The Cello Player
Gustave Jean Jacquet
Raphael and La Fornarina
Bernard van Orley - Maria & Child (~1516)
In her hand, Mary holds a pear, one of the fruits of Paradise, which presents her as the new Eve. The Christ Child sits on her knees and plays with its opposite, a rosary that alludes to the Passion. Saint John, as a boy, stands behind a column, pointing to the Sacred Scriptures that announce Christ’s mission as savior, which is the message that underlies this devout representation of the Virgin and Child. The scene takes place under renaissance architecture in the form of a gallery or observatory open to a garden. Behind it lies a broad landscape with a river.
Between 1515 and 1520, van Orley made several works on the same subject, but this one stands out for its background, as well as for the couple in the garden with their backs to the viewer. These are similar to what is depicted in Jan van Eyck’s Madonna of Chancellor Rolin, at the Louvre in Paris.
Gustave Jean Jacquet
John Bunyan - A Mapp Shewing The Order & Causes of Salvation & Damnation (1691). [x]
> Engraving by William Marshall.
An Interesting Book
My heart is by dejection, clay,
And by self-murder, red.
From this red earth, O Father, purge away
All vicious tinctures, that new-fashioned
I may rise up from death, before I’m dead. —
John Donne (via a-pilgrims-diary).
From John Donne. A Litany.
Ladies with a Gentleman in a Top Hat (1888). Julius LeBlanc Stewart (French, Realism, 1855-1919). Oil on canvas.
The gentleman, said to be Comte Ludovic Napoleon Lepic (1839-1889), is conversing with two ladies in a gallery, possibly at the Paris Salon of 1888. Ludovic Lepic was quite the renaissance man, many-talented and much-liked. An artist in his own right, he studied under Cabanel and Gleyre.
Let us leave modern men to their ‘truths’ and let us only be concerned about one thing: to keep standing amid a world of ruins. — Julius Evola (via hyperb0rean)
18th Century Fox -
Some of those on the right who call themselves “Burkean conservatives” seem to have picked that adjective with this devolution in mind. By identifying with the 18th-century statesmen, these 21st-century conservatives may be indicating an affection for tradition or chivalry, but they are also indicating their own intellectual sophistication. Their arguments were not learned from talk radio. They read books and dislike shouting. Hence the emphasis on the mild and reflective Burkean “temperament” by dissident conservatives like Andrew Sullivan and David Brooks, and hence their detection of it in our bookish-seeming but otherwise entirely un-Burkean president. In a 2010 column Brooks detailed the specific ways modern American politics had, in his estimation, betrayed Edmund Burke’s legacy. The list of offenses climaxed with “polemicists of left and right” and their “ideological Jacobin style of politics.” The gist of all this is that Edmund Burke never had to put up with, and never would have put up with, anything as vulgar as talk radio or Crossfire.