Friday, June 14, 2024

Made in 1938

Josef Breitenbach
Box Hill, England
1938
gelatin silver print
Loeb Art Center, Vassar College,
Poughkeepsie, New York

Anton Bruehl
Portrait of a Girl
1938
tri-color carbro print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Emily Carr
Light Swooping Through
1938
oil on canvas
Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, British Columbia

Archibald Douglas Colquhoun
Alice
1938
oil on canvas
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

Robert Delaunay
Rhythme II
1938
oil on canvas
Seattle Art Museum

Don Freeman
On the Fly-Rail above the Stars
1938
lithograph
San Jose Museum of Art, California

George Grosz
The Blue Chair
1938
oil on canvas
Wichita Art Museum, Kansas

Johan Hagemeyer
Antoinette Detcheva, pianist
1938
gelatin silver print
Art Institute of Chicago

Rockwell Kent
Books make the Home
1938
wood-engraving
Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington

Lee Krasner
Still Life
1938
oil on paper
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Man Ray
Imaginary Portrait of the Marquis de Sade
1938
oil on canvas
Menil Collection, Houston

Lisette Model
Aveugle
1938
gelatin silver print
Crocker Art Museum, Sacramento, California

Barbara Morgan
City Shell
1938
gelatin silver print
Fralin Museum of Art, Charlottesville, Virginia

Rodrigo Moynihan
Still Life - Fish and Bottle
1938
oil on canvas
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

Norman Blaine Saunders
Illustration for Detective Short Stories Magazine
1938
oil on canvas
New Britain Museum of American Art, Connecticut

Miklos Suba
American Landscape
1938
oil on canvas
Phoenix Art Museum, Arizona

from The Quest 

He watched with all his organs of concern
How princes walk, what wives and children say,
Re-opened old graves in his heart to learn
What laws the dead had died to disobey,

And came reluctantly to his conclusion:
"All the arm-chair philosophies are false;
To love another adds to the confusion;
The song of mercy is the Devil's Waltz."

All that he put his hand to prospered so
That soon he was the very King of creatures,
Yet, in an autumn nightmare trembled, for,

Approaching down a ruined corridor,
Strode someone with his own distorted features
Who wept, and grew enormous, and cried Woe. 

– W.H. Auden (1940)