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| Candida Höfer Bank, Oldenburg I 1998 C-print Hamburger Kunsthalle |
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| Alex Katz Green Shadow #2 1998 oil on board Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, Edinburgh |
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| Siegfried Anzinger Frog 1994 distemper on canvas Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| David Salle Camouflage Room 1999 oil and acrylic on canvas Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna |
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| Philip Pearlstein Kiddie-Car Plane, Airplane, and Models 1990 oil on canvas Joslyn Art Museum, Omaha |
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| Nick Mourtzakis Untitled Study 1999 drawing Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Robert Mangold Curved Plane / Figure VI 1995 acrylic on canvas Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo, New York |
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| Miriam Cahn Untitled 1995 oil on canvas Museum Ludwig, Cologne |
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| Maria Beatriz Red and Green Portrait 1992 painted paper collage Museum Gouda |
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| Peter Booth River in Snowstorm with Drowned Figure 1995 casein paint and pastel on paper Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide |
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| James Gleeson The Darkening Stage 1991 oil on canvas National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne |
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| Martin Kippenberger Untitled 1991 oil on canvas Museum Ludwig, Cologne |
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| Georges Mavroidis Someone is Coming 1990 oil on canvas National Gallery, Athens |
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| Manuel Neri Kneeling Figure 1991 painted plaster Denver Art Museum |
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| Zachar Sherman Malevich 1993 oil on cardboard Museum Ludwig, Cologne |
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| Jeff Wall Insomnia 1994 transparency in lightbox Hamburger Kunsthalle |
The Sad Shepherd
There was a man whom Sorrow named his friend,
And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,
Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming
And humming sands, where windy surges wend:
And he called loudly to the stars to bend
And he called loudly to the stars to bend
From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they
Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:
Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous story!
The sea swept on and cried her old cry still,
Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill.
He fled the persecution of her glory
And, in a far-off, gentle valley stopping,
Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening.
Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous story!
The sea swept on and cried her old cry still,
Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill.
He fled the persecution of her glory
And, in a far-off, gentle valley stopping,
Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening.
But naught they heard, for they are always listening,
The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping.
The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping.
And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
And thought, I will my heavy story tell
Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send
Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;
Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
And thought, I will my heavy story tell
Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send
Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;
And my own tale again for me shall sing,
And my own whispering words be comforting,
And my own whispering words be comforting,
And lo! my ancient burden may depart.
Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;
But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan
Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.
Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.
– W.B. Yeats (1889)