Tuesday, November 4, 2025

Tenebrous - II

Eugène Cuvelier
Study of Trees
ca. 1852
salted paper print
Museum Ludwig, Cologne

Gustaf Wernersson Cronquist
His Majesty the King at Tullgarn Palace
1937
autochrome
Moderna Museet, Stockholm

Luca Giordano
Samson breaking his Bonds
ca. 1660-65
oil on canvas
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna

Giovanni Costetti
Portrait of a Man
1906
drawing
private collection

Clara E. Sipprell
Scene from an outdoor production of Lysistrata
ca. 1917
platinum print
Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas

Svein Strand
Woman in Mirror III
1991
oil on canvas
Stortingets Kunstsamling, Oslo

Paula Modersohn-Becker
Seated Old Woman
1899
etching and aquatint
Kunsthalle zu Kiel

Vilhelm Hammershøi
An Old Woman
1886
oil on canvas
Hirschsprung Collection, Copenhagen

Laura Gilpin
The Prelude
1917
platinum print
Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas

Baron Adolf De Meyer
Nymphenburg Figure
1912
photogravure
Amon Carter Museum, Fort Worth, Texas

Lovis Corinth
Study for The Lamentation
1908
oil on canvas
Galerie Neue Meister (Albertinum), Dresden

Edgar Degas
Study for Portrait of Mademoiselle Fiocre
in the Ballet, La Source

ca. 1867-68
oil on canvas
Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo, New York

Théodore Géricault
Model posed as Boatman
ca. 1820
oil on canvas
Musée Bonnat-Helleu, Bayonne

Marsden Hartley
Madawaska: Acadian Light-Heavy
1940
oil on panel
Art Institute of Chicago

Edvard Munch
Vampire
1895
color woodblock print and lithograph
Moderna Museet, Stockholm

Théodule Ribot
Leg of Mutton
ca. 1870
oil on canvas
Musée Hébert, Paris

[The Pythia goes into the temple. A moment later she comes out again, terrified, crawling on hands and knees like a baby. It is some time before she can speak.]

Things truly fearful to speak of, fearful to behold with the eyes, have driven me back out of the house of Loxias; they have taken away my strength and made me unable to stand upright, so that I run on my hands instead of making speed with my legs!  A frightened old woman is nothing – or rather no better than a little child!  [Becoming slightly more composed.]  I am on my way to the inner shrine richly hung with wreaths, and there I see a man sitting at the navel-stone as a suppliant for purification, a man polluted in the eyes of the gods, his hands dripping blood, holding a newly-drawn sword and a tall-grown olive branch reverently adorned with a very long wreath of wool, of snow-white fleece (by speaking this way I shall make myself clear).  In front of this man there was an extraordinary band of women, asleep sitting on chairs – no, I won't call them women, but Gorgons; but then I can't liken their form to that of Gorgons either.  I did once see before now, in a painting, female creatures robbing Phineus of his dinner; these ones, though, it is plain to see, don't have wings, and they're black and utterly nauseating.  They're pumping out snores that one doesn't dare come near, and dripping a loathsome drip from their eyes.  And their attire is one that it's not proper to bring either before the images of the gods or under the roofs of men.* I have never seen the tribe to which this company belongs, nor do I know what country boasts that it has reared this race without harm to itself and does not regret the labour of doing so.  

– Aeschylus, from Eumenides (458 BC), translated by Alan H. Sommerstein (2008)

*The Erinyes' dark garments are such as would normally be worn only in token of mourning, and one would never enter a temple, especially of Apollo, so dressed.