
Et in Arcadia Ego (Poussin)
Shepherds trace the carved words on a tomb, Even in Arcadia I am here, and Poussin lets death speak without raising its voice.

Shepherds trace the carved words on a tomb, Even in Arcadia I am here, and Poussin lets death speak without raising its voice.

Saint Ursula is on the quay somewhere, but the real subject is the light coming up the water between the palaces at dawn.

The sun sits low over a glassy harbor and floods everything. Turner admired it so much he insisted his own work hang beside it.

Poussin laid the crowd out like a relief so each gesture reads separately, one woman so hungry she nurses her own mother.

Poussin stands in front of his own blank stretched canvases with a portfolio under his arm, presenting himself as a thinker rather than a craftsman.

Ascanius draws his bow on a tame stag, the shot that starts a war in the Aeneid, and Claude paints it as a calm golden evening.

Two heavy young men press close together over a letter, and the intimacy is usually read as a memorial to Apollinaire.