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| Alexei Jawlensky Landscape near Oberstdorf 1912 oil on board Kunstmuseum, The Hague |
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| Carl Ludwig Jessen The Blue Parlor 1912 oil on canvas Nordsee Museum, Husum, Germany |
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| Bart van der Leck The Sick Man 1912 tempera on canvas Kunstmuseum, The Hague |
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| Max Liebermann Groom with Horse 1912 oil on board Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne |
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| Franz Marc Monkey 1912 oil on canvas Lenbachhaus, Munich |
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| Henri Matisse Studio with Goldfish 1912 oil on canvas Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia |
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| Piet Mondrian Large Nude 1912 oil on canvas Kunstmuseum, The Hague |
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| Gabriele Münter Still Life with Queen 1912 oil on canvas Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Odilon Redon Profile and Flowers 1912 pastel on paper McNay Art Museum, San Antonio, Texas |
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| August Sander Farming Couple - Propriety and Harmony 1912 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Egon Schiele Mother and Child 1912 oil on panel Leopold Museum, Vienna |
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| John Sloan Red Kimono on the Roof 1912 oil on canvas Indianapolis Museum of Art |
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| Maurice Utrillo Saint-Ouen 1912 oil on canvas McNay Art Museum, San Antonio, Texas |
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| Curt Vogt F.M. Lenzner, Stettin 1912 lithograph (poster) Kunstbibliothek, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin |
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| Eduard Weingärtner Interior 1912 photogravure Kunstbibliothek, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin |
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| Anders Zorn Bather 1912 etching Loeb Art Center, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, New York |
Archaeology
The archaeologist's spade
delves into dwellings
vacancied long ago,
unearthing evidence
of life – ways no one
would dream of leading now,
concerning which he has not much
to say that he can prove –
the lucky man!
Knowledge may have its purposes,
but guessing is always
more fun than knowing.
We do know that Man,
from fear or affection,
has always graved His dead.
What disastered a city,
volcanic effusion,
fluvial outrage,
or a human horde,
agog for slaves and glory,
is visually patent,
and we're pretty sure that,
as soon as palaces were built,
their rulers,
though gluttoned on sex
and blanded by flattery,
must often have yawned.
But do grain-pits signify
a year of famine?
Where a coin-series
peters out, should we infer
some major catastrophe?
Maybe. Maybe.
From murals and statues
we get a glimpse of what
the Old Ones bowed down to,
but cannot conceit
in what situations they blushed
or shrugged their shoulders.
Poets have learned us their myths,
but just how did They take them?
That's a stumper.
When Norsemen heard thunder,
did they seriously believe
Thor was hammering?
No, I'd say: I'd swear
that men have always lounged in myths
as Tall Stories,
that their real earnest
has been to grant excuses
for ritual actions.
Only in rites
can we renounce our oddities
and be truly entired.
Not that all rites
should be equally fonded:
some are abominable.
There's nothing the Crucified
would like less
than butchery to appease Him.
CODA
From Archaeology
one moral, at least, may be drawn,
to wit, that all
our school text-books lie.
What they call History
is nothing to vaunt of,
being made, as it is,
by the criminal in us:
goodness is timeless.
– W.H. Auden (1973)