Sunday, March 31, 2024

Champaigne - Dean - Degas - Courbet

Philippe de Champaigne
Abbess of the Trinity at Caen
ca. 1629
oil on canvas
Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena

Philippe de Champaigne
Christ in the House of Simon the Pharisee
ca. 1656
oil on canvas
Musée des Beaux-Arts de Nantes

Philippe de Champaigne
Virgin and Child
ca. 1635
oil on canvas
Alte Pinakothek, Munich

Philippe de Champaigne
Louis XIV ceding his Crown to the Virgin
(with his mother and brother looking on)
ca. 1643
oil on canvas
Hamburger Kunsthalle

Max Dean
Stack of Albums
2010
C-print
Ottawa Art Gallery, Ontario

Max Dean
Trigger (Sitting with Doll)
2010
C-print
Ottawa Art Gallery, Ontario

Max Dean
Trigger (Crying)
2010
C-print
Ottawa Art Gallery, Ontario

Max Dean
Sacrifice (Tearing Photo)
2010
C-print
Ottawa Art Gallery, Ontario

Edgar Degas
Le Bain
ca. 1895
oil on canvas
Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto

Edgar Degas
Woman putting on Stockings
ca. 1883
pastel on board
Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo

Edgar Degas
Woman Drying
ca. 1876-77
pastel over monotype
Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena

Edgar Degas
Woman leaving the Bath
ca. 1876-77
pastel over monotype
Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena

Gustave Courbet
Hunted Stag
1869
oil on canvas
Landesmuseum Hannover

Gustave Courbet
Roe Deer at a Stream
1868
oil on canvas
Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth

Gustave Courbet
Seascape
ca. 1865
oil on canvas
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston

Gustave Courbet
The Meuse at Freyr
ca. 1856
oil on canvas
Palais des Beaux-Arts de Lille

from Part Three of The Age of Anxiety

Malin says:
     Boring and bare of shade,
     Devoid of souvenirs and voices,
     It takes will to cross this waste

     Which is really empty: the mirage
     Need not be tasty to tempt;
     For the senses arouse themselves,

     And an image of humpbacked girls
     Or plates of roasted rats
     Can make the mouth water.

     With nothing to know about,
     The mind reflects on its movements
     And so doubles any distance.

     Even if we had time
     To read through all the wrinkled
     Reports of explorers who claim

     That hidden arrant streams
     Chuckle through this chapped land
     In profound and meagre fissures,

     Or that this desert is dotted with
     Oases where acrobats dwell
     Who make unbelievable leaps,

     We should never have proof they were not
     Deceiving us. For the only certain
     Truth is that they returned,

     And that we cannot be deaf to the question:
     "Do I love this world so well
     That I have to know how it ends?"

– W.H. Auden (1944-46)