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| Robert Mapplethorpe Ariel Phillips 1979 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Robert Mapplethorpe Roses 1987 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Robert Mapplethorpe Skull Walking Cane 1988 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Robert Mapplethorpe Larry and Bobby, NYC 1979 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Larry Rivers Blocks: Yellow, Orange ca. 1958 oil on canvas McNay Art Museum, San Antonio, Texas |
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| Larry Rivers Flying American 1959-60 oil on canvas McNay Art Museum, San Antonio, Texas |
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| Larry Rivers Public and Private 1983-84 oil on paper, mounted on foamcore National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Larry Rivers Webster and Europe 1967 collage with crayon and charcoal on paper Phoenix Art Museum, Arizona |
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| Lucas Samaras Box no. 54 1966 painted wood National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Lucas Samaras Box no. 68 1968 painted wood National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Lucas Samaras Winged Man with Head on Knee 1980 gilt bronze National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Lucas Samaras Winged Woman with Three Arms 1980 gilt bronze National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Emilio Sánchez Casita al Mar 1974 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Emilio Sánchez El Hotel Miramar 1981 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Emilio Sánchez The Shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge ca. 1987-88 lithograph Fralin Museum of Art, Charlottesville, Virginia |
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| Emilio Sánchez Ty's Place 1976 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
from New Year Letter
O but it happens every day
To someone. Suddenly the way
Leads straight into their native lands,
The temenos' small wicket stands
Wide open, shining at the centre
The well of life, and they may enter.
Though compasses and stars cannot
Direct to that magnetic spot,
Nor Will nor willing-not-to-will,
For there is neither good nor ill,
But free rejoicing energy.
Yet anytime, how casually,
Out of his organised distress
An accidental happiness,
Catching man off his guard, will blow him
Out of his life in time to show him
The field of Being where he may,
Unconscious of Becoming, play
With the Eternal Innocence
In unimpeded utterance.
But perfect Being has ordained
It must be lost to be regained,
And in its orchards grow the tree
And fruit of human destiny,
And man must eat it and depart
At once with gay and grateful heart,
Obedient, reborn, re-aware;
For, if he stop an instant there,
The sky grows crimson with a curse,
The flowers change colour for the worse,
He hears behind his back the wicket
Padlock itself, from the dark thicket
The chuckle with no healthy cause,
And, helpless, sees the crooked claws
Emerging into view and groping
For handholds on the low round coping
As Horror clambers from the well:
For he has sprung the trap of Hell.
– W.H. Auden (1940)