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| Ferdinand Hart Nibbrig Farmhouse near Laren ca. 1912 oil on canvas Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands |
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| Claude Monet Valley of the Creuse under Clouds 1889 oil on canvas Von der Heydt Museum, Wuppertal |
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| Hubert Robert The Column 1789 oil on canvas Saint Louis Art Museum |
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| Ferdinand Hodler Empfindung ca. 1903-1904 tempera on paper, mounted on canvas Von der Heydt Museum, Wuppertal |
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| César de Cock Landscape 1872 oil on canvas Musée des Beaux-Arts de Reims |
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| Gustav Klimt On Lake Attersee 1900 oil on canvas Leopold Museum, Vienna |
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| Patrick Nilsson The Big Darkness 2007 drawing Göteborgs Konstmuseum, Sweden |
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| Johann Wilhelm Schirmer Breaking Waves with Distant Ships 1836 oil on canvas Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe |
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| Johan Christian Dahl Cloud Study 1829 oil on paper KODE (Art Museums Complex), Bergen, Norway |
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| Mikhail Matyushin Dunes ca. 1910 oil on canvas, mounted on panel Museum Ludwig, Cologne |
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| Anton Melby By the Øresund 1852 oil on canvas Hirschsprung Collection, Copenhagen |
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| Edgar Degas Landscape with Rocks 1892 pastel over monotype High Museum of Art, Atlanta |
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| Wilhelm August Leopold Christian Krause Pomeranian Coast 1828 oil on panel Alte Nationalgalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin |
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| Frederick A. Greenleaf Rapids of the Missouri River ca. 1877-85 cyanotype Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas |
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| William Christenberry Palmist Building (Winter), Havana Junction, Alabama 1981 C-print Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas |
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| Arthur Segal The Speaker 1912 oil on canvas Kunsthalle Emden |
Chorus:
No mortal can complete his life
unharmed and unpunished throughout –
ah, ah!
Some troubles are here now, some will come later.
ah, ah!
Some troubles are here now, some will come later.
Orestes: Now, so that you may know – for I have no idea how this will end: I am already, as a horse-driver might say, charioteering somewhat off the track; my mind is almost out of control and carrying me along half-overpowered, and Terror is near my heart, ready to sing and to dance to Wrath's tune – but while I still have my wits, I make proclamation that I killed my mother, the polluted murderer of my father, hated by the gods. And as my prime inducement to dare this deed I name Loxias, the prophet god of Pytho, whose oracle told me that if I did it I would be free from guilt and blame, but if I failed to – I shall not speak of the punishment: no archer could reach that height of suffering.* And now see me, how, accoutred with this wreathed olive-branch, I will go as a suppliant to Loxias' domain, his abode at the central navel of earth, and to the light of the fire that is called immortal, and fleeing this kindred bloodshed: to no other hearth than that did Loxias bid me direct myself. I call on all Argives to preserve in memory for me, as time goes by, how these evils were brought to pass, and to bear witness for me if Menelaus comes home. Now I go into exile, a wanderer banished from this land, leaving behind me, in life and in death, this reputation – that in revenge for my father I killed my mother.
– Aeschylus, from The Libation-Bearers (458 BC), translated by Alan H. Sommerstein (2008)
*This metaphor is chosen because an arrow shot from a bow could fly higher in the air than anything else man had invented in Aeschylus' time.