Looking Up

Larry Wolf, Looking Up (2025)

Young Sophocles

John Talbott Donoghue, Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of
Victory after the Battle of Salamis (1885/cast 1911)
Art Institute of Chicago, Gift of Robert Allerton

1853 - sculptor John Talbott Donoghue born in Chicago

Chicago Inter-Ocean, Monday Morning
February13, 1882 
(from the Internet Archive)

1882 - Oscar Wilde, on tour in Chicago, praised Donoghue: “more beautiful than the work of any sculptor I have seen yet, and of whom you should all be proud”

"Here is a plaque he designed for one of my poems - a figure of a girl - so simple, so powerful, so pretty. It is perfect"

John Donoghue, Plaque of Isola Wilde

1885 - Donoghue created Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of Victory after the Battle of Salamis

1890 - Isabella Gardner acquired a bronze of Young Sophocles in Venice

John Talbott Donoghue, Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of
Victory after the Battle of Salamis (1890)
Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

1893 - Young Sophocles was exhibited at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago.  Multiple biographical posts about Donoghue claim that it won a first prize however it is not listed in the awards records of the Exposition at the Chicago History Museum. There were many fans of the work (Oscar Wilde, Isabella Stewart Gardner, Robert Allerton), but not everyone liked it (see review, below).

"The Young Sophocles Leading the Chorus of Victory After the Battle of Salamis," by John Donoghue, is of the French school, adapting modern treatment to studies of the antique. It is not an attractive composition, and is in more than questionable taste. True, that after the battle of Salamis he was chosen to head the chorus of boys at the celebration of that victory; but one cannot imagine the great dramatist posing as a lad nude and with a lyre in hand. Though lads went naked on such occasions, it is not the guise or attitude that one is apt to associate with this the great master of tragedy. The figure is well enough in its way, with erect and supple carriage, head thrown back, and earnest thoughtful features; but it is not suggestive of anyone in particular, and certainly not of Sophocles, either as a youth or at any other period of his life.

The Book of the Fair by Hubert Howe Bancroft (1893)

Also intended for the Exposition was The Genius of America. The 30-foot sculpture was shipped from Rome to Brooklyn, where, according to the Boston Herald, it sat on the docks, “a huge bill for trans-shipment confronting the artist.” Left unclaimed, it was broken to pieces by dockworkers to make room for incoming shipments. 

1888 - Donoghue moved to Boston, where he exhibited his work at Horticultural Hall to great acclaim.

1903 - John Donoghue died in New York by suicide (NYTimes and Irish Boston website)

1911 - Robert Allerton gifted a casting of Young Sophocles to the Art Institute of Chicago. Allerton had spent time at the Columbian Exposition in 1893 and may have seen the sculpture there.

1917 - the Metropolitan Museum (NY) purchased a plaster cast from the Art Institute of Chicago, and ten years later, their bronze was replicated from it. 

[Wikipedia states that there’s a copy of Young Sophocles at the Honolulu Museum of Art. A search of their database finds an entry for John Talbott Donoghue, though there’s no image and no metadata. It’s possible that Robert Allerton had a copy of the sculpture in his personal collection which was donated to the HMOA.]

Canalscape

John Jacobsen, Evening Canalscape (2000-2025)

Prologue to the Present

Larry Wolf (2018)

Twists and turns seem like a direct path in retrospect. One recent (not so recent) piece of my story of how I got here, making photographs and generally creating art (photos, zines, poetry, drawing, painting) dates from 2018 and 2019.

2018 - August

Rather than give in to obsessive thoughts of a new camera, I ordered The Soul of the Camera by David duChemin. It's about the photographer.

2019 - January

I was in dialogue with Shawn Rowe about his upcoming photography class, looking to catch up on the changes in thinking about and making photographs since my last immersion in the 1970s. It's about making photographs.

2019 - September

While in DC for HIMSS Health IT week, I was transfixed by the shifting light and shadows in my hotel room and captured a series of 18 images over the course of one minute. Noticing something visually compelling. Holding a camera. In the flow. Something about that minute felt so right, so what I wanted to be doing. Without thought, I was on the other side of the decision. Be a photographer.

Larry Wolf, More Or Less Transparent - Overview Grid, September 2019

Larry Wolf,
Robert Aitken's Present 1935 (2019)

Present - The Past Is Prologue

During that September in 2019, I walked past this sculpture and inscription at the National Archives. A quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest: "What is past is prologue." The sculpture is titled "Present". I photographed that sculpture multiple times over the years. I keep circling myself. 

2021 - January

Zine making became the answer to What do I do with my photographs? Zines are what I bring with me when I meet friends for coffee, have with me for when I meet someone new, are the form I've adopted for my contact info. Again it was Shawn Rowe who was my teacher. Thank you, Shawn.

2025 - August

Larry Wolf, More or Less Transparent (2025)
Printed at Matiz Press

I reprinted More or Less Transparent as a risographed booklet. In blue because that seemed like the best of the color options. It's been growing on me. Something ethereal and dreamy in the blue, lighter than I imagined, opening more visual space for the viewer. A gentle touch of image on paper in hand. 

Memory of June 1994

Silent Running

An evening celebration

Let’s meet people 

Establish my presence

Or at least an awareness

Of them

Perhaps

Of me

Alone at a full table

They know each other

Know each other well

Years of living

Years of loving

Years of tears

And cheers

And burials

And marches

Tonight, acknowledged

For of by the all of us

All of them

I know the causes they work for

I know the forces they work against

Just not here

Had I been in Montpelier

Or Burlington

Or Saint Johnsbury

Or Brattleboro

I would have known them

All of them

Might have been on the podium handing out an award

I had to leave

Staying was killing me

Here

Alone

Lost

On edge

I flee

Way before last call

Way before awkward goodbyes and see you soons

Ripped up decades of connection

Shred my heart

Left the cool mountains

For this sweltering swamp

Alone in a hostile world 

Smothered in southern gentility

Inner rage 

Quiet street

Back stairs

Bare apartment

Hum of air conditioning

Staring out at treetops

Wishing for a thunderstorm 

Dance in the downpour

Many reasons to have left

Many reasons to have come 

Dry tears of unresolved loss

-- Larry Wolf, 31 July 2025

remembering June 1994

[Index of Poems]

Empty

 (1)

Chairs

Cups

Tea

Gone

Once

Voices

Paused

Quiet 

Glance 

Eyes

Held

Abyss

Loss

Too sad to cry

Beyond words

Space

 

(2)

Woods (chopped down)

Exotic (slave labor in a rain forest)

Local (clearcut off stolen land)

Metal (extracted from strip mines)

Space (held at great expense)

Polished (by workers, unacknowledged)

Street (cleared of all drifters)

Shadows (not enough to hide in)

Hazy (lost in memory)

Alone (with my lover)

Travelers (from afar)

Evidence (just this)

 

-- Larry Wolf, 28 July 2025

[Index of Poems]

Larry Wolf, Two Chairs (2025)

Me and Rimbaud

Larry Wolf, Arthur and Larry and Larry and Arthur (2025)

Arthur and Larry and Larry and Arthur

Many

Generations apart

Continents apart

Connected

In his web

Paul

David

Patti

Gay Sunshine chapbook - A Lover’s Cock

Collected poems and poems and poems and letters

Imaginings of Java and Abyssinia

Fragments

David made a mask

From a photograph

Friends wore it

He photographed

The mask became a pin

Souvenir from an exhibition

Rebel artists brought into the canon

I wear it

Explaining, always explaining

A zine of explanation

Grit became polished

Raw edges still present

Almost twice Arthur’s age

Almost twice David’s age

Patti recites the poems

I look over my shoulder

At sixteen

Burst on the scene

At twenty one

A last poem

Yet

A century later

Here I am

His descendant

-- Larry Wolf, 28 July 2025

[Index of Poems]

[Photo at The First Homosexuals exhibition. See also Two Bad Boy Artists and At 17 and 170.]