Théodule Ribot Lamb Chops and Kidneys ca. 1880 oil on canvas Musée de l'Oise |
Théodule Ribot Still Life with Pumpkin, Plums, Cherries, Figs and Jug ca. 1860 oil on canvas Museo de Bellas Artes de Bilbao |
Théodule Ribot The Burnt Dish 1863 etching National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
Théodule Ribot The Peelers 1863 etching National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
John Sloan Silhouette of James Preston ca. 1896 drawing Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington |
John Sloan Self Portrait 1946 drawing Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington |
John Sloan Hudson Sky 1908 oil on canvas Wichita Art Museum, Kansas |
John Sloan Road to Santa Fe 1924 oil on canvas Phoenix Art Museum, Arizona |
Laura Knight Backstage at the Birmingham Rep ca. 1930 pastel on paper Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, British Columbia |
Laura Knight Trio Gymnastique 1932 aquatint Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
Laura Knight Carmo's Circus 1935 drawing Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
Laura Knight Circus Dressing Room ca. 1935 aquatint Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, British Columbia |
Amedeo Modigliani Head 1911-12 limestone Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia |
Amedeo Modigliani Portrait of a Man 1913 oil on canvas Denver Art Museum |
Amedeo Modigliani Jeanne Hébuterne 1918 oil on canvas Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena |
Amedeo Modigliani Girl with Polka-Dot Blouse 1919 oil on canvas Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia |
from The Sea and the Mirror
Antonio:
As all the pigs have turned back into men
And the sky is auspicious and the sea
Calm as a clock, we can all go home again.
Yes, it undoubtedly looks as if we
Could take life as easily now as tales
Write ever-after: not only are the
Two heads silhouetted against the sails
– And kissing, of course – well-built, but the lean
Fool is quite a person, the fingernails
Of the dear old butler for once quite clean,
And the royal passengers quite as good
As rustics, perhaps better, for they mean
What they say, without, as a rustic would,
Casting reflections on the courtly crew.
Yes, Brother Prospero, your grouping could
Not be more effective: given a few
Incomplete objects and a nice warm day,
What a lot a little music can do.
Dotted about the deck, they doze or play,
Your loyal subjects all, grateful enough
To know their place and believe what you say.
Antonio, sweet brother, has to laugh.
How easy you have made it to refuse
Peace to your greatness! Break your wand in half,
The fragments will join, burn your books or lose
Them in the sea, they will soon reappear,
Not even damaged: as long as I choose
To wear my fashion, whatever you wear
Is a magic robe; while I stand outside
Your circle, the will to charm is still there.
As I exist so you shall be denied,
Forced to remain our melancholy mentor,
The grown-up man, the adult in his pride,
Never have time to curl up at the centre
Time turns on when completely reconciled.
Never become and therefore never enter
The green occluded pasture as a child.
Your all is partial, Prospero;
My will is all my own:
Your need to love shall never know
Me: I am I, Antonio,
By choice myself alone.
– W.H. Auden (1942-44)