Sunday, March 29, 2026

Convergences - I

Louis Le Nain
Bacchus and Ariadne
ca. 1635
oil on canvas
Musée des Beaux-Art d'Orléans

Nicolas d'Ypres the Elder
St Joachim and St Anne meeting at the Golden Gate
ca. 1499-1500
oil on panel
Musée Comtadin-Duplessis, Carpentras

Franz Wiegele
Nudes in the Forest
1910-11
oil on canvas
Belvedere Museum, Vienna

Andrea Schiavone after Parmigianino
Minerva and the Muses on Mount Helicon
ca. 1540
etching and drypoint
Kupferstichkabinett, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin

Georg Oddner
Sommarparken, Leningrad
1955
gelatin silver print
Moderna Museet, Stockholm

Duane Michals
Paradise Regained
1968
gelatin silver prints
Museum Ludwig, Cologne

Domenico Puligo (Domenico Ubaldini)
Virgin and Child with St Sebastian and St Roch
ca. 1522-23
oil on canvas
Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest

Pierre Puvis de Chavannes
La Source
ca. 1869
oil on canvas
Musée des Beaux-Arts de Reims

Louis de Silvestre
Angelica and Medoro
(scene from Ariosto's Orlando Furioso)
1729-30
oil on canvas
Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Dresden

Jean-Joseph Taillasson
Liberty bringing Justice and Virtue to the People
ca. 1794-95
oil on canvas
Musée de la Révolution Française, Vizille

Jacopo de' Barbari
Figures of Victory and Fame
ca. 1498-1503
engraving
Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna

Erich Heckel
Siblings
1913
woodcut
Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo

Henry Raeburn
The Allen Brothers
ca. 1790-92
oil on canvas
Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas

Antoine-Jean Gros
Portrait of the Maistre Sisters
1796
oil on canvas
Art Institute of Chicago

Johann-Andreas Herrlein
Maria Carolina and Heinrich Carl von Stein zum Altenstein
1769
oil on canvas
Museumslandschaft Hessen Kassel

Johann Sperl
Kindergarten
ca. 1885
oil on canvas
Neue Pinakothek, Munich

We wine-drinkers will pour a libation to Bacchus the awakener of laughter, with the cups we will expel man-killing care. Let toiling rustics supply their bread-tolerating bellies with the mother of black-robed Persephone, and we will leave to wild beasts and birds that feed on raw flesh the copious and bloody banquets of meat of slain bulls. Let us surrender the bones of fish that cut the skin to the lips of men to whom Hades is dearer than the sun. But for us let wine the bountiful be ever food and drink, and let others long for ambrosia. 

Death is a debt due by all men and no mortal knows if he shall be alive to-morrow. Take this well to heart, O man, and make thee merry, since thou possessest wine that is oblivion of death. Take joy too in Aphrodite whilst thou leadest this fleeting life, and give up all else to the control of Fortune. 

As thin little Proclus was blowing the fire the smoke took him up and went off with him from here through the window. With difficulty he swum to a cloud and came down through it wounded in a thousand places by the atomies. 
 
Epicurus wrote that all the world consisted of atoms, thinking, Alcimus, that an atom was the most minute thing. But if Diophantus had existed then he would have written that it consisted of Diophantus, who is much more minute than the atoms. Or he would have written that other things were composed of atoms, but the atoms themselves, Alcimus, of Diophantus. 

The astrologer Diophantus told Hermogenes the doctor that he had only nine months to live, and he, smiling, said, "You understand what Saturn says will happen in nine months, but my treatment is more expeditious for you." Having said so he reached out his hand and only touched him, and Diophantus, trying to drive another to despair, himself gave his last gasp.

Cytotaris with her grey temples, the garrulous old woman who makes Nestor no longer the oldest of men, she who has looked on the light longer than a stag* and has begun to reckon her second old age on her left hand,** is alive and sharp-sighted and firm on her legs like a bride, so that I wonder if something has not befallen Death. 

– from Book XI (Convivial and Satirical Epigrams) of the Greek Anthology, translated and edited by W.R. Paton (1917)

*stags were supposed to live four times as long as the long-lived crow

**the fingers of the right hand were used for counting hundreds and thousands, those of the left for decades and units – meaning that Cytotaris has reached a thousand and is now counting the years of the first century of her next thousand