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Kasimir Malevich Black and White: Suprematist Composition 1915 oil on canvas Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Piet Mondrian Composition no. 12 with Blue 1936-42 oil on canvas National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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Line Wælgaard Untitled 2004 C-print KORO (Public Art Norway), Oslo |
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Gösta Adrian-Nilsson Plane Geometry 1930 oil on cardboard Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Marina Abramovic Chair for Human Use (III) 2015 wood and quartz crystals Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Josef Albers SP (Homage to the Square) 7 1967 screenprint Museum Folkwang, Essen |
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Ann Edholm Celan 2007 oil on canvas Göteborgs Konstmuseum, Sweden |
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Lennart Durehed Hovet (skating rink at Johanneshov) 1988 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Linda Hofvander Green Screen 2012 C-print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Hilmar Fredriksen Index Sheet ca. 1985 gouache on cardboard Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo |
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Siri Hermansen Library I (series, Bipolar Horizon) 2006 C-print Nordnorsk Kunstmuseum, Tromsø |
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Vilhelm Hammershøi In the Bedroom 1896 oil on canvas Göteborgs Konstmuseum, Sweden |
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Irma Salo Jæger Vestvendt Felt 2010 tempera and oil paint on canvas Stortingets Kunstsamling, Oslo |
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Thørbjorn Lie-Jørgensen Blue Interior 1956 oil on canvas Stavanger Kunstmuseum, Norway |
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Jimmie Durham Utopia Station 2003 lithograph (poster for the Venice Biennale) Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Stanley Whitney Off Square 2016 oil on linen Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
They cried from fear of what their master would do, but even a stranger would have cried if he had been there, for the place was completely ruined, and all the ground was now a muddy mess – except that any flowers that had escaped the assault still kept some bloom and shine and were still lovely even as they lay on the ground. The bees hung over them too, making a continuous, ceaseless humming, as though mourning. Lamon was shocked and said: "Oh the bed of roses – how they've been broken down! Oh, the bed of violets – how they've been trampled down! Oh, the hyacinths and narcissi, that some evil man has dug up! Spring will come, and they will not flower. Summer will come, and they will not reach full bloom. Another autumn will come, and they will not form a garland for anyone. Lord Dionysus, didn't you feel sorry for these poor flowers? You used to live beside them and look at them, and I often made you garlands with them. How shall I show the garden to the master now? And what will be his reaction when he sees it? There's an old man he'll string up on one of the pines, like Marsyas; and perhaps he'll think that goats did this and string up Daphnis too!"
At this point there were even hotter tears, and now they were not mourning for the flowers, but for their own bodies.
– Longus, from Daphnis and Chloe (2nd century AD), translated from Greek by Christopher Gill (1989)