Sir Nicholas Winton is a humanitarian who organized a rescue operation that saved the lives of 669 Jewish Czechoslovakia children from Nazi death camps, and brought them to the safety of Great Britain between the years 1938-1939.
After the war, his efforts remained unknown. But in 1988, Winton’s wife Grete found the scrapbook from 1939 with the complete list of children’s names and photos. Sir Nicholas Winton is sitting in an audience of Jewish Czechoslovakian people who he saved 50 years before.
"The smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion, but allow very lively debate within that spectrum - even encourage the more critical and dissident views. That gives people the sense that there’s free thinking going on, while all the time the presuppositions of the system are being reinforced by the limits put on the range of the debate."
'This great evil. Where does it come from? How'd it steal into the world? What seed, what root did it grow from? Who's doin' this? Who's killin' us? Robbing us of life and light. Mockin' us with the sight of what we might've known.'
The Thin Red Line (1998)
As the Tate writes, Thomas Benjamin Kennington “was well known for his compelling pictures of the urban poor.”
Kennington painted Homeless in 1890.
He takes a bit of a risk in composing such a deliberately moving scene—he expects to buy with a captured moment what Dickens, for example, purchases with whole chapters of exposition—but to me, Kennington just manages to pull it off.
You might take the woman in black to be the child’s mother, but her mourning clothes are too elegant, her hair too presentable.
She is, for all we can tell, a perfect stranger, who has dropped her bundle of laundry and herself to the wet pavement in order to lift this boy from the pavement—his hat remaining where his head lay moments before.
His weak but arresting gaze is the only sign of life left in him.