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| Alois Mosbacher Figure 1981 oil on canvas Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Victor Honig van den Bossche Portrait of Simone de Beauvoir 1986 drawing (colored pencils) Museum Gouda |
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| Peter Wehrens Untitled 1983 oil and acrylic on board Bonnefantenmuseum, Maastricht |
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| Elisabeth de Vaal Torso 1982 acrylic on paper Museum Gouda |
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| Victoria Crowe Portrait of psychiatrist and writer R.D. Laing 1984 oil on panel Scottish National Portrait Gallery, Edinburgh |
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| Gunter Christmann Untitled 1984 drawing (colored chalks) National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne |
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| Constance McClure Figure on Exotic Bed 1987 drawing Cincinnati Art Museum, Ohio |
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| Georg Eisler The Red Restaurant 1981 oil on canvas Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Leon Golub Blue Sphinx 1988 acrylic on linen Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh |
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| Philip Pearlstein Two Models - One seated on Floor in Kimono 1980 oil on canvas Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh |
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| Maria Lassnig Atlas 1985 oil on canvas Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Christos Bokoros Naked Couple on Bed 1989 oil on canvas National Gallery, Athens |
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| Sarantis Karavouzis Indoor Statues 1987 engraving National Gallery, Athens |
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| Louise Lawler Gallery in the Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam 1988 C-print Hamburger Kunsthalle |
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| Georg Baselitz Saint Veronica 1984 oil on canvas Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Elaine De Kooning Bacchus #19-0 1983 oil on canvas Musée d'Art Classique de Mougins |
The harlot sang to the beggarman.
I meet them face to face,
Conall, Cuchulain, Usna's boys,
All that most ancient race;
Maeve had three in an hour they say;
I adore those clever eyes
Those muscular bodies but can get
No grip upon their thighs.
I meet those long pale faces,
Hear their great horses, then
Recall what centuries have passed
Since they were living men,
That there are still some living
Those muscular bodies but can get
No grip upon their thighs.
I meet those long pale faces,
Hear their great horses, then
Recall what centuries have passed
Since they were living men,
That there are still some living
That do my limbs unclothe,
But that the flesh my flesh has gripped
I both adore and loathe.
Are those things that men adore and loathe
Their sole reality?
What stood in the Post Office
I both adore and loathe.
Are those things that men adore and loathe
Their sole reality?
What stood in the Post Office
With Pearse and Connolly?
What comes out of the mountain
Where men first shed their blood?
Who thought Cuchulain till it seemed
He stood where they had stood?
No body like his body
What comes out of the mountain
Where men first shed their blood?
Who thought Cuchulain till it seemed
He stood where they had stood?
No body like his body
Has modern woman borne,
But an old man looking back on life
Imagines it in scorn.
A statue's there to mark the place
By Oliver Sheppard done.
So ends the tale that the harlot
Sang to the beggarman.
But an old man looking back on life
Imagines it in scorn.
A statue's there to mark the place
By Oliver Sheppard done.
So ends the tale that the harlot
Sang to the beggarman.
– W.B. Yeats (1939)