Dutch Painting In The Seventeenth Century

(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:

The Art Of Cuyp, Dou, Hobbema, De Hooch, Potter, Maes, Ruisdael, Van De Velde, And Vermeer Of Delft

After a long struggle, the yoke of the Spaniards was broken, and the independence of the Dutch Republic was established in 1648 by the Peace of Mϋnster. This event is commemorated by Terborch’s picture (in the National Gallery) of the signing of the Treaty; in this it will be noticed that the Protestant Dutch delegates raise their hands to affirm, while the Roman Catholic plenipotentiaries of Spain lay their hands on the Gospel to take the oath. Careful and exact both in portraiture of those present and in the painting of every little detail, this moderate-sized picture expresses the sober spirit in which Holland celebrated her victory.

While of considerable historic interest, this picture is not a supreme masterpiece of art; it is not so effective as the same painter’s ‘Portrait of a Gentleman,’ a small full-length figure which also hangs in the National Gallery. Historical subjects did not call forth the highest powers of the painters of the Netherlands. The art of Holland was neither an ecclesiastical nor a state art: it was a domestic art which produced pictures, not for churches or public buildings, but for the private homes of citizens. So wonderful was the artistic activity inspired by the wave of patriotism which swept through Holland, that the name of these so-called ‘Little Masters’ is truly legion, and no attempt can be made in this Outline to mention each by name. Only a few representative artists can be selected for individual notice.

Chronologically, the first place among the Little Masters is claimed by Adrian Brouwer (1605-38), whose ‘Boor Asleep’ is one of the most precious Dutch pictures in the Wallace Collection. It is still a matter of dispute whether Brouwer was born in Holland or Flanders, but he certainly spent his youth in Haarlem, where he studied under Frans Hals. Afterwards he worked both in Amsterdam and Antwerp. How highly Brouwer was esteemed by other painters of his time is shown by the fact that Rubens possessed seventeen of his pictures, while even Rembrandt, in spite of his financial difficulties, managed to collect and retain eight Brouwers. A humorous vividness of vision, concise and vigorous drawing, and an enamel-like beauty of color are the distinctive qualities of his art.

Apart from the landscape-painters—whom we must consider subsequently—most of the Dutch painters of the home descended (artistically) either from Hals or from Rembrandt. Gerard Dou (1613-75), one of Rembrandt’s many pupils, was the most successful painter financially of his day. He made his fortune by never progressing beyond the first manner of his master and by painting with a careful literalness which demanded no exercise of the beholder’s imagination. ‘The Poulterer’s Shop’ is a typical example of Dou’s minutely finished style. It has always been popular because it is much easier to recognize industry than to understand inspiration, and in rendering this everyday incident in a shopping expedition Dou has spared no pains to render each detail with laborious fidelity.

How even in the rendering of detail there is all the difference in the world between the Letter of Exactitude and the Spirit of Truth may be seen when we compare the pictures of Dou with those of similar scenes by Terborch, De Hoogh, or Vermeer. Each one of these three exquisite painters has an eye for detail as keen as that possessed by Dou, but they all have far more ability than Dou possessed to subordinate details to the unity of the whole. The eldest of these three masters, Gerard Terborch or Terberg(1617-81), has already been mentioned. As a young man he studied at Haarlem, where he was probably influenced by Hals and Brouwer, but Terborch did not found his style only on what he found within the borders of Holland. He was more a man-of-the-world than most of his artist contemporaries. He visited England, Germany, France, Italy, and Spain, and in the last country he certainly studied the paintings of Velazquez, who was only eighteen years in his senior. Like Velazquez, but unlike most of his fellows in Holland, Terborch was aristocratic in the temper of his art, so that his pictures as a rule show us a higher strata of Dutch society than that depicted by the majority of Dutch artists.

Dutch Painting In The Seventeenth Century (continued)

Richard Bach

The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we are afraid.

UV Test Helps Fingerprint Blue Diamonds

Randolph E Schmid writes about the famed Hope Diamond's reaction to ultraviolet light + a complimentary test to differentiate natural ones from imitations or treated stones + other viewpoints @ http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080107/ap_on_sc/glowing_gem

Useful links:
www.si.edu
www.nrl.navy.mil

Gitanjali Group

The Indian jewelry company made headlines when it acquired Samuels Jewelers (2006) + a majority interest in Tri-Star Worldwide LLC (2007) + Rogers (2007) + I think there will be more acquisitions of jewelry brands and other concepts by Gitanjali in the coming months/years.

Useful link:
www.gitanjaligroup.com

Strange + Cool + Beautiful

Here is an interesting concept about design + energy efficiency + globally conscious living @ http://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/multimedia/2008/01/modular_homes

I liked it.

International Energy Outlook

Here is an interesting review @ International Energy Outlook 2007 + Oil Long Term Supply and Demand + the new competition (s) in the worldwide energy market (s).

Useful links:
www.eia.doe.gov
www.bakerhughesdirect.com

Avoid Boring People

Avoid Boring People by James Watson is an interesting book + it's a scintillating mixture of the many strands of his life + his reflection on the good and bad that characterized that period + I think the lessons are valuable and insightful.

Here is what Random House wrote about the book:
From a living legend—James D. Watson, who shared the Nobel Prize for having revealed the structure of DNA—a personal account of the making of a scientist. In Avoid Boring People, the man who discovered “the secret of life” shares the less revolutionary secrets he has found to getting along and getting ahead in a competitive world.

Recounting the years of his own formation—from his father’s birding lessons to the political cat’s cradle of professorship at Harvard—Watson illuminates the progress of an exemplary scientific life, both his own pursuit of knowledge and how he learns to nurture fledgling scientists. Each phase of his experience yields a wealth of age-specific practical advice. For instance, when young, never be the brightest person in the room or bring more than one date on a ski trip; later in life, always accept with grace when your request for funding is denied, and--for goodness’ sake--don’t dye your hair. There are precepts that few others would find occasion to heed (expect to gain weight after you win your Nobel Prize, as everyone will invite you to dinner) and many more with broader application (do not succumb to the seductions of golf if you intend to stay young professionally). And whatever the season or the occasion: avoid boring people.

A true believer in the intellectual promise of youth, Watson offers specific pointers to beginning scientists about choosing the projects that will shape their careers, the supreme importance of collegiality, and dealing with competitors within the same institution, even one who is a former mentor. Finally he addresses himself to the role and needs of science at large universities in the context of discussing the unceremonious departure of Harvard's president Larry Summers and the search for his successor.

Scorning political correctness, this irreverent romp through Watson’s life and learning is an indispensable guide to anyone plotting a career in science (or most anything else), a primer addressed both to the next generation and those who are entrusted with their minds.

Portraits Of The Second World War's Feathered Heroes For Sale

(via The Guardian) Mark Brown writes about the oil paintings belonging to the man who put together the crack squad of birds, which were based at four secret lofts known as the XX lofts + other viewpoints @ http://arts.guardian.co.uk/art/news/story/0,,2235281,00.html

Brilliant work!

The Goldsmith – Jeweler Of Egypt

(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:

4. Seals And Finger Rings

Not many years ago it was the fashion for man to wear a seal dangling from his watch fob. The jeweled trinket merely formed a pendant at the end of his watch chain, and its owner never even thought of it as anything except an ornament. Yet seals, whose ancestry dates back to the dawn of civilization, were once among the most useful and universally used articles turned out by the engraver. The word ‘seal’ be it remembered, is used in two ways: meaning either the bit of clay or wax on which a device is impressed, or the implement used to produce the impression.

In early times, when, with the advance of civilization, wandering tribes settled into communities, their increased personal possessions and interchange of documents called for some kind of identification mark that could be placed on such property or records. The obvious thing for the purpose was a seal. Accordingly the making of seals was given to the craftsmen skilled in engraving stones or metals. Each seal must bear some device or inscription that was recognizable as indicating personal ownership of property or the certification of a document. But this was not all a seal was supposed to do. Any property or document stamped with the owner’s seal was bound to him and he to it by a link of magic.

Signet stones were cut in various shapes, such as cylinders, cones, button forms, etc. The flat base of the little scarab, incised with some emblem, became in time one of the most popular of all signets.

Now, in order to produce any inscription in relief on wax or clay the inscription on the signet must be incised—that is, hollowed out instead of raised above the surface. This manner of cutting is called intaglio. Many of us possess modern intaglio-cut jewels but perhaps we have thought of their incised design only as one of the ways of decorating stones, without ever tracing the custom back to its original use. Yet it would be interesting to make the exquisite little bas-reliefs which result from pressing our intaglio gems upon a bit of dampened pipe-clay. Sealing wax does not give as clear an impression.

It is not definitely known just when the scarab took on, or when it relinquished, the duty of acting as a signet. In early days customs and manners in respect to anything were not the fleeting fashions of a moment that they so often are at present. It usually took invasion, war, and conquest to kill an established fashion overnight and set up a new one by morning. Probably for a long time scarabs, pierced like beads and worn suspended by a woolen cord around neck or wrist, served as amulets before reaching the point of development where they took the first step toward their use as signets, and much later as signet stones in rings. Even then, the ‘ring’ was likely to be only a bit of yarn on which the scarab was strung.

The next step was the replacement of yarn by wire, which had the advantage of being more durable. Wire of that period was not drawn. It was made of beating out gold, silver, or bronze and cutting it into strips which were then elongated and shaped by further hammering. Like the cord, the wire was flexible, and the scarab was strung like a bead and fastened round the finger.

In the course of time the wire was metamorphosed into a band of metal, no longer flexible but fashioned into a stiff hoop, one side of which carried what is known as the bezel. The bezel is that part of a ring where a gem is set for where the metal itself is enlarged to bear an inscription.

At this point the finger ring might be said to have reached maturity. It could, and did, and still does, take on many differing styles of ornamental design, but in the main its general form was the same then as today.

Of course a ring at this early stage was not considered merely as a piece of jewelry to adorn a hand. Its owner was wont to demand of it powers both supernatural and entirely practical. Hence a scarab set in a ring possessed a particularly efficient combination of desirable uses.

The scarab itself might be made of metal or clay, but more often was carved in soapstone, serpentine, ‘fire-fretted’ lapis lazuli, or hematite—and opaque stone ranging in color from dark steely gray to iron black. Carnelian, jasper, or whatever gemstone its owner could afford would take the form of a scarab. The convex back of the beetle was realistically carved and often decorated with small hieroglyphics, and a gold rim usually encircled the stone.

On the flat base was engraved the owner’s name, the name of the reigning king and emblems of certain deities. But a most ingenious device the scarab became efficient in two ways. Lengthwise through its center ran a wire, each end of which was fastened to the shank of the ring-band thus forming a pivot. On this pivot the scarab could revolve and not only exercise its original magic function as an amulet, but by a twist of thumb and finger could be turned over and made to serve the practical purpose of a signet. Such rings were called swivel rings.

‘The impression of the signet ring of a monarch,’ says one historian, ‘gave the force of a royal decree to any instrument to which it was attached.’

The Goldsmith – Jeweler Of Egypt (continued)

How Art Rose With The Dutch Republic

(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:

Overwhelmed by his domestic sorrows—he lost his old mother two years before Saskia died—neglected by his former patrons, Rembrandt turned to Nature for consolation. He wandered about the countryside recording all he saw. Practically all his landscapes were painted between 1640 and 1652. Many of his most beautiful landscape etchings were also executed during this period. The most famous of them all, ‘The Three Trees’, was done in 1643. It shows a view of Amsterdam from a slight eminence outside the town, and a storm-cloud and its shadow are used to intensify the brilliance of the light and the dramatic aspect of this mood of Nature. This is landscape in the grand style; but its homelier, more intimate note appealed equally to the artist. A lovely example of the picturesque corner portrayed for its own intrinsic beauty is the etching executed in 1645 known as ‘Six Bridge’. Tradition relates that this plate was etched against time for a wager at the country house of Rembrandt’s most loyal friend, Jan Six, while the servant was fetching the mustard, that had been forgotten for a meal, from a neighboring village. There is nothing impossible in the story, for Rembrandt is known to have been an impetuous and rapid worker on occasion; but if this little masterpiece was done in haste, we must not forget that it was also done with ‘the knowledge of a lifetime.’

Even while Saskia was alive Rembrandt was in want of ready money, and when on his mother’s death in 1640 he inherited a half-share of a mill, he hastened to have it transferred to his brother Wilhelm and his nephew. Though he lost money by the transaction, he probably gained his end in keeping all the mill in the family instead of a share going to his creditors. Then in 1647 he became involved in lawsuits with Saskia’s family, who objected to Rembrandt’s connection with his servant Hendrickje Stoffels, and wished to prevent Rembrandt from being trustee for his and Saskia’s son Titus. These lawsuits, which lasted till after 1653, and ended in Saskia’s relatives obtaining the trusteeship but not the custody of Titus, greatly contributed to Rembrandt’s difficulties.

His marriage with Hendrickje Stoffels, a woman of humble birth, was another cause of offense to aristocratic patrons; all the same, it was a wise action. This devoted woman mothered Titus with loving and unremitting care; she made great efforts to stem the tide of ill-fortune, and when the crash came and Rembrandt was made bankrupt in 1656, she loyally shared her husband’s troubles and used her wits to rebuild their fortunes. As soon as Titus was old enough she combined with in keeping an old curiosity shop, starting, one imagines, with some relics of the treasures Rembrandt had amassed for Saskia. Money, or the want of it, however, was not a thing which could profoundly trouble a philosophic dreamer like Rembrandt. If he had it, he spent it royally; if he had it not, he went without. Only a year after his bankruptcy he achieved one of the world’s masterpieces of portraiture, ‘The Artist’s Son Titus,’ in the Wallace Collection. If you look at the Pellicorne portraits, also in the Wallace Collection, you will obtain a fair idea of Rembrandt’s ordinary professional style in 1632-4, when his painting was still popular. But how thin and shallow these early portraits of the son he loved so dearly. Turning to the ‘Titus’ after these early works, we see how far Rembrandt has traveled. Three or four years later he painted the wonderful ‘Portrait of Francoise van Wasserhoven’, in the National Gallery, one of the most reverent, sympathetic, and intimate studies of old age ever painted.

Throughout his life Rembrandt was a keen student of human nature, and no painter has ever penetrated further than he did into the inner lives of the men and women he painted. His wonderful insight into character made him the greatest psychologist in portraiture the world has yet seen, and since he searched faces above all for the marks of life’s experience which they bore, old people—who had had the longest experience—were inevitably subjects peculiarly dear to him and subjects which he interpreted with consummate mastery. His own face he painted over and over again, and if we study the sequence of his self-portraiture from early manhood to ripe old age, we see not only the gradual development of his technical powers but also the steady advance made by Rembrandt in expressing with poignant intensity the thoughts and emotions of humanity.

Of Rembrandt’s technique Sir John Everett Millais wrote: ‘In his first period Rembrandt was very careful and minute in detail, and there is evidence of stippling in his flesh paintings; but in the fullness of his power all appearance of such manipulation and minuteness vanished in the breadth and facility of his brush, though the advantage of his early manner remained....I have closely examined his pictures in the National Gallery, and have actually seen beneath the grand veil of breadth, the early work that his art conceals from untrained eyes—the whole science of painting.’ Among his contemporaries the minute detail in the work of his earlier period was far more admired than the ‘veil of breadth’ which he cast over his later paintings, and it was long before people who admired his early portraits could be persuaded that his later paintings were not only equally good, but vastly superior both in workmanship and expression.

Gradually among the discerning few the outstanding excellence of Rembrandt’s portraiture was again acknowledged, and in 1661 he received a commission for another official portrait group. He was asked to paint a portrait group of five officials of the Clothmaker’s Company, and staging them on the dais on which they presided over a meeting, Rembrandt produced the wonder-work known as ‘The Syndics.’ Avoiding the dangers of ‘The Sortie,’ Rembrandt places all five figures in a clear light and yet gives them the unity of a scene taken from life.

Alas! this fresh artistic triumph was dearly paid for by more domestic misfortunes. Soon after this work was completed, Hendrickje the loyal helpmate died. Titus, now grown up, married his cousin, and after less than a year of married life he also died. Now, indeed, Rembrandt was alone in the world, and though a posthumous daughter to Titus was born in 1669, the artist, now his sixty third year was too worn out to struggle much longer against ‘the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.’ He lived long enough to see his little granddaughter Titia christened after father, and then, crushed by the accumulated sorrows of a lifetime, passed to his long rest on October 4, 1669. To all appearance the illness and death of the greatest man Holland ever produced passed unnoticed, and only the bare fact of his burial in the Westerkerck, Amsterdam, is attested by an official entry.

Crystal Island

(via The Guardian) Tom Parfitt writes about Lord Foster's design for the world's biggest building in Moscow (Russia) + other viewpoints @ http://arts.guardian.co.uk/art/architecture/story/0,,2235255,00.html

Useful link:
www.fosterandpartners.com

True North Gems In Bangkok

Vancouver-based gemstone miner, True North Gems, has opened an office in Bangkok, to sort + grade rough gems from the company's Fiskenaesset Ruby Project, located on the southwest coast of Greenland.

Useful link:
www.truenorthgems.com

Gold Phenomenon

It is interesting to note that major global gold jewelry sales occur in November during the Indian wedding season + in December during Christmas and Hanukah + in January during Asian Lunar New Year.

Arabic Diamond Report

Dubai-based International Diamond Laboratories has become the world’s first issuer of Arabic-language diamond certificates. International Diamond Laboratories provides diamond certification services from its headquarters in the UAE + Antwerp + Mumbai (India).

I think the concept is going to be very popular among the Arab consumers in the Middle East.

Useful link:
www.diamondlab.org

Andrew Grima

(via AP) Andrew Grima's jewelry adorned royalty and celebrities + today the items are sought after by collectors. He died on Dec 26, 2007. He was 86.

Useful link:
www.grimajewellery.com

No Dry Holes

(via Forbes) The BP slogan: No dry holes = Geologists would have to make a much more compelling case before they ordered up the drilling rig. The idea got across. BP's hit rate, two in three, is three times the industry average.

I liked this one.

Useful link:
www.bp.com

The Goldsmith – Jeweler Of Egypt

(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:

3. The Scarab

Perhaps the most treasured and most widely used of all luck-bringing symbols was the scarab—an image of little beetle. The beetles were wrought in gold, or modeled in clay and glazed with green, or carved from any sort of ornamental stone known to the ancients, from the very soft steatite to the precious ruby. Tiny scarabs, no larger than a fly, were carved from turquoise, and huge ones, a yard wide across the back, were cut in basalt. Scarabs were set in jewelry—neck ornaments, armlets, rings, etc. They were even set into furniture and into walls of houses. In fact, one could scarcely have too many scarabs to guard against the evils of life, and they were as necessary to the dead as to the living.

Funeral scarabs, inscribed on the flat base with a magic charm quoted from the Book of the Dead, were an indispensable part of the Egyptian burial rites. In the elaborate preparation of a mummy the heart was removed and for it was substituted a scarab. If the dead were of royal blood the scarab might be a carved ruby or an emerald; and many of the little beetles, unstrung and unset, were scattered among the winding cloths and bound fast to the mummy. It has been suggested that the great quantities of scarabs found among the wrappings of the dead were intended as fees, to be paid by the soul of the deceased to the doorkeepers of the other world.

The Egyptian name given to the sacred beetle was Kheptra, or Kheper, a title which stems from a word meaning ‘to become, to come into being.’ The Egyptians, supposing that there was no female beetle, believed that the male laid the eggs ans was thus alone responsible for the propagation of the species. Therefore the beetle was looked upon as an emblem of the self-begotten deity, Kheperi, who typifies the rising sun born anew each morning. Also, the emergence from the earth-bound grub and the upward flight of the beetle were like the soul leaving the body and ascending toward the heavens.

Starting in ancient Egypt, where the scarab had significance as a religious symbol, the custom of wearing scarabs spread into Phonecia, Etruria, and Greece. Indeed, in the course of centuries the scarab has found its way into many lands and become what seems to be a time defying motive of design for jewelry.

Most of us, today, regard a jewel from two angles only. We ask, is it beautiful? Is it rare and costly? Further than that we do not inquire. Nevertheless, there is great interest added to our jewelry when we can trace in unbroken sequence the history of its design or understand its symbolism, if it has any. ‘Mirrors of ancient feeling,’ one writer calls jewels of past ages; therefore we may regard the little scarab as a particularly clear mirror which has caught and held fast a reflection of the minds and hearts of men who lived in a world thousands of years younger than the world we know.

The Goldsmith – Jeweler Of Egypt (continued)

Sex, Money, Glamour, Tractors

Nora FitzGerald writes about Vladimir Dubossarsky + Alexander Vinogradov using the concept of socialist realism to comment on contemporary Russia + other viewpoints @ http://www.artnewsonline.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=2425

How Art Rose With The Dutch Republic

(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:

Rembrandt had had his fun, and now came the time to pay. Already money was beginning to be scarce, and his popularity as a portrait-painter was beginning to wane. In the year Saskia died Rembrandt had completed his great picture, the ‘Sortie’ or ‘Night Watch’ which though today the most popular of all his works and universally ranked among his greatest achievements, almost destroyed the contemporary reputation of the painter and began that decline of his fortunes which ended in his bankruptcy.

The subject of this picture is explicitly stated in an inscription on the back of an old copy of it in water color which is in a private collection in Holland: ‘The young Laird of Purmerlandt (Frans Banning Cocq) in his capacity as Captain gives to his Lieutenant, the Laird of Vlaerdingen, the command to march out his burgher company.’ This amply justifies the more correct title of ‘The Sortie,’ but the purpose and hour of this ‘going out’ of a company of civic militia are not easy to define. In the eighteenth century it was assumed to be a nocturnal watch turning out on its rounds by artificial light, hence the French name for the picture ‘Ronde de Nuit,’ which has been anglicised as ‘The Night Watch’. But as Prof Baldwin Brown of Edinburgh University justly pointed out, the time is ‘certainly the day and not the night. The shadow of the captain’s outstretched hand and arm is thrown by the sun upon the yellow dress of the second in command, and it is easy to see by the relative positions of object, and shadow that the sun is still pretty high in the heavens.’

Before we too hastily condemn those who condemned this splendid picture, we must put ourselves in their position. To see what Captain Banning Cocq and his friends expected we should turn back and look at Hal’s portrait group of the Guild of Archers. They expected to be painted like that, and Rembrandt painted them like this! In point of fact, Rembrandt did not paint them, he painted the scene. Hals shows a collection of individual officers, each of whom is clearly seen and recognizable. Rembrandt shows a patrol many of whose members are lost in shadow and unable to be identified. As a picture Rembrandt’s work has splendid qualities of drama, lighting, and movement which we cannot find in the Hals; but Captain Banning Cocq and his friends did not want to see these qualities, they wanted to see themselves. Rembrandt had painted a great picture, but he had dealt a heavy blow to human vanity, and his contemporaries could not forgive him.

It must be admitted that Rembrandt was wilful and wayward. He would go his own way, and he was only justified by the greatness of his genius. He was, as Dr Muther has said, ‘the first artist who, in the modern sense, did not execute commissions, but expressed his own thoughts. The emotions which moved his inmost being were the only things which he expressed on canvas. He does not seem to think that anyone is listening to him, but only speaks with himself; he is anxious, not to be understood by others, but only to express his moods and feelings.’

An interesting example of the liberties Rembrandt took with his nominal subject will be found in the Wallace Collection. The picture now known as ‘The Centurion Cornelius’ used to be called ‘The Unmerciful Sevant,’ and commentators explained that the figure in the turban and red robe was Christ, and enlarged on the displeasure shown in his face and the guilt and fear of the Unrighteous Servant, whom they took to be the central of the three figures to the right. Then a mezzotint by James Ward, published in 1800, was discovered. The red-robed figure proved to be Cornelius, in no way ‘displeased,’ while the remaining three figures are ‘two of his household servants, and a devout soldier of them that waited on him continually’ (Acts x.7). This widely-spread error shows how easy it is to misread pictures if they are approached with preconceived ideas. The misunderstanding, of course, has been brought about by Rembrandt’s fondness for oriental splendor, which led him to put Roman centurion in Asiatic costume! It is not ‘correct’ in the way that Alma-Tadema’s classical scenes are; but real greatness in art does not depend on accuracy of antiquarian details—however praiseworthy this may be—but on largeness of conception, noble design, and splendid color.

How Art Rose With The Dutch Republic (continued)

Chiff

(via Forbes) Chiff = Clever, High-quality, Innovative, Friendly, Fun.

Cranium, a Seattle board game company, uses Chiff, an in-house jargon word, to remind executives strive to remind themselves + their suppliers + their employees to be incessantly innovative, in everything from package design to the choice of questions for their brain-teasers.

I liked it.

Useful link:
www.cranium.com