antonio
Talks to, at noon, alone.
– W.H. Auden (1942-44)