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| Maxime Du Camp Plate 106 from album - Egypte, Nubie, Palestine et Syrie published 1852 salted paper print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Auguste Salzmann Jerusalem, Valley of Josaphat, Tomb of St James 1854 salted paper print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Harry Callahan Chicago 1950 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Brassaï Fenêtre - Style Colonial à Ouro Preto (Brésil) 1959 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Duane Michals Office 1964 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
Benjamin Pantier
Together in this grave lie Benjamin Pantier, attorney at law,
And Nig, his dog, constant companion, solace and friend.
Down the gray road, friends, children, men and women,
Passing one by one out of life, left me till I was alone
With Nig for partner, bed-fellow, comrade in drink.
In the morning of life I knew aspiration and saw glory.
Then she, who survives me, snared my soul
With a snare which bled me to death,
Till I, once strong of will, lay broken, indifferent,
Living with Nig in a room back of a dingy office.
Under my jaw-bone is snuggled the bony nose of Nig –
Our story is lost in silence. Go by, mad world!
– Edgar Lee Masters (1915)
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| Joel Snyder Burr Oak, Lisle, Illinois 1971 platinum print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Joel Meyerowitz Hartwig House, Truro, Cape Cod 1976 C-print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Bob Thall Vicinity of Federal Street and Van Buren Street, view north 1978 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
Flying Deeper into the Century
Flying deeper into the century
is exhilarating, the faces of loved ones eaten out
slowly, the panhandles of flesh warding off
the air, the smiling plots. We are lucky to be mature,
in our prime, seeing more treaties, watching
TV get computerized. Death has no dominion.
It lives off the land. The glow over the hill, from
the test sites, at night, the whole block of neighbours
dying of cancer over the next thirty years. We are
suing the government for a drop of blood; flying deeper
into the century, love,
the lies are old lies with more imagination;
the future is a canoe. The three bears are ravenous, not content
with porridge. Flying deeper into the century,
my hands are prayers, hooks, streamers.
I cannot love grass, cameos or lungs.
The end of the century is a bedspread up to the eyes.
I want to be there, making ends meet.
I will not love you, with such malice at large.
Flying deeper into the century is beautiful, like
coming up for the third time, life flashing before us.
The major publishing event is the last poem of
all time. I am a lonely bastard. My brothers and sisters have
had sexual relations, and I am left with their mongrel sons
writing memoirs about the dead in Cambodia.
Flying deeper, I do not remember what I cared for, out
of respect. Oh Time, oh Newsweek, oh Ladies' Home Journal,
oh the last frontier, I am deeply touched.
The sun, an ignoramus, comes up.
I have this conversation with it. Glumly, glumly, deeper
I fly into the century, every feather of each wing
absolution, if only I were less than human, not angry
like a beaten thing.
– Pier Giorgio Di Cicco (1982)
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| Don A. DuBroff Notre Dame Church, Chicago 1983 C-print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Joel Sternfeld The Claudian Aqueduct, Rome 1989 C-print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Thomas Struth Jianghan Lu, Wuhan 1995 C-print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Terry Evans Abandoned Farm, Central North Dakota 1997 C-print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Jeff Wall The Flooded Grave 1998-2000 transparency in lightbox Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Wolfgang Tillmans Faltenwurf, Bourne Estate 2002 C-print Art Institute of Chicago |