Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Sander - Spencer - Salle - Spowers

August Sander
Equestrian Team
ca. 1924
gelatin silver print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

August Sander
Mother with Three Children
ca. 1916
gelatin silver print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

August Sander
Painter Anton Räderscheidt
1926
gelatin silver print
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

August Sander
Painters Marta Hegemann and Anton Räderscheidt
ca. 1924
gelatin silver print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Stanley Spencer
Man with a Hat
1930
drawing
Manchester Art Gallery

Stanley Spencer
Interior at Cookham with Spring Flowers
1937
oil on canvas
Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane

Stanley Spencer
The Marriage at Cana: Servant in Kitchen announcing the Miracle
1953
oil on canvas
Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick

Stanley Spencer
Parents Resurrecting
1933
oil on canvas
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

David Salle
Fast and Slow
1994
lithograph and woodcut
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

David Salle
Hammer Head
2004
oil on linen
Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland, Maine

David Salle
High and Wide
1994
lithograph and woodcut
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

David Salle
The Emperor
2000
oil and acrylic on canvas
North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh

Ethel Spowers
Football
1936
color linocut
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Ethel Spowers
Harvest
1932
color linocut
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Ethel Spowers
Durham Cathedral
ca. 1924
color woodblock print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Ethel Spowers
Still Life
1929
wood-engraving
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

Sonnets from China

                                 VII

He was their servant (some say he was blind),
Who moved among their faces and their things:
Their feeling gathered in him like a wind
And sang. They cried, "It is a God that sings."

And honoured him, a person set apart,
Till he grew vain, mistook for personal song
The petty tremors of his mind or heart
At each domestic wrong. 

Line came to him no more, he had to make them
(With what precision was each strophe planned):
Hugging his gloom as peasants hug their land,

He stalked like an assassin through the town,
And glared at men because he did not like them,
But trembled if one passed him with a frown.

– W.H. Auden (1938)