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Bruno Munari, from Speak Italian: The Fine Art of the Gesture, 1958 (via)

Cindy ShermanUntitled (#153), 1985

Timm Ulrichs

  1. Ein Stuhl und sein Schatten (A Chair and Its Shadow), 1968/80, Wood, lacquer
  2. Der erste sitzende Stuhl (The First Sitting Chair), 1970, Painted wood

Claude Monet, La maison à travers les roses, 1925

Mark RothkoBlue and Grey, 1962, oil on canvas

I’m not an abstractionist… I’m not interested in relationships of color or forms… I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions—tragedy, ecstasy, doom and so on… The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them.”—Mark Rothko, 1956

Paintings by Vilhelm Hammershøi (1864-1916)

Henri MatisseBlue Nude IV, 1952, gouache on paper cut out

Robert SmithsonSpiral JettyRozel Point, Great Salt Lake, Utah. April 1970, mud, precipitated salt crystals, rocks, water coil 1500’ long and 15’ wide

Sinta Werner and Markus WüsteVersionen, 2009, wood, plaster, paint

Paintings by Hilma af Klint (1862-1944)

Five years before Wassily Kandinsky (he of the book Concerning the Spiritual In Art, 1910), before Piet Mondrian and Kazimir Malevich, before the images of Carl Jung and Rudolf Steiner—who dismissed her ideas as wrong—was this revolutionary artist and abstractionist, Hilma af Klint, possibly the first purely abstract painter to produced non-objective works in the early 1900s.

Hilma af Klint was influenced by contemporary spiritual movements, such as spiritism, theosophy and, later, anthroposophy. Her oeuvre builds on the awareness of a spiritual dimension of consciousness, an aspect that was being marginalised in an increasingly materialistic world. When she painted, she believed that a higher consciousness was speaking through her. In her astonishing works she combines geometric shapes and symbols with ornamentation. Her multifaceted imagery strives to give insights into the different dimensions of existence, where microcosm and macrocosm reflect one another.

Ruth Thorne-Thomson

Fragment of the face of a queen, yellow jasper, c. 1353–1336 B.C. Middle Egypt

Ricardo CasesPaloma al Aire, 2011

Wang Tzu-TingBig wind 2, acrylic and pencil on canvas, 2010

Roman Opalka, details from OPALKA 1965/ 1-, 1965-2011

In 1965, in his studio in Warsaw, Opalka began painting a process of counting—from one to infinity. Starting in the top left-hand corner of the canvas and finishing in the bottom right-hand corner, the tiny numbers are painted in horizontal rows. Each new canvas, which the artist calls a ‘detail’, takes up counting where the last left off. Each ‘detail’ is the same size (196 x 135 cm), the dimension of his studio door in Warsaw. All details have the same title, 1965/1-; the idea does not date although the artist has pledged his life to its execution: ‘All my work is a single thing, the description from number one to infinity. A single thing, a single life.’ (via)

Opalka died on August 6, 2011. The final number he painted was 5,607,249.

"Time as we live it and as we create it embodies our progressive disappearance,” Opalka wrote in an essay in 1987. “We are at the same time alive and in the face of death — that is the mystery of all living beings.”