Caspar Netscher Violin Player ca. 1665 oil on panel Statens Museum for Kunst, Copenhagen |
Michael Willmann Study for Allegory of Music ca. 1680 drawing Kunstmuseum, Basel |
Césarine Henriette Flore Davin Portrait of Antonio Bartolomeo Bruni ca. 1804 oil on canvas Frick Collection, New York |
Jan Kupecký Young Man playing a Violin ca. 1706 oil on canvas Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest |
Jan Kupecký Woman with a Viola d'Amore ca. 1720-30 oil on canvas Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest |
Gerard Seghers St Francis in Ecstasy with Musical Angel ca. 1619 oil on canvas Musée des Beaux-Arts de Caen |
Guercino (Giovanni Francesco Barbieri) Figure with Violin before 1666 drawing Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia |
Louis-Léopold Boilly The Folly of the Day (Violinist as Death) 1797 drawing Städel Museum, Frankfurt |
Gerrit van Honthorst The Merry Fiddler 1623 oil on canvas Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
Gerard Hoet Musicians behind a Balustrade 1660 drawing (study for ceiling painting) Morgan Library, New York |
Pieter Lastman King David making Music in the Temple 1618 oil on panel Herzog Anton Ulrich Museum, Braunschweig |
Giovanni Battista Buoncuore Musical Group ca. 1695 oil on canvas Chrysler Museum of Art Norfolk, Virginia |
Jan Harmensz Muller after Cornelis van Haarlem Arion playing the Harp ca. 1589-90 drawing Morgan Library, New York |
Pieter Barbiers Musical Group ca. 1819 oil on canvas Teylers Museum, Haarlem |
Jacob Ochtervelt Couple making Music ca. 1671-75 oil on canvas Deutsche Barockgalerie, Augsburg |
David Teniers the Younger Interior with Woman and Child making Music ca. 1644-45 oil on panel Galleria Sabauda, Turin |
Where My Books Go
All the words that I gather,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm darkened or starry bright.
– W.B. Yeats (1892)
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm darkened or starry bright.
– W.B. Yeats (1892)