Models Modeling

Henriette Browne
A Greek Captive
(popular child model Maria Pasqua Abruzzesi
brought from Italy by her father to work in London)
1863
oil on canvas
National Gallery, London

Jean Heiberg
Model, Paris Atelier
1910
oil on canvas
National Gallery of Norway, Oslo

Per Krohg
The Model Kiki
1928
oil on canvas
National Gallery of Norway, Oslo

Helge Jensen
Interior with Two Models
1931
oil on canvas
Statens Museum for Kunst, Copenhagen

Anonymous Artist
Artist and Model
ca. 1900
drawing
Wellcome Collection, London

George Bellows
Seated Model
ca. 1914
drawing
Cleveland Museum of Art, Ohio

James McBey
Artist and Model
1924
etching
Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
The Model Nizzavena
ca. 1882-83
drawing
Art Institute of Chicago

Paul Cadmus
Model (Michael Kan)
1953
drawing
Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco
(Achenbach Foundation)

Giuseppe Aureli
A Model fastening her Garter
ca. 1890
watercolor and gouache on paper
Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts

Irving Penn
Model Jean Patchett in Cafe - Lima, Peru
(fashion shot for Vogue)
1948
gelatin silver print
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

William Dobell
Model on Divan
ca. 1930
drawing
Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney

William Etty
Seated Model
ca. 1825
oil on panel
Rhode Island School of Design, Providence

Marie Mathieu
Standing Model
1881
drawing
Art Institute of Chicago

Samuel van Hoogstraten
Standing Model
ca. 1650-75
drawing
(Nazi plunder, missing since the 1940s)
Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam

Thorvald Erichsen
Standing Model and Seated Women
1903
oil on canvas
National Gallery of Norway, Oslo

Towards Break of Day

Was it the double of my dream
The woman that by me lay
Dreamed, or did we halve a dream
Under the first cold gleam of day?

I thought: 'There is a waterfall
Upon Ben Bulben side
That all my childhood counted dear;
Were I to travel far and wide
I could not find a thing so dear.'
My memories had magnified
So many times childish delight.

I would have touched it like a child
But knew my finger could but have touched
Cold stone and water. I grew wild
Even accusing Heaven because
It had set me down among its laws:
Nothing that we love over-much
Is ponderable to our touch.

I dreamed towards break of day,
The cold blown spray in my nostril.
But she that beside me lay
Had watched in bitterer sleep
The marvellous stag of Arthur,
That lofty white stag, leap
From mountain steep to steep. 

– W.B. Yeats (1921)