Thursday, March 13, 2008
Once In Golconda
Once in Golconda – A true Drama of Wall Street 1920-1938 by John Brooks is a great book and I see similarities all around, even though the setting is 1920s and 30s Wall Street, the story is familiar + I enjoyed it.
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
4
In the same year as Stevens, namely 1817, there was born in London another great artist, who, though he certainly gained honors and rewards during his lifetime, nevertheless found himself hampered by the circumstances of his time in carrying out the desires of his art. George Frederick Watts was born in London on February 23, 1817, the son of a Welsh father, who encouraged his artistic bent and permitted him to study at the Academy schools and also under the sculptor William Behnes (1795-1864). When he was twenty five Watts entered the competition for the best designs for decorating in fresco the new House of Lords, and won the first prize of £300 with his ‘Caractacus led Captive through the Streets of Rome.’ This was competition in which both Alfred Stevens and Ford Madox Brown were unsuccessful. On the strength of this prize Watts in 1843 went to Italy, where he remained for four years, mostly in Florence, and was befriended by Lord Holland. Returning to England, Watts entered another competition in 1847 for decorating the House of Lords, this time in oils, and again won the first prize of £500 with his ‘Alfred inciting the Saxons to resist the Danes.’ As a result of these successes Watts was employed for the next ten years on mural decorations, painting ‘St George overcoming the Dragon’ for the House of Lords and his allegory of ‘Justice’ for the great hall of Lincoln’s Inn; but though his desire was to continue painting in this style, further opportunities were denied him. He offered to give his time freely in painting decorations for Euston railways station, but the offer was declined, and balked of his intention to create elevating works of art in public buildings, he began that great series of painted allegories with which his name is most closely associated.
Explaining his own ideals Watts once said: ‘My intention has not been so much to paint pictures that charm the eye, as to suggest great thoughts that will appeal to the imagination and the heart, and kindle all that is best and noblest in humanity.’ Successful in his early years and never covetous of great wealth, Watts was able in his middle years to paint exactly as he pleased without thinking of sales and patrons. He painted portraits, but he never painted any person he did not respect and admire, and the noble series of portraits of the great men of his time which he gave to the National Portrait Gallery shows how little, even in portraiture, did Watts paint for money. Similarly, the pick of his allegorical paintings, a cycle of the history of humanity, was kept for years in his own gallery at Little Holland House, till in 1897 he generously presented the collection to the Tate Gallery. Watts was essentially a philosophical artist and he has not inaccurately been described as ‘ a preacher in paint,’ for, in his opinion, it was not enough for an artist to portray noble aspirations, he must also ‘condemn in the most trenchant manner prevalent vices,’ and utter ‘warning in deep tones against lapses from morals and duties.’ All aspects of Watts art may be seen to advantage in the room devoted to his works at the Tate Gallery, where his beautiful ‘Hope’ and his ‘Love and Life’ reveal noble aspirations of humanity, while his unforgettable ‘Mammon’ and ‘The Minotaur’ condemn prevalent vices and warn against lapses from morals.
As a sculptor Watts is represented at the Tate Gallery by his bronze bust of ‘Clytie,’ but his most important work in this medium is his equestrian group ‘Physical Energy,’ originally designed as a monument to Cecil Rhodes and set up over the empire-builder’s grave on the Matoppo Hills, South Africa. A replica of this fine statue has been placed in Kensington Gardens.
The life of Watts was long and full of honors. He was elected A.R.A and R.A in the same year, 1867; twice he was offered and refused a baronetcy, but two years before his death he accepted the Order of Merit. He died in 1904 at the great age of eighty-seven, his last years having been spent chiefly in his country house at Compton, Surrey, where a large permanent collection of his works is still visible to the public.
The Victorian Age (continued)
4
In the same year as Stevens, namely 1817, there was born in London another great artist, who, though he certainly gained honors and rewards during his lifetime, nevertheless found himself hampered by the circumstances of his time in carrying out the desires of his art. George Frederick Watts was born in London on February 23, 1817, the son of a Welsh father, who encouraged his artistic bent and permitted him to study at the Academy schools and also under the sculptor William Behnes (1795-1864). When he was twenty five Watts entered the competition for the best designs for decorating in fresco the new House of Lords, and won the first prize of £300 with his ‘Caractacus led Captive through the Streets of Rome.’ This was competition in which both Alfred Stevens and Ford Madox Brown were unsuccessful. On the strength of this prize Watts in 1843 went to Italy, where he remained for four years, mostly in Florence, and was befriended by Lord Holland. Returning to England, Watts entered another competition in 1847 for decorating the House of Lords, this time in oils, and again won the first prize of £500 with his ‘Alfred inciting the Saxons to resist the Danes.’ As a result of these successes Watts was employed for the next ten years on mural decorations, painting ‘St George overcoming the Dragon’ for the House of Lords and his allegory of ‘Justice’ for the great hall of Lincoln’s Inn; but though his desire was to continue painting in this style, further opportunities were denied him. He offered to give his time freely in painting decorations for Euston railways station, but the offer was declined, and balked of his intention to create elevating works of art in public buildings, he began that great series of painted allegories with which his name is most closely associated.
Explaining his own ideals Watts once said: ‘My intention has not been so much to paint pictures that charm the eye, as to suggest great thoughts that will appeal to the imagination and the heart, and kindle all that is best and noblest in humanity.’ Successful in his early years and never covetous of great wealth, Watts was able in his middle years to paint exactly as he pleased without thinking of sales and patrons. He painted portraits, but he never painted any person he did not respect and admire, and the noble series of portraits of the great men of his time which he gave to the National Portrait Gallery shows how little, even in portraiture, did Watts paint for money. Similarly, the pick of his allegorical paintings, a cycle of the history of humanity, was kept for years in his own gallery at Little Holland House, till in 1897 he generously presented the collection to the Tate Gallery. Watts was essentially a philosophical artist and he has not inaccurately been described as ‘ a preacher in paint,’ for, in his opinion, it was not enough for an artist to portray noble aspirations, he must also ‘condemn in the most trenchant manner prevalent vices,’ and utter ‘warning in deep tones against lapses from morals and duties.’ All aspects of Watts art may be seen to advantage in the room devoted to his works at the Tate Gallery, where his beautiful ‘Hope’ and his ‘Love and Life’ reveal noble aspirations of humanity, while his unforgettable ‘Mammon’ and ‘The Minotaur’ condemn prevalent vices and warn against lapses from morals.
As a sculptor Watts is represented at the Tate Gallery by his bronze bust of ‘Clytie,’ but his most important work in this medium is his equestrian group ‘Physical Energy,’ originally designed as a monument to Cecil Rhodes and set up over the empire-builder’s grave on the Matoppo Hills, South Africa. A replica of this fine statue has been placed in Kensington Gardens.
The life of Watts was long and full of honors. He was elected A.R.A and R.A in the same year, 1867; twice he was offered and refused a baronetcy, but two years before his death he accepted the Order of Merit. He died in 1904 at the great age of eighty-seven, his last years having been spent chiefly in his country house at Compton, Surrey, where a large permanent collection of his works is still visible to the public.
The Victorian Age (continued)
James Andreoni
I found an interesting piece in the NY Times Magazine on What Makes People Give + what really intrigued me is the 'Warm Glow' theory (translation: In the warm-glow view of philanthropy, people aren’t giving money merely to save the whales; they’re also giving money to feel the glow that comes with being the kind of person who’s helping to save the whales.)
I think James Andreoni was spot on. He is right.
Useful link:
http://econ.ucsd.edu/~jandreon
I think James Andreoni was spot on. He is right.
Useful link:
http://econ.ucsd.edu/~jandreon
Random Thoughts
Memory for complex events is basically a reconstructive process. Memory belongs to the imagination. Human memory is not like a computer which records things; it is part of the imaginative process, on the same terms as invention.
- Alain Robbe-Grillet
- Alain Robbe-Grillet
Twin Light
Alfa Mirage's Twin Light (Xenon + LED light) is an interesting light source that enables users to view alexandrite (natural alexandrite= red violet under Xenon light/blue violet under LED light) easily + it's user-friendly (gemological light source + as a penlight for viewing jewelry) and portable.
Useful link:
www.alfamirage.com
Useful link:
www.alfamirage.com
Opal Update
Opals are becoming a popular gemstone in China because its one-of-a-kind gemstone status with the so-called play-of-color, its character + life + a good story + one theory behind the demand for opals could be the diminishing margins in the diamond jewelry business + innovative jewelers are now looking elsewhere to make money + they think with effective consumer education on opal they could work out a sustainable business model in China provided the rough supplies are consistent.
Useful links:
www.opals-australia.com.au
www.opals-australia.com.au
Useful links:
www.opals-australia.com.au
www.opals-australia.com.au
Bienvenue chez les CH'TIS
Bienvenue chez les CH'TIS is a French motion picture comedy starring Kad Merad + Dany Boon + Zoé Félix + I really liked the plot + I think it's a feel-good movie.
Useful link:
www.bienvenuechezleschtis-lefilm.com
Useful link:
www.bienvenuechezleschtis-lefilm.com
Vicenza Fairs
The names of all three of the Vicenza Fair's jewelry exhibition have been changed beginning January 2008 + VicenzaOro Winter, VicenzaOro Spring, VicenzaOro Autumn becomes First (January 13 - 20, 2008), Charm (May 17 - 21, 2008), and Choice (September 6 - 10, 2008) respectively.
Useful link:
www.vicenzafiera.it
Useful link:
www.vicenzafiera.it
World Diamond Congress 2008
The 33rd World Diamond Congress will be held from May 12 - 15 at the Portman Ritz-Carlton in Shanghai, China.
Useful link:
www.worlddiamondcongress2008.com
www.worldfed.com
Useful link:
www.worlddiamondcongress2008.com
www.worldfed.com
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Palladium
Palladium Alliance International provides educational materials for jewelers and consumers on palladium + its environment-friendly.
Useful link:
www.luxurypalladium.com
Useful link:
www.luxurypalladium.com
Society's Breakthrough!
Society's Breakthrough!: Releasing Essential Wisdom and Virtue in All the People by Jim Rough is a fascinating book with useful insights + I was very much interested in the concept of Wisdom Councils at every level of society + he was spot on with historical, philosophical and practical anecdotes + I think the book could transform you to a thoughtful citizen.
Useful link:
www.societysbreakthrough.com
Useful link:
www.societysbreakthrough.com
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
Occasionally he received a commission for a painting, and his noble portrait of Mrs Mary Ann Collmann at the National Gallery, was painted in 1854, the lady being the wife of an architect, Leonard Collmann, who sometimes employed Stevens.
In 1850 Stevens began the chief work of his life with his competition model for the Wellington Monument. Originally he was placed only sixth in the competition and awarded a prize of £100, but fortunately on further consideration the superior merit and appropriateness of his design was perceived and the commission for the monument was definitely given to Stevens. For the remaining seventeen years of his life the artist was at work on this monument, which was all but completed at his death, with the exception of the crowning equestrian statue of the Duke, which, by a strange caprice, was ruled out by the Dean because he did not like the idea of a horse in a church! Eventually this pedantic objection was overruled, and the equestrian statue, carried out from Steven’s model, was placed in position as recently as 1911, so that the whole monument as conceived by Stevens may now be seen in St Pauls. Other memorials of the genius of Stevens in St Paul’s are the four mosaics of Prophets in the spandrels under the dome, which he designed in 1862. The original cartoon for the mosaic of ‘Isaiah’ is now in the Tate Gallery, and nothing equal to it can be found nearer than the Sistine Chapel at Rome. Concurrently with these great masterpieces, Stevens worked at the decoration of Dorchester House, Park Lane, where he completed for Mr Holford two chimney-pieces, a buffet, and other features, and designed a painted ceiling, the whole being a scheme of unequalled splendor in English interior decoration. Worn out by the strain of his monument and his severe battle with life, Alfred Stevens died on May 1, 1875, in the house he had designed and built for himself at 9 Eaton Villas, Haverstock Hill. Apart from the works already mentioned, only a few fragments remain of the art of Alfred Stevens, but while we must always deplore that more opportunities were not given to so great and various an artist, enough exists to prove to all time the measure of his genius.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Occasionally he received a commission for a painting, and his noble portrait of Mrs Mary Ann Collmann at the National Gallery, was painted in 1854, the lady being the wife of an architect, Leonard Collmann, who sometimes employed Stevens.
In 1850 Stevens began the chief work of his life with his competition model for the Wellington Monument. Originally he was placed only sixth in the competition and awarded a prize of £100, but fortunately on further consideration the superior merit and appropriateness of his design was perceived and the commission for the monument was definitely given to Stevens. For the remaining seventeen years of his life the artist was at work on this monument, which was all but completed at his death, with the exception of the crowning equestrian statue of the Duke, which, by a strange caprice, was ruled out by the Dean because he did not like the idea of a horse in a church! Eventually this pedantic objection was overruled, and the equestrian statue, carried out from Steven’s model, was placed in position as recently as 1911, so that the whole monument as conceived by Stevens may now be seen in St Pauls. Other memorials of the genius of Stevens in St Paul’s are the four mosaics of Prophets in the spandrels under the dome, which he designed in 1862. The original cartoon for the mosaic of ‘Isaiah’ is now in the Tate Gallery, and nothing equal to it can be found nearer than the Sistine Chapel at Rome. Concurrently with these great masterpieces, Stevens worked at the decoration of Dorchester House, Park Lane, where he completed for Mr Holford two chimney-pieces, a buffet, and other features, and designed a painted ceiling, the whole being a scheme of unequalled splendor in English interior decoration. Worn out by the strain of his monument and his severe battle with life, Alfred Stevens died on May 1, 1875, in the house he had designed and built for himself at 9 Eaton Villas, Haverstock Hill. Apart from the works already mentioned, only a few fragments remain of the art of Alfred Stevens, but while we must always deplore that more opportunities were not given to so great and various an artist, enough exists to prove to all time the measure of his genius.
The Victorian Age (continued)
The Peruzzi Legend
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
The idea that the Brilliant Cut was invented was based on nothing more than armchair speculation by Caire, who wrote in La Science des Pierres Précieuses (1813): ‘C’est par une suite de recherches sur le diamant brut qui avait de la couleur, qu’on parvint à la taille dit diamant recoupé. Les renseignements que j’ai pu me procurer semblent en attribuer la glorie à Vincent Peruzzi, de Venise, qui vivait vers la fin du dix-septième siècle.’ This very tentative and unsubstantiated statement was at once accepted, and repeated verbatim throughout the nineteenth century even by such respected authoritites as the Dutch diamond cutter and trade union leader, Henri Polak. Squares were well-known and highly prized all through the eighteenth century, but it is possible that they were first produced and marketed commercially around 1690, frequently quoted in the literature as the date when the Brilliant Cut was supposed to have been created.
The term Peruzzi Cut has never been used in the diamond trade itself, but has become so firmly established that there is no point in trying to abolish it. It has come to represent absolute perfection. Wilhelm Maier (1949) was full of admiration for its symmetry. He described the central star formation and the facet edges parallel throughout, and added that the balance of the facet edges is the most perfect ever achieved.
The idea that the Brilliant Cut was invented was based on nothing more than armchair speculation by Caire, who wrote in La Science des Pierres Précieuses (1813): ‘C’est par une suite de recherches sur le diamant brut qui avait de la couleur, qu’on parvint à la taille dit diamant recoupé. Les renseignements que j’ai pu me procurer semblent en attribuer la glorie à Vincent Peruzzi, de Venise, qui vivait vers la fin du dix-septième siècle.’ This very tentative and unsubstantiated statement was at once accepted, and repeated verbatim throughout the nineteenth century even by such respected authoritites as the Dutch diamond cutter and trade union leader, Henri Polak. Squares were well-known and highly prized all through the eighteenth century, but it is possible that they were first produced and marketed commercially around 1690, frequently quoted in the literature as the date when the Brilliant Cut was supposed to have been created.
The term Peruzzi Cut has never been used in the diamond trade itself, but has become so firmly established that there is no point in trying to abolish it. It has come to represent absolute perfection. Wilhelm Maier (1949) was full of admiration for its symmetry. He described the central star formation and the facet edges parallel throughout, and added that the balance of the facet edges is the most perfect ever achieved.
The Making Of Second Life
The Making of Second Life: Notes from the New World by Wagner James Au is a fascinating book on the creators of the concept + I am a big fan of Second Life.
Useful link:
http://nwn.blogs.com
Useful link:
http://nwn.blogs.com
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Art Fair
Carol Vogel writes about the European Fine Art Fair at Maastricht, the Netherlands + dealers and collectors from around the world + other viewpoints @ http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/03/10/arts/10fair.php
Useful links:
www.tefaf.com
www.haunchofvenison.com
www.mfa.org
www.artic.edu
www.artsmia.org
www.toledomuseum.org
www.clarkart.edu
www.lacma.org
www.nelson-atkins.org
www.noortman.com
www.johnnyvanhaeften.com
Useful links:
www.tefaf.com
www.haunchofvenison.com
www.mfa.org
www.artic.edu
www.artsmia.org
www.toledomuseum.org
www.clarkart.edu
www.lacma.org
www.nelson-atkins.org
www.noortman.com
www.johnnyvanhaeften.com
Wellcome Images
I found the Wellcome Image Awards 2008 interesting + the images via Optical Projection Tomography is so beautiful + I hope to see the concept applied in gemology in the near future at an affordable cost.
Useful links:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/gallery/2008/mar/10/medicalresearch.photography?picture=332890990
www.wellcomecollection.org
Useful links:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/gallery/2008/mar/10/medicalresearch.photography?picture=332890990
www.wellcomecollection.org
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
3
Apart from all the other artists of his time stands the lonely figure of Alfred Stevens (1817-75), who, though never fully appreciated by his own contemporaries, is now generally recognized to have been probably the greatest and most complete artist that England ever produced. Stevens was cast in a heroic mould and ought to have lived in a heroic age; painter, sculptor, and architect, he possessed the universality of some giant of the Renaissance; and no other artist of any country has approached more closely in his work to the temper of Michael Angelo. Yet this great Englishman was never recognized or honored by the Royal Academy; throughout his life he had a hard struggle to make a living, and while his Wellington Monument and Prophets for St Paul’s Cathedral prove that he was capable of executing works of the mightiest genius both in painting and in sculpture, for want of more appropriate employment Stevens was condemned to spend a great part of his life in designing stoves, fenders, etc., for commercial firms.
Alfred Stevens was born at Blandford in Dorset in 1817. He was the son of an heraldic painter, whom he assisted from an early age, and while he was still in his teens his rare genius was recognized by some of the better-off residents in the district, who subscribed a purse to enable him to study art in Italy. Thus assisted, Stevens went to Italy in 1833, and stayed there for nearly nine years, studying painting, sculpture, and architecture, chiefly in Florence and Rome. In the latter city he was for two years (1841-2) assistant to the Danish sculptor Thornwaldsen (1770-1844), author of the famous Lion of Lucerne, carved in the solid rock in memory of the Swiss Guards who died in defense of Louis XIV and Marie Antoinette.
When Alfred Stevens returned to England in 1842 he was, according to modern authorities, ‘the most thoroughly educated artist the country has seen,’ but his erudition and genius long failed to find suitable employment. In 1844 he competed, unsuccessfully, for a commission to to execute decoration in Westminster Hall, and in the following year he accepted an appointment as Master of Architectural Drawing, Perspective, Modelling, and Ornamental Painting to a new school of Design at Somerset House. To Stevens, however, teaching was never more than a stopgap; he knew that his real business in life was to create works of art, and consequently as soon as he was given an opportunity to do creative work he resigned his appointment and in 1847 he began to decorate Deysbrook, near Liverpool. For the next few years he managed to make a living by working for other architects; in 1849 and 1854 he worked for Cockerell on St George’s Hall, Liverpool; he designed the bronze doors for Pennethorn’s Geological Museum in Jermyn Street; he designed the lions for the British Museum railings in 1852; but work of this kind was so uncertain that in 1850 he had been glad to accept a position as designer in the firm of Hoole at Sheffield. Thanks to Alfred Stevens, this firm secured first prize for their stoves and fenders in the Great Exhibition of 1851.
The Victorian Age (continued)
3
Apart from all the other artists of his time stands the lonely figure of Alfred Stevens (1817-75), who, though never fully appreciated by his own contemporaries, is now generally recognized to have been probably the greatest and most complete artist that England ever produced. Stevens was cast in a heroic mould and ought to have lived in a heroic age; painter, sculptor, and architect, he possessed the universality of some giant of the Renaissance; and no other artist of any country has approached more closely in his work to the temper of Michael Angelo. Yet this great Englishman was never recognized or honored by the Royal Academy; throughout his life he had a hard struggle to make a living, and while his Wellington Monument and Prophets for St Paul’s Cathedral prove that he was capable of executing works of the mightiest genius both in painting and in sculpture, for want of more appropriate employment Stevens was condemned to spend a great part of his life in designing stoves, fenders, etc., for commercial firms.
Alfred Stevens was born at Blandford in Dorset in 1817. He was the son of an heraldic painter, whom he assisted from an early age, and while he was still in his teens his rare genius was recognized by some of the better-off residents in the district, who subscribed a purse to enable him to study art in Italy. Thus assisted, Stevens went to Italy in 1833, and stayed there for nearly nine years, studying painting, sculpture, and architecture, chiefly in Florence and Rome. In the latter city he was for two years (1841-2) assistant to the Danish sculptor Thornwaldsen (1770-1844), author of the famous Lion of Lucerne, carved in the solid rock in memory of the Swiss Guards who died in defense of Louis XIV and Marie Antoinette.
When Alfred Stevens returned to England in 1842 he was, according to modern authorities, ‘the most thoroughly educated artist the country has seen,’ but his erudition and genius long failed to find suitable employment. In 1844 he competed, unsuccessfully, for a commission to to execute decoration in Westminster Hall, and in the following year he accepted an appointment as Master of Architectural Drawing, Perspective, Modelling, and Ornamental Painting to a new school of Design at Somerset House. To Stevens, however, teaching was never more than a stopgap; he knew that his real business in life was to create works of art, and consequently as soon as he was given an opportunity to do creative work he resigned his appointment and in 1847 he began to decorate Deysbrook, near Liverpool. For the next few years he managed to make a living by working for other architects; in 1849 and 1854 he worked for Cockerell on St George’s Hall, Liverpool; he designed the bronze doors for Pennethorn’s Geological Museum in Jermyn Street; he designed the lions for the British Museum railings in 1852; but work of this kind was so uncertain that in 1850 he had been glad to accept a position as designer in the firm of Hoole at Sheffield. Thanks to Alfred Stevens, this firm secured first prize for their stoves and fenders in the Great Exhibition of 1851.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Blessed Unrest
Blessed Unrest: How the Largest Movement in the World Came into Being and Why No One Saw It Coming by Paul Hawken is a fabulous book on environmental social justice on this planet + I liked it.
Useful link:
www.paulhawken.com
Useful link:
www.paulhawken.com
Square Brilliants
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
The first commercially produced Brilliants were rounded and derived from dodecahedral crystals, or were refashioned from Burgundian Point Cuts or Pointed Star Cuts. They became so popular that craftsmen had to find ways of adapting the design to octahedral rough (of which there was already a far greater supply), and applying the same type of faceting to square outlines without too much loss of weight. The result was the Square Brilliant, a very slightly rounded gem with sharp corners and obvious four-part symmetry in the main facets—a reversion in style from the Baroque to the Renaissance.
The first commercially produced Brilliants were rounded and derived from dodecahedral crystals, or were refashioned from Burgundian Point Cuts or Pointed Star Cuts. They became so popular that craftsmen had to find ways of adapting the design to octahedral rough (of which there was already a far greater supply), and applying the same type of faceting to square outlines without too much loss of weight. The result was the Square Brilliant, a very slightly rounded gem with sharp corners and obvious four-part symmetry in the main facets—a reversion in style from the Baroque to the Renaissance.
Antony Gormley
Antony Gormley is a well-known English sculptor + many of his works are based on moulds taken from his own body, an interesting concept + I think his works are aimed at the general public + it's natural and beautiful. I liked it.
Useful link:
www.antonygormley.com
Useful link:
www.antonygormley.com
Film Festival Online
Babelgum, a new online video site, founded by Italian billionaire, Silvio Scaglia, is interesting because they have got good ideas + technology + money + if they could attract viewers and advertisers + terrific luck, I think with high profile directors like Spike Lee behind the The Babelgum Online Film Festival, Babelgum could provide an interesting business model for the film world.
Useful link:
www.babelgum.com
Useful link:
www.babelgum.com
Chinese Art
Economist writes about the beauty and rarity of the extraordinarily decorative precious ritual vessels used by the Chinese for the ancestral temple + the bidding frenzy by the Chinese art collectors + other viewpoints @ http://www.economist.com/daily/columns/artview/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10831852
Monday, March 10, 2008
Wikinomics
Wikinomics: How Mass Collaboration Changes Everything by Don Tapscott + Anthony D. Williams is an interesting book with a lot insights on mass collaboration + the book made me to rethink + I believe the whole concept is about knowledge management + expect modified versions in a highly competitive and dynamic marketplace.
Useful link:
www.wikinomics.com
Useful link:
www.wikinomics.com
Crystal Vision
Designboom + Swarovski are inviting entries for the international design competition + the subject is: Crystal Vision + they are looking at innovative product concepts for the Swarovski stores.
Useful links:
http://www.designboom.com/crystalvision.html
www.swarovski.com
www.designboom.com
Useful links:
http://www.designboom.com/crystalvision.html
www.swarovski.com
www.designboom.com
Cushion-Shaped Brilliants
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
A cushion-shaped diamond is either square or rectangular, with clearly rounded corners and usually slightly rounded sides. The name, of fairly recent origin, is not ideal since real cushions are often completely round or obsolutely square, but it is far better than the terms Old Mine Cut or Old Miner which were introduced at the end of the last century to describe the kind of cut applied to most Brazilian rough. The fashion for round Brilliants, incidentally, coincided with the discovery of the South African mines.
Many of the Baroque cuts had cushion-shaped outlines, but the shape was less important than the fashioning. Cushion shapes were introduced more and more when the old Table Cuts were refashioned. Many Table Cuts had blunt or missing corners which had to be disposed of without reducing the size of the gem. The easiest way to do this was to round the corners off. The second half of the eighteenth century was a great period for recutting unfashionable designs, and the cutters aimed to achieve a slightly larger display from octahedral rough than would have been possible if the gems had been given sharp corners. From this point on, jewelers used a regular mixture—which appears to have been entirely acceptable—of square and cushion-shaped Brilliants, combined with occasional diamonds of round, pear-shaped or other outlines. Normally the gems were placed according to their shapes in order to accentuate the design of the piece of jewelry, but sometimes—as, for instance, in opulent necklaces made soley of large diamonds—the stones were arranged in order of size irrespective of shape. As long as bruting remained a long and arduous process, nearly all dodecahedrons were fashioned into cushion shapes. We have evidence of this in the writings of several authos: Dutens (1773), for instance, says that ‘de nos jours on prefère la forme dodecaèdre, comme las plus propre à acquerir par le taillage la belle proportion voulue..’
Today, the circular Brilliant Cut is the standard, and other outlines are only applied when the rough particularly favors them. But during the last hundred years a number of large Cushion-shaped Brilliants have been fashioned, including the Tiffany, the Rojtman, the Jubilee, the Assher and the Red Cross.
The Deepdeene Diamond (104.52 ct) was widely discussed in the 1970s when questions were raised about is unusual golden-yellow color. With the Tiffany diamond, there has been exaggerated retention of weight simply in order to have a diamond of over 100 ct, a goal which could not have been achieved if correct proportions had been applied. The drawings show that the diamond had a very large table (c. 64 percent) and very wide crown angles (over 50°), resulting in a high crown. The girdle is too thick (6 percent) for a gem of this size. The pavilion, however, is well proportioned; it follows the rule of 45° angles and has a reflecting culet of about 7 percent. The broad pavilion facets indicate that it was cut in the second half of the nineteenth century.
A cushion-shaped diamond is either square or rectangular, with clearly rounded corners and usually slightly rounded sides. The name, of fairly recent origin, is not ideal since real cushions are often completely round or obsolutely square, but it is far better than the terms Old Mine Cut or Old Miner which were introduced at the end of the last century to describe the kind of cut applied to most Brazilian rough. The fashion for round Brilliants, incidentally, coincided with the discovery of the South African mines.
Many of the Baroque cuts had cushion-shaped outlines, but the shape was less important than the fashioning. Cushion shapes were introduced more and more when the old Table Cuts were refashioned. Many Table Cuts had blunt or missing corners which had to be disposed of without reducing the size of the gem. The easiest way to do this was to round the corners off. The second half of the eighteenth century was a great period for recutting unfashionable designs, and the cutters aimed to achieve a slightly larger display from octahedral rough than would have been possible if the gems had been given sharp corners. From this point on, jewelers used a regular mixture—which appears to have been entirely acceptable—of square and cushion-shaped Brilliants, combined with occasional diamonds of round, pear-shaped or other outlines. Normally the gems were placed according to their shapes in order to accentuate the design of the piece of jewelry, but sometimes—as, for instance, in opulent necklaces made soley of large diamonds—the stones were arranged in order of size irrespective of shape. As long as bruting remained a long and arduous process, nearly all dodecahedrons were fashioned into cushion shapes. We have evidence of this in the writings of several authos: Dutens (1773), for instance, says that ‘de nos jours on prefère la forme dodecaèdre, comme las plus propre à acquerir par le taillage la belle proportion voulue..’
Today, the circular Brilliant Cut is the standard, and other outlines are only applied when the rough particularly favors them. But during the last hundred years a number of large Cushion-shaped Brilliants have been fashioned, including the Tiffany, the Rojtman, the Jubilee, the Assher and the Red Cross.
The Deepdeene Diamond (104.52 ct) was widely discussed in the 1970s when questions were raised about is unusual golden-yellow color. With the Tiffany diamond, there has been exaggerated retention of weight simply in order to have a diamond of over 100 ct, a goal which could not have been achieved if correct proportions had been applied. The drawings show that the diamond had a very large table (c. 64 percent) and very wide crown angles (over 50°), resulting in a high crown. The girdle is too thick (6 percent) for a gem of this size. The pavilion, however, is well proportioned; it follows the rule of 45° angles and has a reflecting culet of about 7 percent. The broad pavilion facets indicate that it was cut in the second half of the nineteenth century.
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
Among a number of scholarly artists who were influenced by the example of Leighton, one of the most distinguished was his eventual successor in the presidency of the Royal Academy, Sir Edward John Poynter (1836-1919). This artist was born in Paris and was the son of an architect, Ambrose Poynter, who was himself a skilful painter in water colors and had been an intimate friend of R.P.Bonington. E.J.Poynter studied art first in the Academy schools and afterwards in Paris, where one of his most intimate friends and fellow-students was the illustrator George du Maurier, author of Trilby. Poynter first exhibited at the Academy in 1861, and during the earlier part of his life he designed a number of decorative works, among them being mosaics for the Houses of Parliament and for St Paul’s Cathedral. He also, like Leighton, executed illustrations—some of which appeared in Once-a-Week—and painted portraits as well as landscapes; but though his activities were many and various, he was best known by his paintings of Greek, Roman, and Egyptian subjects. His first great popular success, and probably the most moving picture he ever conceived, was painted in 1865; ‘Faithful unto Death,’ now in the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, shows a Roman soldier standing unmoved at his post while Pompeii is being destroyed by earthquake and volcanic eruptions, and in this picture the artist not only shows exactitude in archeological detail, but also expresses a nobility of purpose which every human being can understand and admire. In 1867 he painted ‘Israel in Egypt,’ but in later years he seldom approached the high seriousness of these early pictures and though he maintained his popularity with scholarly and agreeable renderings of classical scenes, like ‘A Visit to Æsculapius’ in the Tate Gallery, the subjects of these pictures tended to become lighter and sometimes trivial.
In addition to his work as a painter Sir E J Poynter was overwhelmed by official duties. He was elected A.R.A in 1869 and two years later he was appointed the first Slade Professor at University College, London, a post which he held till 1975, when he became Director of the Royal College of Art at South Kensington, over which he presided for seven years. Meanwhile he had in 1876 been elected R.A and henceforward his influence in the Academy council steadily increased. In 1894 he was appointed Director of the National Gallery, London, and he held this post till 1905, although in 1896 he had been appointed President of the Royal Academy, in succession to Millais. He was knighted in 1896 and made a baronet in 1902.
The wealth of Victorian England not only fostered native art, but naturally drew to these shores a number of foreign artists. Among them was one of the most famous of our modern classical painters, Sir Lawrence Alma -Tadema. This artist was born in Holland in 1836, and after studying art in Antwerp gave his attention to historical painting. He began with early French and Egyptian subjects, but commenced his series of Greek subjects about 1865. In 1869 he sent his painting ‘The Pyrrhic Dance’ to the Academy in London, where it was so well received that the painter decided to settle in England and became naturalized in 1873.
In the hands of Alma-Tadema the classical picture became historical in detail but playful and fanciful in subject. The Victorian anecdote reappeared in a Greek or Roman dress, as in his picture ‘A Silent Greeting’ at the Tate Gallery, in which a Roman warrior places a bunch of roses in the lap of a sleeping lady. ‘Love in Idleness’ is a characteristic example of his art and shows the wonderfully painted marble accessories which he was so fond of introducing into his pictures. Though full himself of antiquarian knowledge, and often called upon by Irving and other theatrical producers to assist in giving verisimilitude to the costumes and scenery for historical plays, Alma-Tadema never wearied the public with his learning, and his pictures were in the nature of agreeable dreams which made no serious demands upon the intellect or high emotions of the spectator. In the course of a long and successful career Alma-Tadema was elected A.R.A in 1876, R.A in 1879, knighted in 1899, and received the Order of Merit in 1905. He died while staying at Wiesbaden in 1912.
While all these artists enjoyed fame and fortune in their lifetime, other artists of equal or superior gifts were less appreciated by their contemporaries, though in several cases their fame is higher today than than of the popular favorites of their day. If we number Albert Moore (1841-93) among the Victorian classical painters, we must be careful to draw a distinction between his art and that of Leighton, Poynter, and Alma-Tadema. For, whereas these three artists emphasized the illustrative element in painting, Albert Moore laid more stress on its decorative element. Moore was not anecdotal, and for this reason his decorative compositions did not make so easy and obvious an appeal to his contemporaries; but he was filled with the Greek spirit of beauty, and his painting ‘Blossoms’ is now one of the most admired of the quasi-classical pictures in the Tate Gallery. Moore was born at York and was the son of an artist, but though he was trained in the Academy schools and began to exhibit at the Academy in the sixties, he was not well received there, and subsequently exhibited chiefly at the Grosvenor Gallery and the Old Water Color Society. He was never elected a member of the Academy, but associated with the Whistler and other independent artists. An admirable draughtsman and designer, Albert Moore was also gifted with a refined and delicate sense of color equalled by few of his contemporaries.
His brother Henry Moore (1831-95), an excellent marine painter, received more official recognition; he was elected A.R.A in 1886, R.A in 1893, and in 1885 his ‘Catspaws of the Land,’ in the Tate Gallery, was bought for the nation.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Among a number of scholarly artists who were influenced by the example of Leighton, one of the most distinguished was his eventual successor in the presidency of the Royal Academy, Sir Edward John Poynter (1836-1919). This artist was born in Paris and was the son of an architect, Ambrose Poynter, who was himself a skilful painter in water colors and had been an intimate friend of R.P.Bonington. E.J.Poynter studied art first in the Academy schools and afterwards in Paris, where one of his most intimate friends and fellow-students was the illustrator George du Maurier, author of Trilby. Poynter first exhibited at the Academy in 1861, and during the earlier part of his life he designed a number of decorative works, among them being mosaics for the Houses of Parliament and for St Paul’s Cathedral. He also, like Leighton, executed illustrations—some of which appeared in Once-a-Week—and painted portraits as well as landscapes; but though his activities were many and various, he was best known by his paintings of Greek, Roman, and Egyptian subjects. His first great popular success, and probably the most moving picture he ever conceived, was painted in 1865; ‘Faithful unto Death,’ now in the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, shows a Roman soldier standing unmoved at his post while Pompeii is being destroyed by earthquake and volcanic eruptions, and in this picture the artist not only shows exactitude in archeological detail, but also expresses a nobility of purpose which every human being can understand and admire. In 1867 he painted ‘Israel in Egypt,’ but in later years he seldom approached the high seriousness of these early pictures and though he maintained his popularity with scholarly and agreeable renderings of classical scenes, like ‘A Visit to Æsculapius’ in the Tate Gallery, the subjects of these pictures tended to become lighter and sometimes trivial.
In addition to his work as a painter Sir E J Poynter was overwhelmed by official duties. He was elected A.R.A in 1869 and two years later he was appointed the first Slade Professor at University College, London, a post which he held till 1975, when he became Director of the Royal College of Art at South Kensington, over which he presided for seven years. Meanwhile he had in 1876 been elected R.A and henceforward his influence in the Academy council steadily increased. In 1894 he was appointed Director of the National Gallery, London, and he held this post till 1905, although in 1896 he had been appointed President of the Royal Academy, in succession to Millais. He was knighted in 1896 and made a baronet in 1902.
The wealth of Victorian England not only fostered native art, but naturally drew to these shores a number of foreign artists. Among them was one of the most famous of our modern classical painters, Sir Lawrence Alma -Tadema. This artist was born in Holland in 1836, and after studying art in Antwerp gave his attention to historical painting. He began with early French and Egyptian subjects, but commenced his series of Greek subjects about 1865. In 1869 he sent his painting ‘The Pyrrhic Dance’ to the Academy in London, where it was so well received that the painter decided to settle in England and became naturalized in 1873.
In the hands of Alma-Tadema the classical picture became historical in detail but playful and fanciful in subject. The Victorian anecdote reappeared in a Greek or Roman dress, as in his picture ‘A Silent Greeting’ at the Tate Gallery, in which a Roman warrior places a bunch of roses in the lap of a sleeping lady. ‘Love in Idleness’ is a characteristic example of his art and shows the wonderfully painted marble accessories which he was so fond of introducing into his pictures. Though full himself of antiquarian knowledge, and often called upon by Irving and other theatrical producers to assist in giving verisimilitude to the costumes and scenery for historical plays, Alma-Tadema never wearied the public with his learning, and his pictures were in the nature of agreeable dreams which made no serious demands upon the intellect or high emotions of the spectator. In the course of a long and successful career Alma-Tadema was elected A.R.A in 1876, R.A in 1879, knighted in 1899, and received the Order of Merit in 1905. He died while staying at Wiesbaden in 1912.
While all these artists enjoyed fame and fortune in their lifetime, other artists of equal or superior gifts were less appreciated by their contemporaries, though in several cases their fame is higher today than than of the popular favorites of their day. If we number Albert Moore (1841-93) among the Victorian classical painters, we must be careful to draw a distinction between his art and that of Leighton, Poynter, and Alma-Tadema. For, whereas these three artists emphasized the illustrative element in painting, Albert Moore laid more stress on its decorative element. Moore was not anecdotal, and for this reason his decorative compositions did not make so easy and obvious an appeal to his contemporaries; but he was filled with the Greek spirit of beauty, and his painting ‘Blossoms’ is now one of the most admired of the quasi-classical pictures in the Tate Gallery. Moore was born at York and was the son of an artist, but though he was trained in the Academy schools and began to exhibit at the Academy in the sixties, he was not well received there, and subsequently exhibited chiefly at the Grosvenor Gallery and the Old Water Color Society. He was never elected a member of the Academy, but associated with the Whistler and other independent artists. An admirable draughtsman and designer, Albert Moore was also gifted with a refined and delicate sense of color equalled by few of his contemporaries.
His brother Henry Moore (1831-95), an excellent marine painter, received more official recognition; he was elected A.R.A in 1886, R.A in 1893, and in 1885 his ‘Catspaws of the Land,’ in the Tate Gallery, was bought for the nation.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Travel Movie
(via budgettravel) Neil Mandt's movie LastStopForPaul.com highlights interesting experiences in different parts of the world + he has some useful advice for new filmmakers.
Useful links:
www.laststopforpaul.com
www.puredigitalinc.com
www.mysmallwonder.com
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119292
Useful links:
www.laststopforpaul.com
www.puredigitalinc.com
www.mysmallwonder.com
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119292
Vantage Point
Vantage Point is a thriller + the movie is about identities + how we become obssessively analytical, get misled and become autistic + a unique jigsaw puzzle + it's a great movie.
Useful links:
http://imdb.com/title/tt0443274
www.vantagepoint-movie.com
Useful links:
http://imdb.com/title/tt0443274
www.vantagepoint-movie.com
Random Thoughts
US investment genius Warren Buffett, nicknamed the 'Sage of Omaha', now the world's richest person with a hefty US$62 billion, lives in the same house he bought in 1958 for $31,500, married his long-term partner with a wedding ring from a discount store and likes to dine in his local steak house. He is a man of simple tastes and frugal habits.
I really admire him + he is my near-flawless role model.
I really admire him + he is my near-flawless role model.
Keith Haring
Keith Haring was an artist + social activist + I think museums and collectors were slow to grasp the significance of his achievements.
Useful links:
www.haring.com
www.haringkids.com
Useful links:
www.haring.com
www.haringkids.com
The Wealth Of Networks
The Wealth of Networks: How Social Production Transforms Markets and Freedom by Yochai Benkler is a book that provides insight to understanding online networks + the impact + the radical changes yet to come + it's a good read.
Useful link:
www.benkler.org
Useful link:
www.benkler.org
Round Brilliants
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
From the time the Brilliant Cut was introduced, round Brilliants have been fashioned, but never—at least until recently—in any quantity. The tedious process of manual bruting and the loss of weight and size made them economical. Perfect circular outlines were extremely rare, even though they appear in the illustrations of Jeffries, Caire and a great many others who have obviously symmetrized their line drawings. In fact, the only type of crystal that can be easily rounded is the extremely rare regular dodecaheron.
No historical analysis of the round Brilliant Cut has ever been published and very little documentation is available. One might expect to find some interesting highlights in Mawe’s Treatise on Diamond (first published in 1813), but this contains more contradictions than information on styles of fashioning.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries circular brilliants were considered Fancy Cuts and classified with Drop Shapes, Marquises, Hearts and so on. The standard outlines then in fashion were so strongly dominant that contemporary authors concentrated almost exclusively on them. Jeffries, for instance, in his Treatise of 1750, stated that the square Brilliant (derived from octahedral rough) was the standard, and describes only one circular, one oval and one drop-shaped Brilliant. He gives no examples of stones with any other outline, not even a cushion shape.
As late as 1858 the French writer, Barbot, disapproved of the circular outline because he claimed that stones of this shape display less attractive brilliance: ‘Le brilliant est généralmement carré arrondi. Nous avons cependant vu de très beaux brilliants, taillés nouvellement, entièrement ronds, mais cette forme, quoique jouer le diamant, lui donne un miroirement moins préférable, á notre sens, que la gravité sevère de la forme carrée arrondie.’
Many of the small Brilliants used in minor Victorian jewels have survived whereas the larger and finer gems were, for the most part, recut into modern round brilliants and transferred to new settings. With diamonds weighing ½ ct or more the cost of labor was negligible. The London Cut was easily recognizable and much in demand, so the English cutters concentrated on refashioning the larger stones, reshaping the square and cushion-shaped gems and replacing the old fourfold symmetry with something closer to eightfold in an attempt to reduce the leakage of light through the pavilion facets.
Small circular diamonds were needed to complement these large circular stones, and here the less strict Amsterdam cutters came into their own. They paid their workmen low wages and were soon able to flood the market with not very well made, but far cheaper, stones. By the middle of the nineteenth century the English master cutters were no longer able to compete with the large cutting centers on the Continent, but by then the circular Brilliant was well established in Europe and few decades later was introduced by Morse into the United States.
From the time the Brilliant Cut was introduced, round Brilliants have been fashioned, but never—at least until recently—in any quantity. The tedious process of manual bruting and the loss of weight and size made them economical. Perfect circular outlines were extremely rare, even though they appear in the illustrations of Jeffries, Caire and a great many others who have obviously symmetrized their line drawings. In fact, the only type of crystal that can be easily rounded is the extremely rare regular dodecaheron.
No historical analysis of the round Brilliant Cut has ever been published and very little documentation is available. One might expect to find some interesting highlights in Mawe’s Treatise on Diamond (first published in 1813), but this contains more contradictions than information on styles of fashioning.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries circular brilliants were considered Fancy Cuts and classified with Drop Shapes, Marquises, Hearts and so on. The standard outlines then in fashion were so strongly dominant that contemporary authors concentrated almost exclusively on them. Jeffries, for instance, in his Treatise of 1750, stated that the square Brilliant (derived from octahedral rough) was the standard, and describes only one circular, one oval and one drop-shaped Brilliant. He gives no examples of stones with any other outline, not even a cushion shape.
As late as 1858 the French writer, Barbot, disapproved of the circular outline because he claimed that stones of this shape display less attractive brilliance: ‘Le brilliant est généralmement carré arrondi. Nous avons cependant vu de très beaux brilliants, taillés nouvellement, entièrement ronds, mais cette forme, quoique jouer le diamant, lui donne un miroirement moins préférable, á notre sens, que la gravité sevère de la forme carrée arrondie.’
Many of the small Brilliants used in minor Victorian jewels have survived whereas the larger and finer gems were, for the most part, recut into modern round brilliants and transferred to new settings. With diamonds weighing ½ ct or more the cost of labor was negligible. The London Cut was easily recognizable and much in demand, so the English cutters concentrated on refashioning the larger stones, reshaping the square and cushion-shaped gems and replacing the old fourfold symmetry with something closer to eightfold in an attempt to reduce the leakage of light through the pavilion facets.
Small circular diamonds were needed to complement these large circular stones, and here the less strict Amsterdam cutters came into their own. They paid their workmen low wages and were soon able to flood the market with not very well made, but far cheaper, stones. By the middle of the nineteenth century the English master cutters were no longer able to compete with the large cutting centers on the Continent, but by then the circular Brilliant was well established in Europe and few decades later was introduced by Morse into the United States.
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
2
Victorian painting was essentially a story-telling art, but the stories were not limited to one country or to one century. The classical revival, the delight in pictures representing the life of ancient Greece and Rome, which marked, as we have seen, the art of France during the Revolutionary Period, did not show itself in England till nearly half a century later. The man who introduced this style of picture into England was Frederick Leighton, who, though born at Scarborough in 1830, spent the greater part of his early life abroad. Leighton was the son of a physician and spent his boyhood in Italy. When he was only ten years old he studied drawing at Rome, and afterwards lived in Florence where he was taught by several Italian artists. When he was eighteen he visited Brussels, and in the following year he continued his art studies in Paris, where he attended a life-school and copied pictures by Titian and Correggio in Louvre. In 1850 he went to Germany, visiting Dresden and Berlin, but staying longest at Frankfurt, where he worked for two years under a painter named Steinle, and was to some extent influenced by the painters Cornelius and Overbeck, who were mentioned in the last chapter. From Germany, he returned to Paris, where he had a studio in the Rue Pigalle. At this time he was much enamored of the earliest Italian artists, and his first oil painting, executed at Frankfurt, represented ‘Giotto found by Cimabue among the Sheep.’ It was from Paris that Leighton sent to the Academy of 1855 his picture of ‘Cimabue’s Madonna carried in Procession through the Streets of Florence.’ This picture, with its precise drawing, elaborate design, and fresh, clear color, created a tremendous sensation in London, and when it was bought by Queen Victoria the reputation of the painter was immediately made. It was not till five years later, however, that Leighton left Paris and settled in London.
Leighton was now thirty years old, and he was an accomplished, much-traveled man of the world. He had charming, courtly manners, and his prestige in the arts was equalled by his social success. He executed a number of illustrations for the Brothers Dalziel, but he had no lack of other patrons, and received numerous commissions for decorative paintings and subject pictures. He gave himself largely to the illustration of Greek history and legend, two of his most famous pictures in this style being ‘Daphnephoria’ and ‘The Return of Perspective,’ now in the Leeds Art Gallery. He was generally considered to have recaptured the spirit of Greek art better than any artist since Raphael, and ‘The Bath of Psyche’ is a famous example of the almost waxen perfection of his figures, and of his manner of idealizing the nude.
The graceful sense of form noticeable in his paintings was also displayed in Leighton’s works of sculpture, of which the best known are ‘The Sluggard’ and ‘Athlete with Python,’ both in the Tate Gallery. From the moment he set foot in England, Leighton’s career was a series of unbroken successes. He was elected A.R.A in 1864, R.A in 1868, and ten years later, after the death of Sir Francis Grant in 1878, he was elected President of the Royal Academy and received a knighthood. He was created a baronet in 1886, and on January 1, 1896, a few months before his death, he was made Baron Leighton of Stretton, being the first British painter elevated to the peerage.
Leighton never married. He built himself a handsome house, with an Arab Hall, from his own design, at No.2 Holland Park Road, and his home, now known as Leighton House, is preserved as a memorial of his art.
Looking backward, we may surmise that the wide popularity enjoyed by Leighton and his followers was not altogether unrelated to the revival of interest in antiquity and archeology which, beginning in the reign of Queen Victoria, has continued undiminished to this day. At a time when the mind of the public was roused by reports in the newspapers of the discoveries made by excavators in Greece, Egypt, and elsewhere, it not surprising that visitors to the Academy should have made favorites of those pictures which sought to portray life as it was in Greece or Egypt in the olden days.
The Victorian Age (continued)
2
Victorian painting was essentially a story-telling art, but the stories were not limited to one country or to one century. The classical revival, the delight in pictures representing the life of ancient Greece and Rome, which marked, as we have seen, the art of France during the Revolutionary Period, did not show itself in England till nearly half a century later. The man who introduced this style of picture into England was Frederick Leighton, who, though born at Scarborough in 1830, spent the greater part of his early life abroad. Leighton was the son of a physician and spent his boyhood in Italy. When he was only ten years old he studied drawing at Rome, and afterwards lived in Florence where he was taught by several Italian artists. When he was eighteen he visited Brussels, and in the following year he continued his art studies in Paris, where he attended a life-school and copied pictures by Titian and Correggio in Louvre. In 1850 he went to Germany, visiting Dresden and Berlin, but staying longest at Frankfurt, where he worked for two years under a painter named Steinle, and was to some extent influenced by the painters Cornelius and Overbeck, who were mentioned in the last chapter. From Germany, he returned to Paris, where he had a studio in the Rue Pigalle. At this time he was much enamored of the earliest Italian artists, and his first oil painting, executed at Frankfurt, represented ‘Giotto found by Cimabue among the Sheep.’ It was from Paris that Leighton sent to the Academy of 1855 his picture of ‘Cimabue’s Madonna carried in Procession through the Streets of Florence.’ This picture, with its precise drawing, elaborate design, and fresh, clear color, created a tremendous sensation in London, and when it was bought by Queen Victoria the reputation of the painter was immediately made. It was not till five years later, however, that Leighton left Paris and settled in London.
Leighton was now thirty years old, and he was an accomplished, much-traveled man of the world. He had charming, courtly manners, and his prestige in the arts was equalled by his social success. He executed a number of illustrations for the Brothers Dalziel, but he had no lack of other patrons, and received numerous commissions for decorative paintings and subject pictures. He gave himself largely to the illustration of Greek history and legend, two of his most famous pictures in this style being ‘Daphnephoria’ and ‘The Return of Perspective,’ now in the Leeds Art Gallery. He was generally considered to have recaptured the spirit of Greek art better than any artist since Raphael, and ‘The Bath of Psyche’ is a famous example of the almost waxen perfection of his figures, and of his manner of idealizing the nude.
The graceful sense of form noticeable in his paintings was also displayed in Leighton’s works of sculpture, of which the best known are ‘The Sluggard’ and ‘Athlete with Python,’ both in the Tate Gallery. From the moment he set foot in England, Leighton’s career was a series of unbroken successes. He was elected A.R.A in 1864, R.A in 1868, and ten years later, after the death of Sir Francis Grant in 1878, he was elected President of the Royal Academy and received a knighthood. He was created a baronet in 1886, and on January 1, 1896, a few months before his death, he was made Baron Leighton of Stretton, being the first British painter elevated to the peerage.
Leighton never married. He built himself a handsome house, with an Arab Hall, from his own design, at No.2 Holland Park Road, and his home, now known as Leighton House, is preserved as a memorial of his art.
Looking backward, we may surmise that the wide popularity enjoyed by Leighton and his followers was not altogether unrelated to the revival of interest in antiquity and archeology which, beginning in the reign of Queen Victoria, has continued undiminished to this day. At a time when the mind of the public was roused by reports in the newspapers of the discoveries made by excavators in Greece, Egypt, and elsewhere, it not surprising that visitors to the Academy should have made favorites of those pictures which sought to portray life as it was in Greece or Egypt in the olden days.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Heard On The Street
In the market all things are valued according to their scarcity + what is worth little today is worth much tomorrow.
The Bank Job
Roger Donaldson is an Australian-born New Zealand film producer, director and writer who has made numerous successful movies + his movie The Bank Job is a true story of a heist gone wrong.
Useful links:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0200465
http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1720472,00.html
Useful links:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0200465
http://www.time.com/time/arts/article/0,8599,1720472,00.html
Collective Unconscious
I really liked Sheila Heti 's concept of candidate-related dreams @ http://idreamofhillaryidreamofbarack.com + I think it's a kind of communication. Brilliant!
Climos
I am really keen on environment + new ways of sourcing energy + I found the idea by Climos to grow large amounts of plankton by pouring iron into the ocean, interesting + I hope there are no unintended consequences from this type of geo-engineering.
Useful links:
www.climos.com
www.etcgroup.org
www.oceannourishment.com
www.planktos.com
Useful links:
www.climos.com
www.etcgroup.org
www.oceannourishment.com
www.planktos.com
The Charles Gillot's Collection
I was intrigued by The Charles Gillot's Collection of Japanese and Egyptian art because of its unique history + color + patterns + story + beauty and rarity, and I hope it remains with the right collector for a long time.
Useful links:
http://www.christies.com/special_sites/gillot_paris/highlights.asp
http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/03/07/arts/melik8.php
Useful links:
http://www.christies.com/special_sites/gillot_paris/highlights.asp
http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/03/07/arts/melik8.php
GIA Certifigate: Phase Two
Total internal reflections of Chaim Even Zohar at the Plumb Club Forum in New York + the issues related to the GIA Certifigate scandal + other viewpoints @ http://www.idexonline.com/portal_FullEditorial.asp
I can visualize myself as a consumer in bad times. I want to sell some of my diamonds in order to improve my households’ cash flow, only to find out that their grading reports had overstated reality, and that the color grade was lower, or that the natural stone was really treated. Who would be liable? Who would pay? What would the salesperson tell me? Not a pretty picture!
I think Chaim Even Zohar was spot on and may he live forever to write more about the real diamond world + the characters!
I can visualize myself as a consumer in bad times. I want to sell some of my diamonds in order to improve my households’ cash flow, only to find out that their grading reports had overstated reality, and that the color grade was lower, or that the natural stone was really treated. Who would be liable? Who would pay? What would the salesperson tell me? Not a pretty picture!
I think Chaim Even Zohar was spot on and may he live forever to write more about the real diamond world + the characters!
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised : Democracy, the Internet, and the Overthrow of Everything by Joe Trippi is a great read + it gave me the insight into how new media/technology/open source works + the impact.
Useful link:
www.joetrippi.com
Useful link:
www.joetrippi.com
Early Parisian Cut Brilliants
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
Bernard Morel suggests that French master cutters of the mid-seventeenth century invented certain types of fancy cut Brilliants. I have examined several unusual diamonds fashioned in Paris, such as the French Blue, the de Guise and the Hortensia, with both symmetry and faceting deviating from the standard Baroque forms, but I have found no details which had not been applied to diamonds before, except possibly for the Sancy Cuts, which may have been a French innovation. The Grand Sancy may have been the first of its kind and was, according to Cletscher, fashioned in Paris. The Sancy Cut appears further to have been a kind of Pre-Brilliant. If we knew that the Wittelsbach was also fashioned in Paris, I might be tempted to agree with Morel. But was apparently cut in Lisbon, or possibly Venice, so one cannot say with certainity that all Brilliants of this type originated from Paris.
The Paris cutters were above all specialists at refashioning Louis XIV’s primitively cut Indian diamonds, the gems delivered to him by Tavernier, Bazu and other travelers to thte Far East. They also modernized numerous obsolete cuts. Obviously, many of these had to be fashioned according the shapes they had been given rather than those which the natural rough favored. And each gem presented a different problem, demanding a solution particular to itself. One of the greatest problems was how to refashion a shallow pavilion with a very large culet. This they overcame by applying almost horizontal culet facets, which presumably explains why so many of the refashioned French gems were Stellar Cut. This technique was not new either; it was illustrated on seventeenth-century Table Cuts, for example, in a drawing by Cletscher.
The reason for the existence of both sixfold and sevenfold symmetry and for the numerous fancy outlines also lies in the original gems. When they were refashioning old Table Cuts, cutters naturally got rid of broken or missing corners and disturbing flaws. Their main task was to transform, with a minimum of waste, old cuts into gems with maximum light effects, with no necessity to adhere to a ‘standard design’. In most cases a close examination reveals the original cut of the stone, but nevertheless the results of recutting are, for the most part, extremely beautiful and the craftsmanship masterly. According to a law drawn up in 1584, French cutters were not allowed to install more than two grinding mills; in 1625 they were given permission to have three. Clearly, there was no organised importing of rough on a large scale, but there was great competition among the small establishments, which resulting in work of a very high standard.
The description of the Peach Blossom diamond (Fleur de Pêcher) in the 1691 French Crown inventory is interesting: ‘Un autre crochet de chapeau d’un seul diamant, brilliant, plus étroit d’un bout que de l’autre, de belle eau, pezant 25ks, estimé quarante-trois mille huict cent soixante-six livres, cy 43.866 liv.’ It tells us first of all that no term had yet been introduced for modified Brilliant Cuts—the outline of the diamond is described simply as being narrower at one end. And the accuracy of the estimate indicates the price Louis XIV must have paid for it, probably in about 1678 to Alvarez. In 1791, exactly a hundred years later, the same stone was described as: ‘un grand diamant fort étendu, forme en poire, tirant sur la fleur-de-pêcher, pesant vingt-quatre karats, treize seize et un trente-deuxieme, estimé deux cents mille liveres, ci 24 k. 13/16 1/32 (i.e. 24 27/32 old French carats).'
The name given to the gem was taken from its color, a pale pink, the color of peach blossom. When it was finally disposed of by the French government at the great sale of 1887 and acquired by Tiffany, it was mistakenly described as one of the Mazarins (‘Un brilliant rosé, formé poiré). The Peach Blossom is, in fact, a Baroque Brilliant, and is not so much pear-shaped as trapezoid with rounded corners. Its faceting is of the standard eightfold type, and it shows pronounced spread compared with what Jeffries considered a correctly proportioned diamond. The spreading may have been deliberate, to enhance the color effect, and it is interesting to compare its proportions with those of the Dresden Green and other colored diamonds.
Bernard Morel suggests that French master cutters of the mid-seventeenth century invented certain types of fancy cut Brilliants. I have examined several unusual diamonds fashioned in Paris, such as the French Blue, the de Guise and the Hortensia, with both symmetry and faceting deviating from the standard Baroque forms, but I have found no details which had not been applied to diamonds before, except possibly for the Sancy Cuts, which may have been a French innovation. The Grand Sancy may have been the first of its kind and was, according to Cletscher, fashioned in Paris. The Sancy Cut appears further to have been a kind of Pre-Brilliant. If we knew that the Wittelsbach was also fashioned in Paris, I might be tempted to agree with Morel. But was apparently cut in Lisbon, or possibly Venice, so one cannot say with certainity that all Brilliants of this type originated from Paris.
The Paris cutters were above all specialists at refashioning Louis XIV’s primitively cut Indian diamonds, the gems delivered to him by Tavernier, Bazu and other travelers to thte Far East. They also modernized numerous obsolete cuts. Obviously, many of these had to be fashioned according the shapes they had been given rather than those which the natural rough favored. And each gem presented a different problem, demanding a solution particular to itself. One of the greatest problems was how to refashion a shallow pavilion with a very large culet. This they overcame by applying almost horizontal culet facets, which presumably explains why so many of the refashioned French gems were Stellar Cut. This technique was not new either; it was illustrated on seventeenth-century Table Cuts, for example, in a drawing by Cletscher.
The reason for the existence of both sixfold and sevenfold symmetry and for the numerous fancy outlines also lies in the original gems. When they were refashioning old Table Cuts, cutters naturally got rid of broken or missing corners and disturbing flaws. Their main task was to transform, with a minimum of waste, old cuts into gems with maximum light effects, with no necessity to adhere to a ‘standard design’. In most cases a close examination reveals the original cut of the stone, but nevertheless the results of recutting are, for the most part, extremely beautiful and the craftsmanship masterly. According to a law drawn up in 1584, French cutters were not allowed to install more than two grinding mills; in 1625 they were given permission to have three. Clearly, there was no organised importing of rough on a large scale, but there was great competition among the small establishments, which resulting in work of a very high standard.
The description of the Peach Blossom diamond (Fleur de Pêcher) in the 1691 French Crown inventory is interesting: ‘Un autre crochet de chapeau d’un seul diamant, brilliant, plus étroit d’un bout que de l’autre, de belle eau, pezant 25ks, estimé quarante-trois mille huict cent soixante-six livres, cy 43.866 liv.’ It tells us first of all that no term had yet been introduced for modified Brilliant Cuts—the outline of the diamond is described simply as being narrower at one end. And the accuracy of the estimate indicates the price Louis XIV must have paid for it, probably in about 1678 to Alvarez. In 1791, exactly a hundred years later, the same stone was described as: ‘un grand diamant fort étendu, forme en poire, tirant sur la fleur-de-pêcher, pesant vingt-quatre karats, treize seize et un trente-deuxieme, estimé deux cents mille liveres, ci 24 k. 13/16 1/32 (i.e. 24 27/32 old French carats).'
The name given to the gem was taken from its color, a pale pink, the color of peach blossom. When it was finally disposed of by the French government at the great sale of 1887 and acquired by Tiffany, it was mistakenly described as one of the Mazarins (‘Un brilliant rosé, formé poiré). The Peach Blossom is, in fact, a Baroque Brilliant, and is not so much pear-shaped as trapezoid with rounded corners. Its faceting is of the standard eightfold type, and it shows pronounced spread compared with what Jeffries considered a correctly proportioned diamond. The spreading may have been deliberate, to enhance the color effect, and it is interesting to compare its proportions with those of the Dresden Green and other colored diamonds.
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
Up to about 1820 his subjects had chiefly been dogs and horses, but he soon added other animals to his repertory. Among his father’s friends was the historical painter Benjamin Robert Haydon (1786-1846), and on the advice of this artist Landseer, while still an Academy student, learnt to dissect and make anatomical studies of animals. Taking advantage of the death of a lion in one of the menageries, he diligently studied its anatomy, and the knowledge thus gained gave him a power in the drawing of that animal notable in his future works. The first fruits of these studies were his future works. The first fruits of these studies were his pictures ‘A Prowling Lion’ in the Academy of 1821 and ‘A Lion Disturbed’ in the following year. In 1824 he exhibited ‘The Cat’s Paw’, a picture of a monkey seizing a cat’s paw to take roasting chestnuts from a fire, this being one of the first of his animal paintings in which an obvious moral was happily combined with humor.
In this year, when Landseer was twenty two, he accompanied his friend and fellow-student C R Leslie (1794-1859) on a visit to Scotland, where the two young artists had the honor of staying with Sir Walter Scott at Abbotsford. Landseer drew the dogs of the author of Waverley, and was introduced by the novelist to the deer forests of Scotland. Henceforward the ‘monarch of the glen’ became one of Landseer’s favorite subjects, and deer-stalking was the sport which he loved beyond all others; but it is said that the sportsman was often vanquished by the artist, and that when a particularly noble animal came in sight, Landseer was apt to fling down his rifle and pick up instead his sketch-book and pencil.
In 1826 he was elected A.R.A and his prosperity being now assured he left his father’s house and established himself at 1 St John’s Wood Road, where he lived unmarried till the day of his death. Landseer now widened the field of his art, and painted pictures of various subjects, among them being several portraits. One of the most successful of the last was ‘Lord Cosmo Russell,’ a picture of a little boy on a rough pony scampering over the heather; but while he never lacked patrons even for portraiture, his fame and popularity depended chiefly on his animal pictures, and particularly on his paintings of dogs. A witty canon of St Paul’s who was advised to have his portrait painted by Landseer, laughingly declined with the remark, ‘Is they servant a dog that he should do this thing?’
In 1834 he exhibited at the Royal Academy ‘Bolton Abbey in the Older Time,’ one of the best known and most popular of all his works, which has been made familiar throughout Great Britain not only by engravings but also by innumerable copies in needlework. In 1837 he increased his already great reputation by his pictures of a faithful dog watching beside a coffin, entitled ‘The Old Shepherd’s Chief Mourner,’ a work of intense pathos, and in the following year he painted a noble Newfoundland dog as ‘A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society.’ No painter ever surpassed Landseer in rendering all the varied aspects of canine character, and while in some of his pictures he attained a sublimity of pathos so that some captions critics accused him of making his dogs ‘too human,’ in others he showed a subtle humor which is irresistible. Probably no English picture has ever enjoyed a wider popularity than ‘Dignity and Impudence’, in which Landseer amusingly contrasts an old bloodhound of the Duke of Grafton breed with a little Scotch terrier called ‘Scratch.’ Landseer loved dogs and kept a troop of them in his home at St John’s Wood.
From 1839 onwards the artist enjoyed a considerable intimacy with the Royal Family. He taught both Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort to etch and painted many pictures for them, one of his largest being ‘The Drive, Shooting Deer on the Pass.’ He had been elected R.A in 1831 and in 1850 he was knighted. He was a sculptor as well as a painter, and in 1859 he was commissioned to execute the lions for the base of Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square. On this work the artist was engaged, off and on, for some half a dozen years, and his lions were finally uncovered at Trafalgar Square in 1869. Two of the studies which Landseer made at the Zoo for these lions are now in the National Gallery.
Three years earlier, on the death of Sir Charles Eastlake (1793-1865), Landseer had been offered the Presidency of the Royal Academy, but he declined the honor, for though a general favorite, popular alike at Court, in society, and with the public, he was subject to fits of depression brought about by an almost morbid sensitiveness and a certain constitutional delicacy. Towards the end of his life he suffered continually from nerves, and his general state of health was sadly impaired by a railway accident in November 1868. This accident not only left a scar on his forehead but affected his memory, so that his last years were much clouded. He died in his house in St John’s Wood on October 1, 1873, and was buried in state at St Paul’s Cathedral.
The tradition of painting animals with affectionate insight, founded by Landseer, has been followed with success by many other British artists, prominent among them being Briton Rivière (1840-1920), who, after being influenced at first by the pictures of the Pre-Raphaelites and by Tennyson’s poetry, soon turned his attention to the painting of pictures in which animals played an important part. His well-known ‘Sympathy,’ in the Tate Gallery, is a characteristic Victorian picture in the Landseer tradition, but in gayer and more agreeable colors. It tells its own story clearly, and can never fail to appeal to all who love children and dogs and have noted the unspoken sympathy which exists between them.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Up to about 1820 his subjects had chiefly been dogs and horses, but he soon added other animals to his repertory. Among his father’s friends was the historical painter Benjamin Robert Haydon (1786-1846), and on the advice of this artist Landseer, while still an Academy student, learnt to dissect and make anatomical studies of animals. Taking advantage of the death of a lion in one of the menageries, he diligently studied its anatomy, and the knowledge thus gained gave him a power in the drawing of that animal notable in his future works. The first fruits of these studies were his future works. The first fruits of these studies were his pictures ‘A Prowling Lion’ in the Academy of 1821 and ‘A Lion Disturbed’ in the following year. In 1824 he exhibited ‘The Cat’s Paw’, a picture of a monkey seizing a cat’s paw to take roasting chestnuts from a fire, this being one of the first of his animal paintings in which an obvious moral was happily combined with humor.
In this year, when Landseer was twenty two, he accompanied his friend and fellow-student C R Leslie (1794-1859) on a visit to Scotland, where the two young artists had the honor of staying with Sir Walter Scott at Abbotsford. Landseer drew the dogs of the author of Waverley, and was introduced by the novelist to the deer forests of Scotland. Henceforward the ‘monarch of the glen’ became one of Landseer’s favorite subjects, and deer-stalking was the sport which he loved beyond all others; but it is said that the sportsman was often vanquished by the artist, and that when a particularly noble animal came in sight, Landseer was apt to fling down his rifle and pick up instead his sketch-book and pencil.
In 1826 he was elected A.R.A and his prosperity being now assured he left his father’s house and established himself at 1 St John’s Wood Road, where he lived unmarried till the day of his death. Landseer now widened the field of his art, and painted pictures of various subjects, among them being several portraits. One of the most successful of the last was ‘Lord Cosmo Russell,’ a picture of a little boy on a rough pony scampering over the heather; but while he never lacked patrons even for portraiture, his fame and popularity depended chiefly on his animal pictures, and particularly on his paintings of dogs. A witty canon of St Paul’s who was advised to have his portrait painted by Landseer, laughingly declined with the remark, ‘Is they servant a dog that he should do this thing?’
In 1834 he exhibited at the Royal Academy ‘Bolton Abbey in the Older Time,’ one of the best known and most popular of all his works, which has been made familiar throughout Great Britain not only by engravings but also by innumerable copies in needlework. In 1837 he increased his already great reputation by his pictures of a faithful dog watching beside a coffin, entitled ‘The Old Shepherd’s Chief Mourner,’ a work of intense pathos, and in the following year he painted a noble Newfoundland dog as ‘A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society.’ No painter ever surpassed Landseer in rendering all the varied aspects of canine character, and while in some of his pictures he attained a sublimity of pathos so that some captions critics accused him of making his dogs ‘too human,’ in others he showed a subtle humor which is irresistible. Probably no English picture has ever enjoyed a wider popularity than ‘Dignity and Impudence’, in which Landseer amusingly contrasts an old bloodhound of the Duke of Grafton breed with a little Scotch terrier called ‘Scratch.’ Landseer loved dogs and kept a troop of them in his home at St John’s Wood.
From 1839 onwards the artist enjoyed a considerable intimacy with the Royal Family. He taught both Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort to etch and painted many pictures for them, one of his largest being ‘The Drive, Shooting Deer on the Pass.’ He had been elected R.A in 1831 and in 1850 he was knighted. He was a sculptor as well as a painter, and in 1859 he was commissioned to execute the lions for the base of Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square. On this work the artist was engaged, off and on, for some half a dozen years, and his lions were finally uncovered at Trafalgar Square in 1869. Two of the studies which Landseer made at the Zoo for these lions are now in the National Gallery.
Three years earlier, on the death of Sir Charles Eastlake (1793-1865), Landseer had been offered the Presidency of the Royal Academy, but he declined the honor, for though a general favorite, popular alike at Court, in society, and with the public, he was subject to fits of depression brought about by an almost morbid sensitiveness and a certain constitutional delicacy. Towards the end of his life he suffered continually from nerves, and his general state of health was sadly impaired by a railway accident in November 1868. This accident not only left a scar on his forehead but affected his memory, so that his last years were much clouded. He died in his house in St John’s Wood on October 1, 1873, and was buried in state at St Paul’s Cathedral.
The tradition of painting animals with affectionate insight, founded by Landseer, has been followed with success by many other British artists, prominent among them being Briton Rivière (1840-1920), who, after being influenced at first by the pictures of the Pre-Raphaelites and by Tennyson’s poetry, soon turned his attention to the painting of pictures in which animals played an important part. His well-known ‘Sympathy,’ in the Tate Gallery, is a characteristic Victorian picture in the Landseer tradition, but in gayer and more agreeable colors. It tells its own story clearly, and can never fail to appeal to all who love children and dogs and have noted the unspoken sympathy which exists between them.
The Victorian Age (continued)
Heard On The Street
In gem/jewelry/art business all things are valued according to their scarcity + tastes change
Pearl Identification
In my view X-radiography + X-ray luminescence are useful tests for testing strands with a mixture of different types of pearls (natural pearls vs beadless freshwater cultured pearls) because today we are seeing a lot of Chinese freshwater cultured pearls in the market, possibly getting mixed them up with Southsea cultured pearls or with natural marine pearls. If doubtful always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
Gold Speculation
I found the article from the current issue (March 7, 2008) of 'The Economist' on gold's rise interesting because external factors are forcing gold prices to speculative extremes, hurting everyone.
Useful links:
http://www.economist.com/finance/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10809383
www.ibb.ubs.com
www.morganstanley.com
Useful links:
http://www.economist.com/finance/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10809383
www.ibb.ubs.com
www.morganstanley.com
Heard On The Street
The next bubble = the small unknowledged investors buy so the smart ones can sell = Explosion!
Underwater Inn
(via budgettravel) I found the world's first and only underwater inn Jules' Undersea Lodge really interesting + astonishingly beautiful. I liked the concept + I hope it's environment-friendly.
Useful link:
http://jul.com
Useful link:
http://jul.com
Friday, March 07, 2008
Manoel de Oliveira
Manoel Cândido Pinto de Oliveira is a Portuguese film director + he is believed to be the oldest active film director in the world + he keeps a low profile, away from the spotlights + he has been honored at Cannes, Venice and Montréal film festivals + his movies are a magic combination of history/philosophy/theology with unique luster/voice/color and that otherness.
Useful links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manoel_de_Oliveira
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0210701/
Useful links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manoel_de_Oliveira
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0210701/
Gemological Conference
Gemworld International, Inc., along with the American Gem Trade Association Gemological Testing Center will be organizing their first joint gemological conference on September 13-14, 2008 in Chicago, U.S.A + Gemworld is the producer of the GemGuide and GemGuide Appraisal Software + AGTA Gemological Testing Center is an independent major colored gemstone laboratory in New York + the key theme of the conference is 'Integration of Information.'
Useful links:
www.worldofgemsconference.com
www.agta.org
www.gemguide.com
Useful links:
www.worldofgemsconference.com
www.agta.org
www.gemguide.com
The Victorian Age
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
The Art of Landseer, Leighton, Poynter, Alfred Stevens, Albert Moore, Orchardson, And G F Watts
1
Several of the artists already mentioned in this Outline—among them being Turner, Cotman, and David Cox—were alive and working when Queen Victoria ascended the throne in 1837, but we are not in the habit of thinking of any of these as typical artists of the Victorian era. Even the Pre-Raphaelites, whose art, as described in the last chapter, shed so much luster on the Queen’s long reign, were a group apart from the general trend of the times, and none of these painters—with the one exception of Millais in his later years—showed in his art those peculiar characteristics which we are now inclined to label broadly as ‘Victorian.’
Just as in politics the reign of Victoria was distinguished, before all things, by the growth of Democracy, so painting during this reign approached more closely than it had ever done before to popular ideals. Under Queen Victoria English painting became a homely, easily understandable art, appealing to the people by clear representation of simple themes often founded on everyday life, and almost always tinged by a sentiment perceptible and congenial to the humblest intelligence. Subject was of paramount importance, every picture told a story, and the story was usually of a simple nature that required no erudition for its comprehension, one that all who ran could read.
Of a host of pictures of this description only a few can be mentioned here. The quintessence of Victorianism may be found in the paintings of William Powell Frith (1819-1909), whose ‘Derby Day’, now in the Tate Gallery, created a sensation in 1858, and whose ‘Railway Station,’ painted four years later, is a still more dramatic assemblage of the ‘all sorts and conditions of men’ who go to make the world. No knowledge of the Old Masters or of the technique of painting is needed to enjoy Frith’s ‘Railway Station’; everybody can recognize the bridal couple being ‘seen off’ by their friends, the boy who is going to school, the new recruit taking leave of his parents, and the criminal who is being arrested at the moment when he thought to escape. This picture is not only full of the incidents which may be seen at any railway station; it is full of the simple human emotions which all have experienced and all can understand.
Very much the same qualities—though the subjects are entirely different—can be found in the works of Sir Edwin Landseer, R.A (1802-1873), who was reputed to have been Queen Victoria’s favorite painter, and was certainly one of the most popular and most successful painters of his day. Edwin Henry Landseer was born in London and was one of a family of artists. He was the third son of John Landseer, A.R.A., a painter and engraver; his brother Charles Landseer (1799-1879) also became a successful painter of historical and animal pictures; and his eldest brother, Thomas Landseer, became an expert engraver, whose prints after his brother’s pictures materially contributed to the widespread fame and popularity which Edwin Landseer enjoyed. Animals specially appealed to the young artist, and some of his earliest studies were made in a menagerie at Exeter Exchange, where the Strant Palace Hotel now stands. The first distinction he received was a premium from the Society of Arts for his drawing of ‘A Horse for Hunting,’ and at the age of fourteen he was admitted as a student to the schools of the Royal Academy, where he had already made his debut as an exhibitor with a painting of ‘The Heads of a Poynter and Puppy.’
The Victorian Age (continued)
The Art of Landseer, Leighton, Poynter, Alfred Stevens, Albert Moore, Orchardson, And G F Watts
1
Several of the artists already mentioned in this Outline—among them being Turner, Cotman, and David Cox—were alive and working when Queen Victoria ascended the throne in 1837, but we are not in the habit of thinking of any of these as typical artists of the Victorian era. Even the Pre-Raphaelites, whose art, as described in the last chapter, shed so much luster on the Queen’s long reign, were a group apart from the general trend of the times, and none of these painters—with the one exception of Millais in his later years—showed in his art those peculiar characteristics which we are now inclined to label broadly as ‘Victorian.’
Just as in politics the reign of Victoria was distinguished, before all things, by the growth of Democracy, so painting during this reign approached more closely than it had ever done before to popular ideals. Under Queen Victoria English painting became a homely, easily understandable art, appealing to the people by clear representation of simple themes often founded on everyday life, and almost always tinged by a sentiment perceptible and congenial to the humblest intelligence. Subject was of paramount importance, every picture told a story, and the story was usually of a simple nature that required no erudition for its comprehension, one that all who ran could read.
Of a host of pictures of this description only a few can be mentioned here. The quintessence of Victorianism may be found in the paintings of William Powell Frith (1819-1909), whose ‘Derby Day’, now in the Tate Gallery, created a sensation in 1858, and whose ‘Railway Station,’ painted four years later, is a still more dramatic assemblage of the ‘all sorts and conditions of men’ who go to make the world. No knowledge of the Old Masters or of the technique of painting is needed to enjoy Frith’s ‘Railway Station’; everybody can recognize the bridal couple being ‘seen off’ by their friends, the boy who is going to school, the new recruit taking leave of his parents, and the criminal who is being arrested at the moment when he thought to escape. This picture is not only full of the incidents which may be seen at any railway station; it is full of the simple human emotions which all have experienced and all can understand.
Very much the same qualities—though the subjects are entirely different—can be found in the works of Sir Edwin Landseer, R.A (1802-1873), who was reputed to have been Queen Victoria’s favorite painter, and was certainly one of the most popular and most successful painters of his day. Edwin Henry Landseer was born in London and was one of a family of artists. He was the third son of John Landseer, A.R.A., a painter and engraver; his brother Charles Landseer (1799-1879) also became a successful painter of historical and animal pictures; and his eldest brother, Thomas Landseer, became an expert engraver, whose prints after his brother’s pictures materially contributed to the widespread fame and popularity which Edwin Landseer enjoyed. Animals specially appealed to the young artist, and some of his earliest studies were made in a menagerie at Exeter Exchange, where the Strant Palace Hotel now stands. The first distinction he received was a premium from the Society of Arts for his drawing of ‘A Horse for Hunting,’ and at the age of fourteen he was admitted as a student to the schools of the Royal Academy, where he had already made his debut as an exhibitor with a painting of ‘The Heads of a Poynter and Puppy.’
The Victorian Age (continued)
Smart Mobs
Smart Mobs: The Next Social Revolution by Howard Rheingold is a thought-provoking book + the amazing thing is it's really happening + this book is a must read.
Useful link:
www.smartmobs.com
Useful link:
www.smartmobs.com
Baroque Brilliants
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
The earliest commercially fashioned Brilliants developed, very logically, from dodecahedral cuts and crystals, and therefore had rounded outlines. The term Baroque, which derives from the period in which such diamonds were first fashioned, has a wider relevance. Seventeenth-century taste created a sudden admiration of and demand for an entirely new arrangement of facets—numerous small ones round an octagonal table, all sparkling as if they were full of light rays, some white, others in all the colors of the rainbow. Exact symmetry was not important; instead, we find attractive minor irregularities in both the shape and the size of the different facets. Many people, including myself, infinitely prefer this type of cut to the rigidly symmetrical Brilliants produced today. These old cuts may allow some leakage of light, but they have distinct personalities and immese charm. This charm was totally lost in the Brilliants that were mass produced by the large cutting centers of the nineteenth century, when a competitive price was far more important than brilliance and fire.
The term Baroque, therefore, should not be restricted to early cuts, but should apply to any similarly fashioned Brilliant of whatever period, including the Brilliants for which the London cutters were so famous in the eighteenth and the first half of the nineteenth centuries, producing such diamonds as the Regent and probably also the Dresden Green.
The earliest commercially fashioned Brilliants developed, very logically, from dodecahedral cuts and crystals, and therefore had rounded outlines. The term Baroque, which derives from the period in which such diamonds were first fashioned, has a wider relevance. Seventeenth-century taste created a sudden admiration of and demand for an entirely new arrangement of facets—numerous small ones round an octagonal table, all sparkling as if they were full of light rays, some white, others in all the colors of the rainbow. Exact symmetry was not important; instead, we find attractive minor irregularities in both the shape and the size of the different facets. Many people, including myself, infinitely prefer this type of cut to the rigidly symmetrical Brilliants produced today. These old cuts may allow some leakage of light, but they have distinct personalities and immese charm. This charm was totally lost in the Brilliants that were mass produced by the large cutting centers of the nineteenth century, when a competitive price was far more important than brilliance and fire.
The term Baroque, therefore, should not be restricted to early cuts, but should apply to any similarly fashioned Brilliant of whatever period, including the Brilliants for which the London cutters were so famous in the eighteenth and the first half of the nineteenth centuries, producing such diamonds as the Regent and probably also the Dresden Green.
The New World
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
Next we see the designers at work. They are seated at long tables, each man intent on some scheme of color and form which he is creating in pencil and water color. Full color is used on paper, which, being translucent, gives to the opaque white a brilliancy approaching that of light on polishied metal or stone. Gems are represented in color with meticulous exactness of size and placement.
The artist works out his design with due reference to the stock of stones on hand; yet, if his creative invention carries the design outside the limits of the stones in stock, he is not therefore obliged to dismiss his idea, because the gem he needs will be provided. Naturally, such freedom makes for the best creative work.
After the design is completed on paper, it is carried out in duplicate on a wax base; but in this case real gemstones are set in their places on the wax model in order to give an approximate representation of the finished piece. A customer having an invidivual piece of jewelry made to order can thus gain in advance quite an accurate idea of how the jewel will appear when carried to completion in metal and gems.
In this practice of making preliminary wax models we find one of those long continuities of custom that tie the present with the past. When Venice was at the peak of her magnificence Benvenuto Cellini, master of master-goldsmiths, followed the same custom. But Cellini, after making the design in wax, proceeded himself to work it out in its final form; whereas, in this day of specialists, the designer usually gives over his model to be wrought in metal by another specialist.
Coming to one of the rooms where metal and gems are actually assembled we see each man working with a designer’s drawing or wax model set before him. For instance, one man, beginning with a flat sheet of platinum, is making a brooch according to design. With an incredibly fine saw he cuts the precious metal into minute ornamental units which are to be fastened together and built up, tier on tier. Finally it will be mounted with diamonds of the first water, and the draftsman’s work on paper will stand translated into an actual jewel to flash a million tiny rainbows at every movement of its wearer.
One department is given over entirely to work in gold and silver. At the moment of our observation, a bracelet—evidently a special order—is being made. It is about an inch and a half broad, an intricate and beautiful pattern of open scrollwork which on close inspection proves to be composed of letters. Taken together the letters spell ‘Peggy’. Such jewelry holds the charm of the personal touch—surely Peggy will love that bracelet.
After a glimpse of the department where men are at work making the handsome little jewel-cases in which a ring, or perhaps a necklace, will be delivered to the purchaser, we return to the main display rooms on the ground floor. Here the latest achievements of the modern jeweler are sheltered by almost invisible glass. We see brooches of diamonds forming flowers or cones; rich colorful sapphires, luxurious rubies and pearls set in the elusive gleam of platinum. But a description is no adequate substitute for visual experience. The frontpiece of this book shows some of Cartier’s jewels, but one must still imagine the flashing radiance of its diamonds and the vivid green of marvelous emeralds which no picuture, even in full color, could truly represent.
We have seen the latest products of the modern jeweler—all up-to-the minute yet made (in the main) by methods men have used for centuries past.
While watching the jewelry-makers at work one has felt transported back into a former era—an era before the days of mass-production, time-clock punching, and speed-at-any price. Instead, there exists an atmosphere in the ancient tradition. Pride of workmanship and the inherent compelling desire of the true craftsman to turn out the most skillful and beautiful of work, is still, as it was centuries ago, the dynamic power that moves the maker of fine jewelry. Many of the workers are middle-aged—there is no royal shortcut to the jeweler’s craft.
True, machines have recently been invented which mechanically produce facets at the correct angle on diamonds, but such wholesale methods are not used for the faceting of the more valuable stones. Here, at any rate, the machine has not replaced the master-craftsman.
In general, the changes of fashion have but little effect on the demand for first-rank stones. Their value tends to rise and fall according to general business conditions. During the period following the unhappy Wall Street collapse of 1929, the diamond industry suffered such a setback that most of the Kimberley mines of South Africa were closed by the Diamond Corporation. The supply so far exceeded the demand that only drastic steps could prevent the bottom falling out of the diamond market. Following World War II the price of diamonds soared dramatically and a stone of the first water more than doubled in value.
Next we see the designers at work. They are seated at long tables, each man intent on some scheme of color and form which he is creating in pencil and water color. Full color is used on paper, which, being translucent, gives to the opaque white a brilliancy approaching that of light on polishied metal or stone. Gems are represented in color with meticulous exactness of size and placement.
The artist works out his design with due reference to the stock of stones on hand; yet, if his creative invention carries the design outside the limits of the stones in stock, he is not therefore obliged to dismiss his idea, because the gem he needs will be provided. Naturally, such freedom makes for the best creative work.
After the design is completed on paper, it is carried out in duplicate on a wax base; but in this case real gemstones are set in their places on the wax model in order to give an approximate representation of the finished piece. A customer having an invidivual piece of jewelry made to order can thus gain in advance quite an accurate idea of how the jewel will appear when carried to completion in metal and gems.
In this practice of making preliminary wax models we find one of those long continuities of custom that tie the present with the past. When Venice was at the peak of her magnificence Benvenuto Cellini, master of master-goldsmiths, followed the same custom. But Cellini, after making the design in wax, proceeded himself to work it out in its final form; whereas, in this day of specialists, the designer usually gives over his model to be wrought in metal by another specialist.
Coming to one of the rooms where metal and gems are actually assembled we see each man working with a designer’s drawing or wax model set before him. For instance, one man, beginning with a flat sheet of platinum, is making a brooch according to design. With an incredibly fine saw he cuts the precious metal into minute ornamental units which are to be fastened together and built up, tier on tier. Finally it will be mounted with diamonds of the first water, and the draftsman’s work on paper will stand translated into an actual jewel to flash a million tiny rainbows at every movement of its wearer.
One department is given over entirely to work in gold and silver. At the moment of our observation, a bracelet—evidently a special order—is being made. It is about an inch and a half broad, an intricate and beautiful pattern of open scrollwork which on close inspection proves to be composed of letters. Taken together the letters spell ‘Peggy’. Such jewelry holds the charm of the personal touch—surely Peggy will love that bracelet.
After a glimpse of the department where men are at work making the handsome little jewel-cases in which a ring, or perhaps a necklace, will be delivered to the purchaser, we return to the main display rooms on the ground floor. Here the latest achievements of the modern jeweler are sheltered by almost invisible glass. We see brooches of diamonds forming flowers or cones; rich colorful sapphires, luxurious rubies and pearls set in the elusive gleam of platinum. But a description is no adequate substitute for visual experience. The frontpiece of this book shows some of Cartier’s jewels, but one must still imagine the flashing radiance of its diamonds and the vivid green of marvelous emeralds which no picuture, even in full color, could truly represent.
We have seen the latest products of the modern jeweler—all up-to-the minute yet made (in the main) by methods men have used for centuries past.
While watching the jewelry-makers at work one has felt transported back into a former era—an era before the days of mass-production, time-clock punching, and speed-at-any price. Instead, there exists an atmosphere in the ancient tradition. Pride of workmanship and the inherent compelling desire of the true craftsman to turn out the most skillful and beautiful of work, is still, as it was centuries ago, the dynamic power that moves the maker of fine jewelry. Many of the workers are middle-aged—there is no royal shortcut to the jeweler’s craft.
True, machines have recently been invented which mechanically produce facets at the correct angle on diamonds, but such wholesale methods are not used for the faceting of the more valuable stones. Here, at any rate, the machine has not replaced the master-craftsman.
In general, the changes of fashion have but little effect on the demand for first-rank stones. Their value tends to rise and fall according to general business conditions. During the period following the unhappy Wall Street collapse of 1929, the diamond industry suffered such a setback that most of the Kimberley mines of South Africa were closed by the Diamond Corporation. The supply so far exceeded the demand that only drastic steps could prevent the bottom falling out of the diamond market. Following World War II the price of diamonds soared dramatically and a stone of the first water more than doubled in value.
The Brilliant Cut
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
The meaning of the word Brilliant has changed over the years. Today the term is restricted to the modern, round, Brilliant Cut diamond with a table and thirty two other facets in the crown, a culet and twenty four facets in the pavilion. Back in 1564 the name began in France to replace the term Mirroring. At first it was used adjectivally but from 1608 it occurred occasionally as a noun, though not then indicating any specific type of faceting. In the Crown inventory of 1691, drawn up for Louis XIV, it was used exclusively for Brilliant Cuts—except for three separate examples of other cuts with exceptional light effects, which were also described as Brilliants.
The 1691 inventory is particularly reliable because it was compiled with great care and accuracy by professionals. The various cuts were described by Louis Alvarez, a famous diamond expert, and by Pierre Montarsis, the leading Paris jeweler. The entries were also checked and supplemented in great detail by the king himself, assisted by his secretary and Minister of Finance, Pontchartrain. Two examples are of interest. The French blue diamond is described as ‘à facettes à la mode des deux côtés, coeur court à 8 pans’. The description of the stone having eight main facets is strange when we know that the symmetry was sevenfold; they must have included the table. The fact that the gem was Stellar Cut is not mentioned. The first diamond of an agraffe is described thus: ‘Fort, haut de forme, carré, à la monde, grande étendue, 42⅝ ct.’ In later inventories all these diamonds are described simply as Brilliants. By the beginning of the eighteenth century the Brilliant Cut was well established, but the term itself still embraced other cuts, including not only all the modified Brilliant Cuts but also Sancy’s and Briolettes.
The true history of the Brilliant Cut is far more interesting than the stories which simply attribute its creation to various inventors. The earliest Brilliants were fashioned from several obsolete diamond cuts such as Burgundian Point Cuts, Pointed Star Cuts and Tailles en Seize, all of which were once developed from dodecahedral rough. The squarish shapes, which appeared later, were either fashioned from octahedron or, at least to begin with, were recuts of old High Table Cuts.
The old cuts no longer appealed. People wanted diamonds that would sparkle in the candlelight at the now fashionable night parties. A new pavilion-based cut was needed to complement the flat-bottomed Rose Cuts, whose popularity grew rapidly in the second half of the seventeenth century. And it was essential to make the best use of crystals that were well developed.
The creators of the initial ‘round’ Brilliant met with no real problems in designing its faceting. After having applied a table, surviving diamonds served as models; the Sancy Cuts for the crown part and the Pointed Star Cut for the pavilion. Thus, starting from any available round Point Cut with its apex first removed, they arrived easily at a prototype of a Brilliant Cut. If the basis for the experiment was a Pointed Star Cut, which is likely, the facetings alone called for a retouch.
The meaning of the word Brilliant has changed over the years. Today the term is restricted to the modern, round, Brilliant Cut diamond with a table and thirty two other facets in the crown, a culet and twenty four facets in the pavilion. Back in 1564 the name began in France to replace the term Mirroring. At first it was used adjectivally but from 1608 it occurred occasionally as a noun, though not then indicating any specific type of faceting. In the Crown inventory of 1691, drawn up for Louis XIV, it was used exclusively for Brilliant Cuts—except for three separate examples of other cuts with exceptional light effects, which were also described as Brilliants.
The 1691 inventory is particularly reliable because it was compiled with great care and accuracy by professionals. The various cuts were described by Louis Alvarez, a famous diamond expert, and by Pierre Montarsis, the leading Paris jeweler. The entries were also checked and supplemented in great detail by the king himself, assisted by his secretary and Minister of Finance, Pontchartrain. Two examples are of interest. The French blue diamond is described as ‘à facettes à la mode des deux côtés, coeur court à 8 pans’. The description of the stone having eight main facets is strange when we know that the symmetry was sevenfold; they must have included the table. The fact that the gem was Stellar Cut is not mentioned. The first diamond of an agraffe is described thus: ‘Fort, haut de forme, carré, à la monde, grande étendue, 42⅝ ct.’ In later inventories all these diamonds are described simply as Brilliants. By the beginning of the eighteenth century the Brilliant Cut was well established, but the term itself still embraced other cuts, including not only all the modified Brilliant Cuts but also Sancy’s and Briolettes.
The true history of the Brilliant Cut is far more interesting than the stories which simply attribute its creation to various inventors. The earliest Brilliants were fashioned from several obsolete diamond cuts such as Burgundian Point Cuts, Pointed Star Cuts and Tailles en Seize, all of which were once developed from dodecahedral rough. The squarish shapes, which appeared later, were either fashioned from octahedron or, at least to begin with, were recuts of old High Table Cuts.
The old cuts no longer appealed. People wanted diamonds that would sparkle in the candlelight at the now fashionable night parties. A new pavilion-based cut was needed to complement the flat-bottomed Rose Cuts, whose popularity grew rapidly in the second half of the seventeenth century. And it was essential to make the best use of crystals that were well developed.
The creators of the initial ‘round’ Brilliant met with no real problems in designing its faceting. After having applied a table, surviving diamonds served as models; the Sancy Cuts for the crown part and the Pointed Star Cut for the pavilion. Thus, starting from any available round Point Cut with its apex first removed, they arrived easily at a prototype of a Brilliant Cut. If the basis for the experiment was a Pointed Star Cut, which is likely, the facetings alone called for a retouch.
Green Travel
The book Green Travel: The World's Best Eco-Lodges & Earth-Friendly Hotels by Fodor's is an excellent source of information on green travel experiences around the world + it's a must read.
A Great Bargain Or A Big Rip-Off
The article A Great Bargain Or Big Rip-Off @ http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/article/1906.cfm was really educational + insightful because in my view there were valuable lessons for the gem and jewelry sector.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Spam Art Concept
Alex Dragulascu
www.sq.ro
I liked the way Alex Dragulascu morphed spams into some sort of an art format + they looked beautiful.
www.sq.ro
I liked the way Alex Dragulascu morphed spams into some sort of an art format + they looked beautiful.
The Virtual Community
The Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier by Howard Rheingold is an important book on issues surrounding the world online communities + I think it's a must read.
Useful link:
www.rheingold.com
Useful link:
www.rheingold.com
A New Pearl Center In Zhuji, China
China Pearls and Jewelry City has announced the grand opening of pearls & jewelry exhibition center in Zhuji, China, on April 18, 2008 + the facilities and services include a center for manufacturing + processing and trading pearls + jewelry / accessories/equipment + 5,000 shops / booths + a year-round platform for exhibition/ display / trade + warehouse / logistics facilities + import and export / banking / insurance services + a five-star hotel /restaurants /entertainment / residential facilities + an international jewelry appraisal and training center.
Useful links:
www.cpjcity.com
www.zj.gov.cn
Useful links:
www.cpjcity.com
www.zj.gov.cn
The New World
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
3. The Modern Jeweler
‘Beauty unadorned?’
Why shouldn’t it be adorned? Even the perfect rose will at times enhance its beauty by wearing a jewel in the form of a flashing dewdrop—and no one pulls a long face of reproof. It may be argued with truth that the dewdrop is always in good taste, while our jewelry is at time sadly lacking in that respect. Nevertheless, fashions of today are sufficiently varied to offer an exceptionally wide choice. The year 1939 brought an influx of so-called ‘costume jewelry’. Heavy and gorgeous in its imitation gold and synthetic gems, such jewelry is not expected to fool anybody as to the authenticity of its materials, but is worn as an accessory to some special gown, much as half a century ago we trimmed our dresses with colored glass beads woven into decorative bands called passementerie. Passementerie was discarded with the gown it ornamented and so will be the costume jewelry of the moment; yet worn with discretion this barbaric style can be extremely effective.
It is to Paris we look for the latest word in styles, yet America is also creating her own styles and rivaling even French technique in the (sometimes arduous) task of making us pleasing to the eye. At any rate, when Paris and New York combine forces in that particular field, you have something hard to beat in any land.
At the corner of Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street, New York City, stands Cartier, Inc. First established in Paris about 1840, Cartier’s was soon after to be found in London also, and by 1900 in New York City as well. At Cartier’s Fifth Avenue, may be seen the latest word in twentieth-century jewels, from tiaras, fit for royalty, to tiny golden bangles, fashioned according to the fleeting craze of the moment. Here, it would not be in the least difficult to spend several fortunes (if you happened to have them) without turning around. On the other hand you will also find a display of distinctive examples of the jeweler’s art, priced well within the limits of a modest pocketbook.
Viewed from the street, one gets the effect of a shop, select and conservatively small. But that reticent exterior is a doorway into two six-story buildings whose upper floors are all humming with the varied activities of skilled artisans and designers, for much of Cartier’s jewelry is made on the spot.
As one example of cosmopolitan development of the jeweler’s craft, let us go backstage where the public as a rule does not venture, and watch at close range some of the steps in the making of fine jewelry of today. An elevator takes us to the top of the building, and we enter a room dedicated to the appraisal of precious stones. One’s first impression is lack of all color, a room in black and gray, arranged for the special purpose of giving the best possible conditions for seeing. Daylight, the cold north light most desired by the painter, who must clearly differentiate his colors, falls on tables covered with black felt. Here the expert may examine the precious stone under consideration without any disturbing intrusion of other colors. As a rule, the layman does not fully realize how the eye reacts to a juxtaposition of two or more different colors—each one of which may appear to have undergone a change when seen by itself. The colorless room, however, takes care of that difficulty and allows a single gem to be seen at its true color-value, or else in its true relation to a differently colored stone.
Next we go to a strong room in which great safes hold trays of precious and semi-precious stones, some dressed, some still in the rough. Many of the latter completely hide their potential magnificence and look like dull and shapeless pebbles, yet one or another of these unimpressive little stones may represent cash in four figures. But before their value becomes evident to the public the sleeping beauty in each stone must be awakened by the hum of the lapidary’s wheel.
As we approach the next room we can hear the humming obbligato of wheels, puncutated by little whining solos as a ruby or sapphire is pressed against a whirling ‘lap’. There are many machines, and the lapidaries sit at long tables, each man with his rapidly revolving wheel before him. The stone to be cut is embedded in a bit of wax,of a special kind, and stuck fast to the end of a small stick. Near the wheel is an upright rest, called a ‘jamb-peg’. It is notched at intervals and serves as a brace for the upper end of the stick while the gem is being pressed firmly, at any desired angle, against the lap. Other than this simple contrivance, the lapidary depends generally on nothing but his eye and his long-trained judgment for the exact placement of a facet.
In rooms where loose gems are handled, the floor is covered with a wooden grill. If a stone chances to fall on the floor it is likely to lodge in a crevice, safe from passing feet until it is recovered. Few gems are ever lost, however, for every worker checks and rechecks his supply, and risk is further removed by a man who carefully examines every scrap of waste paper before throwing it into the discard.
The New World (continued)
3. The Modern Jeweler
‘Beauty unadorned?’
Why shouldn’t it be adorned? Even the perfect rose will at times enhance its beauty by wearing a jewel in the form of a flashing dewdrop—and no one pulls a long face of reproof. It may be argued with truth that the dewdrop is always in good taste, while our jewelry is at time sadly lacking in that respect. Nevertheless, fashions of today are sufficiently varied to offer an exceptionally wide choice. The year 1939 brought an influx of so-called ‘costume jewelry’. Heavy and gorgeous in its imitation gold and synthetic gems, such jewelry is not expected to fool anybody as to the authenticity of its materials, but is worn as an accessory to some special gown, much as half a century ago we trimmed our dresses with colored glass beads woven into decorative bands called passementerie. Passementerie was discarded with the gown it ornamented and so will be the costume jewelry of the moment; yet worn with discretion this barbaric style can be extremely effective.
It is to Paris we look for the latest word in styles, yet America is also creating her own styles and rivaling even French technique in the (sometimes arduous) task of making us pleasing to the eye. At any rate, when Paris and New York combine forces in that particular field, you have something hard to beat in any land.
At the corner of Fifth Avenue and 52nd Street, New York City, stands Cartier, Inc. First established in Paris about 1840, Cartier’s was soon after to be found in London also, and by 1900 in New York City as well. At Cartier’s Fifth Avenue, may be seen the latest word in twentieth-century jewels, from tiaras, fit for royalty, to tiny golden bangles, fashioned according to the fleeting craze of the moment. Here, it would not be in the least difficult to spend several fortunes (if you happened to have them) without turning around. On the other hand you will also find a display of distinctive examples of the jeweler’s art, priced well within the limits of a modest pocketbook.
Viewed from the street, one gets the effect of a shop, select and conservatively small. But that reticent exterior is a doorway into two six-story buildings whose upper floors are all humming with the varied activities of skilled artisans and designers, for much of Cartier’s jewelry is made on the spot.
As one example of cosmopolitan development of the jeweler’s craft, let us go backstage where the public as a rule does not venture, and watch at close range some of the steps in the making of fine jewelry of today. An elevator takes us to the top of the building, and we enter a room dedicated to the appraisal of precious stones. One’s first impression is lack of all color, a room in black and gray, arranged for the special purpose of giving the best possible conditions for seeing. Daylight, the cold north light most desired by the painter, who must clearly differentiate his colors, falls on tables covered with black felt. Here the expert may examine the precious stone under consideration without any disturbing intrusion of other colors. As a rule, the layman does not fully realize how the eye reacts to a juxtaposition of two or more different colors—each one of which may appear to have undergone a change when seen by itself. The colorless room, however, takes care of that difficulty and allows a single gem to be seen at its true color-value, or else in its true relation to a differently colored stone.
Next we go to a strong room in which great safes hold trays of precious and semi-precious stones, some dressed, some still in the rough. Many of the latter completely hide their potential magnificence and look like dull and shapeless pebbles, yet one or another of these unimpressive little stones may represent cash in four figures. But before their value becomes evident to the public the sleeping beauty in each stone must be awakened by the hum of the lapidary’s wheel.
As we approach the next room we can hear the humming obbligato of wheels, puncutated by little whining solos as a ruby or sapphire is pressed against a whirling ‘lap’. There are many machines, and the lapidaries sit at long tables, each man with his rapidly revolving wheel before him. The stone to be cut is embedded in a bit of wax,of a special kind, and stuck fast to the end of a small stick. Near the wheel is an upright rest, called a ‘jamb-peg’. It is notched at intervals and serves as a brace for the upper end of the stick while the gem is being pressed firmly, at any desired angle, against the lap. Other than this simple contrivance, the lapidary depends generally on nothing but his eye and his long-trained judgment for the exact placement of a facet.
In rooms where loose gems are handled, the floor is covered with a wooden grill. If a stone chances to fall on the floor it is likely to lodge in a crevice, safe from passing feet until it is recovered. Few gems are ever lost, however, for every worker checks and rechecks his supply, and risk is further removed by a man who carefully examines every scrap of waste paper before throwing it into the discard.
The New World (continued)
The Pre-Raphaelites
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
3
Meanwhile Rossetti had been treading another path, forsaking the naturalism of Holman Hunt, but avoiding the anecdotal triviality that tempted Millais; his pictures became more and more dream-like in their imaginative aloofness from life. The popularity that Millais courted was shunned by Rossetti, who, relying on the patronage of Ruskin and other admirers, ceased to exhibit his pictures except in his own studio.
In 1857 Rossetti went to Oxford with the intention of executing wall-paintings in the Debating Hall of the Union Society, and there he gathered round him a brilliant band of pupils, chief among whom were two undergraduates from Exeter College, William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones (1833-98) Unfortunately the English climate is fatal to true fresco painting, but though the Oxford decorations rapidly perished, and today are hardly visible, they remain historic as marking the starting-point of a new phase of Pre-Raphaelitism, in which the naturalist element was lost and its place taken by a more deliberately decorative and romantic medievalism. Of this new school Rossetti was as definitely the leader and inspirer as Holman Hunt had been of the original Brotherhood, and though for many years the pictures produced by Rossetti and his followers continued to be commonly described as ‘Pre-Raphaelite,’ it is now clear that their productions really had little to do with the original Pre-Raphaelitism, but formed part of what became known later as the ‘Aesthetic Movement.’
In 1862 Eleanor Siddal, who for ten years had been Rossetti’s model and constant inspiration, died, and at first the bereaved husband was so prostrated with grief that he was totally unfitted for work. But two years later he recommenced painting in oils, and reached the highest point in his ‘Lady Lilith’ of 1864, and ‘The Beloved,’ painted in 1865-6. Though nominally a subject from the Song of Solomon, this voluptuous presentation of feminine beauty, which for sheer loveliness rivals a Botticelli, is far removed from the simple and comparatively stern Bibilical paintings of the artist’s youth. The subject is clothed in the garb of medievalism, enveloped in the romance of fairy-tale, and heightened by a brilliance of color unsurpassed in the painter’s work.
Rossetti’s pictorial work may be divided into three periods, each of which is dominated by an ideal of womanhood derived from a living woman; in the first period she is his sister Christina, in the second his wife Eleanor Siddal, and the inspiration of the third was Mrs William Morris. Of the many pictures she inspired one of the most beautiful is ‘The Day-dream’ in the Ionides Collection at South Kensington, but though he painted her in many characters, he never painted Mrs Morris as Dante’s Beatrice. That character was sacred to his wife, and it was in memory of her that be began to paint in 1863—though it was not finished till much later—the ‘Beata Beatrix,’ now in the Tate Gallery. The picture, according to Rossetti, ‘is not intended at all to represent death, but to render it under the semblance of a trance, in which Beatrice, seated at a balcony overlooking the city (Florence), is suddenly rapt from earth to heaven.’
Rossetti died at Birchington in 1882, but his ideals were faithfully carried on by the most celebrated of his pupils, Edward Burne-Jones, who had been intended for the Church, but after meeting Rossetti at Oxford felt he must be a painter. One great difference between their pictures lay in their different ideals of womanhood, for while the women of Rossetti were full-blooded and passionate, those of Burne-Jones were of so refined a spirituality that to many people they appear anaemic.Otherwise the paintings of Burne-Jones are as remote from naturalism as the later works of Rossetti; he also gives us dream pictures of an imaginary medievalism; and while Rossetti, as became his Italian descent, found his ideal in the Florence of Dante’s time, the Welshman Burne-Jones fittingly found his in the legendary court of King Arthur. Both, however, were inspired by the same feeling for chivalry and romance, and the distance that had been traveled from Holman Hunt’s naturalism may be traced in the famous confession of Burne-Jones that he longed to paint ‘the light that never was on sea or land.’
In 1884 he exhibited one of his best known and most popular works, ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar-Maid,’ at the Grosvenor Gallery, and two years later, at the age of fifty thrree, he was tardily elected A.R.A, but he was never much in sympathy with the Academy, seldom exhibited there, and in 1893, five years before he died, he resigned his Associateship.
In addition to his pictures and water colors, Burne-Jones designed a number of tapestries and stained-glass windows for his lifelong friend William Morris, whose unbounded artistic energy found more congenial occupation in reviving crafts than in practising painting. In Morris the medievalism of Rossetti found a furiously eager and thoroughgoing exponent, and though many of his ideas were unpractical, his inauguration of the Arts and Crafts Society was one of the most fruitful art movements of the Victorian era, and to him more than to any other man we owe not only the revival of tapestry and stained glass but a great improvement on fine printing, in furniture, pottery, wall papers, and interior decoration generally.
Holman Hunt, the eldest of the Pre-Raphaelites, survived them all, and after painting a series of sacred pictures unique in English art for their religious fervor and geographical exactitude, he died in September 1910 at the great age of eighty three.
3
Meanwhile Rossetti had been treading another path, forsaking the naturalism of Holman Hunt, but avoiding the anecdotal triviality that tempted Millais; his pictures became more and more dream-like in their imaginative aloofness from life. The popularity that Millais courted was shunned by Rossetti, who, relying on the patronage of Ruskin and other admirers, ceased to exhibit his pictures except in his own studio.
In 1857 Rossetti went to Oxford with the intention of executing wall-paintings in the Debating Hall of the Union Society, and there he gathered round him a brilliant band of pupils, chief among whom were two undergraduates from Exeter College, William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones (1833-98) Unfortunately the English climate is fatal to true fresco painting, but though the Oxford decorations rapidly perished, and today are hardly visible, they remain historic as marking the starting-point of a new phase of Pre-Raphaelitism, in which the naturalist element was lost and its place taken by a more deliberately decorative and romantic medievalism. Of this new school Rossetti was as definitely the leader and inspirer as Holman Hunt had been of the original Brotherhood, and though for many years the pictures produced by Rossetti and his followers continued to be commonly described as ‘Pre-Raphaelite,’ it is now clear that their productions really had little to do with the original Pre-Raphaelitism, but formed part of what became known later as the ‘Aesthetic Movement.’
In 1862 Eleanor Siddal, who for ten years had been Rossetti’s model and constant inspiration, died, and at first the bereaved husband was so prostrated with grief that he was totally unfitted for work. But two years later he recommenced painting in oils, and reached the highest point in his ‘Lady Lilith’ of 1864, and ‘The Beloved,’ painted in 1865-6. Though nominally a subject from the Song of Solomon, this voluptuous presentation of feminine beauty, which for sheer loveliness rivals a Botticelli, is far removed from the simple and comparatively stern Bibilical paintings of the artist’s youth. The subject is clothed in the garb of medievalism, enveloped in the romance of fairy-tale, and heightened by a brilliance of color unsurpassed in the painter’s work.
Rossetti’s pictorial work may be divided into three periods, each of which is dominated by an ideal of womanhood derived from a living woman; in the first period she is his sister Christina, in the second his wife Eleanor Siddal, and the inspiration of the third was Mrs William Morris. Of the many pictures she inspired one of the most beautiful is ‘The Day-dream’ in the Ionides Collection at South Kensington, but though he painted her in many characters, he never painted Mrs Morris as Dante’s Beatrice. That character was sacred to his wife, and it was in memory of her that be began to paint in 1863—though it was not finished till much later—the ‘Beata Beatrix,’ now in the Tate Gallery. The picture, according to Rossetti, ‘is not intended at all to represent death, but to render it under the semblance of a trance, in which Beatrice, seated at a balcony overlooking the city (Florence), is suddenly rapt from earth to heaven.’
Rossetti died at Birchington in 1882, but his ideals were faithfully carried on by the most celebrated of his pupils, Edward Burne-Jones, who had been intended for the Church, but after meeting Rossetti at Oxford felt he must be a painter. One great difference between their pictures lay in their different ideals of womanhood, for while the women of Rossetti were full-blooded and passionate, those of Burne-Jones were of so refined a spirituality that to many people they appear anaemic.Otherwise the paintings of Burne-Jones are as remote from naturalism as the later works of Rossetti; he also gives us dream pictures of an imaginary medievalism; and while Rossetti, as became his Italian descent, found his ideal in the Florence of Dante’s time, the Welshman Burne-Jones fittingly found his in the legendary court of King Arthur. Both, however, were inspired by the same feeling for chivalry and romance, and the distance that had been traveled from Holman Hunt’s naturalism may be traced in the famous confession of Burne-Jones that he longed to paint ‘the light that never was on sea or land.’
In 1884 he exhibited one of his best known and most popular works, ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar-Maid,’ at the Grosvenor Gallery, and two years later, at the age of fifty thrree, he was tardily elected A.R.A, but he was never much in sympathy with the Academy, seldom exhibited there, and in 1893, five years before he died, he resigned his Associateship.
In addition to his pictures and water colors, Burne-Jones designed a number of tapestries and stained-glass windows for his lifelong friend William Morris, whose unbounded artistic energy found more congenial occupation in reviving crafts than in practising painting. In Morris the medievalism of Rossetti found a furiously eager and thoroughgoing exponent, and though many of his ideas were unpractical, his inauguration of the Arts and Crafts Society was one of the most fruitful art movements of the Victorian era, and to him more than to any other man we owe not only the revival of tapestry and stained glass but a great improvement on fine printing, in furniture, pottery, wall papers, and interior decoration generally.
Holman Hunt, the eldest of the Pre-Raphaelites, survived them all, and after painting a series of sacred pictures unique in English art for their religious fervor and geographical exactitude, he died in September 1910 at the great age of eighty three.
Freemium Business Model
I found the freemium business model @
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freemium_business_model interesting + insightful + I really liked the concept.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freemium_business_model interesting + insightful + I really liked the concept.
Nigerian Gem Deposits
Nigeria produces commercially important colored stones such as corundum (ruby + sapphire) + beryl (emerald + green beryl + aquamarine) + tourmaline (various colors) + topaz + garnet (spessartine), but most gem deposits are small-scale operations and irregular and often sold to dealers from East/West Africa/Europeans/Asians/North Americans + marketing channels are inefficient and disruptive + gemological knowledge is almost nonexistent + the local gem cutting industry needs a major facelift.
In my view the country has the potential if there are proper mining infrastructures + less corruption (difficult to get rid off) + improved security + proper gemological training at all levels + less bureaucracy.
Gem sales at Ibadan + Jos are good starts, but the government need to do more so that foreigners feel comfortable when buying gemstones through proper but reliable channels.
In my view the country has the potential if there are proper mining infrastructures + less corruption (difficult to get rid off) + improved security + proper gemological training at all levels + less bureaucracy.
Gem sales at Ibadan + Jos are good starts, but the government need to do more so that foreigners feel comfortable when buying gemstones through proper but reliable channels.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Random Thoughts
When one has reached maturity in the art, one will have a formless form. It is like ice dissolving in water. When one has no form, one can be all forms; when one has no style, he can fit in with any style.
- Bruce Lee
- Bruce Lee
Global Warming + Traditional Vineyards
(via The Guardian) Robert Joseph writes about the new challenges facing Europe's traditional vineyards + the effect of climate change to the wine industry + other viewpoints @ http://lifeandhealth.guardian.co.uk/drink/story/0,,2261841,00.html
Tools For Thought
Tools for Thought: The History and Future of Mind-Expanding Technology by Howard Rheingold is an interesting book about computing + insightful + I think this book is a valuable work.
Making 1,200 Museums Bloom
Barbara Pollack writes about the new challenges facing museum curators in China + absence of training programs for museum professionals + the impact + other viewpoints @ http://artnewsonline.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=2456
The New World
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
Certain parts or even whole designs were often wrought, with great skill, entirely of human hair glued to the background. Or the design might be a ‘hair painting’. We have no documents to explain the technique of this lost art, but microscopic examination discloses the fact that finely chopped hair was mixed with the pigments. Somewhat less gloomy was the miniature (portrait) of the deceased mounted on a background of his or her hair—excellent for a locket.
Miniature portrait painters found it expedient to add ‘hair work’ to their artistic accomplishments and accordingly placed in the newspapers of the day such advertisements as this:
Miniature Painting. Hair work, etc. done in the neatest manner.
Or, expressed with more distinction:
All Kinds of Hair Devices made in the most elegant style.
Watchchains and bracelets were made of hair intricately plaited in many strands. Sometimes the braid was caught at intervals by medallions of wrought gold. When the hair was rich in color the effect was surprisingly pleasing—if you did not stop to think about it.
Charles Dickens (1812-70) in Great Expectations draws attention to mourning jewelry as worn in England. America could claim an equivalent propensity to advertise bereavement in like manner.
I judged him to be a bachelor (says Dickens) from the frayed condition of his linen, and he appeared to have sustained a good many bereavements; for he wore at least four mourning rings, besides a brooch representing a lady and a weeping willow at a tomb with an urn on it. I noticed, too, several rings and seals hung at his watchchain, as if he were quite laden with rememberances of departed friends.
Of course, in inspite of fashionable gloom there was also a brighter side of life to be represented by jewelry of the Victorian period. Red coral delicately carved and mounted in gold; purple amethyst set with pearls; amber and carnelian were wont to add their charm of color to the costumes of dainty ladies.
A funnel-shaped bouquet, the flowers formally arranged in concentric rings, was in accessory to the ball gown, and to carry this, without danger to gloves, a silver filigree bouquet-holder was the last word of sophisticated elegance.
The year 1849 brought spectacular discovery of gold in the West and the consequent famous gold rush of the Forty-niners. As yet there was no railroad extending from coast to coast across the continent; but the avid fever of desire for gold travels regardless of highways. It gripped even those who lived on the far shores of the Atlantic, for news of gold is broadcast without benefit of airmail or radio. To many men gold was a loadstone of incalculable power—go they must, no matter how difficult. And the going was mighty difficult. The best they could do was to take ship down the coast to the Isthmus of Panama, where a crude railroad ran only part way across the Isthmus (there was no navigable canal in ’49). The road was still unfinished, its rails coming to an abrupt end in the wilderness. At the last tie, there was nothing for it but to get out and walk, crawl, climb, wade as best they could through tropical, fever-haunted jungles and swamps. But what matter? There was gold drawing them onward. Some died by the way, but a surprising number of men reached the Pacific Coast, where they again took ship and sailed toward their hearts’ desire. This time it was no mirage but real American gold not to be disproved.
Markets on the Atlantic Coast leaped to the new impetus and gold jewelry became the order of the day.
Some years before the famous gold rush (about 1837) a shop had been opened on Broadway in New York City. It carried stationery and fancy goods with a side-line of jewelry. At first the shop could not have been either very large or impressive, for it was originally established on a borrowed capital of only one thousand dollars. But it prospered from the start. The business was run by two young American merchants, John B Young and Charles Louis Tiffany.
Presently it was found that their stock of jewelry had to be increased because it was growing more important than the stationery. In ten years’ time the partners were manufacturing gold jewelry, and from then on the course of the great House of Tiffany was definitely set.
The next year, 1848, was a troublous year for the Old Country though not for the New. There was an epidemic of revolutions among the various peoples of Europe. One after another they began to rise and defy their governing classes. Those in office, from kings downwards, were sent flying for safety—anywhere so it was out of their own countries. Paris, never to be outdone in such matters, was staging a revolution of sorts. Aristrocrats in sudden flight from France must have money on the instant, and the quickest way to get it was to sell their jewels.
And because such a great number of diamonds had all at once been thrown on the market, their price dropped fifty per cent. Here was the chance of a century for a diamond merchant.
As it happened, John Young had gone to Paris that very year. Tiffany, in New York, sent hurried word to his partner to buy all the diamonds in Paris that he could lay hands on, and bring them back to America.
Americans were buying, not selling, diamonds. This move reaped a fortune and the growing business required more room; it moved and continued at intervals to move again, each time into larger and more impressive quarters. The firm name became Tiffany and Company in 1851. Branches were established in London and Paris, and today, as one of the leading jewelers of America, Tiffany’s imposing shop stands on the New World’s most famous highway—glamorous Fifth Avenue in New York City.
The New World (continued)
Certain parts or even whole designs were often wrought, with great skill, entirely of human hair glued to the background. Or the design might be a ‘hair painting’. We have no documents to explain the technique of this lost art, but microscopic examination discloses the fact that finely chopped hair was mixed with the pigments. Somewhat less gloomy was the miniature (portrait) of the deceased mounted on a background of his or her hair—excellent for a locket.
Miniature portrait painters found it expedient to add ‘hair work’ to their artistic accomplishments and accordingly placed in the newspapers of the day such advertisements as this:
Miniature Painting. Hair work, etc. done in the neatest manner.
Or, expressed with more distinction:
All Kinds of Hair Devices made in the most elegant style.
Watchchains and bracelets were made of hair intricately plaited in many strands. Sometimes the braid was caught at intervals by medallions of wrought gold. When the hair was rich in color the effect was surprisingly pleasing—if you did not stop to think about it.
Charles Dickens (1812-70) in Great Expectations draws attention to mourning jewelry as worn in England. America could claim an equivalent propensity to advertise bereavement in like manner.
I judged him to be a bachelor (says Dickens) from the frayed condition of his linen, and he appeared to have sustained a good many bereavements; for he wore at least four mourning rings, besides a brooch representing a lady and a weeping willow at a tomb with an urn on it. I noticed, too, several rings and seals hung at his watchchain, as if he were quite laden with rememberances of departed friends.
Of course, in inspite of fashionable gloom there was also a brighter side of life to be represented by jewelry of the Victorian period. Red coral delicately carved and mounted in gold; purple amethyst set with pearls; amber and carnelian were wont to add their charm of color to the costumes of dainty ladies.
A funnel-shaped bouquet, the flowers formally arranged in concentric rings, was in accessory to the ball gown, and to carry this, without danger to gloves, a silver filigree bouquet-holder was the last word of sophisticated elegance.
The year 1849 brought spectacular discovery of gold in the West and the consequent famous gold rush of the Forty-niners. As yet there was no railroad extending from coast to coast across the continent; but the avid fever of desire for gold travels regardless of highways. It gripped even those who lived on the far shores of the Atlantic, for news of gold is broadcast without benefit of airmail or radio. To many men gold was a loadstone of incalculable power—go they must, no matter how difficult. And the going was mighty difficult. The best they could do was to take ship down the coast to the Isthmus of Panama, where a crude railroad ran only part way across the Isthmus (there was no navigable canal in ’49). The road was still unfinished, its rails coming to an abrupt end in the wilderness. At the last tie, there was nothing for it but to get out and walk, crawl, climb, wade as best they could through tropical, fever-haunted jungles and swamps. But what matter? There was gold drawing them onward. Some died by the way, but a surprising number of men reached the Pacific Coast, where they again took ship and sailed toward their hearts’ desire. This time it was no mirage but real American gold not to be disproved.
Markets on the Atlantic Coast leaped to the new impetus and gold jewelry became the order of the day.
Some years before the famous gold rush (about 1837) a shop had been opened on Broadway in New York City. It carried stationery and fancy goods with a side-line of jewelry. At first the shop could not have been either very large or impressive, for it was originally established on a borrowed capital of only one thousand dollars. But it prospered from the start. The business was run by two young American merchants, John B Young and Charles Louis Tiffany.
Presently it was found that their stock of jewelry had to be increased because it was growing more important than the stationery. In ten years’ time the partners were manufacturing gold jewelry, and from then on the course of the great House of Tiffany was definitely set.
The next year, 1848, was a troublous year for the Old Country though not for the New. There was an epidemic of revolutions among the various peoples of Europe. One after another they began to rise and defy their governing classes. Those in office, from kings downwards, were sent flying for safety—anywhere so it was out of their own countries. Paris, never to be outdone in such matters, was staging a revolution of sorts. Aristrocrats in sudden flight from France must have money on the instant, and the quickest way to get it was to sell their jewels.
And because such a great number of diamonds had all at once been thrown on the market, their price dropped fifty per cent. Here was the chance of a century for a diamond merchant.
As it happened, John Young had gone to Paris that very year. Tiffany, in New York, sent hurried word to his partner to buy all the diamonds in Paris that he could lay hands on, and bring them back to America.
Americans were buying, not selling, diamonds. This move reaped a fortune and the growing business required more room; it moved and continued at intervals to move again, each time into larger and more impressive quarters. The firm name became Tiffany and Company in 1851. Branches were established in London and Paris, and today, as one of the leading jewelers of America, Tiffany’s imposing shop stands on the New World’s most famous highway—glamorous Fifth Avenue in New York City.
The New World (continued)
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