Sunday, June 16, 2024

The Pupil of the Eye included in Sculpted Faces

Donatello
Head of St George
ca. 1416
marble
Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence

Tullio Lombardo
Bacchus and Ariadne
ca. 1505-1510
marble relief
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

Anonymous Italian Artist
Bust of an Ancient Roman
ca. 1520-30
bronze
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Antonio Begarelli
Bust of Christ
ca. 1550
terracotta
Bode Museum, Berlin

Francesco Mochi
Bust of a Youth
ca. 1630-40
marble
Art Institute of Chicago

attributed to Pietro Tacca
Bust of Philip IV, King of Spain
before 1640
marble
Museo del Prado, Madrid

Antonio Giorgetti
Head of an Angel
1668
terracotta
Hermitage, Saint Petersburg

Gianlorenzo Bernini
Bust of the Savior
ca. 1679
marble
Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia

Anonymous French Artist
Bust of dramatist Jean Racine
18th century
bronze
private collection

Jean-Baptiste Lemoyne the Younger
Portrait Bust of the Comtesse de Feuquières
(daughter of painter Pierre Mignard)
ca. 1738
terracotta
Victoria & Albert Museum, London

Jean-Antoine Houdon
Head of composer Christoph Willibald Gluck
1775
plaster
Neue Pinakothek, Munich

Augustin Pajou
Bust of architect Pierre Rousseau
ca. 1785
terracotta
Hermitage, Saint Petersburg

Francis Legatt Chantrey
Bust of Mr Warp
1816
marble
Tate Gallery

Aimé-Jules Dalou
Portrait Mask of photographer Étienne Carjat
ca. 1891
bronze
National Gallery of Art, Washington DC

William Robert Colton
The Young Diana
1919
marble
Royal Academy of Arts, London

Frank Dobson
Study for the Head of Pax
1933
bronze
Royal Academy of Arts, London

from The Arrogance of Physics

The twentieth century was the century of physics:
The physical world came close to being tamed
By understanding, making it harder to understand
Or even imagine, on the scale of the cosmos
And on the order of the very small: time passes
As your twin ages, while you remain perpetually young –
Though a lot of good it does you, existing as you do
At no place in particular, smeared out everywhere
Until someone sees you and your wave packet collapses.

It was also the century of poetry, modern poetry
And the question it engendered, which it keeps repeating:
"Are you going to go on writing poems like this,
Writing for posterity? Posterity isn't interested
Unless you are, because instead of a quaint immortality,
It offers merely intermittent moments of attention
Before moving on, maybe to return, but probably not.
You can't displace your heroes in the pantheon,
Because there isn't one: just this giant, happy band
Of suppliants, each one knowing what the others know.
I realize this isn't what you'd hoped for, but please,
Don't get discouraged – celebrate temporality instead."

– John Koethe (2016)