Normana Wight Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones (series, Movies on Television) ca. 1985 screenprint (postcard) National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Normana Wight R. Redford, All the President's Men (series, Movies on Television) ca. 1986 screenprint (postcard) National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Normana Wight William Hurt (series, Movies on Television) ca. 1986 screenprint (postcard) National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Normana Wight Self Portrait with Blue Hand 1986 screenprint (postcard) National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Natori Shunsen Ichikawa Sumizo VI as Shirai Gonpachi in The Floating World's Pattern 1926 color woodblock print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Natori Shunsen Nakamura Ganjiro I as Sakata Tojuro in Tojuro's Love 1925 color woodblock print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Natori Shunsen Nakamura Kaisha I as Okaru in Love Suicides, Eve of the Koshin Festival 1928 color woodblock print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Natori Shunsen Onoe Baiko VI as Sayuri in Bridge of Return 1925 color woodblock print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
August Sander The Architect Hans Poelzig, Berlin 1929 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
August Sander The Dadaist Raoul Hausmann ca. 1930 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
August Sander Gerd Arntz (painter) 1929 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
August Sander Otto Freundlich (painter) 1929 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
David Salle Low and Narrow 1994 lithograph, woodcut, etching and collage National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
David Salle Long and High 1994 lithograph and woodcut National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
David Salle High and Low 1994 lithograph, woodcut and screenprint National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
David Salle Up and Down 1994 lithograph, woodcut, etching and collage National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
from Music is International
Orchestras have so long been speaking
This universal language that the Greek
And the Barbarian have both mastered
Its enigmatic grammar which at last
Says all things well. But who is worthy?
What is sweet? What is sound? Much of the earth
Is austere, her temperate regions
Swarming with cops and robbers; germs besiege
The walled towns and among the living
The captured outnumber the fugitive.
Orchestras have so long been speaking
This universal language that the Greek
And the Barbarian have both mastered
Its enigmatic grammar which at last
Says all things well. But who is worthy?
What is sweet? What is sound? Much of the earth
Is austere, her temperate regions
Swarming with cops and robbers; germs besiege
The walled towns and among the living
The captured outnumber the fugitive.
Where silence is coldest and darkest,
Among those staring blemishes that mark
War's havocking slot, it is easy
To guess what dreams such vaulting cries release:
The unamerican survivor
Hears angels drinking fruit-juice with their wives
Or making money in an open
Unpoliced air. But what is our hope,
As with an ostentatious rightness
These gratuitous sounds like water and light
Bless the Republic? Do they sponsor
In us the mornes and motted mammelons,
The sharp streams and sortering springs of
A commuter's wish, where each frescade rings
With melodious booing and hooing
Among those staring blemishes that mark
War's havocking slot, it is easy
To guess what dreams such vaulting cries release:
The unamerican survivor
Hears angels drinking fruit-juice with their wives
Or making money in an open
Unpoliced air. But what is our hope,
As with an ostentatious rightness
These gratuitous sounds like water and light
Bless the Republic? Do they sponsor
In us the mornes and motted mammelons,
The sharp streams and sortering springs of
A commuter's wish, where each frescade rings
With melodious booing and hooing
As some elegant lovejoy deigns to woo
And nothing dreadful ever happened?
Probably yes. We are easy to trap,
Being Adam's children, as thirsty
For mere illusion still as when the first
Comfortable heresy crooned to
The proud flesh founded on the self-made wound,
And what we find rousing or touching
Tells us little and confuses us much.
And nothing dreadful ever happened?
Probably yes. We are easy to trap,
Being Adam's children, as thirsty
For mere illusion still as when the first
Comfortable heresy crooned to
The proud flesh founded on the self-made wound,
And what we find rousing or touching
Tells us little and confuses us much.
As Shaw said – Music is the brandy
Of the damned. It was from the good old grand
Composers the progressive kind of
Tyrant learned how to melt the legal mind
With a visceral A-ha; fill a
Of the damned. It was from the good old grand
Composers the progressive kind of
Tyrant learned how to melt the legal mind
With a visceral A-ha; fill a
Dwarf's ears with sforzandos and the dwarf will
Believe he's a giant; the orchestral
Metaphor bamboozles the most oppressed
– As a trombone the clerk will bravely
Go oompah-oompah to his minor grave –.
Believe he's a giant; the orchestral
Metaphor bamboozles the most oppressed
– As a trombone the clerk will bravely
Go oompah-oompah to his minor grave –.
So that to-day one recognises
The Machiavel by the hair in his eyes,
His conductor's hands. Yet the jussive
Elohim are here too, asking for us
Through the noise.
The Machiavel by the hair in his eyes,
His conductor's hands. Yet the jussive
Elohim are here too, asking for us
Through the noise.
– W.H. Auden (1947)