Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth
Time, when it is left to itself and no definite demands are made on it, cannot be trusted to move at any recognized pace. Usually it loiters, but just when one has come to count upon its slowness, it may suddenly break into a wild irrational gallop.
“Roman Vishniac often cut his negatives apart and seldom labeled them, so Maya Benton, the adjunct curator at the ICP who oversees the photographer’s vast archive, is accustomed to finding pictures she can’t identify…
Within a year, the entire archive will be available online, shared digitally with the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Viewers will be able to upload comments, identification, and historical information, helping scholars to solve some of the mysteries that remain in those thousands of mute negatives.”
Art…must do something more than give pleasure: it should relate to our own life so as to increase our energy of spirit.
Sir Kenneth Clark, Looking at Pictures
Hennepin Ave at N 6th St in 1973. Love the Moby Dick’s sign. (via From the Archives: Vintage Makeover Ideas for a Downtown Thoroughfare — Centerpoints — Walker Art Center)
Either you think — or else others have to think for you and take power from you, pervert and discipline your natural tastes, civilize and sterilize you.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night
Swooning over Liz Taylor and Montgomery Clift in these photos.