"Life, Legend, Landscape" presents a rich selection of Victorian drawings and watercolors from the Courtauld Gallery collection, ranging from finished watercolors intended for public exhibition to informal sketches and preparatory drawings for paintings or sculpture. The selection includes a study by Edwin Landseer for the famous lions used at the base of Nelson's column in Trafalgar Square, London; the Pre-Raphaelite painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti's intimate portrait of his muse, Elizabeth Siddal, seated at her easel; Whistler's delicate study of the young Elinor Leyland, and Fredrick Walker's outstanding The Old Farm Garden.

The friendship between William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones began when they met as undergraduates in 1853 and-despite their differences in temperament and in attitudes to political engagement-lasted until Morris's death in 1896. This friendship was one of the defining features of both their lives, and yet the overlap in their artistic projects has not previously been considered in detail. In this deeply thoughtful book, Caroline Arscott explores particular aspects of the paintings of Burne-Jones and the designs of Morris and concludes that there are close interconnections in theme, allusion, and formal strategy between the works of the two men. She suggests that themes of bodily pain, desire and appetite are central to their vision. Through careful readings of Burne-Jones's painting and Morris's designs for printed wallpapers and textiles, she shows that it is possible to bring together fine art and design in a linked discussion that illuminates the projects of both artists. Published for the Paul Mellon Centre for Studies in British Art

Art History and Emergency assesses art history's role and responsibilities in what has been described as the "humanities crisis"-the perceived decline in the practical applications of the humanities in modern times. This timely collection of critical essays and creative pieces addresses several thought-provoking questions on the subject. For instance, as this so-called crisis is but the latest of many, what part has "crisis" played in the humanities' history? How are artists, art historians, and professionals in related disciplines responding to current pressures to prove their worth? How does one defend the practical value of knowing how to think deeply about objects and images without losing the intellectual intensity that characterizes the best work in the discipline? Does art history as we know it have a future? Distributed for the Clark Art Institute