Beardsley - Beaton - Bowen - Brodzky

Aubrey Beardsley
The Savoy
1896
lithograph (poster)
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Aubrey Beardsley
The Yellow Book
1894
lithograph (poster)
Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington

Aubrey Beardsley
Pseudonym and Autonym Library Series
published by T. Fisher Unwin
1894
lithograph (poster)
Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington

Aubrey Beardsley
Ornamental Designs for John Lane
1895
drawing
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Cecil Beaton
Charles James Evening Dresses
1948
gelatin silver print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Cecil Beaton
Lady Beaverbrook
1952
hand-colored gelatin silver print
Beaverbrook Art Gallery, Fredericton, New Brunswick

Cecil Beaton
Lady Hudson
ca. 1928
gelatin silver print
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

Cecil Beaton
Miss Edith Sitwell, famous English Poetess
ca. 1929
gelatin silver print
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Dean Bowen
Flying Pie
1991
lithograph
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Dean Bowen
Mechanical Object
1988
lithograph
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Dean Bowen
The Colosseum
1990
lithograph
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Dean Bowen
The Lone Chimney
1990
lithograph
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Horace Brodzky
Discussion
1958
oil on board
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Horace Brodzky
Builders
1919
linocut
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Horace Brodzky
Bather
1920
linocut (book illustration)
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Horace Brodzky
Expulsion
1914
linocut
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

from Journey to Iceland

Here let the citizen, then, find natural marvels, 
a horse-shoe ravine, an issue of steam from a cleft

     in the rock, and rocks, and waterfalls brushing

          the rocks, and among the rocks birds; 

the student of prose and conduct places to visit,
the site of a church where a bishop was put in a bag,

     the bath of a great historian, the fort where

          an outlaw dreaded the dark,

remember the doomed man thrown by his horse and crying

Beautiful is the hillside. I will not go,

     the old woman confessing He that I loved the

          best, to him I was worst. 

Europe is absent: this is an island and should be
a refuge, where the affections of its dead can be bought
     by those whose dreams accuse them of being
          spitefully alive, and the pale 

from too much passion of kissing feel pure in its deserts.
But is it, can they, as the world is and can lie?
     A narrow bridge over a torrent,
          a small farm under a crag

are natural settings for the jealousies of a province:
a weak vow of fidelity is made at a cairn,
     within the indigenous figure on horseback
          on the bridle-path down by the lake

his blood moves also by furtive and crooked inches,
asks all our questions: Where is the homage? When
     shall justice be done? Who is against me?
          Why am I always alone?

– W.H. Auden (1936)