Thursday, July 23, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Aquamanile... Aristotle Ridden by Phyllis
Aquamanile: Aristotle Ridden by Phyllis, ca. 1400
Southern Netherlands or Eastern France (Lorraine)
Bronze
*An aquamanile is a vessel for pouring water used in the ritual of washing hands in both religious and secular contexts—by the priest before Mass and in a private household before a meal. The subject of this celebrated example is the moralizing legend of Aristotle and Phyllis, which achieved widespread popularity in the late Middle Ages. Aristotle, the Greek philosopher and tutor of Alexander the Great, allowed himself to be humiliated by the seductive Phyllis, Alexander's favorite courtesan, as a lesson to the young ruler, who had succumbed to her wiles and neglected the affairs of state. Encouraging Alexander to witness his folly, Aristotle explained that if he, an old man, could be so easily deceived, the potential consequences for a young man were even more perilous. The ribald subject indicates that this aquamanile was made for a domestic setting, where it would have doubled as an object of entertainment for guests at the table.
Labels:
works of art
Die Macht der Liebe... (The Power of Love)
Hieronymus Hopfer (ca. 1500-1563)
Labels:
Hieronymus Hopfer,
prints
Monday, July 20, 2009
Hayden Carruth 1921-2008...
Anything ends
In its beginning,
The circles turning
Slowly, so slowly,
Quern of the beat
Of the downrunning heart.
The sunlight fell like diamonds
But did not slacken
Remembrance’s forewarning
Of cold and dark to come,
The journey retaken
Without end,
Without end.
—from IV. “Ignis” in Journey to a Known Place (1961) Graphic Arts division GAX Z232.M54C37 1961.
Labels:
hayden Carruth,
poems
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Henriette Hardenberg...1918...
Southern Heart
Blossom sits deeply,
Mountaintips bend themselves into shape,
Wind lies calmly,
The tree stands rigidly.
Then suddenly, comes into bloom
Right into the middle of the heart
Burning, you are sitting in my tree.
Nowhere inside me is calm,
I cry out from within the flames,
an ocean is moving all over.
Then they,too,are twitching,
Blossom and tree,
Already red from being so sweet.
Labels:
Henriette Hardenberg,
poems
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
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