Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
That strange man,” said Guy, “has got the room opposite me.”
We decided that this would be dull for Guy, for we had often seen these strange old men before and knew that they had no interest to offer, except the dull curiosity of asking why they had come to Oxford. And they were nearly always ready to tell their story of miserly saving and the thirst for knowledge. Therefore when, a fortnight later, Guy began to talk of him again, I was considerably surprised.
“You know, he leads an incredible life; my scout told me that he has never been out to a meal or had a single man in to see him. He doesn’t know one of the other freshers and can’t find his way about Oxford. He’s never heard of half the . I think I shall go in and talk to him one evening. Come up with me.”
So one evening at about half past ten, Guy and I went across to this strange man’s
2008年9月29日星期一
2008年9月28日星期日
George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
Bohemians do, we drank a lot, & laughed a lot, and finally all reeled out into the cool air of Regent Street. There were girls with us too, who had their hair cut short though it was not then. The leader of the set was a beautiful youth with red-gold hair whom we all called Ronald. I never learned his sirname though I met him continually for the next year and shared his studio with him. He painted fierce warm-colored ‘abstractions’ in tremendous bouts of energy which left him lethargic and apathetic. He was a great friend of mine in the year I spent in our sham Quartier Latin. For after that night I left the Jews and spent my time with the young art students and futurists. We were a happy enough lot and I should always have looked back to that year as the best of my l if —
“Well, during that year I painted as I have never painted before or since. I painted as I knew I ought to without convention or restraint. I exhibited at the Mansard Gallery and in
Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
Bohemians do, we drank a lot, & laughed a lot, and finally all reeled out into the cool air of Regent Street. There were girls with us too, who had their hair cut short though it was not then. The leader of the set was a beautiful youth with red-gold hair whom we all called Ronald. I never learned his sirname though I met him continually for the next year and shared his studio with him. He painted fierce warm-colored ‘abstractions’ in tremendous bouts of energy which left him lethargic and apathetic. He was a great friend of mine in the year I spent in our sham Quartier Latin. For after that night I left the Jews and spent my time with the young art students and futurists. We were a happy enough lot and I should always have looked back to that year as the best of my l if —
“Well, during that year I painted as I have never painted before or since. I painted as I knew I ought to without convention or restraint. I exhibited at the Mansard Gallery and in
2008年9月25日星期四
Joseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway painting
Joseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway paintingGustave Courbet Marine paintingGustave Courbet Woman with a Parrot painting
subjects.”
“There is nothing I can do.”
“No, I suppose not. Nor in America?”
“Still less there.”
“So I told my wife. But she is a Czech and so more hopeful. We Croats do not hope. It would be a great honour if you would come and explain these things to her. She will not believe me when I say there is no hope. I promised I would bring you.”
So Scott-King dressed and was led through the heat to a new quarter on the edge of the town, to a block of flats.
“We came here because of the elevator. My wife was so weary of Neutralian stairs. But alas the elevator no longer works.”
They trudged to the top floor, to a single sitting room full of children, heavy with the smell of and cigarette smoke.
“I am ashamed to receive you in a house without an elevator,” said Mme. Antonic in French; then turning to the children, she addressed them in another tongue. They bowed, curtsied, and left the room. Mme. Antonic prepared and
subjects.”
“There is nothing I can do.”
“No, I suppose not. Nor in America?”
“Still less there.”
“So I told my wife. But she is a Czech and so more hopeful. We Croats do not hope. It would be a great honour if you would come and explain these things to her. She will not believe me when I say there is no hope. I promised I would bring you.”
So Scott-King dressed and was led through the heat to a new quarter on the edge of the town, to a block of flats.
“We came here because of the elevator. My wife was so weary of Neutralian stairs. But alas the elevator no longer works.”
They trudged to the top floor, to a single sitting room full of children, heavy with the smell of and cigarette smoke.
“I am ashamed to receive you in a house without an elevator,” said Mme. Antonic in French; then turning to the children, she addressed them in another tongue. They bowed, curtsied, and left the room. Mme. Antonic prepared and
Vincent van Gogh Vase with Twelve Sunflowers painting
Vincent van Gogh Vase with Twelve Sunflowers paintingVincent van Gogh The Olive Trees paintingVincent van Gogh Still Life with Open Bible painting
Hullo, you two,” he said, “would you like to make yourselves useful? My press has arrived. I thought you might help put it together.” He led them into his room, where half-opened crates filled most of the floor. “It was all in one piece when I bought it. All I’ve got to go on is this.” He showed them a woodcut in an old book. “They didn’t change much from Caxton’s day until the steam presses came in. This one is about a hundred years old.”
“Damned sweat,” muttered Tamplin.
“And here, young Ryder, is the ‘movable type’ you deplore so much.”
“What sort of type is it, sir?”
“We’ll have to find out. I bought the whole thing in one lot from a village stationer.”
They took out letters at random, set them, and took an impression by pressing them, inked, on a sheet of paper. Mr. Graves had an album of typefaces.
“They all look the same to me,” said Tamplin.
In spite of his prejudice, Charles was interested. “I’ve got it, I think, sir; Baskerville.”
“No. Look at the serifs. How about Caslon Old Style?”
At last it was identified. Then Charles found a box full of ornamental initials, menu
Hullo, you two,” he said, “would you like to make yourselves useful? My press has arrived. I thought you might help put it together.” He led them into his room, where half-opened crates filled most of the floor. “It was all in one piece when I bought it. All I’ve got to go on is this.” He showed them a woodcut in an old book. “They didn’t change much from Caxton’s day until the steam presses came in. This one is about a hundred years old.”
“Damned sweat,” muttered Tamplin.
“And here, young Ryder, is the ‘movable type’ you deplore so much.”
“What sort of type is it, sir?”
“We’ll have to find out. I bought the whole thing in one lot from a village stationer.”
They took out letters at random, set them, and took an impression by pressing them, inked, on a sheet of paper. Mr. Graves had an album of typefaces.
“They all look the same to me,” said Tamplin.
In spite of his prejudice, Charles was interested. “I’ve got it, I think, sir; Baskerville.”
“No. Look at the serifs. How about Caslon Old Style?”
At last it was identified. Then Charles found a box full of ornamental initials, menu
2008年9月24日星期三
Marc Chagall Paris Through the Window painting
Marc Chagall Paris Through the Window paintingMarc Chagall Lovers in the Moonlight paintingMarc Chagall Adam and Eve painting
“Does Lucy mind?”
“Of course she minds. It’s driving us both nuts. Does she write you a lot of letters?”
“Yes.”
“What does she say?”
“I don’t read them. I feel as though they were meant for somebody else. Besides they’re in pencil.”
“I expect she writes them in bed. No one’s ever gone for me like that.”
“Nor for me,” I said. “It’s not really at all disagreeable.”
“I daresay not,” said Roger. “I thought only actors and sex-novelists and clergymen came in for it.”
“No, no, anybody may—scientists, politicians, professional cyclists—anyone whose name gets into the papers. It’s just that young girls are naturally religious.”
“Julia’s eighteen.”
“She’ll get over it soon. She’s been stirred up by suddenly meeting me in the flesh after two or three years’ distant devotion. She’s a nice child.”
“Does Lucy mind?”
“Of course she minds. It’s driving us both nuts. Does she write you a lot of letters?”
“Yes.”
“What does she say?”
“I don’t read them. I feel as though they were meant for somebody else. Besides they’re in pencil.”
“I expect she writes them in bed. No one’s ever gone for me like that.”
“Nor for me,” I said. “It’s not really at all disagreeable.”
“I daresay not,” said Roger. “I thought only actors and sex-novelists and clergymen came in for it.”
“No, no, anybody may—scientists, politicians, professional cyclists—anyone whose name gets into the papers. It’s just that young girls are naturally religious.”
“Julia’s eighteen.”
“She’ll get over it soon. She’s been stirred up by suddenly meeting me in the flesh after two or three years’ distant devotion. She’s a nice child.”
2008年9月22日星期一
Frida Kahlo The Frame painting
Frida Kahlo The Frame paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Necklace painting
last visit to him; it represented an old shipwright pondering on the idle dockyard where lay the great skeleton of the Cunarder that was later to be known as the Queen Mary. It was to have been called “Too Big?” My father had given the man a grizzled beard and was revelling in it. That was the last time I saw him.
I had given up living in St. John’s Wood for four or five years. There was never a definite moment when I “left.” For all official purposes the house remained my domicile. There was a bedroom that was known as mine; I kept several trunks full of clothes there and a shelf or two of books. I never set up for myself anywhere else, but during the last five years of my father’s I do not suppose I slept ten nights under his roof. This was not due to any estrangement. I enjoyed his company, and he seemed to enjoy mine; had I settled there permanently, with a servant of my own and a separate telephone number, we might have lived together comfortably enough, but I was never in London for more than a week or two at a time, and I found that as an occasional visitor I strained and upset my father’s
last visit to him; it represented an old shipwright pondering on the idle dockyard where lay the great skeleton of the Cunarder that was later to be known as the Queen Mary. It was to have been called “Too Big?” My father had given the man a grizzled beard and was revelling in it. That was the last time I saw him.
I had given up living in St. John’s Wood for four or five years. There was never a definite moment when I “left.” For all official purposes the house remained my domicile. There was a bedroom that was known as mine; I kept several trunks full of clothes there and a shelf or two of books. I never set up for myself anywhere else, but during the last five years of my father’s I do not suppose I slept ten nights under his roof. This was not due to any estrangement. I enjoyed his company, and he seemed to enjoy mine; had I settled there permanently, with a servant of my own and a separate telephone number, we might have lived together comfortably enough, but I was never in London for more than a week or two at a time, and I found that as an occasional visitor I strained and upset my father’s
2008年9月21日星期日
Vincent van Gogh Cornfield with Cypresses painting
Vincent van Gogh Cornfield with Cypresses paintingUnknown Artist Ford Smith Just Between Us paintingUnknown Artist Apple Tree with Red Fruit painting
Gervase—so like Tom but more handsome; with all Tom’s charm but with more personality. Beset with these thoughts, she rolled on the hard and irregular bed until dawn began to show through the lancet window of the Victorian-baronial turret. She loved that turret for all its discomfort. It was so antique.
XII
Mrs. Kent-Cumberland was an active woman. It was less than ten days after the MacDougals’ visit that she returned triumphantly from a day in London. After dinner, when she sat alone with Tom in the small drawing-room, she said:
“You’ll be very much surprised to hear who I saw to day. Gladys.”
“Gladys?”
“Gladys Cruttwell.”
“Good heavens. Where on earth did you meet her?”
“It was quite by chance,” said his mother vaguely. “She is working there now.”
“How was she?”
“Very pretty. Prettier, if anything.”
Gervase—so like Tom but more handsome; with all Tom’s charm but with more personality. Beset with these thoughts, she rolled on the hard and irregular bed until dawn began to show through the lancet window of the Victorian-baronial turret. She loved that turret for all its discomfort. It was so antique.
XII
Mrs. Kent-Cumberland was an active woman. It was less than ten days after the MacDougals’ visit that she returned triumphantly from a day in London. After dinner, when she sat alone with Tom in the small drawing-room, she said:
“You’ll be very much surprised to hear who I saw to day. Gladys.”
“Gladys?”
“Gladys Cruttwell.”
“Good heavens. Where on earth did you meet her?”
“It was quite by chance,” said his mother vaguely. “She is working there now.”
“How was she?”
“Very pretty. Prettier, if anything.”
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