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| Norman Ikin Vali Myers ca. 1950 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Norman Ikin Shirley Smith ca. 1954 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Norman Ikin Model in Trousers ca. 1949 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Norman Ikin Model in Evening Gown ca. 1951 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Jörg Immendorff Beben Haben ca. 1990 oil on canvas Loeb Art Center, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, New York |
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| Jörg Immendorff Footsteps 1987 linocut National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Jörg Immendorff The Rake 1994 oil on canvas Kunstmuseum, The Hague |
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| Jörg Immendorff Untitled 1987 linocut National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| George Bellows The Big Dory 1913 oil on panel New Britain Museum of American Art, Connecticut |
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| George Bellows Benediction in Georgia 1916 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| George Bellows The Actress before 1925 lithograph Portland Museum of Art, Maine |
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| George Bellows Family Group with Cat ca. 1920 lithograph Madison Museum of Contemporary Art, Wisconsin |
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| Albert Besnard A Family 1890 etching Wichita Art Museum, Kansas |
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| Albert Besnard La Poupée 1888 etching Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts |
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| Albert Besnard Self Portrait 1919 etching National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Albert Besnard Les Morphinomanes 1887 drypoint National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
from New Year Letter
Under the familiar weight
Of winter, conscience and the State,
In loose formations of good cheer,
Love, language, loneliness and fear,
Love, language, loneliness and fear,
Towards the habits of next year,
Along the streets the people flow,
Singing or sighing as they go:
Exalté, piano, or in doubt,
All our reflections turn about
A common meditative norm,
Retrenchment, Sacrifice, Reform.
Twelve months ago in Brussels, I
Heard the same wishful-thinking sigh
As round me, trembling on their beds,
Or taut with apprehensive dreads,
The sleepless guests of Europe lay
Wishing the centuries away,
And the low mutter of their vows
Went echoing through her haunted house,
As on the verge of happening
There crouched the presence of The Thing.
All formulas were tried to still
The scratching on the window-sill,
All bolts of custom made secure
Against the pressure on the door,
But up the staircase of events
Carrying his special instruments,
To every bedside all the same
The dreadful figure swiftly came.
– W.H. Auden (1940)