"We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind. The procession is very long and life is very short. We die on the march. But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it."
- Septimus Hodge in Arcadia by Tom Stoppard (responding to Thomasina’s angst over the lost plays of the ancients)
On Being Small
"I am like every one else in America. I am always wanting to do something big. Only yesterday I walked in the streets of New York thinking of a great novel I might someday write.
I wanted to be a Zola, a Hugo, a Balzac.
What nonsensical thoughts I had.
Why am I not content to be small?”
- Sherwood Anderson, from his essay “Visit to a Painter” from No Swank (1934).
A surprisingly violent children’s story. Probably written for the pleasure of little miscreants.
The nine lives of a cat: a tale of wonder (1860)
by Charles Bennett
found via The Public Domain Review
I’m the one front-middle-left playing the saw! Which one are you?
Deets: “The artistic purgatory, where the calaveras of artists and craftsmen lie” – broadside showing the second level of hell, in which the calaveras of artists and artisans hold objects relating to their profession, including musical instruments, a palette, and paper. Below the main image, the text block consists of eight skulls with objects relating to their profession and short verses that provide attributes (ca.1890-1910)
Source: Library of Congress
(via The Public Domain Review and their post: THE CALAVERAS OF JOSÉ GUADALUPE POSADA)
…And for your random photo of the day:
Young Boy Holding Two Turtles. Panama Pacific International Exposition, San Francisco, 1915. Louis J. Stellman, photographer.
For more great photos, check out our picture collections!
Not sure what makes this a Batik painting, but I like how the overlapping red base(s) contrast with the quick, colorful splotches above them.
"Impressionist Batik painting by a Christian Javanese batik painter named Yanci based in Jogjakarta, Java, Indonesia.”
I mentioned that would dig up info about the artist Boris Solotareff here, and here I return after my brief hiatus bearing this Wikipedia article on Mr. Solotareff. Feel free to add to it, or create/edit articles on artists you like.
After all, Wikipedia won’t write itself!
Jacopo Ligozzi // Romolo di Francesco Ferrucci del Tadda Portrait of Pope Clement VIII (Ippolito Aldobrandini) (1600-1601)
“Commesso can best preserve antiquity and memory…and can resist all the battles of water and wind and other mishaps of fortune and of time.”
Thus Giorgio Vasari wrote of commesso, a newly revived antique technique for making pictures with cut stone. More…
J. Paul Getty Museum (Los Angeles, CA)
fyi, Pope Clemente VIII contributed quite a bit to the Catholic Church, but he wasn’t very good to Jews or Jewish books, evicting the former and banning the latter.
Bang! Bang! With those eyes…
Actress Louise Brooks (1905-1985), date unknown.
Alternate title: Why museums are awesome.
(Seeing a sculpture online or in print just can’t compare.)
I actually got to stand a foot away from Brancusi’s Bird in Space.
I don’t think I’ll get over the fact that I can see the artworks I saw in Bertha (my art history textbook) in real life.
That, and that I can look at something that Picasso, Durer, or Cezanne once looked at.
This person’s mind probably blew up once they saw the second one in the adjacent gallery.
There’s also one at the Norton Simon for what it’s worth and I think you can appreciate it a little better given the Modern wing of the NS is more brightly lit and has more space to walk around than the galleries at LACMA where you see the Picassos.
Still, pretty dope :)
Boris Solotareff Dr. Fernand Cardis (ca. 1920)
The watercolor/graphite combination are the perfect soft touch for this portrait.
Btw, anyone know anything about Boris Solotareff? Oxford Art Online has a mere paragraph.
My super-librarian sleuthing skills are on it. Watch this space for more soon.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York)
No one has ever written eloquently enough about French whiskers.
Sherwood Anderson (Paris Notebook, May 30 1921)