Word: caryatid
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...proletariat ever suffer from ennui? Apparently not.) Nothing is happening. A young husband in a stiff jacket and striped pants is poking the fireplace in a desultory way. His wife stares out the window, her back to us. The folds and pleats of her costume, intensely formal, suggest a caryatid--but a caryatid with nothing at all to support and nothing whatever to do. An equally bored-looking cat, if cats can look bored, hesitates between the two of them. The very air is congested with the excessive patterns of a middle-class interior, with its ugly mock-Henri...
...look at great portraits today without a certain nostalgia. The painted portrait is a form that, like blank-verse drama in the theater or the caryatid in architecture, would seem to be on its last legs. Indeed, with few exceptions, it has no legs and seems unlikely to grow new ones. Photography took them away. But older portraits have hardly lost their magic and their grip on the imagination. This is why "Portraits by Ingres: Image of an Epoch," which is on view (through April 25) at the National Gallery in London, and will be seen later this year...
...theatrical only at one point, where it should be: the key exhibits of its architectural section, at the far end of the nave, are two astounding models of the Paris Opera by Richard Peduzzi. One is a transverse section -- the ultimate doll's house, with every balustrade, fresco, gilded caryatid and square of marble inlay faithfully reproduced -- and the other is a site model under a glass floor, so that one walks in air across the entire quartier, like a balloonist...
...gone into displaying the continuities between 19th and 20th century art and correcting the myth that the modern art that mattered represented a wrenching break with the past. Without the culture of the salon and the Academy, no Matisse; you cannot imagine a work like Constantin Brancusi's Caryatid, 1940, without its triple root in the peasant woodcarvings of the artist's native Rumania, his study of African sculpture and his passion for the archaic Mediterranean...
...columns, when Turkish gunpowder stored inside it was hit by true-eyed artillery men of the Venetian Republic, firing near by from the Hill of the Muses? Or that in the 19th century, the seventh Earl of Elgin would carry down from the hill pediment statues and one maidenly caryatid, all doomed to sail in ships made of wood to a foreign place not loved by thundering Zeus, the British Museum...