Newer posts are loading.
You are at the newest post.
Click here to check if anything new just came in.

March 22 2017

6009 353f 500
Luna by Léon-François Comerre
Reposted fromNajada Najada
5799 90c6 500
Drowning In The Universe bt Sivan Karim
Reposted fromNajada Najada

March 13 2017

4489 498d 500
Reposted fromNajada Najada
4736 3b0e 500
Reposted fromNajada Najada
5087 e5b2 500
Reposted fromNajada Najada
0483 865e 500
Nocturne In Black And Gold
Reposted fromNajada Najada

March 12 2017

8887 996a
Alejandro Quincoces, Noche verde en New York (Green night in New York)
Reposted fromNajada Najada

March 05 2017

3756 6d94 500
Anders Zorn - Kapprodd (1886)
Reposted fromfajnychnielubie fajnychnielubie

July 10 2015

Part I.

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
           To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
           The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
           Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
           The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow-veil'd
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
           Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
           The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
           Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
           Lady of Shalott."

Part II.

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
           To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
           The Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
           Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
           Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
           Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
           The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
           And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half-sick of shadows," said
           The Lady of Shalott.

Part III.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
           Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A redcross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
           Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle-bells rang merrily
           As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
           Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
           As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
           Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
           As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
           Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
           She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
           The Lady of Shalott.

Part IV.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale-yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
           Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
           The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse –
Like some bold seër in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance –
With a glassy countenance
           Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
           The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right –
The leaves upon her falling light –
Thro' the noises of the night
           She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
           The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
           Turn'd to tower'd Camelot;
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
           The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
A corse between the houses high,
           Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
           The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
           All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
           The Lady of Shalott." Share on Facebook Email this Link
Reposted fromalmondeye almondeye
Reposted fromalmondeye almondeye
Reposted fromalmondeye almondeye
waterhouse
Reposted fromalmondeye almondeye

July 09 2015

David Hockney’s Studio
Reposted fromdauser dauser

June 30 2015

Villa Grisebach, Los 3050, Auktion 245
Freitag, den 03. Juli 2015, 17.00 Uhr

 
Bartholomeus Breenbergh: CIMON UND IPHIGENIA
1638. Öl auf Eichenholz. 60,3 x 53 cm
Mit einem Gutachten von Max J. Friedländer, Berlin, vom 28. November 1926, als „reizvolles, echt signiertes Werk von B. Breenbergh“ (im Original). 

EUR 30.000 – 50.000
US$ 33,500 – 55,800


Amor raubt keineswegs nur den Verstand. „Erwacher des schlafenden Geistes“, so nennt ihn Boccaccio in seinem ersten Gesang des V. Decamerone. Der Dichter veranschaulicht die „heilige Wirkung der Liebe“ anhand eines Exempels: Gales, gutaussehender Sohn eines Edelmannes, war so ungehobelt und unerzogen, daß die Menschen Zyperns ihn Cimone, gleichbedeutend mit Rohling, nannten. Cimones Dummheit ärgerte seinen Vater so arg, daß er den Jungen in die Wildnis schickte. Fernab der Zivilisation lebte er zufrieden bis er auf ein schlafendes Mädchen stieß, Iphigenie.

Ihre Schönheit verwandelt ihn vollkommen. Zum Erstaunen aller kleidet sich der einstige Dummkopf in hübschen Gewändern, knüpft tiefe Beziehungen, erlernt Musik, studiert Philosophie, dichtet und macht seiner Angebeteten den Hof. Der Augenblick des Verliebens ließ ihn schlagartig vom „Wilden“ zu einem besseren Menschen werden, und zum Schluß macht er die Schöne zu seiner glücklichen Frau.

Das Gemälde fällt in die Zeit der Wiederentdeckung antiker Literaturstoffe. Die mythologische „Novella“ Boccaccios begeisterte viele Zeitgenossen Breenberghs und in der Umsetzung war es sein absolutes Lieblingssujet - zwischen 1633 und 1647 hat er diese Szene mindestens siebenmal ganz unterschiedlich variiert.

In der Mitte unserer Fassung liegt Iphigenie, unbekümmert vermittelt sie den Eindruck sich zugleich hilflos hinzugeben und den unbehelligt beobachtenden Cimon lautlos verführen zu wollen. Wie in der literarischen Vorlage ist der Sohn vor Verzückung über den Anblick kontemplativ über seinen Stock gebeugt. Die Gruppe schlafender Frauen ist von besonders feinmalerischer Qualität und Breenbergh verleiht ihnen etwas sehr zartes, fast zerbrechliches. Subtil gelingt es ihm, mit dem sich über Iphigenie erstreckenden, aber abgebrochenen Torbogen der Ruine die sich anbahnende Verbindung zwischen dem zukünftigen Paar anzudeuten. Die lockere Behandlung der von Licht durchsetzten Landschaft ist von jener „zarten Duftigkeit“ (Wolfgang Stechow 1930), die typisch ist für jene Phase Breenberghs, in der nicht zufällig auch seine hochwertigsten Radierungen entstanden. (GvM)
Reposted fromArchimedes Archimedes
Villa Grisebach, Los 3014, Auktion 245
Freitag, den 03. Juli 2015, 17.00 Uhr

 
Meister von Frankfurt: MARIA MIT DEM KINDE
Um 1510. Öl auf Eichenholz. 36,6 x 28,5 cm

EUR 10.000 – 15.000
US$ 11,200 – 16,700


Wegen des Vergleichsbeispiels in Brüssel und ähnlicher Tafeln im Musée des Beaux-Arts in Poitiers sieht Didier Martens einen klaren Bezug zu dem Meister der Magdalenen-Legende. Peter van den Brink sieht hingegen in der Tafel – sowohl wegen der Gestaltung der Komposition als auch der Figuren – zweifelsfrei ein typisches Beispiel des Meisters von Frankfurt.
Reposted fromArchimedes Archimedes

June 29 2015

FORT: The Daily Sun
Gewinner des ART COLOGNE Award for NEW POSITIONS
02. Jul. 2015 – 22. Aug. 2015
artothek, Am Hof 50, 50667 Köln
Reposted fromArchimedes Archimedes

June 24 2015

7355 b0fc 500

Henri Fantin-Latour, Still Life: Corner of a Table

Reposted fromRecklessKid RecklessKid
7348 eb7f
Reposted fromRecklessKid RecklessKid

June 22 2015

Reposted fromalmondeye almondeye
Older posts are this way If this message doesn't go away, click anywhere on the page to continue loading posts.
Could not load more posts
Maybe Soup is currently being updated? I'll try again automatically in a few seconds...
Just a second, loading more posts...
You've reached the end.

Don't be the product, buy the product!

Schweinderl