(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
7. The Victorian Period
There was nothing even remotely reminiscent of the classic about a wasp waist, enormous puffed sleeves and wide skirts.
The year 1837 brough Victoria to the English throne, and whether or not that royal lady was responsible for the attitude of mind that marked her reign, the term ‘Victorian’ has come to mean a certain point of view and code of manners. It was the age of romance, or rather, it might be called the age of romantic posing—the day when sweet Alice wept with delight when you gave her a smile and trembled with fear at your frown. Sensibilities were cultivated to excess, and the perfect lady was expected to faint gracefully on the slightest provocation. By the same token men were under obligation chivalrously to protect and guide delicate, fragile, and preferably unintelligent womanhood. ‘Be good sweet maid and let who will be clever.’
Jewelry faithfully followed the trend. The cameo still held a place but rather as a demure jewel of refinement than because of its classic origin. The lapidary of the period supplied his customers with designs based on the Greek but prettified to meet the taste of the day. In accordance with the sentiment of chivalry there was a revival of Gothic design—knights in full armor, elegant lords and ladies of King Arthur’s Court made their romantic way back to earth in miniature on jewels of the period. And as crowning victory of sentiment in ornament came hair jewelry, more elaborate than that which had existed, to a limited extent, in former times. Further details concerning it will be given when we discuss the American version of ‘hairwork’.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Plastic Deformation + Cathode Luminescence In Diamond
I found the article by Hisao Kanda + Hiroshi Kitawaki + Ahmadjan Abduriym on the concept of plastic deformation in treated diamonds via HPHT treatment @ http://www.gaaj-zenhokyo.co.jp/researchroom/2004/2004_03-01en.html useful.
Anthony d'Offay
As an act of artistic philanthropy, the London dealer Anthony d'Offay is giving over almost his entire collection - now conservatively valued at £125m - for the price he paid originally to the nation + Good for the art world!
Useful links:
http://www.doffay.com/artists/index.html
http://arts.guardian.co.uk/art/news/story/0,,2260249,00.html
Useful links:
http://www.doffay.com/artists/index.html
http://arts.guardian.co.uk/art/news/story/0,,2260249,00.html
The Outsider
The book The Outsider by Albert Camus (Author) + Joseph Laredo (Translator) is thought-provoking + wonderfully descriptive with many layers of meaning + I liked it.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
6. The French Influence
The French Revolution, the four-year period of the Directoire, the accession of Napoleon, and the fact that the French painter, Jacques Louis David, won the Prix de Rome—all these events found varied reflection in the jewelry of the nineteenth century. Not that there was any startlingly new characteristic development in the technical craft of the jeweler, quite the contrary. But current events set the fashion, and during such unrestful times fashion changes rapidly; the craftsman is required to follow, not to lead it.
One marked change of custom that has persisted ever since, began at this time. Men ceased to wear an extravagant amount jewelry. Whereas they had in the past rivaled women in the splendor of their adornments, they now contented themselves with bunches of seals at the fobs, a ring or two and little else. Occasionally a fop would go so far as to wear earrings; if ridiculed for vanity, he had the excuse that piercing the ears and wearing earrings was a therapeutic measure. Earrings prevented eye diseases, a supersitition widely prevalent then and still existing among certain peasants today.
Since the middle of the preceding century the classic cameo and its imitations had been gaining favor; but now the fashions of ancient Greece and Rome came to a second blossoming that touched and colored many things besides jewelry. Architecture, furniture, and women’s clothes went pseudo-classic with a vengeance.
The painter, David, returning from his studies in Rome, brought back to France, and there succeeded in spreading, his own excessive enthusiasm for the classic. Despite the fact that the climate of France was not suited to scant attire in winter, fashionable ladies would bravely face the chill outdoors clad in clinging gown with very little in the way of undergarments. They went bare-headed and without shoes and stockings, wearing instead sandals that showed their toes, on which they wore jeweled rings.
Of course the type of jewel adjudged most appropriate with such a costume was the cameo or intaglio, particularly as the Empress Josephine had developed a veritable passion for these gems. She had even inveigled Napoleon into letting her have a number of cameos and intaglios which were a part of the gem collection in the Royal Library.
It had become the custom to have jewels made into parures—matching sets of necklace, brooch, and earrings; and in the form of a parure Josephine wore her antique gems.
Fortunately for us, David painted many portraits of famous ladies of the Empire Period, and lovingly portrayed the jewelry worn by them.
As a matter of fact the classic fashions of the early nineteenth century bore about the same relation to the ancient Greek styles as some of our old houses, with their fluted wooden pillars painted white in imitation of marble, bear to Greek temples. The derivation was manifest, but ‘improvements’ were added. The same thing happened to jewels: cameos, no longer in plain settings, were mounted with flashing gems and thus lost their simple severity. If genuine antique gems were too costly for the less wealthy, imitations were substituted.
Greek styles did not last very long. By 1830, they were out of date.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
6. The French Influence
The French Revolution, the four-year period of the Directoire, the accession of Napoleon, and the fact that the French painter, Jacques Louis David, won the Prix de Rome—all these events found varied reflection in the jewelry of the nineteenth century. Not that there was any startlingly new characteristic development in the technical craft of the jeweler, quite the contrary. But current events set the fashion, and during such unrestful times fashion changes rapidly; the craftsman is required to follow, not to lead it.
One marked change of custom that has persisted ever since, began at this time. Men ceased to wear an extravagant amount jewelry. Whereas they had in the past rivaled women in the splendor of their adornments, they now contented themselves with bunches of seals at the fobs, a ring or two and little else. Occasionally a fop would go so far as to wear earrings; if ridiculed for vanity, he had the excuse that piercing the ears and wearing earrings was a therapeutic measure. Earrings prevented eye diseases, a supersitition widely prevalent then and still existing among certain peasants today.
Since the middle of the preceding century the classic cameo and its imitations had been gaining favor; but now the fashions of ancient Greece and Rome came to a second blossoming that touched and colored many things besides jewelry. Architecture, furniture, and women’s clothes went pseudo-classic with a vengeance.
The painter, David, returning from his studies in Rome, brought back to France, and there succeeded in spreading, his own excessive enthusiasm for the classic. Despite the fact that the climate of France was not suited to scant attire in winter, fashionable ladies would bravely face the chill outdoors clad in clinging gown with very little in the way of undergarments. They went bare-headed and without shoes and stockings, wearing instead sandals that showed their toes, on which they wore jeweled rings.
Of course the type of jewel adjudged most appropriate with such a costume was the cameo or intaglio, particularly as the Empress Josephine had developed a veritable passion for these gems. She had even inveigled Napoleon into letting her have a number of cameos and intaglios which were a part of the gem collection in the Royal Library.
It had become the custom to have jewels made into parures—matching sets of necklace, brooch, and earrings; and in the form of a parure Josephine wore her antique gems.
Fortunately for us, David painted many portraits of famous ladies of the Empire Period, and lovingly portrayed the jewelry worn by them.
As a matter of fact the classic fashions of the early nineteenth century bore about the same relation to the ancient Greek styles as some of our old houses, with their fluted wooden pillars painted white in imitation of marble, bear to Greek temples. The derivation was manifest, but ‘improvements’ were added. The same thing happened to jewels: cameos, no longer in plain settings, were mounted with flashing gems and thus lost their simple severity. If genuine antique gems were too costly for the less wealthy, imitations were substituted.
Greek styles did not last very long. By 1830, they were out of date.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
The Pre-Raphaelites
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
When he was twelve years old he painted his first picture in oils, and in 1845, when he was sixteen, he was able to earn £100 a year by painting in backgrounds for a dealer and selling him some of his sketches. In the following year he exhibited ‘Pizzaro seizing the Inca of Peru,’ a large painting of remarkable maturity now in the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington, and in the next year, 1847, he was awarded a gold medal for his ‘Young Men of the Tribe of Benjamin seizing their Brides.’ In neither of these pictures do we perceive any tendency of the artist to revolutionize the style of painting then in vogue; both of them are more or less in the manner of William Etty (1787-1849), whose art, like that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, was chiefly based on the Venetian masters and whose color was rich, but heavy and dark. At the Academy Schools Millais had already made the acquaintance of Holman Hunt, but though the two young students may have been discontented with the pictorial ideals of the time, and may have discussed aims and methods in private, they did not show any signs of a new faith in their works till after they had made the acquaintance of Rossetti.
After leaving King’s College School, Rosetti studied art at Cary’s Academy in Bloomsbury, and though he was not able to gain admittance into the life-class, he worked in the Antique School of the Royal Academy in 1845 and 1846. Born in London in 1828, Dante Gabriel Rosetti was a year younger than Holman Hunt, and a year older than Millais, but though so near their own age, he was from an art-master’s point of view far below them, so that he was kept drawing from casts of antique statues when they were already drawing and painting live human beings. This was dull work for Rossetti, who was passionately interested in life, and he looked around to see where he might obtain more congenial tuition. He had been greatly attracted by a picture he had seen in an exhibition, ‘Our Lady of Saturday Night,’ and he went to the painter, Ford Madox Brown, and besought him to accept him as a pupil. After some demur Brown consented, but when Rossetti, though allowed brushes and colors, found that his new master’s method of tuition consisted in setting him to paint studies of still life, his impatience at discipline soon overcame him; and declaring that he was tired of painting ‘pots and pans,’ when his head was full of exciting pictures of romantic women and knightly men, he broke away from Brown after an apprenticeship that only lasted some four months.
Ford Madox Brown (1821-93) was never a member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, but he was so much in sympathy with their aims and his art was so nearly related to their own, that some brief account of him must be included in any review of this phase of English painting. Madox Brown was six years the senior of Holman Hunt. He was born in Calais at a time when David and the Classicists had imposed a new artistic ideal on France, and when he began to paint about 1835 this classical ideal was being attacked by a new romantic movement to which Madox Brown was attracted. He was from his childhood, therefore, conversant with Continental art movements—as the majority of English painters were not—and after studying at Bruges, Ghent, and Antwerp, where he was the pupil of the Belgian historical and romantic painter, Baron Wappers, he worked for three years in Paris. His desire then was to become a painter of large historical pictures, and in 1844 he came to England in order to enter a competition for the commission to paint decorations for Westminster Hall. In this he was unsuccessful, and in the following year he went to Rome, where he became acquainted with two curious German painters named Cornelius and Overbeck. These artists were leading semi-monastic lives, and in so far as they deliberately cultivated the devotional frame of mind of the Italian masters who preceded Raphael, they were the first ‘Pre-Raphaelites.’ Cornelius and Overbeck, who were both devout Catholics, worked in cells, and like the medieval monastic painters, they prepared themselves for their work by scourging, vigil, and fasting. In order that their work might be free from all taint of ‘fleshiness’ they avoided the use of human models. It is not likely that their dry and rather affected painting influenced Madox Brown to any great extent, but thtey doubtlessly opened his eyes to the excellencies of the earlier Italian painters, and showed him that there was more than one way of looking at Nature.
The Pre-Raphaelites (continued)
When he was twelve years old he painted his first picture in oils, and in 1845, when he was sixteen, he was able to earn £100 a year by painting in backgrounds for a dealer and selling him some of his sketches. In the following year he exhibited ‘Pizzaro seizing the Inca of Peru,’ a large painting of remarkable maturity now in the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington, and in the next year, 1847, he was awarded a gold medal for his ‘Young Men of the Tribe of Benjamin seizing their Brides.’ In neither of these pictures do we perceive any tendency of the artist to revolutionize the style of painting then in vogue; both of them are more or less in the manner of William Etty (1787-1849), whose art, like that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, was chiefly based on the Venetian masters and whose color was rich, but heavy and dark. At the Academy Schools Millais had already made the acquaintance of Holman Hunt, but though the two young students may have been discontented with the pictorial ideals of the time, and may have discussed aims and methods in private, they did not show any signs of a new faith in their works till after they had made the acquaintance of Rossetti.
After leaving King’s College School, Rosetti studied art at Cary’s Academy in Bloomsbury, and though he was not able to gain admittance into the life-class, he worked in the Antique School of the Royal Academy in 1845 and 1846. Born in London in 1828, Dante Gabriel Rosetti was a year younger than Holman Hunt, and a year older than Millais, but though so near their own age, he was from an art-master’s point of view far below them, so that he was kept drawing from casts of antique statues when they were already drawing and painting live human beings. This was dull work for Rossetti, who was passionately interested in life, and he looked around to see where he might obtain more congenial tuition. He had been greatly attracted by a picture he had seen in an exhibition, ‘Our Lady of Saturday Night,’ and he went to the painter, Ford Madox Brown, and besought him to accept him as a pupil. After some demur Brown consented, but when Rossetti, though allowed brushes and colors, found that his new master’s method of tuition consisted in setting him to paint studies of still life, his impatience at discipline soon overcame him; and declaring that he was tired of painting ‘pots and pans,’ when his head was full of exciting pictures of romantic women and knightly men, he broke away from Brown after an apprenticeship that only lasted some four months.
Ford Madox Brown (1821-93) was never a member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, but he was so much in sympathy with their aims and his art was so nearly related to their own, that some brief account of him must be included in any review of this phase of English painting. Madox Brown was six years the senior of Holman Hunt. He was born in Calais at a time when David and the Classicists had imposed a new artistic ideal on France, and when he began to paint about 1835 this classical ideal was being attacked by a new romantic movement to which Madox Brown was attracted. He was from his childhood, therefore, conversant with Continental art movements—as the majority of English painters were not—and after studying at Bruges, Ghent, and Antwerp, where he was the pupil of the Belgian historical and romantic painter, Baron Wappers, he worked for three years in Paris. His desire then was to become a painter of large historical pictures, and in 1844 he came to England in order to enter a competition for the commission to paint decorations for Westminster Hall. In this he was unsuccessful, and in the following year he went to Rome, where he became acquainted with two curious German painters named Cornelius and Overbeck. These artists were leading semi-monastic lives, and in so far as they deliberately cultivated the devotional frame of mind of the Italian masters who preceded Raphael, they were the first ‘Pre-Raphaelites.’ Cornelius and Overbeck, who were both devout Catholics, worked in cells, and like the medieval monastic painters, they prepared themselves for their work by scourging, vigil, and fasting. In order that their work might be free from all taint of ‘fleshiness’ they avoided the use of human models. It is not likely that their dry and rather affected painting influenced Madox Brown to any great extent, but thtey doubtlessly opened his eyes to the excellencies of the earlier Italian painters, and showed him that there was more than one way of looking at Nature.
The Pre-Raphaelites (continued)
Bangkok Gems And Jewelry Fair
The 41st Bangkok Gems and Jewelry Fair is organized by The Thai Gem & Jewelry Traders Association + The Department of Export Promotion + the show starts on February 27 - March 2, 2008 @ Impact Challenger.
Useful links:
www.bangkokgemsfair.com
www.thaigemjewelry.or.th
Useful links:
www.bangkokgemsfair.com
www.thaigemjewelry.or.th
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Pearls Of Arabia Project
The Dubai Multi Commodities Centre + Paspaley Pearling Co. PTY Ltd will establish a 6,000-square-meter 'Experience Centre' at The World, a housing and business development of man-made islands in the shape of a world map off the coast of Dubai + I think the objective is to develop Dubai into a global/regional pearl trading center.
Useful links:
www.dmcc.ae
www.theworld.ae
www.paspaleypearls.com
Useful links:
www.dmcc.ae
www.theworld.ae
www.paspaleypearls.com
Radical Design
I found the article on Radical Designs + Radical Results by Julia Hanna @ http://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/5850.html interesting + useful.
The Logic Of Life
The book The Logic of Life – The Rational Economics of an Irrational World by Tim Harford is about human behavior + makes you think differently + touches on a broad number of subjects + it's interesting and I liked it.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
5. The Diamond Necklace
Unquestionably the most baleful jewel in all recorded history was that grandoise assemblage of precious stones known as ‘The Queen’s Diamond Necklace.’ The unhappy Marie Antoinette never owned, wore, or even saw the fateful jewel. As far as we can discover nobody ever wore it. Almost immediately after leaving the hands of the jewelers the necklace, as a unit, vanished—its diamonds were dug from their setting and scattered to travel their secret and devious ways toward the four corners of the earth. Perhaps you who read this page are wearing one of them now....Unless you are sure of the pedigree of a stone from the mine onward—who knows?—and gem, even though fresh from the jeweler’s shop, like as not has a lurid past.
The story of the famous necklace has provided endless material for history and fiction. Novels, plays and movies have used the theme ad infinitum. And in its many bearings on the lives of a whole nation the tale is too complex for retelling here. Enough to note the fact that a string of insensate gems stood for a symbol of the extravagance of Marie Antonoitte and thereby became a focussing point of hatred which rose like molten lava and overwhelmed France. Not that responsibility for the French Revolution can be laid on the innocent shoulders of a jewel, but undoubtedly the whole scandalous affair wielded a very appreciable power in exciting the blood lust of the mob.
As for the necklace itself, report goes that it was rather crude in workmanship despite its prodigious stones. Of course its short existence predated photography, and the best description is said to be that written by Thomas Carlyle, who naturally never saw it and could speak of the necklace only by virtue of research. His account has been deemed ‘quaint’ and certainly it is not limited to the aridly factual. He writes:
A row of seventeen glorious diamonds, as large almost as filberts, encircle, not too tightly, the neck, a first time. Looser, gracefully fastened thrice to these, a three-wreathed festoon, and pendants enough (simple pear-shaped, multiple star-shaped, or clustering amorphous) encircle it, unwreath it, a second time. Loosest of all, softly flowing round from behind, in priceless catenary, rush down two broad threefold rows; seem to knot themselves, round a very Queen of Diamonds, on the bosom; then rush on, again separated, as if there were length in plenty; the very tassels of them were a fortune for some men. And now lastly, two other inexpressible threefold rows, also with their tassels, will, when the Necklace is on and clasped, unite themselves behind into a doubly inexpressible six fold row; and so stream down, together or asunder, over the hind-neck—we may fancy, like lambent Zodiacal or Aurora-Borealis fire.
All these on a neck of snow slight-tinged with rose-bloom, and within it royal Life; amidst the blaze of lusters: in sylphish movements, espiègleries, coquetteries; and minuetmazes; with every movement a flash of star-rainbow colors, bright almost as the movements of the fair young soul it emblems! A glorious ornament; fit only for the Sultana of the World. Indeed, only attainable by such; for it is valued at 1,800,000 livres; say, in round numbers, and sterling money, between eighty and ninety thousand pounds.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
5. The Diamond Necklace
Unquestionably the most baleful jewel in all recorded history was that grandoise assemblage of precious stones known as ‘The Queen’s Diamond Necklace.’ The unhappy Marie Antoinette never owned, wore, or even saw the fateful jewel. As far as we can discover nobody ever wore it. Almost immediately after leaving the hands of the jewelers the necklace, as a unit, vanished—its diamonds were dug from their setting and scattered to travel their secret and devious ways toward the four corners of the earth. Perhaps you who read this page are wearing one of them now....Unless you are sure of the pedigree of a stone from the mine onward—who knows?—and gem, even though fresh from the jeweler’s shop, like as not has a lurid past.
The story of the famous necklace has provided endless material for history and fiction. Novels, plays and movies have used the theme ad infinitum. And in its many bearings on the lives of a whole nation the tale is too complex for retelling here. Enough to note the fact that a string of insensate gems stood for a symbol of the extravagance of Marie Antonoitte and thereby became a focussing point of hatred which rose like molten lava and overwhelmed France. Not that responsibility for the French Revolution can be laid on the innocent shoulders of a jewel, but undoubtedly the whole scandalous affair wielded a very appreciable power in exciting the blood lust of the mob.
As for the necklace itself, report goes that it was rather crude in workmanship despite its prodigious stones. Of course its short existence predated photography, and the best description is said to be that written by Thomas Carlyle, who naturally never saw it and could speak of the necklace only by virtue of research. His account has been deemed ‘quaint’ and certainly it is not limited to the aridly factual. He writes:
A row of seventeen glorious diamonds, as large almost as filberts, encircle, not too tightly, the neck, a first time. Looser, gracefully fastened thrice to these, a three-wreathed festoon, and pendants enough (simple pear-shaped, multiple star-shaped, or clustering amorphous) encircle it, unwreath it, a second time. Loosest of all, softly flowing round from behind, in priceless catenary, rush down two broad threefold rows; seem to knot themselves, round a very Queen of Diamonds, on the bosom; then rush on, again separated, as if there were length in plenty; the very tassels of them were a fortune for some men. And now lastly, two other inexpressible threefold rows, also with their tassels, will, when the Necklace is on and clasped, unite themselves behind into a doubly inexpressible six fold row; and so stream down, together or asunder, over the hind-neck—we may fancy, like lambent Zodiacal or Aurora-Borealis fire.
All these on a neck of snow slight-tinged with rose-bloom, and within it royal Life; amidst the blaze of lusters: in sylphish movements, espiègleries, coquetteries; and minuetmazes; with every movement a flash of star-rainbow colors, bright almost as the movements of the fair young soul it emblems! A glorious ornament; fit only for the Sultana of the World. Indeed, only attainable by such; for it is valued at 1,800,000 livres; say, in round numbers, and sterling money, between eighty and ninety thousand pounds.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
The Pre-Raphaelites
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
The Art Of Ford, Madox Brown, Rossetti, Holman Hunt, Millais, And Burne-Jones
1
Among the pupils of John Sell Cotman when he was a drawing master at King’s College School was a strange, foreign-looking boy, the son of an Italian poet and patriot living in exile in London. This boy was Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who afterwards combined with Millais and Holman Hunt to found the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Innumerable books have been written in which it has been sought to show that first one and then another of these three young men was the real motive-power in the founding of a new style of painting; but the fact remains that it was not till all three came together in 1848 that any revolution was effected, and it was the peculiar and diverse gifts which each brought to the common stock which made their union so formidable and enabled them eventually to triumph over opposition and hostile criticism.
Rossetti, according to Ruskin, was ‘the chief intellectual force’ in the association; his fire, enthusiasm, and poetic feeling were valuable assets, but technically he was the least accomplished of the three. He had ideas, but at first he was weak in translating them into drawing and painting, and he shirked the drudgery of the discipline necessary to perfect his powers of expression. Millais, on the other hand, was not remarkable for original ideas, but he had brilliant powers of eye and hand; he was a precocious genius in technique to whom the problems of drawing and painting presented no difficulty. Holman Hunt had neither the facility of Millais nor the impatience of Rossetti, but he had a high seriousness of purpose and a determined perseverance which held the others steadily together and chained their endeavors to lofty ideals.
Before considering what ‘Pre-Raphaelitism’ was, and what if ultimately became, it will be helpful to glance briefly at the origin of its three founders. William Holman Hunt, the eldest of the trio, was born in Wood Street, Cheapside, on April 2, 1827. His father, the manager of a city warehouse, opposed his wish to be an artist and placed him at the age of twelve in the office of an estate agent. His employer encouraged young Hunt’s artistic leanings, and the father reluctantly allowed the boy to spend his salary on lessons from a portrait painter. In 1843 Hunt was at last allowed to devote himself to art, but entirely at his own risk, and the sixteen-year-old boy bravely struggled along, studying half the week at the Brisith Museum and supporting himself by painting portraits on the other three days. Eventually he was admitted as a probationer to the Academy Schools, where he soon made friends with his junior, Millais, and while studying still managed to earn a bare living.
The youngest of the three was John Everett Millais, who was born at Southampton in 1829. He came from a Norman family settled in Jersey, and his early childhood was spent in that island, at Le Quailhouse, near St Heliers. His father was a popular, gifted man with some artistic talent, who delighted in and encouraged the precocious ability his son soon showed in drawing. In 1837 his parents came to live in Gower Street, London, and on the advice of the Irish artist Sir Martin Archer Shee (1769-1850), who was then President of the Royal Academy, young Millais was sent to Henry Sass’s art school in Bloomsbury. Here his progress was so phenomenal that when he was only nine years old he won the silver medal of the Society of Arts. Two years later he was admitted to the Royal Academy Schools as the youngest student who ever worked there, and ‘The Child’, as he was then called, was already considered to be a marvel of precocity whose achievements rivalled those of the youthful Lawrence.
The Pre-Raphaelites (continue)
The Art Of Ford, Madox Brown, Rossetti, Holman Hunt, Millais, And Burne-Jones
1
Among the pupils of John Sell Cotman when he was a drawing master at King’s College School was a strange, foreign-looking boy, the son of an Italian poet and patriot living in exile in London. This boy was Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who afterwards combined with Millais and Holman Hunt to found the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Innumerable books have been written in which it has been sought to show that first one and then another of these three young men was the real motive-power in the founding of a new style of painting; but the fact remains that it was not till all three came together in 1848 that any revolution was effected, and it was the peculiar and diverse gifts which each brought to the common stock which made their union so formidable and enabled them eventually to triumph over opposition and hostile criticism.
Rossetti, according to Ruskin, was ‘the chief intellectual force’ in the association; his fire, enthusiasm, and poetic feeling were valuable assets, but technically he was the least accomplished of the three. He had ideas, but at first he was weak in translating them into drawing and painting, and he shirked the drudgery of the discipline necessary to perfect his powers of expression. Millais, on the other hand, was not remarkable for original ideas, but he had brilliant powers of eye and hand; he was a precocious genius in technique to whom the problems of drawing and painting presented no difficulty. Holman Hunt had neither the facility of Millais nor the impatience of Rossetti, but he had a high seriousness of purpose and a determined perseverance which held the others steadily together and chained their endeavors to lofty ideals.
Before considering what ‘Pre-Raphaelitism’ was, and what if ultimately became, it will be helpful to glance briefly at the origin of its three founders. William Holman Hunt, the eldest of the trio, was born in Wood Street, Cheapside, on April 2, 1827. His father, the manager of a city warehouse, opposed his wish to be an artist and placed him at the age of twelve in the office of an estate agent. His employer encouraged young Hunt’s artistic leanings, and the father reluctantly allowed the boy to spend his salary on lessons from a portrait painter. In 1843 Hunt was at last allowed to devote himself to art, but entirely at his own risk, and the sixteen-year-old boy bravely struggled along, studying half the week at the Brisith Museum and supporting himself by painting portraits on the other three days. Eventually he was admitted as a probationer to the Academy Schools, where he soon made friends with his junior, Millais, and while studying still managed to earn a bare living.
The youngest of the three was John Everett Millais, who was born at Southampton in 1829. He came from a Norman family settled in Jersey, and his early childhood was spent in that island, at Le Quailhouse, near St Heliers. His father was a popular, gifted man with some artistic talent, who delighted in and encouraged the precocious ability his son soon showed in drawing. In 1837 his parents came to live in Gower Street, London, and on the advice of the Irish artist Sir Martin Archer Shee (1769-1850), who was then President of the Royal Academy, young Millais was sent to Henry Sass’s art school in Bloomsbury. Here his progress was so phenomenal that when he was only nine years old he won the silver medal of the Society of Arts. Two years later he was admitted to the Royal Academy Schools as the youngest student who ever worked there, and ‘The Child’, as he was then called, was already considered to be a marvel of precocity whose achievements rivalled those of the youthful Lawrence.
The Pre-Raphaelites (continue)
BIL
BIL is...an open, self-organizing, emergent, and anarchic science and technology conference.
Nobody is in charge.
If you want to come, just show up.
If you have an idea to spread, start talking.
If someone is saying something interesting, stop and listen.
Useful link:
http://bilconference.com
I liked this one.
Nobody is in charge.
If you want to come, just show up.
If you have an idea to spread, start talking.
If someone is saying something interesting, stop and listen.
Useful link:
http://bilconference.com
I liked this one.
A Historic Icon
The intriguing history of The Napoleon Diamond Necklace @ http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/diamond3.html?c=y&page=2 involves both royals and con artists + analysts have identified a high proportion of the larger diamonds as rare type IIa + most of the smaller stones as type IaAB via infrared spectrophotometric analysis + luminescence reactions + it is one of the most spectacular jewelry pieces of its period.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Art Hotels
I found Bunny Wong's article on hotels collaborating with artists @ http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-dyn/content/article/2008/02/05/AR2008020502192.html fascinating + in my view the reexperience will always have something old/something new for everyone + I liked the idea and hope others will follow the creative concepts.
Jan De Cock
The Belgian artist De Cock's installation in the photography galleries at MOMA is intriguingly beautiful + I liked them.
Useful link:
http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2008/jandecock/
Useful link:
http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2008/jandecock/
Aha! Gotcha
The book Aha! Gotcha by Martin Gardner is a delight + analytical + insightful + I liked it.
Start A Business
I found the article via HBS Working Knowledge @ http://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/5841.html interesting + insightful.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
4. Engraved Gems, Real And Imitation
Early in the eighteenth century some attempt had been made to excavate the long-buried city of Herculaneum, and later Pompeii. General interest was aroused in the classic forms of art unearthed in these ancient cities. Artists and archeologists flocked to Naples, and fashion took note. Not suddenly but by degrees did the classic influence touch one art after another.
In jewelry the effect was to increase the demand for engraved gemstones, cameos in particular. Immediately there followed a flood of imitation ‘antiques’.
Among those who experimented with making imitation gems was Henry Quinn, a physician, whose name might not have been remembered if it had not been for his young laboratory assistant, James Tassie (1735-99).
The two invented a new form of vitreous paste with which to reproduce ancient gems and medallions, not by copying the engraving by hand, but by casting wax models of the gems.
Tassie became so skillful that his imitations possessed to a high degree the color, transparency and beauty of the originals. His work attracted much attention and he was given access to the finest private collections of ancient gems in Europe in order that he might study and reproduce them. His own collection of reproduction became famous.
At the command of Catherine, Empress of Russia, Tassie made for her copies of all his pastes, a matter of several thousand specimens.
Many of Tassie’s copies eventually became treasured museum pieces. However, to a certain extent it seems to have bene unfortunate for the trade in genuine gems that the copies were so good. Numbers of them fell into the hands of unscrupulous dealers, who passed them off as real, and the too often duped public presently became suspicious of all engraved gems and fearing to find itself deceived, ceased to buy.
More familiar and well known, even down to our times, is the name of the English potter, Joshiah Wedgwood (1730-95). Besides his famous jasperware in classic style, he made cameos for jewelry. Mounted in rings, brooches, or bracelets, his little cameos in delicately tinted jasperware, partcularly in blue and white, became exceedingly popular.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
4. Engraved Gems, Real And Imitation
Early in the eighteenth century some attempt had been made to excavate the long-buried city of Herculaneum, and later Pompeii. General interest was aroused in the classic forms of art unearthed in these ancient cities. Artists and archeologists flocked to Naples, and fashion took note. Not suddenly but by degrees did the classic influence touch one art after another.
In jewelry the effect was to increase the demand for engraved gemstones, cameos in particular. Immediately there followed a flood of imitation ‘antiques’.
Among those who experimented with making imitation gems was Henry Quinn, a physician, whose name might not have been remembered if it had not been for his young laboratory assistant, James Tassie (1735-99).
The two invented a new form of vitreous paste with which to reproduce ancient gems and medallions, not by copying the engraving by hand, but by casting wax models of the gems.
Tassie became so skillful that his imitations possessed to a high degree the color, transparency and beauty of the originals. His work attracted much attention and he was given access to the finest private collections of ancient gems in Europe in order that he might study and reproduce them. His own collection of reproduction became famous.
At the command of Catherine, Empress of Russia, Tassie made for her copies of all his pastes, a matter of several thousand specimens.
Many of Tassie’s copies eventually became treasured museum pieces. However, to a certain extent it seems to have bene unfortunate for the trade in genuine gems that the copies were so good. Numbers of them fell into the hands of unscrupulous dealers, who passed them off as real, and the too often duped public presently became suspicious of all engraved gems and fearing to find itself deceived, ceased to buy.
More familiar and well known, even down to our times, is the name of the English potter, Joshiah Wedgwood (1730-95). Besides his famous jasperware in classic style, he made cameos for jewelry. Mounted in rings, brooches, or bracelets, his little cameos in delicately tinted jasperware, partcularly in blue and white, became exceedingly popular.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
In 1825, when he was again living in Norwich, Cotman was elected as Associate of the Water-color Society in London, and from that year was a constant contributor to the Society’s exhibitions; but though his work was known and respected both in London and Norwich, the genius of Cotman was never recognized in his lifetime nor indeed for many years after his death. The struggle to make a living began to tell on his nerves and health, and it was in the hope of giving him some ease by assuring him a regular income that his steadfast friend Dawson Turner, the antiquary, succeeded in getting Cotman appointed in 1834 as drawing master at King’s College School, then in the Strand. Removing to London in view of this appointment, Cotman settled himself at 42 Hunter Street, Brunswick Square, but the change seemed to do him more harm than good. His health gradually declined, and the nervous depression to which he was a victim became more and more severe till in the end his mind became slightly unhinged. His eldest son, Miles Edward Cotman (1811-58), a water colorist of moderate ability, succeeded him as drawing-master at King’s College School, and on July 28, 1842, John Sell Cotman died and was quiety buried in the churchyard of St John’s Wood Chapel, close to Lord’s Cricket Ground. How little Cotman was appreciated then was made painfully evident when his remaining oil-paintings and water colors were sold at Christie’s in the following year. Works for which collectors would now gladly pay hundred of pounds hardly realized as many shillings in 1843, and the highest price for a painting by him then obtained was £8 15s; the highest price given for a Cotman water color was £6.
To discover exactly why an artist, afterwards recorgnized to be a genius, is not appreciated in his own lifetime, is never an easy task, but it is certain that many of his contemporaries considered Cotman’s work to be ‘unfinished’ because it had that vigorous breadth which now wins our admiration. Whether we look at an oil painting like his ‘Wherries on the Yare’ or a masterly water color like the ‘Greta Bridge’ at the British Museum, we cannot fail to be impressed by the grandeur which the artist has given to his rendering of the scene by his subordination of detail and suppression of all that is irrelevant.
Cotman took a big view of Nature and the breadth and simplicity of his masses materially help to give his pictures, whether in oil or water color, a monumental majesty unsurpassed even by his great contemporaries.
In 1825, when he was again living in Norwich, Cotman was elected as Associate of the Water-color Society in London, and from that year was a constant contributor to the Society’s exhibitions; but though his work was known and respected both in London and Norwich, the genius of Cotman was never recognized in his lifetime nor indeed for many years after his death. The struggle to make a living began to tell on his nerves and health, and it was in the hope of giving him some ease by assuring him a regular income that his steadfast friend Dawson Turner, the antiquary, succeeded in getting Cotman appointed in 1834 as drawing master at King’s College School, then in the Strand. Removing to London in view of this appointment, Cotman settled himself at 42 Hunter Street, Brunswick Square, but the change seemed to do him more harm than good. His health gradually declined, and the nervous depression to which he was a victim became more and more severe till in the end his mind became slightly unhinged. His eldest son, Miles Edward Cotman (1811-58), a water colorist of moderate ability, succeeded him as drawing-master at King’s College School, and on July 28, 1842, John Sell Cotman died and was quiety buried in the churchyard of St John’s Wood Chapel, close to Lord’s Cricket Ground. How little Cotman was appreciated then was made painfully evident when his remaining oil-paintings and water colors were sold at Christie’s in the following year. Works for which collectors would now gladly pay hundred of pounds hardly realized as many shillings in 1843, and the highest price for a painting by him then obtained was £8 15s; the highest price given for a Cotman water color was £6.
To discover exactly why an artist, afterwards recorgnized to be a genius, is not appreciated in his own lifetime, is never an easy task, but it is certain that many of his contemporaries considered Cotman’s work to be ‘unfinished’ because it had that vigorous breadth which now wins our admiration. Whether we look at an oil painting like his ‘Wherries on the Yare’ or a masterly water color like the ‘Greta Bridge’ at the British Museum, we cannot fail to be impressed by the grandeur which the artist has given to his rendering of the scene by his subordination of detail and suppression of all that is irrelevant.
Cotman took a big view of Nature and the breadth and simplicity of his masses materially help to give his pictures, whether in oil or water color, a monumental majesty unsurpassed even by his great contemporaries.
Uncommon Gemstones
Yellow green clinohumite and yellow chondrodite are often confused for tourmaline (s) because of its unusual colors + I have seen a few specimens in Bangkok, usually sold by dealers from Tanzania and Kenya, often mixed up with other rough colored stones + even experienced dealers go autistic when they see a mixed lot, sometimes you may have to cut and polish a few specimens to know their true identification, not always practical + if in doubt always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
The Rise Of Free Economics
I found the Wired article on the concept of Free! @
http://www.wired.com/techbiz/it/magazine/16-03/ff_free interesting/insightful + may be Chris Anderson is right—only time will tell.
http://www.wired.com/techbiz/it/magazine/16-03/ff_free interesting/insightful + may be Chris Anderson is right—only time will tell.
Richard Rogers
Richard Rogers is a British architect noted for his modernist + functionalist + engaging designs + I like them.
Useful links:
www.richardrogers.co.uk
www.designmuseum.org
Useful links:
www.richardrogers.co.uk
www.designmuseum.org
Monday, February 25, 2008
The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics Of Contemporary Art
The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics Of Contemporary Art by Don Thompson ought to be required reading for art collectors + he explains the state of the art trade + has good advice for anyone who walks into an art gallery.
The Fisherman And The Rhinoceros
The Fisherman And The Rhinoceros by Eric Briys + François de Varenne is a beautiful book, witty and illuminating + the parables are informative + the book also explains the bubbles and crashes of the financial markets + I liked it.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
3. Snuff-Boxes And Trinkets
Under these conditions it was possible for the middle classes to possess all the various trinkets suggested by fashion.
Smoking, by now, was out of fashion. It was considered distinctly vulgar, but tobacco in another form, namely snuff, was among the imperative elegances of the times. Both ladies and gentlemen took snuff. The social ritual of offering a pinch of snuff to a friend, delicately sniffing another pinch one’s self, dusting off one’s face furbelows with a flourishing flip of the fingers (lest the brown powder deface the whiteness of ruffles), and finally snapping shut the lid of the jeweled snuff-box—all this ceremony, one suspects, may have been carefully practised before a mirror to ensure grace. At any rate, the chief factor in the performance was the snuff-box. Every richness of decoration conceivably to the jeweler and the artist was bestowed on the snuff box.
One box was not enough for the gallant; he carried numbers of them in his capacious coat-tail pockets.
Although a lady too had her snuff-box, it was her fan that furnished an accessory for graceful flourishing of dainty hands. It has always been one of the most effective implements of coquetry, and during the middle of the eighteenth century every lady carried a fan. Naturally it must be a work of art. Whatever the material—paper, silk, or chicken-skin parchment—the artist painted it, and the jeweler often set glittering gems in its handle or framework.
By now, the chatelaine was a contrivance usually consisting of a stout hook covered by a shield from which, hanging chains, were a miscellaneous assortment of small objects in elaborately wrought metal cases, often enriched with enamel. Thimble, scissors, needle-case, scent-case, seals, patch-box, toothpick-case and what not hung in a tinkling company along with a watch and its key. By 1785 there was no more popular wedding present than a chatelaine with its varied ‘equipage’ for the bride.
Buckles were an important item of dress both for men and women. Buckles to fasten laces, stock-buckles, knee-buckles, girdle-buckles, but most of all shoe-buckles, were essential and worn by everyone, including children.
When first introduced, shoe-buckles had been small, but soon they grew both in size and prominence. They were made in greatest variety of design and material, from the most inexpensive metals to gold set with gems or pinchbeck set with paste. The industry flourished until the latter part of the century when the shoestring began usurping the rights of the shoe-buckle. Then great was the outcry of the buckle-makers who tried to boycott the shoestring by methods even more curious than those of our modern placarded picket-line. On tickets to public entertainment one might find the notice, ‘Gentlemen cannot be admitted with shoestrings.’ But it was no use; shoestrings won.
Once cheap jewelry had proved its popularity, experimenters in the making of glass gems became more numerous than ever. Among them was a German, Strass by name, living in Paris, who succeeded in producing a particularly clear glass, rich in lead, and so sparkling that under the name of ‘Strass paste’ it was widely used for imitation diamonds or, when colored, for other stones.
Even the rich did not disdain to wear counterfeit jewelry upon occasion, and so flourishing became the trade that in 1767 it was incorporated as the joaillers-faussetiers of Paris.
The inexpensive products of the European jeweler were not, however, confined to local markets, for cheap jewelry, along with the ever popular bead, was an indispensable part of every exploring trader’s pack. With a handful of glass ‘pearls’, a few colored beads and some cheap trinkets, the crafty trader could create a boom in elephant hunting; and the delighted native hunter would eagerly exchange a magnificent ivory tusk for a pinchbeck bauble or for five big glass beads.
For the business man it was a deal worthy of large scale expansion. The English had great storehouses along the Thames to hold the heaped beads and gewgaws intended for bartering with any wide-eyed savage who didn’t know any better.
Even aside from the savage, beads were and are the favorite article of jewelry among almost all peoples. Both France and England exported beads by the ton; they were so cheaply made and so easily packed.
The last mentioned advantage holds good for real jewels, and has been recognized by all civilized countries in all times. A hoard of jewels is the most portable form for a large fortune and the most easily convertible into cash at short notice. It would seem as if the chief function of most crown jewels was to raise money to pay for wars. If not sold outright jewels could always be pawned.
At the close of the seventeenth century there was a marked change in the cut of man’s coat. It was now double-breasted, cut short in front with long tails behind. The closely buttoned coat made waistcoat pockets inaccessible, therefore the watch was carried in a small pocket, or fob, made at the waist band of the breeches.
Here was another opportunity for the industrious jeweler. Watches and their dangling bunches of seals were elaborated into bejeweled and enameled materpieces. The watch-case was often mounted with gems, the dial-plate intricately decorated, and even the tiny hands were shaped with an eye to beauty. The watch-key likewise was carefully designed and set with a stone. And Fashion helped the goldsmith further by suggesting that since a man had two of these little pockets, one on each side, it looked well-preserved a balance of ornament—to carry two watches, one in each pocket. It was not necessary that both should be timekeepers, one could be what was called a fausse montre - false watch—but in appearance the false was as decorative as th real watch.
The ladies, although not possessed of fob pockets, must not be outdone. They also carried two watches. A feminine touch was given to the fausse montre when its front ws a pincushion. If she chose, the lady wore her watch dangling among the many nicknacks that hung from her chatelaine.
In 1777, Paris established a loan center known as Mont-de-Piété (fund of pity); and when depression, caused by political difficulties, gripped the rich man’s pocketbook the Mont-de-Piété was glutted with jewelry. It is said that at one time the gold watches alone occupied forty casks!
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
3. Snuff-Boxes And Trinkets
Under these conditions it was possible for the middle classes to possess all the various trinkets suggested by fashion.
Smoking, by now, was out of fashion. It was considered distinctly vulgar, but tobacco in another form, namely snuff, was among the imperative elegances of the times. Both ladies and gentlemen took snuff. The social ritual of offering a pinch of snuff to a friend, delicately sniffing another pinch one’s self, dusting off one’s face furbelows with a flourishing flip of the fingers (lest the brown powder deface the whiteness of ruffles), and finally snapping shut the lid of the jeweled snuff-box—all this ceremony, one suspects, may have been carefully practised before a mirror to ensure grace. At any rate, the chief factor in the performance was the snuff-box. Every richness of decoration conceivably to the jeweler and the artist was bestowed on the snuff box.
One box was not enough for the gallant; he carried numbers of them in his capacious coat-tail pockets.
Although a lady too had her snuff-box, it was her fan that furnished an accessory for graceful flourishing of dainty hands. It has always been one of the most effective implements of coquetry, and during the middle of the eighteenth century every lady carried a fan. Naturally it must be a work of art. Whatever the material—paper, silk, or chicken-skin parchment—the artist painted it, and the jeweler often set glittering gems in its handle or framework.
By now, the chatelaine was a contrivance usually consisting of a stout hook covered by a shield from which, hanging chains, were a miscellaneous assortment of small objects in elaborately wrought metal cases, often enriched with enamel. Thimble, scissors, needle-case, scent-case, seals, patch-box, toothpick-case and what not hung in a tinkling company along with a watch and its key. By 1785 there was no more popular wedding present than a chatelaine with its varied ‘equipage’ for the bride.
Buckles were an important item of dress both for men and women. Buckles to fasten laces, stock-buckles, knee-buckles, girdle-buckles, but most of all shoe-buckles, were essential and worn by everyone, including children.
When first introduced, shoe-buckles had been small, but soon they grew both in size and prominence. They were made in greatest variety of design and material, from the most inexpensive metals to gold set with gems or pinchbeck set with paste. The industry flourished until the latter part of the century when the shoestring began usurping the rights of the shoe-buckle. Then great was the outcry of the buckle-makers who tried to boycott the shoestring by methods even more curious than those of our modern placarded picket-line. On tickets to public entertainment one might find the notice, ‘Gentlemen cannot be admitted with shoestrings.’ But it was no use; shoestrings won.
Once cheap jewelry had proved its popularity, experimenters in the making of glass gems became more numerous than ever. Among them was a German, Strass by name, living in Paris, who succeeded in producing a particularly clear glass, rich in lead, and so sparkling that under the name of ‘Strass paste’ it was widely used for imitation diamonds or, when colored, for other stones.
Even the rich did not disdain to wear counterfeit jewelry upon occasion, and so flourishing became the trade that in 1767 it was incorporated as the joaillers-faussetiers of Paris.
The inexpensive products of the European jeweler were not, however, confined to local markets, for cheap jewelry, along with the ever popular bead, was an indispensable part of every exploring trader’s pack. With a handful of glass ‘pearls’, a few colored beads and some cheap trinkets, the crafty trader could create a boom in elephant hunting; and the delighted native hunter would eagerly exchange a magnificent ivory tusk for a pinchbeck bauble or for five big glass beads.
For the business man it was a deal worthy of large scale expansion. The English had great storehouses along the Thames to hold the heaped beads and gewgaws intended for bartering with any wide-eyed savage who didn’t know any better.
Even aside from the savage, beads were and are the favorite article of jewelry among almost all peoples. Both France and England exported beads by the ton; they were so cheaply made and so easily packed.
The last mentioned advantage holds good for real jewels, and has been recognized by all civilized countries in all times. A hoard of jewels is the most portable form for a large fortune and the most easily convertible into cash at short notice. It would seem as if the chief function of most crown jewels was to raise money to pay for wars. If not sold outright jewels could always be pawned.
At the close of the seventeenth century there was a marked change in the cut of man’s coat. It was now double-breasted, cut short in front with long tails behind. The closely buttoned coat made waistcoat pockets inaccessible, therefore the watch was carried in a small pocket, or fob, made at the waist band of the breeches.
Here was another opportunity for the industrious jeweler. Watches and their dangling bunches of seals were elaborated into bejeweled and enameled materpieces. The watch-case was often mounted with gems, the dial-plate intricately decorated, and even the tiny hands were shaped with an eye to beauty. The watch-key likewise was carefully designed and set with a stone. And Fashion helped the goldsmith further by suggesting that since a man had two of these little pockets, one on each side, it looked well-preserved a balance of ornament—to carry two watches, one in each pocket. It was not necessary that both should be timekeepers, one could be what was called a fausse montre - false watch—but in appearance the false was as decorative as th real watch.
The ladies, although not possessed of fob pockets, must not be outdone. They also carried two watches. A feminine touch was given to the fausse montre when its front ws a pincushion. If she chose, the lady wore her watch dangling among the many nicknacks that hung from her chatelaine.
In 1777, Paris established a loan center known as Mont-de-Piété (fund of pity); and when depression, caused by political difficulties, gripped the rich man’s pocketbook the Mont-de-Piété was glutted with jewelry. It is said that at one time the gold watches alone occupied forty casks!
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
4
The Norwich School owes its fame to two stars of the first magnitude, Crome and Cotman, and to a host of lesser luminaries. John Sell Cotman was fourteen years younger than Crome, and though also born at Norwich, on June 11, 1782, he did not, like Crome, acquire his art education in his native city. Cotman from the first was in a very different position. He was the son of well-to-do draper, received a good education at the Norwich Grammar Schook, and was intended to enter his father’s shop; but when his bent for art clearly declared itself his father was sensible enough to allow his son to make it his vocation and sent him to London.
Cotman remained in London from 1800 to 1806, and probably the most fruitful part of the education he received there was his association with the group of artists who frequented the house of Dr Thoman Monro, who has already been mentioned in this Outline as the friend of Turner adn Girtin. In Dr Monro’s house at 8 Adelphi Terrace, Cotman made the acquaintance of and worked with all the most brilliant young artists of the day, and in addition to the studies he made there under these stimulating circumstances he joined a sketching club which Girtin had founded.
To Girtin, who was not only an inspiring genius but also a most generous and affectionate friend, Cotman probably owed most at this stage of his career, and it must have been a great shock to him when Girtin died at the early age of twenty seven. After Girtin’s death in November 1802 London was not the same place to Cotman, and though as a young struggling artist he could hardly complain of want of success—for he had exhibited no fewer than thirty paintings at the Royal Academy between 1800 and 1806—he made up his mind to return to his native city.
In London Cotman had applied himself especially to architectural subjects, and it is possible that even in these early days he was influenced in this direction by the gifted West Country artist, Samuel Prout (1783-1852), who excelled in water colors of these subjects, and was living in London from 1802 to 1804; but when he returned to Norwich in 1806 or 1807, Cotman at first set himself up as a portrait painter. Gradually, however, under the influence of Crome—who was thirty nine when Cotman was twenty five—he devoted himself more and more to landscape. He became a member of the Norwich Society of Artists and was for a time its secretary.
Cotman was a prolific worker at this time, and to the Society’s exhibition in 1808 he contributed no fewer than sixty seven works. In 1809 he married, and soon afterwards removed to Yarmouth, where he added to his means by teaching and drawing as well as painting in oils and water colors and also etching. In 1811 he commenced a publication by subscription of his ‘Architectural Etchings’ and having made a number of topographical tours throughout the country, he published in 1816, his ‘Specimens of Norman and Gothic Architecture, Norfolk Churches,’ etc. He formed a useful association with Dawson Turner, the Norfolk antiquary, for whose antiquarian publications Cotman drew and etched the illustrations, and during the next three years (1817-19) he made annual expeditions into Normandy with this writer, whose Architectural Antiquities of Normandy, illustrated by Cotman, was published in 1822. All the time that he was engaged on drawings for these and other publications Cotman was exhibiting oil paintings and water colors both in Norwich and in London, but though several of these found purchasers the prices were so low that, notwithstanding his immense industry, Cotman could not have supported his wife and family if, in addition to all his other activities, he had not continued to give drawing lessons.
Natural Landscape (continued)
4
The Norwich School owes its fame to two stars of the first magnitude, Crome and Cotman, and to a host of lesser luminaries. John Sell Cotman was fourteen years younger than Crome, and though also born at Norwich, on June 11, 1782, he did not, like Crome, acquire his art education in his native city. Cotman from the first was in a very different position. He was the son of well-to-do draper, received a good education at the Norwich Grammar Schook, and was intended to enter his father’s shop; but when his bent for art clearly declared itself his father was sensible enough to allow his son to make it his vocation and sent him to London.
Cotman remained in London from 1800 to 1806, and probably the most fruitful part of the education he received there was his association with the group of artists who frequented the house of Dr Thoman Monro, who has already been mentioned in this Outline as the friend of Turner adn Girtin. In Dr Monro’s house at 8 Adelphi Terrace, Cotman made the acquaintance of and worked with all the most brilliant young artists of the day, and in addition to the studies he made there under these stimulating circumstances he joined a sketching club which Girtin had founded.
To Girtin, who was not only an inspiring genius but also a most generous and affectionate friend, Cotman probably owed most at this stage of his career, and it must have been a great shock to him when Girtin died at the early age of twenty seven. After Girtin’s death in November 1802 London was not the same place to Cotman, and though as a young struggling artist he could hardly complain of want of success—for he had exhibited no fewer than thirty paintings at the Royal Academy between 1800 and 1806—he made up his mind to return to his native city.
In London Cotman had applied himself especially to architectural subjects, and it is possible that even in these early days he was influenced in this direction by the gifted West Country artist, Samuel Prout (1783-1852), who excelled in water colors of these subjects, and was living in London from 1802 to 1804; but when he returned to Norwich in 1806 or 1807, Cotman at first set himself up as a portrait painter. Gradually, however, under the influence of Crome—who was thirty nine when Cotman was twenty five—he devoted himself more and more to landscape. He became a member of the Norwich Society of Artists and was for a time its secretary.
Cotman was a prolific worker at this time, and to the Society’s exhibition in 1808 he contributed no fewer than sixty seven works. In 1809 he married, and soon afterwards removed to Yarmouth, where he added to his means by teaching and drawing as well as painting in oils and water colors and also etching. In 1811 he commenced a publication by subscription of his ‘Architectural Etchings’ and having made a number of topographical tours throughout the country, he published in 1816, his ‘Specimens of Norman and Gothic Architecture, Norfolk Churches,’ etc. He formed a useful association with Dawson Turner, the Norfolk antiquary, for whose antiquarian publications Cotman drew and etched the illustrations, and during the next three years (1817-19) he made annual expeditions into Normandy with this writer, whose Architectural Antiquities of Normandy, illustrated by Cotman, was published in 1822. All the time that he was engaged on drawings for these and other publications Cotman was exhibiting oil paintings and water colors both in Norwich and in London, but though several of these found purchasers the prices were so low that, notwithstanding his immense industry, Cotman could not have supported his wife and family if, in addition to all his other activities, he had not continued to give drawing lessons.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Gold Theft
We are seeing an increase in robberies of valuables, especially gold and artifacts from ancient temples in Asia, and few stolen goods are ever retrieved + the thieves resort to mundane tactics, such as replacing ancient artifacts with cheap objects (just like switching gemstones from natural to synthetic or imitation + you need a good eye to know the difference) + they are also using special chemicals to remove gold from statues + I think the theft could stem from rising gold prices + rising demand in the amulet market (s).
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Dumortierite + Sapphirine
Madagascar + Tanzania are well-known for a number of uncommon + rare minerals, but lately we are seeing more uncommon gem materials from Tunduru, Tanzania; Dumortierite, when transparent, is violetish gray/brownish pink + they are usually found in mine-run parcels (mixed lots); Sapphirine, when transparent, is gray/violet/red + they are commonly found in mine-run parcels (mixed lots) + both Dumortierite and Sapphirine, if found in alluvial sources look like water-worn pebbles and are often confused with mainstream colored stones + standard gemological tests may identify both specimens, if you have master-stone specimens for quick comparison, but if doubtful always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
The Norwich School prospered exceedingly, more so than any other body of provincial artists has ever done in England, and their success was due not only to the excellence of their own work but also to the fact that they labored in a field well prepared to receive art. It will have been observed how many of the great English landscape painters belonged to the Eastern Countries—Gainsborough and Constable were both Suffolk men—and the extent to which the art of all them was influenced by the art of Holland. The explanation is to be found in the intimate trade relations which had existed for centuries between East Anglia and the Netherlands. Owing to this commercial intercourse numbers of Dutch and Flemish pictures found their way into East Anglia homes, and while London during the eighteenth century worshipped Italian art almost to the exclusion of all other, well-to-do people in Norfolk and Suffolk took a keener delight in thte homelier art of the Dutch and Flemish Schools. Thus at the very time that Constable was being neglected in London, John Crome was enjoying esteem and wide popularity in Norfolk.
It is true the Crome never made a fortune; to the end his lessons brought him in more money than his paintings, for any of which fifty pounds was a long and rarely attained price; but Crome did sell his pictures and in time became quite comfortably off. In 1801 he moved into a big house in Gildengate Street, he kept two horses, and managed before his death to acquire many good pictures and to form a library. Norwich was proud of her distinguished painter, and a special seat was always reserved for him in the parlor of the old inn in the market-place, where in his later years he was treated as an oracle, revered by all.
Under these circumstances we can understand why Crome continued to reside in his native Norwich and was never tempted to settle in London. In 1806 he exhibited for the first time at the Royal Academy, but between then and 1818 he only sent thirteen pictures in all to be exhibited there. He visited London occasionally, twice he went to Cumberland, in 1802 and 1806, once to Weymouth, and in 1814 he made a tour in France and Belgium, but his chief subjects were almost exclusively local. He was perfectly satisfied with the lanes, heaths, and river-banks surrounding Norwich, without wishing to journey further afield. In his great tree picture, ‘The Poringland Oak,’ he rivalled his own idol Hobbema; in ‘Moon Rise on the Yare,’ he surpassed the moonlight paintings of Van der Neer, by whom it was inspired; while masterpiece, ‘Mousehold Health,’ at the National Gallery, will always rank Crome amongst the grandest of landscape painters. Asked by his son why he had painted this last subject, Crome made the memorable reply: ‘For air and space.’
In addition to his oil paintings Crome executed a few water-colors and also a number of etchings. In 1834 a series of thirty-one of his etchings was published under the title of ‘Norfolk Picturesque Scenery.’
While out sketching in his fifty third year he caught a chill, and after a few days illness died on April 22, 1821. On the day before he died he addressed to his son the words so often quoted: ‘John, my boy, paint, but paint only for fame; and if your subject is only a pigsty, dignify it.’ The art of Old Crome is indeed a perpetual reminder that a masterpiece of painting is due far more to the treatment than to the subject, and nobody knew better than the Norwich master how to give dignity to the humblest subject by its stately presentation in a well-balanced composition.
Though his landscape art is limited in comparison with that of Turner and Constable, within his own self-imposed limits Crome is second to none. He did not set out, like Turner, to mirror the blazing glories of dawn and sunset, nor did he, like Constable, hold himself ready to paint Nature and weather in every aspect: Crome waited for the quieter moods of Nature in his own homeland, and he painted these to perfection.
Natural Landscape (continued)
The Norwich School prospered exceedingly, more so than any other body of provincial artists has ever done in England, and their success was due not only to the excellence of their own work but also to the fact that they labored in a field well prepared to receive art. It will have been observed how many of the great English landscape painters belonged to the Eastern Countries—Gainsborough and Constable were both Suffolk men—and the extent to which the art of all them was influenced by the art of Holland. The explanation is to be found in the intimate trade relations which had existed for centuries between East Anglia and the Netherlands. Owing to this commercial intercourse numbers of Dutch and Flemish pictures found their way into East Anglia homes, and while London during the eighteenth century worshipped Italian art almost to the exclusion of all other, well-to-do people in Norfolk and Suffolk took a keener delight in thte homelier art of the Dutch and Flemish Schools. Thus at the very time that Constable was being neglected in London, John Crome was enjoying esteem and wide popularity in Norfolk.
It is true the Crome never made a fortune; to the end his lessons brought him in more money than his paintings, for any of which fifty pounds was a long and rarely attained price; but Crome did sell his pictures and in time became quite comfortably off. In 1801 he moved into a big house in Gildengate Street, he kept two horses, and managed before his death to acquire many good pictures and to form a library. Norwich was proud of her distinguished painter, and a special seat was always reserved for him in the parlor of the old inn in the market-place, where in his later years he was treated as an oracle, revered by all.
Under these circumstances we can understand why Crome continued to reside in his native Norwich and was never tempted to settle in London. In 1806 he exhibited for the first time at the Royal Academy, but between then and 1818 he only sent thirteen pictures in all to be exhibited there. He visited London occasionally, twice he went to Cumberland, in 1802 and 1806, once to Weymouth, and in 1814 he made a tour in France and Belgium, but his chief subjects were almost exclusively local. He was perfectly satisfied with the lanes, heaths, and river-banks surrounding Norwich, without wishing to journey further afield. In his great tree picture, ‘The Poringland Oak,’ he rivalled his own idol Hobbema; in ‘Moon Rise on the Yare,’ he surpassed the moonlight paintings of Van der Neer, by whom it was inspired; while masterpiece, ‘Mousehold Health,’ at the National Gallery, will always rank Crome amongst the grandest of landscape painters. Asked by his son why he had painted this last subject, Crome made the memorable reply: ‘For air and space.’
In addition to his oil paintings Crome executed a few water-colors and also a number of etchings. In 1834 a series of thirty-one of his etchings was published under the title of ‘Norfolk Picturesque Scenery.’
While out sketching in his fifty third year he caught a chill, and after a few days illness died on April 22, 1821. On the day before he died he addressed to his son the words so often quoted: ‘John, my boy, paint, but paint only for fame; and if your subject is only a pigsty, dignify it.’ The art of Old Crome is indeed a perpetual reminder that a masterpiece of painting is due far more to the treatment than to the subject, and nobody knew better than the Norwich master how to give dignity to the humblest subject by its stately presentation in a well-balanced composition.
Though his landscape art is limited in comparison with that of Turner and Constable, within his own self-imposed limits Crome is second to none. He did not set out, like Turner, to mirror the blazing glories of dawn and sunset, nor did he, like Constable, hold himself ready to paint Nature and weather in every aspect: Crome waited for the quieter moods of Nature in his own homeland, and he painted these to perfection.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Keen Observation
To the best of my knowledge no one has highlighted the importance of education vs work experience in the diamond industry for a long time. I think Mordy Rapaport was spot on. It was educational + insightful.
Perspectives
(via Rapaport, Vol.31, No.5, February 1, 2008) Mordy Rapaport writes:
Education has always played an important role in business. Individuals’ job placement and overall success are many times based upon not only their workplace history but also their academic achievements. While I was signing up for business classes recently, I reflected on the study habits of my younger colleagues in the diamond industry.
The debate of education versus actual work experience has become prevalent in today’s fast-paced business environment. There seems to be a desire by individuals entering the workforce to obtain an increasingly higher level of education. Many younger individuals pursue multiple degrees, including MBAs and even PhDs, forgoing real work experience, and entering the business arena at an increasingly later stage of their lives.
The diamond business, however, differs from other industries in that there is a need for industry stakeholders to obtain the necessary knowledge of the product we continuously deal with. While business skills are direly needed, perhaps even more so than in other industries, they come second to an understanding of the product’s physical properties and the industry’s uniquely competitive environment. As a result, many very capable individuals opt out of pursuing a formal education and instead focus on the ongoing demands of their existing business and job priorities.
While both scenarios are understandable, I question whether either is the ideal route to be taken. Working in a vibrant environment with a hectic travel schedule and a large array of opportunities has forced me to consider the pros and cons of education and to prioritize my time accordingly. While gaining the general knowledge derived from the curriculum of today’s business schools is beneficial, I do not believe it to be the determining factor in whether to choose studies over hand-on-experience. Vast knowledge can be obtained from first hand experience in certain fields of work, more than can be relayed by a professor sitting in a classroom. On the other hand, limiting one’s expertise to a single commodity—which in the case of the diamond industry has immense volatility in terms of supply and demand—can be equally shortsighted. While the diamond industry provides a source of revenue for many, the ability to venture out into alternative business propositions should not be discarded.
What is needed is a middle ground. Many Indian acquaintances of mine have been able to capture the positive aspects of both worlds. Beginning work in the diamond trade at a young age, many leave India to pursue studies in some of the finest European and North American institutions. Their decision to step outside of their social circles and attend universities abroad adds immensely to their business sense and capabilities.
So while many younger individuals in our industry have previously not pursued studies in the broad range of business topics available, I believe it is crucial to obtain knowledge that will enable us to position ourselves for success. Many avenues, such as the GIA School of Business, are now available. Previously forced to choose between studies and work, today those within our trade interested in combining the two can select from multiple opportunities. While earning a bachelor’s degree does not determines one’s capabilities, it is certainly something beneficial to possess. Many outside factors not within our control affect the diamond trade today. A person’s ability to understand and counter any such effects will ultimately determine long term success.
Perspectives
(via Rapaport, Vol.31, No.5, February 1, 2008) Mordy Rapaport writes:
Education has always played an important role in business. Individuals’ job placement and overall success are many times based upon not only their workplace history but also their academic achievements. While I was signing up for business classes recently, I reflected on the study habits of my younger colleagues in the diamond industry.
The debate of education versus actual work experience has become prevalent in today’s fast-paced business environment. There seems to be a desire by individuals entering the workforce to obtain an increasingly higher level of education. Many younger individuals pursue multiple degrees, including MBAs and even PhDs, forgoing real work experience, and entering the business arena at an increasingly later stage of their lives.
The diamond business, however, differs from other industries in that there is a need for industry stakeholders to obtain the necessary knowledge of the product we continuously deal with. While business skills are direly needed, perhaps even more so than in other industries, they come second to an understanding of the product’s physical properties and the industry’s uniquely competitive environment. As a result, many very capable individuals opt out of pursuing a formal education and instead focus on the ongoing demands of their existing business and job priorities.
While both scenarios are understandable, I question whether either is the ideal route to be taken. Working in a vibrant environment with a hectic travel schedule and a large array of opportunities has forced me to consider the pros and cons of education and to prioritize my time accordingly. While gaining the general knowledge derived from the curriculum of today’s business schools is beneficial, I do not believe it to be the determining factor in whether to choose studies over hand-on-experience. Vast knowledge can be obtained from first hand experience in certain fields of work, more than can be relayed by a professor sitting in a classroom. On the other hand, limiting one’s expertise to a single commodity—which in the case of the diamond industry has immense volatility in terms of supply and demand—can be equally shortsighted. While the diamond industry provides a source of revenue for many, the ability to venture out into alternative business propositions should not be discarded.
What is needed is a middle ground. Many Indian acquaintances of mine have been able to capture the positive aspects of both worlds. Beginning work in the diamond trade at a young age, many leave India to pursue studies in some of the finest European and North American institutions. Their decision to step outside of their social circles and attend universities abroad adds immensely to their business sense and capabilities.
So while many younger individuals in our industry have previously not pursued studies in the broad range of business topics available, I believe it is crucial to obtain knowledge that will enable us to position ourselves for success. Many avenues, such as the GIA School of Business, are now available. Previously forced to choose between studies and work, today those within our trade interested in combining the two can select from multiple opportunities. While earning a bachelor’s degree does not determines one’s capabilities, it is certainly something beneficial to possess. Many outside factors not within our control affect the diamond trade today. A person’s ability to understand and counter any such effects will ultimately determine long term success.
Fragrance Ingredient Research
'There are no new colors to see and very few new sounds, but we are actually creating new, unique smells no one has ever smelled before.'
- Ned Polan
Vice President
Fragrance Ingredient Research
International Flavors & Fragrances
www.iff.com
- Ned Polan
Vice President
Fragrance Ingredient Research
International Flavors & Fragrances
www.iff.com
The Shield Cut
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
Inventories of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries describe triangular diamonds in different ways—for instance, as en demies losanges, plats à 3 quarrés, plats aux 2 costez fais à 3 quarrés, and couchiés. Most descriptions, however, include the word écu (French, from the Latin scutum, meaning a shield)—‘en guise ďun escu’, ‘en façon ďescusson’, etc. I have included all historical triangular cuts under this one heading (even those entries which represent triangular Table Cuts and Mirror Cuts), because for centuries the shield played such an important role in warfare and heraldry, and the shape of the stone took precedence over the cut. Modern triangular diamonds are described, according to the cut, as Brilliants or Step Cuts, and only as Shields if the sides are rounded.
A cleavage of an octahedral crystal (a ‘was’) displays one side with a dominating triangular face (one of the octahedral faces). It looks like a Pyramidal Point Cut, deeply buried, with only one of its faces, and small areas of the surrounding faces, exposed. This is described in French as couchié and in German as liegender.
The most important known historical jewel containing large Shield Cuts was owned by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. On his ‘Feather’, in addition to five large spinels, a Burgundian Point Cut and a Table Cut diamond weighing 7-8 ct, there were two Shields, each about 12 mm in diameter and weighing about 6 ct. They were described in 1504 as ‘zwen demant schilt mit dryen anhangenden eggkenden falsetten, gutt wasser, wigt yeglicher ungeverlich kratj sechse’. Perhaps the oldest surviving examples of Table and Table Cut Shields are to be found on the Burgundian Court Goblet, dating from the middle of the fifteenth century.
Inventories of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries describe triangular diamonds in different ways—for instance, as en demies losanges, plats à 3 quarrés, plats aux 2 costez fais à 3 quarrés, and couchiés. Most descriptions, however, include the word écu (French, from the Latin scutum, meaning a shield)—‘en guise ďun escu’, ‘en façon ďescusson’, etc. I have included all historical triangular cuts under this one heading (even those entries which represent triangular Table Cuts and Mirror Cuts), because for centuries the shield played such an important role in warfare and heraldry, and the shape of the stone took precedence over the cut. Modern triangular diamonds are described, according to the cut, as Brilliants or Step Cuts, and only as Shields if the sides are rounded.
A cleavage of an octahedral crystal (a ‘was’) displays one side with a dominating triangular face (one of the octahedral faces). It looks like a Pyramidal Point Cut, deeply buried, with only one of its faces, and small areas of the surrounding faces, exposed. This is described in French as couchié and in German as liegender.
The most important known historical jewel containing large Shield Cuts was owned by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. On his ‘Feather’, in addition to five large spinels, a Burgundian Point Cut and a Table Cut diamond weighing 7-8 ct, there were two Shields, each about 12 mm in diameter and weighing about 6 ct. They were described in 1504 as ‘zwen demant schilt mit dryen anhangenden eggkenden falsetten, gutt wasser, wigt yeglicher ungeverlich kratj sechse’. Perhaps the oldest surviving examples of Table and Table Cut Shields are to be found on the Burgundian Court Goblet, dating from the middle of the fifteenth century.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
2. Pinchbeck Settings
As the century advanced, England prospered and the general standard of living rose. Those who could not afford the luxury of fine gems could at least ape the fashions of the upper classes by wearing cheap jewelry. There were good imitation pearls; and in place of diamonds there was rock crystal, rose-cut or brilliant. ‘Bristol diamonds’ and ‘Cornish diamonds’ were rock crystal named respectively for the places where they were found. If you did not possess the desired number of jewels (genuine or counterfeit) to wear on some festive occasion, you hired them.
Inexpensive stones needed inexpensive settings, and this demand was met by a number of substitutes for gold. The most popular was an alloy of copper and zinc called ‘pinchbeck,’ after its inventor, Christopher Pinchbeck, a clock and watch maker of London.
Neither he nor his son Edward, who continued the business after his father’s death in 1732, appear to have offered their metal alloy as real gold; yet in the course of time the word ‘pinchbeck’ has come to be used in a derogatory sense to denote any cheap and fraudulent sham.
Pinchbeck gold was used for all sorts of jewelry, and for a time it would retain its yellow color without tarnishing. Frequently, however, it was given a wash of gold to prolong its brightness.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
2. Pinchbeck Settings
As the century advanced, England prospered and the general standard of living rose. Those who could not afford the luxury of fine gems could at least ape the fashions of the upper classes by wearing cheap jewelry. There were good imitation pearls; and in place of diamonds there was rock crystal, rose-cut or brilliant. ‘Bristol diamonds’ and ‘Cornish diamonds’ were rock crystal named respectively for the places where they were found. If you did not possess the desired number of jewels (genuine or counterfeit) to wear on some festive occasion, you hired them.
Inexpensive stones needed inexpensive settings, and this demand was met by a number of substitutes for gold. The most popular was an alloy of copper and zinc called ‘pinchbeck,’ after its inventor, Christopher Pinchbeck, a clock and watch maker of London.
Neither he nor his son Edward, who continued the business after his father’s death in 1732, appear to have offered their metal alloy as real gold; yet in the course of time the word ‘pinchbeck’ has come to be used in a derogatory sense to denote any cheap and fraudulent sham.
Pinchbeck gold was used for all sorts of jewelry, and for a time it would retain its yellow color without tarnishing. Frequently, however, it was given a wash of gold to prolong its brightness.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Cai Guo-Qiang
If you are in New York, you should visit Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum where 80 works by Cai Guo-Qiang, known for his pyrotechnic displays and gunpowder drawings will be exhibited from February 22 through May 28, 2008 + they are stunning!
Useful links:
www.caiguoqiang.com
www.guggenheim.org
Useful links:
www.caiguoqiang.com
www.guggenheim.org
'Tanusorn'-type Blue Sapphire Treatment
Thailand is perceived as one of the important gemstone refineries of the world + and now comes a new type of blue sapphire treatment, 'Tanusorn' type blue sapphires: 'Tanusorn' is named after Tanusorn Lethaisong, the gem 'chef', where semi-translucent pale colored sapphires consisting of many cracks are exposed to high temperature heating technique (s) involving cobalt and lead containing flux + the resultant blue coloration is due to the inclusions of blue cobalt-bearing solid residues left along healed fractures + if in doubt always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
The Mind Of A Trader
The Mind Of A Trader by Alpesh Patel contains useful guidelines for beginners + many insights from the master of the market + I liked it.
Commodities Market
Edward de Bono, wrote in his book 'I am right, you are wrong': 'The stock market is meant to reflect the values of a corporation listed. But a more direct influence on the market price is the tendency of people to buy and sell. So if you attend to and anticipate the tendency of your colleagues you will successfully play the market. After a while it becomes a game in itself and the underlying corporate values fade into the background, even though they are periodically brought forward to rationalize behavior that has really been based on other factors.' He calls such kind of behaviour as ludecy from Latin 'ludo' meaning 'I play'.
Useful link:
www.edwarddebono.com
In my view without speculation traders don't stand to gain at all + if it's seen as a game commodities market is similar to stock markets + valuable lessons for the gem/jewelry/art traders.
Useful link:
www.edwarddebono.com
In my view without speculation traders don't stand to gain at all + if it's seen as a game commodities market is similar to stock markets + valuable lessons for the gem/jewelry/art traders.
Rent-A-Jewelry Concept
There's a huge trend globally where you can rent yachts and villas, high-end vacations + and now companies are renting out Rolex/Chopard watches and brand jewelry for a modest fee so that their clients are able to attend special/charity events and look good/famous + analysts say women always fall in love with jewelry and the concept may become the wave of the future + what a spinoff!
Useful links:
www.blingyourself.com
www.borrowedbling.com
Useful links:
www.blingyourself.com
www.borrowedbling.com
DDC On Arbitration And Term Limits
Chaim Even Zohar writes about The Diamond Dealers Club (DDC) leadership issues + other viewpoints @ http://www.idexonline.com/portal_FullEditorial.asp
The French Cut
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
Pavilion-based French Cuts were square multi-faceted diamonds. They date back to the early fifteenth century, and seem to have been favored by royalty and members of the nobility—Francis I of France, Elizabeth of Austria and the Duke of Buckingham among them—but they did not become fashionable until the seventeenth century, when brilliance was first of all merely accepted and finally became a requisite of all diamonds. The Taille en Seize and the Scissor Cut also came into fashion at this time.
The French Cut followed the existing fashion for square-shaped diamonds but did not derive from octahedral rough as did the High Table Cut. Although French Cuts were produced from other types of rough if this proved suitable or if the jeweler particularly requested it, the original design apparently came from a crystal form which combined cubic and dodecahedral faces. At least the early French Cuts derived from crystals of spheroid shape.
To fashion this type of rough, first the apex had to be ground down to make a square table with its sides set diagonally to the sides of the diamond. Then the main crystal faces were remodelled into facets and the outline squared. Finally, the pavilion was adjusted to a proper depth and given a plain faceting, often in the form of a narrow cross. Although the original reason for fashioning pavilion-based French Cuts was to transform obsolete cuts into something more fashionable, the faceting design has survived to the present day.
The origin of the term French Cut is not known; most probably it was so called because it was more popular in France than anywhere else. In old inventories it is simply described as ‘a Table Cut with a lozenge on top’. For instance, an inventory of 1570 describes a diamond on the border of a headdress belonging to Elizabeth of Austria as ‘ung dyaman taillé en lozange pardessus.’ Small French Cut diamonds have survived in unimportant jewels and trinkets.
Most Flat-Bottomed French Cuts appear to have been recuts of trihedrally faceted Gothic Roses, but the result was a misshapen gem with very poor light effects. Recutting was restricted to rather small diamonds, as we can see from the French Crown inventory of 1791. The apexes of the old, low relief Rose Cuts were ground down slightly, leaving small tri-angular table facets.
Early authors seem to have been unaware of the existence of the French Cut, nor is it discussed in modern literature, where it is frequently referred to simply as ‘a historical single cut.’
Pavilion-based French Cuts were square multi-faceted diamonds. They date back to the early fifteenth century, and seem to have been favored by royalty and members of the nobility—Francis I of France, Elizabeth of Austria and the Duke of Buckingham among them—but they did not become fashionable until the seventeenth century, when brilliance was first of all merely accepted and finally became a requisite of all diamonds. The Taille en Seize and the Scissor Cut also came into fashion at this time.
The French Cut followed the existing fashion for square-shaped diamonds but did not derive from octahedral rough as did the High Table Cut. Although French Cuts were produced from other types of rough if this proved suitable or if the jeweler particularly requested it, the original design apparently came from a crystal form which combined cubic and dodecahedral faces. At least the early French Cuts derived from crystals of spheroid shape.
To fashion this type of rough, first the apex had to be ground down to make a square table with its sides set diagonally to the sides of the diamond. Then the main crystal faces were remodelled into facets and the outline squared. Finally, the pavilion was adjusted to a proper depth and given a plain faceting, often in the form of a narrow cross. Although the original reason for fashioning pavilion-based French Cuts was to transform obsolete cuts into something more fashionable, the faceting design has survived to the present day.
The origin of the term French Cut is not known; most probably it was so called because it was more popular in France than anywhere else. In old inventories it is simply described as ‘a Table Cut with a lozenge on top’. For instance, an inventory of 1570 describes a diamond on the border of a headdress belonging to Elizabeth of Austria as ‘ung dyaman taillé en lozange pardessus.’ Small French Cut diamonds have survived in unimportant jewels and trinkets.
Most Flat-Bottomed French Cuts appear to have been recuts of trihedrally faceted Gothic Roses, but the result was a misshapen gem with very poor light effects. Recutting was restricted to rather small diamonds, as we can see from the French Crown inventory of 1791. The apexes of the old, low relief Rose Cuts were ground down slightly, leaving small tri-angular table facets.
Early authors seem to have been unaware of the existence of the French Cut, nor is it discussed in modern literature, where it is frequently referred to simply as ‘a historical single cut.’
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
1. Rococo
Long after the death of Louis XIV the ‘Grand Monarque style’ continued to influence the world of fashion, spreading into many other lands besides France.
Now there had been certain rules of proportion and composition of design drawn up by the purists of the Renaissance; nevertheless, when the jeweler broke a few of these mandates and introduced a carefree twirl of golden ribbons or a forbidden scallop there was undoubted charm in the result. But as time went on the propensity to ignore all fundamental rules of design increased, in some instances, to the point of absurdity. Scrolls, curlicues, ill-proportioned masses and gimcrack detail invaded many fields of art and craft besides that of jewelry. This fantastic style of design is known as rococo, and it lasted well into the eighteenth century, with reverberations in the nineteenth century.
Since the new method of faceting diamonds had centered interest in this gem, quantities of diamonds had reached England; these and other large stones were mounted by the goldsmith in rococo settings, while the artist in fine metalwork played only second fiddle.
Reversing the fable of the ugly duckling, the once charming fledgling known as rococo, grew into a lumpish and ungainly maturity during the next half century.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
1. Rococo
Long after the death of Louis XIV the ‘Grand Monarque style’ continued to influence the world of fashion, spreading into many other lands besides France.
Now there had been certain rules of proportion and composition of design drawn up by the purists of the Renaissance; nevertheless, when the jeweler broke a few of these mandates and introduced a carefree twirl of golden ribbons or a forbidden scallop there was undoubted charm in the result. But as time went on the propensity to ignore all fundamental rules of design increased, in some instances, to the point of absurdity. Scrolls, curlicues, ill-proportioned masses and gimcrack detail invaded many fields of art and craft besides that of jewelry. This fantastic style of design is known as rococo, and it lasted well into the eighteenth century, with reverberations in the nineteenth century.
Since the new method of faceting diamonds had centered interest in this gem, quantities of diamonds had reached England; these and other large stones were mounted by the goldsmith in rococo settings, while the artist in fine metalwork played only second fiddle.
Reversing the fable of the ugly duckling, the once charming fledgling known as rococo, grew into a lumpish and ungainly maturity during the next half century.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
3
Another great landscape painter who during his lifetime never took the place in the world that his genius warranted was John Crome, frequently called ‘Old Crome,’ to distinguish him from his son, who also became a painter. Crome, who was born at Norwich on December 21, 1769, was the son of a poor weaver and began life as an errand boy, carrying bottles of medicine for a doctor, but when he was about fourteen or fifteen his love of art led him to apprentice himself to a house and sign painter. While following his trade during his apprenticeship, Crome took every opportunity of sketching the picturesque scenery which surrounds his native city. He was very, very poor, but he persevered and his perseverance gained him friends.
Chief among these friends was Mr Thomas Harvey, of Catton in Norfolk, who possessed a fine picture gallery and encouraged Crome to study and make copies of the pictures he had collected. Mr Harvey’s collection included landscapes by Richard Wilson—by whom Crome was greatly influenced—Gainsborough’s ‘Cottage Door,’ and many fine examples of the Dutch painters of the seventeenth century, notably Hobbema, for whose art Crome then conceived a passionate admiration which lasted all his life. Mr Harvey not only introduced Crome to other Norwich amateurs, but also obtained him some pupils to whom he taught drawing, though at this time the artist was only an awkward, uninformed country lad, whose deficiencies of education were to some extent compensated for by his great gifts and his natural shrewdness.
Meanwhile Crome had formed an intimate friendship with a lad of his own class, Robert Ladbrooke (1770-1842), then a printer’s apprentice, but also ambitious to become an artist. After living together for some two years, Crome and Ladbrooke married sisters, and abandoning their original trades they established themselves in partnership as artists, Ladbrooke painting portraits at five shillings apiece, and Crome selling his landscapes for what they would fetch—which was not always as much as five shillings! But for Crome’s practice as a drawing-master he could hardly have kept himself, let alone a family, in these early years, but gradually he acquired a local reputation and his landscapes found occasional purchasers, though at pitifully low prices.
In February 1803 Crome gathered round him the artists of his native city for their mutual improvement, and from this beginning arose the Norwich Society of Artists, founded in 1805. The Society held annual exhibitions to which Crome was a large contributor, for he rarely sent his pictures to London for exhibition and consequently was little known there. Crome’s pupils and associates, among whom the most distinguished were John Sell Cotman, James Stark (1794-1859), George Vincent, and his eldest son John Bernay Crome, formed what is known as the ‘Norwich School.’ The inspiration of this school was derived chiefly from Crome, but also from the Dutch painters by whom he was influenced.
Natural Landscape (continued)
3
Another great landscape painter who during his lifetime never took the place in the world that his genius warranted was John Crome, frequently called ‘Old Crome,’ to distinguish him from his son, who also became a painter. Crome, who was born at Norwich on December 21, 1769, was the son of a poor weaver and began life as an errand boy, carrying bottles of medicine for a doctor, but when he was about fourteen or fifteen his love of art led him to apprentice himself to a house and sign painter. While following his trade during his apprenticeship, Crome took every opportunity of sketching the picturesque scenery which surrounds his native city. He was very, very poor, but he persevered and his perseverance gained him friends.
Chief among these friends was Mr Thomas Harvey, of Catton in Norfolk, who possessed a fine picture gallery and encouraged Crome to study and make copies of the pictures he had collected. Mr Harvey’s collection included landscapes by Richard Wilson—by whom Crome was greatly influenced—Gainsborough’s ‘Cottage Door,’ and many fine examples of the Dutch painters of the seventeenth century, notably Hobbema, for whose art Crome then conceived a passionate admiration which lasted all his life. Mr Harvey not only introduced Crome to other Norwich amateurs, but also obtained him some pupils to whom he taught drawing, though at this time the artist was only an awkward, uninformed country lad, whose deficiencies of education were to some extent compensated for by his great gifts and his natural shrewdness.
Meanwhile Crome had formed an intimate friendship with a lad of his own class, Robert Ladbrooke (1770-1842), then a printer’s apprentice, but also ambitious to become an artist. After living together for some two years, Crome and Ladbrooke married sisters, and abandoning their original trades they established themselves in partnership as artists, Ladbrooke painting portraits at five shillings apiece, and Crome selling his landscapes for what they would fetch—which was not always as much as five shillings! But for Crome’s practice as a drawing-master he could hardly have kept himself, let alone a family, in these early years, but gradually he acquired a local reputation and his landscapes found occasional purchasers, though at pitifully low prices.
In February 1803 Crome gathered round him the artists of his native city for their mutual improvement, and from this beginning arose the Norwich Society of Artists, founded in 1805. The Society held annual exhibitions to which Crome was a large contributor, for he rarely sent his pictures to London for exhibition and consequently was little known there. Crome’s pupils and associates, among whom the most distinguished were John Sell Cotman, James Stark (1794-1859), George Vincent, and his eldest son John Bernay Crome, formed what is known as the ‘Norwich School.’ The inspiration of this school was derived chiefly from Crome, but also from the Dutch painters by whom he was influenced.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Perspective
Watches and jewelry are categories that you can hold back on. It's really a luxury in the sense of it's not a necessity whatsoever. And that's its vulnerability in more challenging times.
- Milton Pedraza, CEO, The Luxury Institute
www.luxuryinstitute.com
I think he is right + we are living in interesting times.
- Milton Pedraza, CEO, The Luxury Institute
www.luxuryinstitute.com
I think he is right + we are living in interesting times.
Philanthropy Movement
According to Giving USA, U.S charitable giving in 2006 totaled $295 billion, up from $183 billion in 2003 + the total non-profit sector has grown faster than the business sector in terms of dollars and the number of organizations + as they say the best teachers are practitioners + talk to people you know.
Useful links:
www.aafrc.org
www.bridgespangroup.org
www.gatesfoundation.org
www.hewlett.org
www.clarkfoundation.org
www.robinhood.org
www.tigerfoundation.org
www.philanthropyroundtable.org
www.foundationstrategy.com
www.givingforum.org
Useful links:
www.aafrc.org
www.bridgespangroup.org
www.gatesfoundation.org
www.hewlett.org
www.clarkfoundation.org
www.robinhood.org
www.tigerfoundation.org
www.philanthropyroundtable.org
www.foundationstrategy.com
www.givingforum.org
Saffront Art Online Auction
The Saffronart spring online auction of modern Indian art works will take place March 12-13, 2008 and feature 140 works by 55 artists + paintings of Surendran Nair/Atul Dodiya /A Balasubramaniam/Subodh Gupta ++++
Useful link:
www.saffronart.com
Useful link:
www.saffronart.com
Contemporary Art In The Mekong Region
Kamol Sukin writes about a historic contemporary-art event in Bangkok, a two-year process to introduce the art-curator profession into Mekong countries + the process of selecting artists and art pieces in their home towns and discussing each piece with the others, both online and in person + other viewpoints @ http://www.nationmultimedia.com/2008/02/10/headlines/headlines_30064932.php
Friday, February 22, 2008
Gold Market
According to World Gold Council + Shanghai Gold Exchange, China has overtaken the United States to become the second biggest market in the world for gold and gold jewelry + the Shanghai Gold Exchange (SGE) report shows sales of gold and gold products on the Chinese mainland, a record high in 2007 at 316.49 trillion yuan (£22.68 trillion) + it's the world's top gold producer, ending South Africa's 102-year reign.
Useful links:
www.gold.org
www.sge.sh
www.gfms.co.uk
Useful links:
www.gold.org
www.sge.sh
www.gfms.co.uk
The Three Gorges Dam
Find out more about The Three Gorges Dam @ www.ctgpc.com + it's one of the great official modernisation projects in China, for the sake of energy +++++
The Power Laws
The Power Laws by Richard Koch is simply brilliant + I think that his solutions are not only for businesses, but also for life in general + I liked it.
Random Thoughts
It is clear the future holds opportunities—it also holds pitfalls. The trick will be to seize the opportunities, avoid the pitfalls and get back home by 6 o'clock.
- Woody Allen
I liked this one.
- Woody Allen
I liked this one.
The Scissor Cut
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
It is not always easy to choose the best name for a particular cut from the variety of names given to it in diamond literature. The term Cross Cut has been quite widely used for design which I prefer to call the Scissor Cut. Cross Cut is unfortunate for two reasons: first, because it does not look like a cross, and secondly because the term ‘cross work’ is used today to describe the placing of the table, culet and first four main facets on the crown and pavilion. This preparatory operation produces what used to be called a Table Cut but is now termed a ‘four square’ or ‘cross’. More elaborately faceted Scissor Cuts have sometimes been given fancy names such as Maltese Cross (there is a variety in which the cross can actually be seen). To avoid confusion, I hope that the term Scissor Cut will eventually be accepted everywhere and for all gems.
In the case of diamonds, this cut dates back to the early sixteenth century; it gradually vanished in favor of the Brilliant Cut into which most Scissors had been fashioned by 1700 or so. It is logical to assume that the Scissor Cut originally developed from Pyramidal Cuts with trihedral faceting; the apexes of these obsolete Gothic cuts were replaced by table facets, very much in the way in which French Cuts were created from spheroid crystals.
No significant references to the Scissor Cut have so far been found, either in inventories (in which they appear to have been described simply as Table Cuts or ‘faceted diamonds’), or in diamond literature or old pattern books. The low-relief faceting of the Scissor Cut could not improve on the light effects of a Table Cut, so the design was soon abandoned. But it was gradually adopted for colored gems such as beryls, quartzes, etc., whose lower refracting power favored such faceting. Caire recommeded the Scissor Cut for purple and violet sapphires.
All the Scissor Cuts in designs by, for example, Morison, Albini and Dinglinger were large, and none is believed to have been a diamond. Fortunately there are a number of Scissor Cut diamonds in authentic jewels in the Schatzkammer der Residenz in Munich. They are quite small and therefore insignificant as jewels, but are interesting from a historical point of view. There are almost one hundred Scissor Cut Hogbacks (some of them flat-bottomed) on the heraldic double crowned eagle in Anne of Austria’s collection, dating from about 1550. On the splendid necklace acquired by Duke Albrecht V in about 1575 there are two tiny square Scissors. There is also one on hand seal made around 1690 and later owned by the Empress Amalie, daughter of Joseph I. She married Charles Albert, who became Emperor of Germany in 1742.
In the Cheapside Hoard (found in 1913 under a house in London) is a 3ct Scissor Cut. The cut, with two distinctly blunt corners, is rather poorly proportioned. Most disturbing is the incongruity of both the table and the culet. The stone measures about 8.4 x 8mm. It is set in an enamelled finger ring and apparently dates from the sixteenth century. The ‘scissors’ are in very low relief and not easily discerned.
It is not always easy to choose the best name for a particular cut from the variety of names given to it in diamond literature. The term Cross Cut has been quite widely used for design which I prefer to call the Scissor Cut. Cross Cut is unfortunate for two reasons: first, because it does not look like a cross, and secondly because the term ‘cross work’ is used today to describe the placing of the table, culet and first four main facets on the crown and pavilion. This preparatory operation produces what used to be called a Table Cut but is now termed a ‘four square’ or ‘cross’. More elaborately faceted Scissor Cuts have sometimes been given fancy names such as Maltese Cross (there is a variety in which the cross can actually be seen). To avoid confusion, I hope that the term Scissor Cut will eventually be accepted everywhere and for all gems.
In the case of diamonds, this cut dates back to the early sixteenth century; it gradually vanished in favor of the Brilliant Cut into which most Scissors had been fashioned by 1700 or so. It is logical to assume that the Scissor Cut originally developed from Pyramidal Cuts with trihedral faceting; the apexes of these obsolete Gothic cuts were replaced by table facets, very much in the way in which French Cuts were created from spheroid crystals.
No significant references to the Scissor Cut have so far been found, either in inventories (in which they appear to have been described simply as Table Cuts or ‘faceted diamonds’), or in diamond literature or old pattern books. The low-relief faceting of the Scissor Cut could not improve on the light effects of a Table Cut, so the design was soon abandoned. But it was gradually adopted for colored gems such as beryls, quartzes, etc., whose lower refracting power favored such faceting. Caire recommeded the Scissor Cut for purple and violet sapphires.
All the Scissor Cuts in designs by, for example, Morison, Albini and Dinglinger were large, and none is believed to have been a diamond. Fortunately there are a number of Scissor Cut diamonds in authentic jewels in the Schatzkammer der Residenz in Munich. They are quite small and therefore insignificant as jewels, but are interesting from a historical point of view. There are almost one hundred Scissor Cut Hogbacks (some of them flat-bottomed) on the heraldic double crowned eagle in Anne of Austria’s collection, dating from about 1550. On the splendid necklace acquired by Duke Albrecht V in about 1575 there are two tiny square Scissors. There is also one on hand seal made around 1690 and later owned by the Empress Amalie, daughter of Joseph I. She married Charles Albert, who became Emperor of Germany in 1742.
In the Cheapside Hoard (found in 1913 under a house in London) is a 3ct Scissor Cut. The cut, with two distinctly blunt corners, is rather poorly proportioned. Most disturbing is the incongruity of both the table and the culet. The stone measures about 8.4 x 8mm. It is set in an enamelled finger ring and apparently dates from the sixteenth century. The ‘scissors’ are in very low relief and not easily discerned.
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
5. The Flower Motive
Although the glitter and sparkle of the diamond gave it first place as a jewel in the French Court, enamel had by no means lost its vogue. It was employed in graceful designs, carried out in silhouettes of white on a black ground; or the enamel might by polychrome; or again, a surface of monochrome enamel was painted with fusible colors.
French jewelers had turned for inspiration to the vegetable kingdom. Leaves and flowers were made of gold and gems, or painted on enamel, crowded the market. One design in particular, based on the pea-pod (genre cosse de pois), was especially characteristic of the times.
Tulips also held a prominent place in design. Then, even as now, current events influenced fashion, and it was during the first half of the seventeenth century that Holland went mad over tulips. At this time occured one of the most curious epidemic crazes of history. A single tulip bulb brought $5200. Men bought and sold bulbs not yet existing or divided the value of individual bulbs into shares. Of course with such a trumpheting of publicity the tulip was bound to be featured in the fashions.
Painted enamel was especially adapted to the naturalistic representation of flowers. Not only tulips, but roses, lilies, hyacinths and other flowers conventionally woven into garlands and festoons were exquisitely pictured on background of uniform color. One scarcely knows whether the craftsmen should be called a painter or a jeweler.
As the flower motive was developed in England the very setting of a gem was composed of massed flowers wrought in gold or gold and enamel.
5. The Flower Motive
Although the glitter and sparkle of the diamond gave it first place as a jewel in the French Court, enamel had by no means lost its vogue. It was employed in graceful designs, carried out in silhouettes of white on a black ground; or the enamel might by polychrome; or again, a surface of monochrome enamel was painted with fusible colors.
French jewelers had turned for inspiration to the vegetable kingdom. Leaves and flowers were made of gold and gems, or painted on enamel, crowded the market. One design in particular, based on the pea-pod (genre cosse de pois), was especially characteristic of the times.
Tulips also held a prominent place in design. Then, even as now, current events influenced fashion, and it was during the first half of the seventeenth century that Holland went mad over tulips. At this time occured one of the most curious epidemic crazes of history. A single tulip bulb brought $5200. Men bought and sold bulbs not yet existing or divided the value of individual bulbs into shares. Of course with such a trumpheting of publicity the tulip was bound to be featured in the fashions.
Painted enamel was especially adapted to the naturalistic representation of flowers. Not only tulips, but roses, lilies, hyacinths and other flowers conventionally woven into garlands and festoons were exquisitely pictured on background of uniform color. One scarcely knows whether the craftsmen should be called a painter or a jeweler.
As the flower motive was developed in England the very setting of a gem was composed of massed flowers wrought in gold or gold and enamel.
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
2
Constable was not the first nor was he the last English painter whose art was appreciated in France long before his talent was duly recognized in his own country, and it may be argued that his triumph at Paris in 1824 was to some extent anticipated by the warm welcome which he Parisians had already given to his young compatriot Richard Parkes Bonington. The father of Bonington was an extraordinary man who had originally succeeded his father as governor of the Nottingham county gaol, but he lost this appointment through his irregularities and then set up as the real mainstay of the family. His son Richard was born at Arnold, a village near Nottingham, on October 25, 1801, and at an early age showed a talent for drawing which made him another infant prodigy, like Lawrence.
Meanwhile his father’s love of low company, intemperate habits, and violent political opinions had broken up his wife’s school, and about the time of the fall of Napoleon the family fled to France, first to Calais and then to Paris. Henceforward Richard Parkes Bonington, though still a boy, was the chief breadwinner for the family. In 1816 he obtained permission to copy pictures at the Louvre, where he was said to be the youngest student on record, and he also worked in the studio of Baron Gros, where his improvement was so rapid that his master soon told him he had nothing more to learn from him, and advised him to go out into the world and paint from Nature on his own account. This advice Bonington took, traveling extensively in France and also visiting Italy in 1822. His oil paintings and water colors, which were exceedingly rich in color and full of vitality, were quickly appreciated and the reputation of Bonington rapidly increased in Paris. In 1824, when Constable received his gold medal, another gold medal was also awarded to Bonington for the two coast scenes which he had sent to the Salon.
Though he had visited England now and again, Bonington was quite unknown here till 1826, when he exhibited at the British Institution two views on the French coast which surprised the English painters and at once gave him a name among his own countrymen. In the following year he exhibited another marine subject at the Academy, and in 1828—though still residing in Paris—he sent to the Academy a view on the Grand Canal, Venice, and a small historical painting of ‘Henri III of France.’ Though but twenty seven years of age, Bonington for some time had been greatly esteemed in France, and now commissions flowed upon him from England also. Anxious to fulfil them, the artist worked feverishly during the hot summer, and after a long day sketching under a scorching sun in Paris he was attacked by brain fever, followed by a severe illness. When his health had slightly improved he came over to London for medial advice, but it was too late. He had fallen into galloping consumption, and the brilliant promise of his career was cut short by his death on September 23, 1828. He was buried in the vaults of St Jame’s Church, Pentonville.
The early deaths of Girtin and Bonington were the two greatest blows British art had received, and had they lived it seems probable that Bonington might have gone even further than Girtin. His range for his years was remarkably wide, and he was as skillful in painting figures as he was in landscapes and marine subjects. His art was picturesque, romantic, and often dramatic, while he had an opulent sense of color and was able to imbue his figure paintings with a wonderful sense of life. In the Louvre, Paris, where the artist studied as a boy, the examples of Bonington’s art are more numerous and important than those at the National Gallery, London, which possesses two only, a Normandy landscape, bequeathed by Mr George Salting, and ‘The Column of St Mark, Venice.’ Happily Bonington’s work is well represented in the Wallace Collection, where there are ten of his paintings and twenty four water colors, among the former being the picture of ‘Henri IV and the Spanish Ambassador,’ which so long as 1870 fetched the considerable price of £3320 in a sale at Paris.
Natural Landscape (continued)
2
Constable was not the first nor was he the last English painter whose art was appreciated in France long before his talent was duly recognized in his own country, and it may be argued that his triumph at Paris in 1824 was to some extent anticipated by the warm welcome which he Parisians had already given to his young compatriot Richard Parkes Bonington. The father of Bonington was an extraordinary man who had originally succeeded his father as governor of the Nottingham county gaol, but he lost this appointment through his irregularities and then set up as the real mainstay of the family. His son Richard was born at Arnold, a village near Nottingham, on October 25, 1801, and at an early age showed a talent for drawing which made him another infant prodigy, like Lawrence.
Meanwhile his father’s love of low company, intemperate habits, and violent political opinions had broken up his wife’s school, and about the time of the fall of Napoleon the family fled to France, first to Calais and then to Paris. Henceforward Richard Parkes Bonington, though still a boy, was the chief breadwinner for the family. In 1816 he obtained permission to copy pictures at the Louvre, where he was said to be the youngest student on record, and he also worked in the studio of Baron Gros, where his improvement was so rapid that his master soon told him he had nothing more to learn from him, and advised him to go out into the world and paint from Nature on his own account. This advice Bonington took, traveling extensively in France and also visiting Italy in 1822. His oil paintings and water colors, which were exceedingly rich in color and full of vitality, were quickly appreciated and the reputation of Bonington rapidly increased in Paris. In 1824, when Constable received his gold medal, another gold medal was also awarded to Bonington for the two coast scenes which he had sent to the Salon.
Though he had visited England now and again, Bonington was quite unknown here till 1826, when he exhibited at the British Institution two views on the French coast which surprised the English painters and at once gave him a name among his own countrymen. In the following year he exhibited another marine subject at the Academy, and in 1828—though still residing in Paris—he sent to the Academy a view on the Grand Canal, Venice, and a small historical painting of ‘Henri III of France.’ Though but twenty seven years of age, Bonington for some time had been greatly esteemed in France, and now commissions flowed upon him from England also. Anxious to fulfil them, the artist worked feverishly during the hot summer, and after a long day sketching under a scorching sun in Paris he was attacked by brain fever, followed by a severe illness. When his health had slightly improved he came over to London for medial advice, but it was too late. He had fallen into galloping consumption, and the brilliant promise of his career was cut short by his death on September 23, 1828. He was buried in the vaults of St Jame’s Church, Pentonville.
The early deaths of Girtin and Bonington were the two greatest blows British art had received, and had they lived it seems probable that Bonington might have gone even further than Girtin. His range for his years was remarkably wide, and he was as skillful in painting figures as he was in landscapes and marine subjects. His art was picturesque, romantic, and often dramatic, while he had an opulent sense of color and was able to imbue his figure paintings with a wonderful sense of life. In the Louvre, Paris, where the artist studied as a boy, the examples of Bonington’s art are more numerous and important than those at the National Gallery, London, which possesses two only, a Normandy landscape, bequeathed by Mr George Salting, and ‘The Column of St Mark, Venice.’ Happily Bonington’s work is well represented in the Wallace Collection, where there are ten of his paintings and twenty four water colors, among the former being the picture of ‘Henri IV and the Spanish Ambassador,’ which so long as 1870 fetched the considerable price of £3320 in a sale at Paris.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Forbes Greatest Investing Stories
Forbes Greatest Investment Stories by Richard Phalon tracks the stories of some of the most successful investors in the history of Wall Street + fundamental lessons + anecdotes + contains valuable lessons + a great read + I liked it.
The Scissor Cut
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
It is not always easy to choose the best name for a particular cut from the variety of names given to it in diamond literature. The term Cross Cut has been quite widely used for design which I prefer to call the Scissor Cut. Cross Cut is unfortunate for two reasons: first, because it does not look like a cross, and secondly because the term ‘cross work’ is used today to describe the placing of the table, culet and first four main facets on the crown and pavilion. This preparatory operation produces what used to be called a Table Cut but is now termed a ‘four square’ or ‘cross’. More elaborately faceted Scissor Cuts have sometimes been given fancy names such as Maltese Cross (there is a variety in which the cross can actually be seen). To avoid confusion, I hope that the term Scissor Cut will eventually be accepted everywhere and for all gems.
In the case of diamonds, this cut dates back to the early sixteenth century; it gradually vanished in favor of the Brilliant Cut into which most Scissors had been fashioned by 1700 or so. It is logical to assume that the Scissor Cut originally developed from Pyramidal Cuts with trihedral faceting; the apexes of these obsolete Gothic cuts were replaced by table facets, very much in the way in which French Cuts were created from spheroid crystals.
No significant references to the Scissor Cut have so far been found, either in inventories (in which they appear to have been described simply as Table Cuts or ‘faceted diamonds’), or in diamond literature or old pattern books. The low-relief faceting of the Scissor Cut could not improve on the light effects of a Table Cut, so the design was soon abandoned. But it was gradually adopted for colored gems such as beryls, quartzes, etc., whose lower refracting power favored such faceting. Caire recommeded the Scissor Cut for purple and violet sapphires.
All the Scissor Cuts in designs by, for example, Morison, Albini and Dinglinger were large, and none is believed to have been a diamond. Fortunately there are a number of Scissor Cut diamonds in authentic jewels in the Schatzkammer der Residenz in Munich. They are quite small and therefore insignificant as jewels, but are interesting from a historical point of view. There are almost one hundred Scissor Cut Hogbacks (some of them flat-bottomed) on the heraldic double crowned eagle in Anne of Austria’s collection, dating from about 1550. On the splendid necklace acquired by Duke Albrecht V in about 1575 there are two tiny square Scissors. There is also one on hand seal made around 1690 and later owned by the Empress Amalie, daughter of Joseph I. She married Charles Albert, who became Emperor of Germany in 1742.
In the Cheapside Hoard (found in 1913 under a house in London) is a 3ct Scissor Cut. The cut, with two distinctly blunt corners, is rather poorly proportioned. Most disturbing is the incongruity of both the table and the culet. The stone measures about 8.4 x 8mm. It is set in an enamelled finger ring and apparently dates from the sixteenth century. The ‘scissors’ are in very low relief and not easily discerned.
It is not always easy to choose the best name for a particular cut from the variety of names given to it in diamond literature. The term Cross Cut has been quite widely used for design which I prefer to call the Scissor Cut. Cross Cut is unfortunate for two reasons: first, because it does not look like a cross, and secondly because the term ‘cross work’ is used today to describe the placing of the table, culet and first four main facets on the crown and pavilion. This preparatory operation produces what used to be called a Table Cut but is now termed a ‘four square’ or ‘cross’. More elaborately faceted Scissor Cuts have sometimes been given fancy names such as Maltese Cross (there is a variety in which the cross can actually be seen). To avoid confusion, I hope that the term Scissor Cut will eventually be accepted everywhere and for all gems.
In the case of diamonds, this cut dates back to the early sixteenth century; it gradually vanished in favor of the Brilliant Cut into which most Scissors had been fashioned by 1700 or so. It is logical to assume that the Scissor Cut originally developed from Pyramidal Cuts with trihedral faceting; the apexes of these obsolete Gothic cuts were replaced by table facets, very much in the way in which French Cuts were created from spheroid crystals.
No significant references to the Scissor Cut have so far been found, either in inventories (in which they appear to have been described simply as Table Cuts or ‘faceted diamonds’), or in diamond literature or old pattern books. The low-relief faceting of the Scissor Cut could not improve on the light effects of a Table Cut, so the design was soon abandoned. But it was gradually adopted for colored gems such as beryls, quartzes, etc., whose lower refracting power favored such faceting. Caire recommeded the Scissor Cut for purple and violet sapphires.
All the Scissor Cuts in designs by, for example, Morison, Albini and Dinglinger were large, and none is believed to have been a diamond. Fortunately there are a number of Scissor Cut diamonds in authentic jewels in the Schatzkammer der Residenz in Munich. They are quite small and therefore insignificant as jewels, but are interesting from a historical point of view. There are almost one hundred Scissor Cut Hogbacks (some of them flat-bottomed) on the heraldic double crowned eagle in Anne of Austria’s collection, dating from about 1550. On the splendid necklace acquired by Duke Albrecht V in about 1575 there are two tiny square Scissors. There is also one on hand seal made around 1690 and later owned by the Empress Amalie, daughter of Joseph I. She married Charles Albert, who became Emperor of Germany in 1742.
In the Cheapside Hoard (found in 1913 under a house in London) is a 3ct Scissor Cut. The cut, with two distinctly blunt corners, is rather poorly proportioned. Most disturbing is the incongruity of both the table and the culet. The stone measures about 8.4 x 8mm. It is set in an enamelled finger ring and apparently dates from the sixteenth century. The ‘scissors’ are in very low relief and not easily discerned.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Otolith Jewelry
Fish ear bones, called otoliths are complex polycrystalline structures composed of calcium carbonate and organic material + the native people in North Amercia have a history of using the material in a variety of designs for jewelry + they are unique.
Useful links:
www.artfulenergy.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otolith
Useful links:
www.artfulenergy.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otolith
Uranium Find In China
According to an official statement from China’s Mineral Ministry, Chinese geologists have discovered 10,000-ton level leaching sandstone-type uranium deposit at Yili basin, which is in the northwestern Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region + the deposit would produce more than $40 billion worth of uranium, coal and associated minerals, with coal resources totaling more than 4 billion tons.
Useful links:
www.mlr.gov.cn
www.chinamining.org
Useful links:
www.mlr.gov.cn
www.chinamining.org
Heard On The Street
No religion + no emotion + no ego + no rules + accept with open heart and mind that the only constant is change + the urge to learn is a journey, not a destination + do something you love.
Banksy Collections
I am a Banksy fan + his new collections will be shown at The Andipa Gallery @ www.andipamodern.com from Feb 29 - Mar 29, 2008
Zeng Fanzhi
I think Zeng Fanzhi is one of the major artists shaping Chinese culture of today + I liked his recent works which are more calligraphic and landscape-focussed with Chinese cultural color and character.
Useful links:
www.shanghartgallery.com
www.nhb.gov.sg
Useful links:
www.shanghartgallery.com
www.nhb.gov.sg
Walter Kistler + His Ideas
I found the Foundation for the Future + their works interesting because Walter Kistler’s idea of utilizing scientists and scholars from various fields of expertise + synthesizing their ideas for common good are delightfully stimulating and rewarding in the long term + I really liked it.
Useful link:
www.futurefoundation.org
Useful link:
www.futurefoundation.org
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
4. Precious Stones And Spices
Trading in diamonds was one of the most popular forms of investment. In his inimitable Diary, Samuel Pepys entered, under the date November 16, 1664, the following:
To Eriffe; where Madame Williams did give me information of Wm. How’s having brought eight bags of precious stones, taken from about the Dutch Vice Admiral’s neck; of which there were eight diamonds which cost him four thousand pounds sterling, in India; and hoped to have made twelve thousand pounds here for them. So, I on board; where Sir Edmund Pooly carried me down into the hold of the India ship, and there did show me the greatest wealth lie in confusion that a man can see in the world—pepper scattered through every chink, you trod upon it; and in cloves and nutmegs I walked above the knees; whole rooms full.
And so it was in Pepy’s time, even as in ancient times, precious stones and spices traveled side by side.
The last years of Louis’ reign brough misfortune to many, including the highly skilled craftsmen who were driven from France by religious persecution. Among the chief jewelers to leave Paris and settle in England was the celebrated Sir John Chardin. Like Tavernier, he had traveled extensively in the Orient, where he had collected many valuable gems.
The Court of Charles II welcomed Chardin and appointed him jeweler to the King. Charles could now be well supplied with jewelry in the ‘Grand Monarque style.’
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century (continued)
4. Precious Stones And Spices
Trading in diamonds was one of the most popular forms of investment. In his inimitable Diary, Samuel Pepys entered, under the date November 16, 1664, the following:
To Eriffe; where Madame Williams did give me information of Wm. How’s having brought eight bags of precious stones, taken from about the Dutch Vice Admiral’s neck; of which there were eight diamonds which cost him four thousand pounds sterling, in India; and hoped to have made twelve thousand pounds here for them. So, I on board; where Sir Edmund Pooly carried me down into the hold of the India ship, and there did show me the greatest wealth lie in confusion that a man can see in the world—pepper scattered through every chink, you trod upon it; and in cloves and nutmegs I walked above the knees; whole rooms full.
And so it was in Pepy’s time, even as in ancient times, precious stones and spices traveled side by side.
The last years of Louis’ reign brough misfortune to many, including the highly skilled craftsmen who were driven from France by religious persecution. Among the chief jewelers to leave Paris and settle in England was the celebrated Sir John Chardin. Like Tavernier, he had traveled extensively in the Orient, where he had collected many valuable gems.
The Court of Charles II welcomed Chardin and appointed him jeweler to the King. Charles could now be well supplied with jewelry in the ‘Grand Monarque style.’
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century (continued)
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
But few except other artists applied, and as he grew older his house became fuller and fuller of unsold pictures. After his sixtieth birthday, in 1836, his health became uncertain, and on March 30, 1837, he died suddenly in his house at Hampstead. Almost immediately after his death the world awoke to his genius, and in the same year a number of gentlemen who admired his work clubbed together and bought from the executors his picture ‘The Cornfield,’ which they presented to the nation. Strangely enough this artist, who was so little known during his own lifetime, has since his death become a familiar personality, thanks to the pious solicitude of his friend, the genre-painter C R Leslie (1794-1859, whose Memoirs of John Constable, R.A is one of the best biographies of a painter ever written. It is a classic which, for the intimate insight it gives us into the character of the man, may be compared wtih Boswell’s Johnson. All who met Constable were attracted by his simple, kindly, affectionate nature, and perhaps the most touching tribute to his memory was paid by a London cab-driver who, when he heard that he would never drive Constable again, told Leslie he was ‘as sorry as if he had been my own father—he was a nice man as that, sir.’
Leslie had always been a firm believer in the genius of Constable, and wrote of his works: ‘I cannot but think that they will attain for him, when his merits are fully acknowledged, the praise of having been the most genuine painter of English landscape that has yet lived.’ Subsequent generations have corroborated Leslie’s opinion, and another genre-painter, Sir J.D.Linton, who was born three years after Constable’s death, has testified to the genius of Constable and to the effect of his painting. ‘His art,’ wrote Linton, ‘ has had the widest and most lasting influence both at home and abroad....Although Turner is accepted as the greater master of landscape painting, and his work has not been without very great influence, Constable’s robust and massive manner has affected the modern schools more universally.’
While we admire Turner we love Constable the more dearly, perhaps because his art is so essentially English. Never did a landscape painter travel less than Constable in search of a subject. While Turner toured all over Europe, Constable opened his door and found beauty waiting to be painted. With exceptions so few that they do not bulk largely in his work, all Constable’s landscapes are drawn, either from his birthplace, that is to say the borders of Essex and Suffolk about the Stour, now known as ‘the Constable country,’ or at Hampstead, where his house yet stands. The hill with a clump of firs on it, close to the Spaniard’s, is to this day spoken of as ‘Constable’s Knoll.’ His only other sketching ground of real importance was Salisbury, whither he was doubtless drawn by his friendship with the Rev John Fisher. Of his many paintings of Salisbury Cathedral, one of the most beautiful is the painting in the South Kensington Museum, from which we see that had his bent been that way Constable could have painted architectural subjects as truly and beautifully as he did landscapes.
It was the supreme distinction of Constable to destroy Beaumont’s fallacy that a ‘brown’ landscape was a ‘good’ landscape, and to paint all the greenness in Nature. He loved to paint the glitter of light on trees after rain, and the little touches of white paint with which he achieved the effect of their sparkle were jocularly alluded to as ‘Constable’s Snow.’ No painter before him had painted with so much truth the actual color of Nature’s lighting, and since Constable the true color of Nature in light and shadow has increasingly become the preoccupation of the ‘natural’ landscape painter.
Natural Landscape (continued)
But few except other artists applied, and as he grew older his house became fuller and fuller of unsold pictures. After his sixtieth birthday, in 1836, his health became uncertain, and on March 30, 1837, he died suddenly in his house at Hampstead. Almost immediately after his death the world awoke to his genius, and in the same year a number of gentlemen who admired his work clubbed together and bought from the executors his picture ‘The Cornfield,’ which they presented to the nation. Strangely enough this artist, who was so little known during his own lifetime, has since his death become a familiar personality, thanks to the pious solicitude of his friend, the genre-painter C R Leslie (1794-1859, whose Memoirs of John Constable, R.A is one of the best biographies of a painter ever written. It is a classic which, for the intimate insight it gives us into the character of the man, may be compared wtih Boswell’s Johnson. All who met Constable were attracted by his simple, kindly, affectionate nature, and perhaps the most touching tribute to his memory was paid by a London cab-driver who, when he heard that he would never drive Constable again, told Leslie he was ‘as sorry as if he had been my own father—he was a nice man as that, sir.’
Leslie had always been a firm believer in the genius of Constable, and wrote of his works: ‘I cannot but think that they will attain for him, when his merits are fully acknowledged, the praise of having been the most genuine painter of English landscape that has yet lived.’ Subsequent generations have corroborated Leslie’s opinion, and another genre-painter, Sir J.D.Linton, who was born three years after Constable’s death, has testified to the genius of Constable and to the effect of his painting. ‘His art,’ wrote Linton, ‘ has had the widest and most lasting influence both at home and abroad....Although Turner is accepted as the greater master of landscape painting, and his work has not been without very great influence, Constable’s robust and massive manner has affected the modern schools more universally.’
While we admire Turner we love Constable the more dearly, perhaps because his art is so essentially English. Never did a landscape painter travel less than Constable in search of a subject. While Turner toured all over Europe, Constable opened his door and found beauty waiting to be painted. With exceptions so few that they do not bulk largely in his work, all Constable’s landscapes are drawn, either from his birthplace, that is to say the borders of Essex and Suffolk about the Stour, now known as ‘the Constable country,’ or at Hampstead, where his house yet stands. The hill with a clump of firs on it, close to the Spaniard’s, is to this day spoken of as ‘Constable’s Knoll.’ His only other sketching ground of real importance was Salisbury, whither he was doubtless drawn by his friendship with the Rev John Fisher. Of his many paintings of Salisbury Cathedral, one of the most beautiful is the painting in the South Kensington Museum, from which we see that had his bent been that way Constable could have painted architectural subjects as truly and beautifully as he did landscapes.
It was the supreme distinction of Constable to destroy Beaumont’s fallacy that a ‘brown’ landscape was a ‘good’ landscape, and to paint all the greenness in Nature. He loved to paint the glitter of light on trees after rain, and the little touches of white paint with which he achieved the effect of their sparkle were jocularly alluded to as ‘Constable’s Snow.’ No painter before him had painted with so much truth the actual color of Nature’s lighting, and since Constable the true color of Nature in light and shadow has increasingly become the preoccupation of the ‘natural’ landscape painter.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Portugal’s Model Town
Sun + Water + Waves + Wind = Energy
Moura, in southern Portugal is the model town + it represents the coming of age of solar power + it will be the biggest photovoltaic power station in the world + experts believe it’s a viable technology + Portugal's plan to switch electricity generation from fossil fuels to renewable energy sources represents coming of age, and other countries will have to try to follow Portugal's lead.
Useful links:
www.min-economia.pt
http://aesol.es
Moura, in southern Portugal is the model town + it represents the coming of age of solar power + it will be the biggest photovoltaic power station in the world + experts believe it’s a viable technology + Portugal's plan to switch electricity generation from fossil fuels to renewable energy sources represents coming of age, and other countries will have to try to follow Portugal's lead.
Useful links:
www.min-economia.pt
http://aesol.es
Sinhalite From Burma
Sinhalite has been known from Burma (Ohn Gaing: Ongaing, in northern Mogok) for decades + crystals are well-formed + the colors range from light yellow to brownish yellow + the brown coloration is due to iron and other trace elements (Cr/Mn/Ga/Zn) + most commonly confused with chrysoberyl + the name comes from the word Sinhala, the Sanskrit word for Sri Lanka (Ceylon) + if in doubt always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
Gold Prospectors
Elisabeth Malkin writes about a new breed of gold prospector: geologists and engineers, armed with sophisticated equipment and millions in investor dollars + other viewpoints @ http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/02/18/business/gold.php
Useful links:
www.imdex.com
www.diabras.com
www.paramountgold.com
Useful links:
www.imdex.com
www.diabras.com
www.paramountgold.com
Great Ideas In Psychology
Great Ideas in Psychology: A Cultural and Historical Introduction by Fathali M. Moghaddam is an excellent book on group thinking + I liked it.
Diamond Update
A 101.27-carat stone, the biggest colorless diamond to appear at auction for 20 years, will be sold at the Hong Kong branch of Christie's auction house on May 28, 2008 (the diamond was found at the Premier diamond mine in South Africa, and is being sold by a Europe-based diamond trading company) + expect pleasant surprises!
Useful link:
www.christies.com
Useful link:
www.christies.com
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Dangerous Destinations
(via Forbes) In Pictures: World's Most Dangerous Destinations.
Useful links:
www.ijet.com
www.control-risks.com
I think the info should be useful for gemstone and art dealers who travel frequently to find what they like + certain threats are more frequent now than they have been so you should do your homework and do the right thing.
Useful links:
www.ijet.com
www.control-risks.com
I think the info should be useful for gemstone and art dealers who travel frequently to find what they like + certain threats are more frequent now than they have been so you should do your homework and do the right thing.
The Russian Connection
I found the gold tie clip in the form of a Russian Kalashnikov assault rifle (Junwex, in St Petersburg) @ http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/feb/19/russia very interesting + I liked it.
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
3. The Twelve Mazarins
For some years after young Louis XIV became King of France the diamond cutters of Paris found themselves struggling against heavy odds. For one thing, many Parisians, instead of patroniziing the home jeweler, turned to Amsterdam, where they could buy the finest stones of Golconda, cut in the latest mode, the rose.
Possibly it was with an eye to stimulating interest in the work of French gem cutters that at this time it was decided to refashion twelve of the thickest diamonds in the royal crown. At any rate, under the direction of Cardinal Mazarin the twelve stones were recut according to a new form specially invented for the occasion. Whether or not the Cardinal himself actually did invent the new cutting is a question, but he is usually credited with having done so.
The twelve stones were named for him—The Twelve Mazarins. All we know of their ultimate fate is that in an inventory of the crown jewels of France, dated 1774, there is one diamond listed as ‘The Tenth Mazarin.’ According to the late E W Streeter, leading English authority on gems that ‘tenth Mazarin’ was a ‘four-cornered brilliant.’
The typical brilliant-cut, however, was not invented until the close of the century.
After the Court of Louis XIV had developed into the most magnificent in Europe, the Paris jewelers were top of the wave. Many of them were quartered in the Louvre. They led the fashion in jewelry and their designs became international through the publication of engraved patterns, ready for copying by goldsmiths at large.
Luxury and more luxury was called for by the dazzling monarch. When the noblemen of France or Spain appeared before his super-royal eyes, Louis demanded that they and their wives should carry upon their persons fortunes equal to ‘the value of lands and forests’ in the form of glittering gems. The great mirrors of the famous Galérie des Glaces must have reflected a brilliant galaxy of elegant gentlemen and their still more elegant ladies clad in silks, satins, and laces, all a-sparkle like Christmas trees.
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century (continued)
3. The Twelve Mazarins
For some years after young Louis XIV became King of France the diamond cutters of Paris found themselves struggling against heavy odds. For one thing, many Parisians, instead of patroniziing the home jeweler, turned to Amsterdam, where they could buy the finest stones of Golconda, cut in the latest mode, the rose.
Possibly it was with an eye to stimulating interest in the work of French gem cutters that at this time it was decided to refashion twelve of the thickest diamonds in the royal crown. At any rate, under the direction of Cardinal Mazarin the twelve stones were recut according to a new form specially invented for the occasion. Whether or not the Cardinal himself actually did invent the new cutting is a question, but he is usually credited with having done so.
The twelve stones were named for him—The Twelve Mazarins. All we know of their ultimate fate is that in an inventory of the crown jewels of France, dated 1774, there is one diamond listed as ‘The Tenth Mazarin.’ According to the late E W Streeter, leading English authority on gems that ‘tenth Mazarin’ was a ‘four-cornered brilliant.’
The typical brilliant-cut, however, was not invented until the close of the century.
After the Court of Louis XIV had developed into the most magnificent in Europe, the Paris jewelers were top of the wave. Many of them were quartered in the Louvre. They led the fashion in jewelry and their designs became international through the publication of engraved patterns, ready for copying by goldsmiths at large.
Luxury and more luxury was called for by the dazzling monarch. When the noblemen of France or Spain appeared before his super-royal eyes, Louis demanded that they and their wives should carry upon their persons fortunes equal to ‘the value of lands and forests’ in the form of glittering gems. The great mirrors of the famous Galérie des Glaces must have reflected a brilliant galaxy of elegant gentlemen and their still more elegant ladies clad in silks, satins, and laces, all a-sparkle like Christmas trees.
Jewelers Of The Seventeenth Century (continued)
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