March 11, 1934: At the Istanbul Academy of Art, students studied from classical statues, dug up nearby. Until 1926, Turkish art students were prohibited by the Koran from making representations of the human form — only architecture was taught at the academy previously. Photo: The New York Times
Children watch the story of “Saint George and the Dragon” at an outdoor puppet theater in Paris, 1963.
Photo: Alfred Eisenstaedt
(Source: itadakimashita)
A man feeding swans and ducks from a snowy river bank in Krakow
(Source: nahkanye)
That 1963 disappearance was a scandal. She had been the most beloved of film stars, her handsome face, accepting smile, known to all. And then, suddenly, rudely, without a word of apology, she was going to disappear—to retire.
Here, where the stars hang on, voluntary retirement is unknown, particularly for one the caliber of Setsuko Hara. She had become an ideal: men wanted to marry someone like her; women wanted to be someone like her.
This was because on the screen she reconciled her life as real people cannot. Whatever her role in films—daughter, wife, or mother—she played a woman who at the same time, somehow, was herself. Her social roles did not eclipse that individual self, our Setsuko.
— Donald Richie, Japanese Portraits
Setsuko Hara
Born June 17, 1920
Russian Church in Petrovsky being used as a grainary, 1930
Lady Snowblood, 1973. Dir. Toshiya Fujita.
Yukio Mishima, 1961 by Eikoh Hosoe.
