Wednesday, February 26, 2025

James Rosenquist

James Rosenquist
Broome Street Trucks after Herman Melville
1963
oil on linen
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York

 
James Rosenquist
Volunteer
1963-64
oil on canvas
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
Spaghetti and Grass
1965
lithograph
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
For Love
1965
screenprint
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

James Rosenquist
Dusting off Roses
1965
lithograph
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York

James Rosenquist
Circles of Confusion
1965
screenprint
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

James Rosenquist
Expo 67 Mural Firepole
1967
lithograph
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

James Rosenquist
See-Saw Class Systems
(Chicago mayor Richard Daley)
1968
screenprint
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
Night Smoke
1969-70
lithograph
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
Night Smoke
1969-70
lithograph
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
Night Smoke
1969-70
lithograph
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
Night Smoke
1969-70
lithograph
Art Institute of Chicago

James Rosenquist
Flamingo Capsule
1970
oil on canvas
Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao

James Rosenquist
Industrial Cottage
1977
oil on canvas
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC

James Rosenquist
The Persistance of Electrons in Space
1987
etching and aquatint
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York

James Rosenquist
Talking Flowers Ideas
1987
lithograph
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York

James Rosenquist
House of Fire
1989
lithograph and pressed paper pulp
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

from Persephone the Wanderer

In grief, after the daughter dies,
the mother wanders the earth.
She is preparing her case;
like a politician
she remembers everything and admits
nothing.

For example, her daughter's
birth was unbearable, her beauty
was unbearable: she remembers this.
She remembers Persephone's
innocence, her tenderness –

What is she planning, seeking her daughter?
She is issuing
a warning whose implicit message is:
what are you doing outside my body?

You ask yourself
why is the mother's body safe?

The answer is
this is the wrong question, since

the daughter's body
doesn't exist, except
as a branch of the mother's body
that needs to be
reattached at any cost.

When a god grieves it means
destroying others (as in war)
while at the same time petitioning
to reverse agreements (as in war also):

if Zeus will get her back,
winter will end.

Winter will end, spring will return.
The small pestering breezes
that I so loved, the idiot yellow flowers –

Spring will return, a dream
based on a falsehood:
that the dead return.

Persephone 
was used to death. Now over and over
her mother hauls her out again –

You must ask yourself
are the flowers real? If
Persephone "returns" there will be 
one of two reasons:

either she was not dead or
she is being used
to support a fiction –

I think I can remember
being dead. Many times, in winter,
I approached Zeus. Tell me, I would ask him,
how can I endure the earth?

And he would say,
in a short time you will be here again.
And in the time between

you will forget everything:
those fields of ice will be
the meadows of Elysium.

– Louise Glück (2006)