You won’t find in the google books scanned copy of Oertel’s book on Goya. I suspect an aesthete liberated it from the U of Michigan copy (bits of student newspaper stuck to the scan). But you can see, even with the poor quality, that the photograph of pre-transfer Saturn shows that jolly filiphage ithyphallic. (I have the book and can confirm.) I would alert the wikipedia entry, but for ennui.
I’m increasingly interested in the work of Paul Laffoley (and hope to see the exhibit running between Jan 4 and Feb 17 at the Kent Gallery). One of the bits of lore that Laffoley tends to repeat in interviews and his writings is that his first word, spoken at six months of age, was “Constantinople.” He then purportedly remained silent for several years afterwards.
Thinking perhaps that the meaning here may be to change the world, not interpret it, I noticed the following from Stefan Collini’s Absent Minds: Intellectuals in Britain: “Trawling through the literature on the Dreyfus affair, I eventually discovered the original of General Mercier’s remarks: ‘At the moment when the Turkish army forced the ramparts of Constantinople, the so-called intellectuals of the capital of the Lower Empire were debating theological quibbles.
Is the title of a painting by Paul Laffoley. One of its features is the Agnosticon, described in Laffoley’s The Phenomenology of Revelation (Kent Fine Art, 1989) this way:
The purpose of this device is to allow its user to engineer their doubt or faith processes. In my opinion, it is necessary to engineer doubt and faith in relation to accelerated space-time frames of reference that would be encountered with the time machine, in order to survive and perceive these unfamiliar world-views.
I have to admit that I’m looking forward to the new Thomas Harris. The Silence of the Lambs, to be conventional, is a much better book than Hannibal, but I think the early Lecter promises to be good material.
I’d recommend to all students of The Day the Earth Stood Still Paul Laffoley’s essay on the subject, “Disco Volante,” available in The UFO Show (University Galleries, 2000): 24-37. Yes, there is some business about an alien nanotechnological implant being discovered near his pineal gland.
From the “DNA of Literature” series of digitized Paris Review interviews (and why hasn’t Denis Johnson gotten one of these yet?), I was pleased to read the following from Aldous Huxley:
Maybe an immensely gifted artist–someone like Odilon Redon (who probably saw the world like this all the time, anyhow)—maybe such a man could profit by the lysergic acid experience, could use his visions as models, could reproduce on canvas the external world as it is transfigured by the drug.
Clancy and I saw the Kroller-Muller travelling Van Gogh-Mondrian exhibit at the High Museum yesterday. In addition to being considerably entranced by Van Gogh’s Cemetery in the Rain, Paris 1886 (what’s happening in the middle?), I was ensorcelled by van der Leck’s stained glass ironic encomium to the mining industry (couldn’t find an online image, though I’m exceptionally lazy when looking for them).
In the High’s permanent collection is one of the most beguiling of Ralph Albert Blakelock’s landscapes as well.