Alec Murray Model Denise Serrault ca. 1955 dye transfer print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Alec Murray Veruschka in Three-Piece Suit (advertising campaign) ca. 1970 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Alec Murray Veruschka en travesti and as herself (advertising campaign) ca. 1970 gelatin silver print Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
Alec Murray Fashion Model at Paris Metro entrance in Gown by Claude Rivière 1959 gelatin silver print Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
Paul Nash Stage Design for Die Walkure, act III 1925 wood-engraving National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Paul Nash Nativity 1927 linocut (illustration to poem by Siegfried Sassoon) National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Paul Nash Abstract no. 1 1924 wood-engraving National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Paul Nash Abstract no. 2 1926 wood-engraving National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Robert Motherwell Three Figures 1989 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Robert Motherwell Three Figures 1989 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Robert Motherwell Blue Elegy 1987 lithograph and pressed paper pulp National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Robert Motherwell Wall Painting no. 1 1952 oil on panel Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto |
Eadweard Muybridge Animal Locomotion, Plate 335 1887 collotypes Akron Art Museum, Ohio |
Eadweard Muybridge Animal Locomotion, Plate 340 1887 collotypes Akron Art Museum, Ohio |
Eadweard Muybridge Clinton cantering with bareback rider ca. 1884-86 collotypes National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
Eadweard Muybridge Cockatoo Flying ca. 1885 collotypes National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
from The Dark Years
Returning each morning from a timeless world,
the senses open upon a world of time:
the senses open upon a world of time:
after so many years the light is
novel still and immensely ambitious,
but, translated from her own informal world,
the ego is bewildered and does not want
a shining novelty this morning
and does not like the noise or the people.
For behind the doors of this ambitious day
stand shadows with enormous grudges, outside
its chartered ocean of perception
misshapen coastguards drunk with foreboding;
and whispering websters, creeping through the world,
discredit so much literature and praise.
Summer was worse than we expected:
now an Autumn cold comes on the water,
as lesser lives retire on their savings, their
small deposits of starches and nuts, and soon
will be asleep or travelling or
dead. But this year the towns of our childhood
are changing complexion along with the woods,
and many who have shared our conduct will add
their pinches of detritus to the
nutritive chain of determined being,
and even our uneliminated decline
to a vita minima, huddling for warmth,
the hard- and the soft-mouthed together
in a coma of waiting, just breathing
in a darkness of tribulation and death,
while blizzards havoc the garden and the old
Folly becomes unsafe, the mill-wheels
rust, and the weirs fall slowly to pieces.
– W.H. Auden (1940)