China's National Bureau of Statistics on Thursday released an official data on country’s economic growth at 11.4 percent in 2007, the highest in 13 years + the inflation rate rose by 4.8 per cent in 2007, the highest level in more than a decade + the growth has brought China closer to edge past Germany as the world's third largest economy after the US and Japan because of its booming exports + pumping in of massive investment on infrastructure.
Useful link:
www.stats.gov.cn/english
Friday, January 25, 2008
Solazyme
Solazyme, a California biotech firm is betting algae is a fuel of the future + the company says Soladiesel will work in any diesel engine, in almost any climate + they say their technology combines all the key components: low carbon footprint + environmental sustainability + certified compatability with existing vehicles + infrastructure and energy security + they hope to mass produce Soladiesel at a competitive price within three years.
Useful link:
www.solazyme.com
Useful link:
www.solazyme.com
The Color Compendium
The Color Compendium by Augustine Hope + Margaret Walch is one of the most straightforward resources on color symbolism + it's user-friendly.
Here is what the description of The Color Compendium says (via Amazon):
The Color Compendium is the first comprehensive, illustrated encyclopedia entirely devoted to color. This extraordinary reference covers the full range of color-related subjects, including their scientific, technical, artistic, and historical aspects.
The Color Compendium features:
-An A to Z encyclopedia, extensively cross-referenced for easy access to all information
-A section of color systems, explaining their development and use- Sections on color communication and symbolism
-Biographies of leading historical and contemporary color theorists, and commentaries on their ideas
-A fully illustrated section of historic and twentieth century palettes and their source artifacts
Here is what the description of The Color Compendium says (via Amazon):
The Color Compendium is the first comprehensive, illustrated encyclopedia entirely devoted to color. This extraordinary reference covers the full range of color-related subjects, including their scientific, technical, artistic, and historical aspects.
The Color Compendium features:
-An A to Z encyclopedia, extensively cross-referenced for easy access to all information
-A section of color systems, explaining their development and use- Sections on color communication and symbolism
-Biographies of leading historical and contemporary color theorists, and commentaries on their ideas
-A fully illustrated section of historic and twentieth century palettes and their source artifacts
A R Rahman
A. R. Rahman is an award-winning composer + record producer + musician from India + he is one of the world's top 25 all-time top selling recording artists + his interest and outlook in music is said to stem from his love of experimentation covering a variety of genres.
Useful links:
www.arrahman.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._R._Rahman
Useful links:
www.arrahman.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._R._Rahman
Jewelers Directory
Here is an interesting concept: the just-launched European Jewellers Directory (EJD) is the brain child of former HRD marketing director Filip Van Laere + it offers listings of jewelers broken down by location, city size, type of goods sold and even scope of business @ www.jewellersdirectory.eu
John Currin
John Currin is an American painter + he is best known for satirical figurative paintings which deal with provocative sexual and social themes in a technically skillful manner + his work shows a wide range of influences, including sources as diverse as the Renaissance + popular culture magazines + contemporary fashion models + he often distorts or exaggerates the erotic forms of the female body.
Useful links:
http://www.gagosian.com/artists/john-currin
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Currin
Raw Art
http://www.newyorker.com/online/2008/01/28/slideshow_080128_currin
Useful links:
http://www.gagosian.com/artists/john-currin
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Currin
Raw Art
http://www.newyorker.com/online/2008/01/28/slideshow_080128_currin
Full Table Cuts With Blunt, Missing Or Broken Corners
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
Blunt and missing corners usually resulted from the cutter’s efforts to achieve maximum show, and were accepted even though they reduced the value of the gems. Only very rarely was a corner broken through careless handling. French inventories include the following terms: ayant tous ses coings; escorné ďun coing; escorné de deux petits coings; escorné de trois coings; escorné des quatre coings.
There is a mid-sixteenth-century cross (in the Schmuckmuseum, Pforzheim) in enamelled gold set with a number of second-rate Table diamonds, with irregular outlines and haphazard faceting. This indicates that they originated in the early fifteenth century, if not in the fourteenth, and were handed down. Similar diamonds can be seen in a number of seventeenth-century jewels; they were not fit for recutting and eventually (since they were cheap) they found applications in later jewelry of lesser value.
When Francis I established the French Crown Jewels in 1530 he chose as one of the eight pieces for the Treasury a large Table Cut diamond valued at 25000 écus. No weight was recorded but according to Sancy’s price list and estimations it must have weighed 25-26 ct. Later the king bought another, much larger, Full Table Cut diamond which was only added to the Treasury in 1559, by Francis II. This second Grande Table was listed as ‘une fort grande table de dyaman carréè, without any estimated value. A year later it was listed in the inventory as ‘une fort grande table de dyaman à pleine fons un peu longuet que achepta le roy François 1er et lui cousta 65000 écuś. Again using Sancy’s calculations, it can be estimated that this second Grande Table weighed a little over 40 ct and measured more than 20mm in width: it is said to have been one of the largest and most beautiful diamonds in Europe. In 1570 the Crown inventory described te stone as ‘une fort grande table de dyaman á plein fons un peu longuette escornèe de deux coings’, still worth 65000 écus. Catherine de’ Medici tried to pawn it in 1568 but it was refused at her valuation of 75000 écus. It was successfully pawned in 1583 to a Florentine banker called Rucellai, who eventually disposed of it; no trace of it has ever been discovered. It is possible that these two Grandes Tables, refashioned into Brilliants, are still somewhere in existence.
Full Table Cuts With Blunt, Missing Or Broken Corners (continued)
Blunt and missing corners usually resulted from the cutter’s efforts to achieve maximum show, and were accepted even though they reduced the value of the gems. Only very rarely was a corner broken through careless handling. French inventories include the following terms: ayant tous ses coings; escorné ďun coing; escorné de deux petits coings; escorné de trois coings; escorné des quatre coings.
There is a mid-sixteenth-century cross (in the Schmuckmuseum, Pforzheim) in enamelled gold set with a number of second-rate Table diamonds, with irregular outlines and haphazard faceting. This indicates that they originated in the early fifteenth century, if not in the fourteenth, and were handed down. Similar diamonds can be seen in a number of seventeenth-century jewels; they were not fit for recutting and eventually (since they were cheap) they found applications in later jewelry of lesser value.
When Francis I established the French Crown Jewels in 1530 he chose as one of the eight pieces for the Treasury a large Table Cut diamond valued at 25000 écus. No weight was recorded but according to Sancy’s price list and estimations it must have weighed 25-26 ct. Later the king bought another, much larger, Full Table Cut diamond which was only added to the Treasury in 1559, by Francis II. This second Grande Table was listed as ‘une fort grande table de dyaman carréè, without any estimated value. A year later it was listed in the inventory as ‘une fort grande table de dyaman à pleine fons un peu longuet que achepta le roy François 1er et lui cousta 65000 écuś. Again using Sancy’s calculations, it can be estimated that this second Grande Table weighed a little over 40 ct and measured more than 20mm in width: it is said to have been one of the largest and most beautiful diamonds in Europe. In 1570 the Crown inventory described te stone as ‘une fort grande table de dyaman á plein fons un peu longuette escornèe de deux coings’, still worth 65000 écus. Catherine de’ Medici tried to pawn it in 1568 but it was refused at her valuation of 75000 écus. It was successfully pawned in 1583 to a Florentine banker called Rucellai, who eventually disposed of it; no trace of it has ever been discovered. It is possible that these two Grandes Tables, refashioned into Brilliants, are still somewhere in existence.
Full Table Cuts With Blunt, Missing Or Broken Corners (continued)
Jewelers Of Italy
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
8. Byzantine Jewelry
When Constantine the Great, in 330 A.D had transferred the center of imperial power to Constantinople, the jewelers of the Empire were brought into contact with the great wealth of material and opulence of Oriental ornament. They were strongly influenced by it. Greco-Roman jewelry now lost its classical character and comparative simplicity and took on gorgeous color and Oriental symbolism. From the combined influences of Europe and the Orient developed Byzantine jewelry, whose characteristics were destined to last through the greater part of the Middle Ages.
Every once in a while during various periods of history the work of the jeweler has impinged on that of the clothier. Jewelry has been worn not only as an accessory but in the form of gold embroidery and insets of precious stones as an integral part of the garment itself. Such a period came in the sixth century. Of course only the very rich might indulge in the luxury and the very questionable comfort of these bejeweled garments.
In the Roman court at Constantinople, Justinian and his wife, Theodora, wore robes stiff with jewels. In their gorgeous, heavily weighted costumes there was no trace left of the soft-flowing Greek and Roman garments of earlier times. Theodora wore an elaborate diadem hung with precious stones. Ropes of pearls and emeralds encircled her throat and lay weightily upon her shoulders; and Justinian himself was scarcely outdone in splendor of jewels by his wife.
‘By the sixth century,’ says H G Wells, ‘the population of Europe and North Africa had been stirred up like sediment.’ And even when, in the course of the next two centuries the ‘sediment’ was allowed to settle down enough for various peoples to take on national characteristics, their jewelry was slow to develop any strongly localized individuality. Wherever the East and the West had mingled, the splendor of the Orient, with its symbolic mysticism, had left its mark on the jewelry of the country.
As the fabulous wealth in jewels grew, it rose like sparkling bubbles in a boiling pot to the top ranges of society, while the daily life of the common man grew ever more poverty stricken.
During miserable Dark Ages, famine and plague, always close comrades, stalked the earth together. The seventh century was one of the blackest periods of history. Bands of robbers unchecked by authority added their quota to terror and misery and no man by himself was safe. The few goldsmiths and lapidaries who had escaped with their lives either sought the protection of some powerful lord or joined certain other men who, gathering together in groups for mutual protection, lived apart in monasteries, devoting their lives to the new religion, Christianity, and to the preservation of various arts. These men were the monks. Each one was required to practise an art or a handicraft, and many of them were expert goldsmith.
Thus, in small havens of peace and safety, many knowledges of technique and art were preserved which otherwise would have been lost in the black chaos of the Dark Ages.
In the eighth century, under a decree issued by the Byzantine Emperor Leo, the Isaurian, there began an orgy of destruction aimed chiefly at the sacred images so numerously set in in the Christian Churches. Man’s inherent lust for destruction seems unquenchable, and when backed and encouraged by authority the joy smashing knows no bounds. Unhappily similar periods of delight have been frequent in history and are in force even at the present time.
With such fervent zeal did the iconoclast crusaders carry on their mission that even the artists and goldsmiths who made the offending images were included in the general havoc and had to flee for their lives. ‘The woods and caves,’ says one old record, ‘were filled with them.’
Many of them fled to France and to Germany. In Rome, monasteries welcomed the refugees and straightway set them to work, each man according to his own craft. And so it was that throughout the various countries giving asylum to artists, the Byzantine influence was brought to bear upon the arts and crafts of those countries.
8. Byzantine Jewelry
When Constantine the Great, in 330 A.D had transferred the center of imperial power to Constantinople, the jewelers of the Empire were brought into contact with the great wealth of material and opulence of Oriental ornament. They were strongly influenced by it. Greco-Roman jewelry now lost its classical character and comparative simplicity and took on gorgeous color and Oriental symbolism. From the combined influences of Europe and the Orient developed Byzantine jewelry, whose characteristics were destined to last through the greater part of the Middle Ages.
Every once in a while during various periods of history the work of the jeweler has impinged on that of the clothier. Jewelry has been worn not only as an accessory but in the form of gold embroidery and insets of precious stones as an integral part of the garment itself. Such a period came in the sixth century. Of course only the very rich might indulge in the luxury and the very questionable comfort of these bejeweled garments.
In the Roman court at Constantinople, Justinian and his wife, Theodora, wore robes stiff with jewels. In their gorgeous, heavily weighted costumes there was no trace left of the soft-flowing Greek and Roman garments of earlier times. Theodora wore an elaborate diadem hung with precious stones. Ropes of pearls and emeralds encircled her throat and lay weightily upon her shoulders; and Justinian himself was scarcely outdone in splendor of jewels by his wife.
‘By the sixth century,’ says H G Wells, ‘the population of Europe and North Africa had been stirred up like sediment.’ And even when, in the course of the next two centuries the ‘sediment’ was allowed to settle down enough for various peoples to take on national characteristics, their jewelry was slow to develop any strongly localized individuality. Wherever the East and the West had mingled, the splendor of the Orient, with its symbolic mysticism, had left its mark on the jewelry of the country.
As the fabulous wealth in jewels grew, it rose like sparkling bubbles in a boiling pot to the top ranges of society, while the daily life of the common man grew ever more poverty stricken.
During miserable Dark Ages, famine and plague, always close comrades, stalked the earth together. The seventh century was one of the blackest periods of history. Bands of robbers unchecked by authority added their quota to terror and misery and no man by himself was safe. The few goldsmiths and lapidaries who had escaped with their lives either sought the protection of some powerful lord or joined certain other men who, gathering together in groups for mutual protection, lived apart in monasteries, devoting their lives to the new religion, Christianity, and to the preservation of various arts. These men were the monks. Each one was required to practise an art or a handicraft, and many of them were expert goldsmith.
Thus, in small havens of peace and safety, many knowledges of technique and art were preserved which otherwise would have been lost in the black chaos of the Dark Ages.
In the eighth century, under a decree issued by the Byzantine Emperor Leo, the Isaurian, there began an orgy of destruction aimed chiefly at the sacred images so numerously set in in the Christian Churches. Man’s inherent lust for destruction seems unquenchable, and when backed and encouraged by authority the joy smashing knows no bounds. Unhappily similar periods of delight have been frequent in history and are in force even at the present time.
With such fervent zeal did the iconoclast crusaders carry on their mission that even the artists and goldsmiths who made the offending images were included in the general havoc and had to flee for their lives. ‘The woods and caves,’ says one old record, ‘were filled with them.’
Many of them fled to France and to Germany. In Rome, monasteries welcomed the refugees and straightway set them to work, each man according to his own craft. And so it was that throughout the various countries giving asylum to artists, the Byzantine influence was brought to bear upon the arts and crafts of those countries.
English Masters Of The Eighteenth Century
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
3
When Richard Wilson was already learning the business of portrait-painting in London, Joshua Reynolds was a little boy of six. He also was the son of a clergyman, the Rev. Samuel Reynolds of Plympton Earl, near Plymouth, where Joshua, the seventh son, was born on July 16, 1723. Sir Godfrey Kneller died the same year.
Nature and Fortune were both kind to Reynolds; the first endowed him with courtly manners as well as talent, the second gave him opportunities to use these to the best advantage. Doubtless Reynolds would have made his way to the front, by one path if not by another, but it was a piece of good luck for him when the Commodore Keppel of the Centurion put in at Plymouth for repairs, and met the young painter at the house of Lord Mount –Edgcumbe. Keppel took a liking to the painter and offered him a free passage on his ship to the Mediterranean. Reynolds gladly accepted, and after a long stay with Keppel at Minorca, went on to Rome, where he gave himself up to that worship of Michael Angelo that he retained all his life. His well-known deafness dates from this early period, and was the result of a cold which he caught while copying at the Vatican.
From Rome, Reynolds went to Florence, Venice, and other Italian cities, returning to England in 1753, and then he settled in London, never to leave it again except for a holiday. His younger sister Frances kept house for him, and he never married; like Michael Angelo, the object of his worship, Reynolds said he was ‘wedded to his art.’ After living for a time at 104 St Martin’s Lane, and then at 5 Great Newport Street, he made his permanent home at 47 Leicester Square, and Messrs. Puttick & Simpson now hold their auctions in the room that was once his studio.
Reynolds did not capture the town at first assault; the deep richness of the coloring he had adopted from the Venetian masters, and the atmospheric contours of his forms, did not appeal to connoisseurs accustomed to the lighter color and harder outlines of Kneller; but supported by the influence of Lord Mount-Edgcumbe and Admiral Keppel, he gradually became acknowledged as the head of his profession. When the Royal Academy was founded, his appointment as President met with universal approbation, for it was felt that no painter could fill the office so well. Reynolds, as Mr E V Lucas points out, ‘was sought not only for his brush, but also for his company; and though he did not court high society, he was sensible of the advantages it gave him. Other and finer intellects also welcomed him—such as Dr Johnson, Burke, and Goldsmith—and his house became a center of good talk.’
Reynolds was not only a great painter, but a great gentleman, for long before the King knighted him in 1769, five days before the opening of the first Academy exhibition, he had shown court and society ‘that a painter could be a wise man and a considerable man as well.’
The story of Sir Joshua’s life is not dramatic; it is the placid, smoothly running story of his art, of well-chosen friendships, of kindly actions, occasional displays of professional jealousy—for he was human and not an angel—and of a happy domestic life. When his brother-in-law Mr Palmer died in 1770, Sir Joshua adopted his daughter Theophila, then thirteen, and later her sister Mary Palmer also came to live with him, so that though a bachelor Reynolds was not without young people in his house. Both his nieces remained with him till they married, and it was Theophila’s daughter, little Theophila Gwatkin, who was the original of one of Reynold’s most charming and popular paintings, ‘The Age of Innocence.’
His grand-niece was six years old when Reynolds, in 1788, painted her portrait, a work which in conception and in every touch proclaims that it was ‘a labor of love.’ Indeed, nowhere do the simplicity, the benevolence, and the affectionate nature of the man shine out more beautifully than in his paintings of children. Splendid and decorative in its color-scheme and open air setting, his ‘Mrs Richard Hoare with her Infant Son’ in the Wallace Collection has the same winning simplicity of intention; for it is much more than a mere portrait, it is a grave and tender expression of a mother’s love. The other side of Sir Joshua’s art, ‘the grand manner,’ is seen in the famous ‘Mrs Siddons as the Tragic Muse’ and in ‘Miss Emily Pott as Thais’. This was the side most admired by his contemporaries, and we must admit that Reynolds had a rare power of dramatic presentation, which found its happiest outlet when he was dealing with contemporary subjects. ‘The Tragic Muse’ is something of a wreck today, because in his desire to emulate the deep, rich coloring of the Venetians, Reynolds made use of bitumen, a pigment which gives brilliant immediate results but never dries, and in time trickles down a canvas in channels, ruining its surface. This pigment, which liquefies like asphalt when the sun is hot, is chiefly responsible for the poor condition today of many paintings by Reynolds, and it must be admitted that as a craftsman he was not so particular as Wilson and Hogarth, who were more careful in their choice of pigments.
When Sir Joshua was sixty six he lost the sight of his left eye and from this calamity and the dread of losing the other, which was threatened, he never recovered. For three years he lingered on, seeing his friends and bearing his infirmity with fortitude, but the will to live was gone when he could no longer practice his art with assurance. He died on February 23, 1792, and was buried in state at St Paul’s Cathedral.
‘I know of no man who has passed through life with more observation than Reynolds,’ said Dr Johnson; ‘when Reynolds tells me anything, I consider myself as possessed of an idea the more.’ Sir Joshua himself was distinguished by his literary abilities, and his ‘Discourses on Painting,’ which formed his yearly address to the students of the Royal Academy, are treasured and read today both for their literary merit and their instructive art teaching.
3
When Richard Wilson was already learning the business of portrait-painting in London, Joshua Reynolds was a little boy of six. He also was the son of a clergyman, the Rev. Samuel Reynolds of Plympton Earl, near Plymouth, where Joshua, the seventh son, was born on July 16, 1723. Sir Godfrey Kneller died the same year.
Nature and Fortune were both kind to Reynolds; the first endowed him with courtly manners as well as talent, the second gave him opportunities to use these to the best advantage. Doubtless Reynolds would have made his way to the front, by one path if not by another, but it was a piece of good luck for him when the Commodore Keppel of the Centurion put in at Plymouth for repairs, and met the young painter at the house of Lord Mount –Edgcumbe. Keppel took a liking to the painter and offered him a free passage on his ship to the Mediterranean. Reynolds gladly accepted, and after a long stay with Keppel at Minorca, went on to Rome, where he gave himself up to that worship of Michael Angelo that he retained all his life. His well-known deafness dates from this early period, and was the result of a cold which he caught while copying at the Vatican.
From Rome, Reynolds went to Florence, Venice, and other Italian cities, returning to England in 1753, and then he settled in London, never to leave it again except for a holiday. His younger sister Frances kept house for him, and he never married; like Michael Angelo, the object of his worship, Reynolds said he was ‘wedded to his art.’ After living for a time at 104 St Martin’s Lane, and then at 5 Great Newport Street, he made his permanent home at 47 Leicester Square, and Messrs. Puttick & Simpson now hold their auctions in the room that was once his studio.
Reynolds did not capture the town at first assault; the deep richness of the coloring he had adopted from the Venetian masters, and the atmospheric contours of his forms, did not appeal to connoisseurs accustomed to the lighter color and harder outlines of Kneller; but supported by the influence of Lord Mount-Edgcumbe and Admiral Keppel, he gradually became acknowledged as the head of his profession. When the Royal Academy was founded, his appointment as President met with universal approbation, for it was felt that no painter could fill the office so well. Reynolds, as Mr E V Lucas points out, ‘was sought not only for his brush, but also for his company; and though he did not court high society, he was sensible of the advantages it gave him. Other and finer intellects also welcomed him—such as Dr Johnson, Burke, and Goldsmith—and his house became a center of good talk.’
Reynolds was not only a great painter, but a great gentleman, for long before the King knighted him in 1769, five days before the opening of the first Academy exhibition, he had shown court and society ‘that a painter could be a wise man and a considerable man as well.’
The story of Sir Joshua’s life is not dramatic; it is the placid, smoothly running story of his art, of well-chosen friendships, of kindly actions, occasional displays of professional jealousy—for he was human and not an angel—and of a happy domestic life. When his brother-in-law Mr Palmer died in 1770, Sir Joshua adopted his daughter Theophila, then thirteen, and later her sister Mary Palmer also came to live with him, so that though a bachelor Reynolds was not without young people in his house. Both his nieces remained with him till they married, and it was Theophila’s daughter, little Theophila Gwatkin, who was the original of one of Reynold’s most charming and popular paintings, ‘The Age of Innocence.’
His grand-niece was six years old when Reynolds, in 1788, painted her portrait, a work which in conception and in every touch proclaims that it was ‘a labor of love.’ Indeed, nowhere do the simplicity, the benevolence, and the affectionate nature of the man shine out more beautifully than in his paintings of children. Splendid and decorative in its color-scheme and open air setting, his ‘Mrs Richard Hoare with her Infant Son’ in the Wallace Collection has the same winning simplicity of intention; for it is much more than a mere portrait, it is a grave and tender expression of a mother’s love. The other side of Sir Joshua’s art, ‘the grand manner,’ is seen in the famous ‘Mrs Siddons as the Tragic Muse’ and in ‘Miss Emily Pott as Thais’. This was the side most admired by his contemporaries, and we must admit that Reynolds had a rare power of dramatic presentation, which found its happiest outlet when he was dealing with contemporary subjects. ‘The Tragic Muse’ is something of a wreck today, because in his desire to emulate the deep, rich coloring of the Venetians, Reynolds made use of bitumen, a pigment which gives brilliant immediate results but never dries, and in time trickles down a canvas in channels, ruining its surface. This pigment, which liquefies like asphalt when the sun is hot, is chiefly responsible for the poor condition today of many paintings by Reynolds, and it must be admitted that as a craftsman he was not so particular as Wilson and Hogarth, who were more careful in their choice of pigments.
When Sir Joshua was sixty six he lost the sight of his left eye and from this calamity and the dread of losing the other, which was threatened, he never recovered. For three years he lingered on, seeing his friends and bearing his infirmity with fortitude, but the will to live was gone when he could no longer practice his art with assurance. He died on February 23, 1792, and was buried in state at St Paul’s Cathedral.
‘I know of no man who has passed through life with more observation than Reynolds,’ said Dr Johnson; ‘when Reynolds tells me anything, I consider myself as possessed of an idea the more.’ Sir Joshua himself was distinguished by his literary abilities, and his ‘Discourses on Painting,’ which formed his yearly address to the students of the Royal Academy, are treasured and read today both for their literary merit and their instructive art teaching.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Pachyrhynchus Argus
According to Andrew Parker, an evolutionary biologist at the University of Oxford in England, the weevil, Pachyrhynchus argus, has patches of scales on the top and sides of its body, some of which contain structures that resemble the spheres in opals + he believes that understanding how the beetle manufactures the tiny structures in its scales may benefit jewelers seeking a less expensive opal + the computer and telecommunications industries seeking to manufacture tiny electronics.
Useful links:
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2004/01/0112_040112_opalbeetle.html
http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v426/n6968/full/426786a.html
Useful links:
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2004/01/0112_040112_opalbeetle.html
http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v426/n6968/full/426786a.html
Heard On The Street
There is a big lesson to be learnt from the current market meltdown + if you are greedy, there is always someone to exploit your greed + reflect on the past and you will know what a sucker you have been + Mark Twain said it first: 'A man who tries to carry a cat home by its tail will learn a lesson that can be learned in no other way.'
The Jura, France
Anne Glusker writes about the weekend festivities in the Jura mountains of eastern France + The Percée du Vin Jaune, the opening of the latest batch of this cult wine + the unique experience + other viewpoints @ http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/01/21/travel/jura.php
Social Entrepreneurs
The Economist writes about the extraordinarily diverse bunch of social entrepreneurs doing interesting things + finding inspiration from each other + their partnerships with governments + the impact + other viewpoints @ http://www.economist.com/daily/columns/businessview/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10555875
Useful link:
www.schwabfound.org
Useful link:
www.schwabfound.org
Boucheron's 150th: A Modern Take On Art Nouveau
Suzy Menkes writes about Boucheron's 150th anniversary celebration + the magic mix and match of gemstones with paintings and sculptures + the unique three-dimensional designs with that otherness + history and other viewpoints @ http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/01/21/style/rbouch.php
Useful link:
www.boucheron.com
Useful link:
www.boucheron.com
Effective Forecasting
Paul Saffo is a futurist + he believes that anyone can sharpen their predictive skills with a few key concepts - ranging from looking for odd trends to knowing when not to make a forecast + here is an article in the Harvard Business Review .
Useful links:
www.saffo.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Saffo
Useful links:
www.saffo.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Saffo
Color + Human Response
Color & Human Response: Aspects Of Light And Color Bearing On The Reactions Of Living Things And The Welfare Of Human Beings by Faber Birren is an excellent tool for gaining + understanding the broad implications of color's effects on humans + I think colored stone dealers + jewelers should go the extra mile to learn + practice the concept so that they are able to connect the dots with real people.
Here is what the description of Color & Human Response says (via Amazon):
Here is a major work by one of the best-known color authorities in the world. Faber Bitten pioneered in the field of 'functional' color, using color properties to promote human welfare psychologically, visually, and physiologically; in this volume he has assembled a wealth of information on the subject. Color and Human Response offers intriguing factual and hypothetical observations on the influences of color in life, supported by historical references and the latest scientific data. Birren explores the biological, visual, emotional, aesthetic, and psychic responses to color — referring both to ancient symbolic uses of color as well as its application in the modern environment. His specifications for color in homes, offices, hospitals, and schools are geared toward relieving modem tensions and anxieties. Complete with drawings, color photographs, and a chapter on the personal meaning of color preferences, Color and Human Response will fascinate anyone concerned with the human environment, including scientists and psychologists. It has become a basic reference for architects, teachers, and interior and industrial designers.
Here is what the description of Color & Human Response says (via Amazon):
Here is a major work by one of the best-known color authorities in the world. Faber Bitten pioneered in the field of 'functional' color, using color properties to promote human welfare psychologically, visually, and physiologically; in this volume he has assembled a wealth of information on the subject. Color and Human Response offers intriguing factual and hypothetical observations on the influences of color in life, supported by historical references and the latest scientific data. Birren explores the biological, visual, emotional, aesthetic, and psychic responses to color — referring both to ancient symbolic uses of color as well as its application in the modern environment. His specifications for color in homes, offices, hospitals, and schools are geared toward relieving modem tensions and anxieties. Complete with drawings, color photographs, and a chapter on the personal meaning of color preferences, Color and Human Response will fascinate anyone concerned with the human environment, including scientists and psychologists. It has become a basic reference for architects, teachers, and interior and industrial designers.
Karlheinz Stockhausen
Karlheinz Stockhausen was a German composer, widely acknowledged as one of the most important but also controversial composers of the 20th century + he is known for his ground-breaking work in electronic music and aleatory (controlled chance) in serial composition + he is perceived as one of the great visionaries of 20th-century music + I think the Licht project which purports to deal with life, death, man and salvation in a universal setting was unique + I enjoyed it.
Useful links:
www.stockhausen.org
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karlheinz_Stockhausen
Useful links:
www.stockhausen.org
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karlheinz_Stockhausen
Jewelers Of Italy
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
7. Decline Of The Glyptic Art
Scarcely more than one hundred years after the death of Pliny the Roman Empire was well on its way to the final crash. The arts, including glyptic art, were keeping pace downhill with the falling Empire.
Not that there was any lack of demand for engraved gems; wealthy Romans were spending exorbitant sums for them. But interest was centered not on excellence of design or technique but on the mystic significance and magical powers of the symbols engraved on the ring stones and beads. The rich man was not buying art. He was buying magic. In consequence, the work of the gem engraver grew careless and indifferent; speed in engraving the symbols was of more importance than quality of workmanship.
An uneasy sense of impending doom has a tendency to drive us, groping for escape, toward realms supernatural. The crystal-gazer and the astrologer did a thriving business in fortune-telling and prophecy. Zodiacal symbols invoking the influences of the stars were considered particularly potent. All classes, rich and poor, wore amulets of one sort or another.
In early times, what we call the ‘rank materialist’ was almost non-existent. Practically everybody believed in one or another of the many forms of superstition then current. Nevertheless there were those who craved some semblance at least of reasonable basis for belief.
There came into being a cult known as ‘Gnosticism,’ which means, knowledge of spiritual mysteries. The Gnostics believed that originally all things of the terrestrial and celestial universe had been created in an orderly harmony, that this true order had been destroyed but eventually would be restored. They sought control of occult influences through knowledge of the mystic powers of numbers, words, substances, and forms. In their quest for omniscience they impartially embraced mythology, both Greek and Oriental, the Christian and Jewish religions, philosophy, magic and as much science as was available.
Gnosticism spread fast and far. Naturally it was bound to find reflection in gems and the demand for stones engraved with the magic symbols of the Gnostics grew to such proportions that whole factories were devoted to their production. A favorite device was an image called Abraxas. The figure has the head of a cock, the body of a man, and legs which are serpents. In one hand is a shield and in the other a whip. So involved is the significance of any Gnostic symbol that authorities differ as to its meanings and we shall not attempt to unravel them here.
But to return to what was happening concerning gems in general. Silks and spices from China, furs from the forests of Scythia, and jewels from all parts of the Orient were eagerly bought up by the Romans. Says Gibbons: ‘The most remote countries of the ancient world were ransacked to supply the pomp and delicacy of Rome. Amber was brought overland from the shores of the Baltic to the Danube, and the barbarians were astonished at the price they received for so useless a commodity.’
Presently hordes of the barbarians from the North were themselves gravitating toward the Mediterranean, plundering as they went, and living on the country.
With the first great waves of Germanic tribes that swept the Roman Empire in the third century, there began a curious intermingling of the peoples of Europe which had a direct effect on all the arts of the time. And during the next few hundred years, owing to the diversity of influences brought about by warring nations and conflicting religions, the whole character of jewelry underwent a change.
Jewelers Of Italy (continued)
7. Decline Of The Glyptic Art
Scarcely more than one hundred years after the death of Pliny the Roman Empire was well on its way to the final crash. The arts, including glyptic art, were keeping pace downhill with the falling Empire.
Not that there was any lack of demand for engraved gems; wealthy Romans were spending exorbitant sums for them. But interest was centered not on excellence of design or technique but on the mystic significance and magical powers of the symbols engraved on the ring stones and beads. The rich man was not buying art. He was buying magic. In consequence, the work of the gem engraver grew careless and indifferent; speed in engraving the symbols was of more importance than quality of workmanship.
An uneasy sense of impending doom has a tendency to drive us, groping for escape, toward realms supernatural. The crystal-gazer and the astrologer did a thriving business in fortune-telling and prophecy. Zodiacal symbols invoking the influences of the stars were considered particularly potent. All classes, rich and poor, wore amulets of one sort or another.
In early times, what we call the ‘rank materialist’ was almost non-existent. Practically everybody believed in one or another of the many forms of superstition then current. Nevertheless there were those who craved some semblance at least of reasonable basis for belief.
There came into being a cult known as ‘Gnosticism,’ which means, knowledge of spiritual mysteries. The Gnostics believed that originally all things of the terrestrial and celestial universe had been created in an orderly harmony, that this true order had been destroyed but eventually would be restored. They sought control of occult influences through knowledge of the mystic powers of numbers, words, substances, and forms. In their quest for omniscience they impartially embraced mythology, both Greek and Oriental, the Christian and Jewish religions, philosophy, magic and as much science as was available.
Gnosticism spread fast and far. Naturally it was bound to find reflection in gems and the demand for stones engraved with the magic symbols of the Gnostics grew to such proportions that whole factories were devoted to their production. A favorite device was an image called Abraxas. The figure has the head of a cock, the body of a man, and legs which are serpents. In one hand is a shield and in the other a whip. So involved is the significance of any Gnostic symbol that authorities differ as to its meanings and we shall not attempt to unravel them here.
But to return to what was happening concerning gems in general. Silks and spices from China, furs from the forests of Scythia, and jewels from all parts of the Orient were eagerly bought up by the Romans. Says Gibbons: ‘The most remote countries of the ancient world were ransacked to supply the pomp and delicacy of Rome. Amber was brought overland from the shores of the Baltic to the Danube, and the barbarians were astonished at the price they received for so useless a commodity.’
Presently hordes of the barbarians from the North were themselves gravitating toward the Mediterranean, plundering as they went, and living on the country.
With the first great waves of Germanic tribes that swept the Roman Empire in the third century, there began a curious intermingling of the peoples of Europe which had a direct effect on all the arts of the time. And during the next few hundred years, owing to the diversity of influences brought about by warring nations and conflicting religions, the whole character of jewelry underwent a change.
Jewelers Of Italy (continued)
English Masters Of The Eighteenth Century
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
2
The greatest of Hogarth’s contemporaries, the link indeed between him and Sir Joshua Reynolds, was the artist known as ‘The Father of British Landscape,’ Richard Wilson. His is one of the saddest stories in British Art, for, though acknowledged to be one of the most eminent men of his day, and attaining a modest measure of success in middle life, fortune, through no fault of his own, turned her back on him, and his later years were spent in the direst poverty.
Richard Wilson was born at Penegoes in Montgomeryshire on August 1, 1744, the day Queen Anne died and George I ascended the throne. His father was a clergyman of limited means, but his mother was well connected, and one of her well-off relatives took sufficient interest in young Richard’s talent for drawing to have him sent to London to learn painting. Though it is by his landscapes that Wilson acquired lasting fame, he began life as a portrait-painter; one of his earlier portraits of himself is in the National Gallery, while a very much later portrait, is in the Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy. This magnificent work which speaks for itself, is enough to prove that even in portrait-painting Wilson had, among his immediate predecessors, no equal saving Hogarth.
Like Hogarth, Wilson was a sturdy, independent disposition, little inclined to truckle to the conceit of fashionable sitters or to flatter their vanity, and consequently he was not the man to make it the staff of his professional practice, though in 1748 he had acquired a considerable practice, though in 1748 he had acquired a considerable eminence in this branch of art. IN this year he was commissioned to paint a group of the Prince of Wales and Duke of York with their tutor—a portion of which now hangs in the National Portrait Gallery—and with the money earned by this and other commissions he decided in the following year to carry out a long cherished wish to visit Italy.
Hitherto there has been a general belief that Wilson did not attempt landscape painting till he found himself in Italy, but it has recently been ascertained that he unquestionably painted landscapes before he left England.
In Italy Wilson devoted more and more of his time to landscape till he finally established himself in Rome as a landscape-painter, only doing an occasional portrait. His beautiful pictures of Italian landscapes, in which dignity of design was combined with atmospheric truth and loveliness of color, soon gained him a great reputation in that city, and his landscapes were bought by the Earl of Pembroke, the Earl of Thanet, the Earl of Essex, Lord Bolingbroke, Lord Dartmouth, and other Englishmen of high rank who were visiting Italy. Consequently, when he returned to England in 1756, his reputation preceded him and he enjoyed a considerable measure of success when he first established himself in London at Covent Garden. But unfortunately for Wilson, the taste of the eighteenth century was severely classical, and after the first novelty of his Italian landscapes wore off, only one or two enlightened patrons, like Sir Richard Ford, were capable of appreciating the originality and beauty of the landscapes he painted in England. Thanks to the discrimination of Sir Richard and Lady Ford, the best collection in the world of landscapes by Richard Wilson is still in the possession of the family. It is only in the Ford Collection that the full measure of Wilson’s greatness can be seen, for while the splendor of the flaming sunset sky in ‘The Tiber, with Rome in the Distance’ reveals how Wilson showed the way to Turner, the sweet simplicity and natural beauty of ‘The Thames near Twickenham’ proves him also to have been the artistic ancestor of Constable.
Wilson’s English landscapes went begging in his own day. His memorandum-book, preserved in the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington, shows how he sent them out on approval and often had them returned. As his fortunes dwindled, Wilson despairingly set about painting replicas of the Italian landscapes which he had found more saleable, and these repetitions of his Italian scenes have done much harm to his reputation in succeeding years, for the later Italian pictures do not always attain the quality of the first version when the painter was freshly inspired by the original scenery.
Nevertheless, with the help of one or two unaffected lovers of art and Nature, who bought his English landscapes, and more who bought repetitions of his Italian scenes, and with the fees of his pupils—among whom was the diarist, Joseph Farington, R.A—Wilson managed for some years to make a tolerable living, and when the Royal Academy was established in 1768, George III—who in his boyhood had had his portrait done by this landscape painter—nominated Richard Wilson as one of the founder members of the Academy. At the Academy exhibitions Wilson with credit, if without much commercial success, and nothing serious happened till 1776, when he sent a picture of ‘Sion House from Kew Gardens,’ which the King thought of buying.
Unfortunately he sent Lord Bute to bargain with the artist, and this canny nobleman thought the price asked, sixty guineas, was ‘too dear’. ‘Tell His Majesty,’ said Wilson roguishly, ‘that he may pay for it by instalments.’ Had an Irish peer been the intermediary he might have seen the joke and have made Wilson’s fortune, but Lord Bute belonged to a race that is reputed to take money very seriously, and to be not too quick at grasping the English sense of humor. He was shocked and scandalized, deeming the answer insulting to royalty.
The harmless gibe cost Wilson what little Court favor he had, and proved to be his ruin. Fortunately, before this disastrous retort had been made, he had secured the Librarianship of the Royal Academy, and the salary of this post, fifty pounds a year, was all Wilson had to live on during his later years. His few patrons fell away from him, his brother Academicians—most of whom had been rather jealous—now shunned him, and he lived in a miserable garret in Tottenham Street, Tottenham Court Road, existing chiefly on bread and porter. He had always been fond of the last—‘though not to excess,’ said Beechey, R.A., who knew him intimately—and want of nourishment rather than excess of liquor wrought sad changes in his countenance, so that he became known as ‘red-nosed Dick.’
Just before the end he had a year or two of quiet and comfort, for he left London and made his home with his relatives in Wales, where he died, at Llanberis, in 1782. Wilson did not altogether abandon portrait-painting when he returned from Italy, and in addition to the noble portrait of himself, there is in the Academy’s Diploma Gallery a very beautiful full-length of the young artist Mortimer, whom he painted about the same time. A splendid portrait of Peg Woffington, very rich in color, which hangs in the Garrick Club, is another example of Wilson’s portraiture after his return from Italy.
Richard Wilson was the first English artist to show his countrymen not only the beauty of Nature but the beauty of their own country. He should not be judged by such large pictures as ‘Niobe’ and ‘The Villa of Mæcenas,’ which he painted ‘to order,’ but rather—so far as the National Gallery is concerned—by his exquisite ‘Italian Coast Scene’ and ‘On the Wye,’ which together show how beautifully and truly Wilson rendered the characteristic scenery of the two countries he so deeply loved.
English Masters Of The Eighteenth Century (continued)
2
The greatest of Hogarth’s contemporaries, the link indeed between him and Sir Joshua Reynolds, was the artist known as ‘The Father of British Landscape,’ Richard Wilson. His is one of the saddest stories in British Art, for, though acknowledged to be one of the most eminent men of his day, and attaining a modest measure of success in middle life, fortune, through no fault of his own, turned her back on him, and his later years were spent in the direst poverty.
Richard Wilson was born at Penegoes in Montgomeryshire on August 1, 1744, the day Queen Anne died and George I ascended the throne. His father was a clergyman of limited means, but his mother was well connected, and one of her well-off relatives took sufficient interest in young Richard’s talent for drawing to have him sent to London to learn painting. Though it is by his landscapes that Wilson acquired lasting fame, he began life as a portrait-painter; one of his earlier portraits of himself is in the National Gallery, while a very much later portrait, is in the Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy. This magnificent work which speaks for itself, is enough to prove that even in portrait-painting Wilson had, among his immediate predecessors, no equal saving Hogarth.
Like Hogarth, Wilson was a sturdy, independent disposition, little inclined to truckle to the conceit of fashionable sitters or to flatter their vanity, and consequently he was not the man to make it the staff of his professional practice, though in 1748 he had acquired a considerable practice, though in 1748 he had acquired a considerable eminence in this branch of art. IN this year he was commissioned to paint a group of the Prince of Wales and Duke of York with their tutor—a portion of which now hangs in the National Portrait Gallery—and with the money earned by this and other commissions he decided in the following year to carry out a long cherished wish to visit Italy.
Hitherto there has been a general belief that Wilson did not attempt landscape painting till he found himself in Italy, but it has recently been ascertained that he unquestionably painted landscapes before he left England.
In Italy Wilson devoted more and more of his time to landscape till he finally established himself in Rome as a landscape-painter, only doing an occasional portrait. His beautiful pictures of Italian landscapes, in which dignity of design was combined with atmospheric truth and loveliness of color, soon gained him a great reputation in that city, and his landscapes were bought by the Earl of Pembroke, the Earl of Thanet, the Earl of Essex, Lord Bolingbroke, Lord Dartmouth, and other Englishmen of high rank who were visiting Italy. Consequently, when he returned to England in 1756, his reputation preceded him and he enjoyed a considerable measure of success when he first established himself in London at Covent Garden. But unfortunately for Wilson, the taste of the eighteenth century was severely classical, and after the first novelty of his Italian landscapes wore off, only one or two enlightened patrons, like Sir Richard Ford, were capable of appreciating the originality and beauty of the landscapes he painted in England. Thanks to the discrimination of Sir Richard and Lady Ford, the best collection in the world of landscapes by Richard Wilson is still in the possession of the family. It is only in the Ford Collection that the full measure of Wilson’s greatness can be seen, for while the splendor of the flaming sunset sky in ‘The Tiber, with Rome in the Distance’ reveals how Wilson showed the way to Turner, the sweet simplicity and natural beauty of ‘The Thames near Twickenham’ proves him also to have been the artistic ancestor of Constable.
Wilson’s English landscapes went begging in his own day. His memorandum-book, preserved in the Victoria and Albert Museum, South Kensington, shows how he sent them out on approval and often had them returned. As his fortunes dwindled, Wilson despairingly set about painting replicas of the Italian landscapes which he had found more saleable, and these repetitions of his Italian scenes have done much harm to his reputation in succeeding years, for the later Italian pictures do not always attain the quality of the first version when the painter was freshly inspired by the original scenery.
Nevertheless, with the help of one or two unaffected lovers of art and Nature, who bought his English landscapes, and more who bought repetitions of his Italian scenes, and with the fees of his pupils—among whom was the diarist, Joseph Farington, R.A—Wilson managed for some years to make a tolerable living, and when the Royal Academy was established in 1768, George III—who in his boyhood had had his portrait done by this landscape painter—nominated Richard Wilson as one of the founder members of the Academy. At the Academy exhibitions Wilson with credit, if without much commercial success, and nothing serious happened till 1776, when he sent a picture of ‘Sion House from Kew Gardens,’ which the King thought of buying.
Unfortunately he sent Lord Bute to bargain with the artist, and this canny nobleman thought the price asked, sixty guineas, was ‘too dear’. ‘Tell His Majesty,’ said Wilson roguishly, ‘that he may pay for it by instalments.’ Had an Irish peer been the intermediary he might have seen the joke and have made Wilson’s fortune, but Lord Bute belonged to a race that is reputed to take money very seriously, and to be not too quick at grasping the English sense of humor. He was shocked and scandalized, deeming the answer insulting to royalty.
The harmless gibe cost Wilson what little Court favor he had, and proved to be his ruin. Fortunately, before this disastrous retort had been made, he had secured the Librarianship of the Royal Academy, and the salary of this post, fifty pounds a year, was all Wilson had to live on during his later years. His few patrons fell away from him, his brother Academicians—most of whom had been rather jealous—now shunned him, and he lived in a miserable garret in Tottenham Street, Tottenham Court Road, existing chiefly on bread and porter. He had always been fond of the last—‘though not to excess,’ said Beechey, R.A., who knew him intimately—and want of nourishment rather than excess of liquor wrought sad changes in his countenance, so that he became known as ‘red-nosed Dick.’
Just before the end he had a year or two of quiet and comfort, for he left London and made his home with his relatives in Wales, where he died, at Llanberis, in 1782. Wilson did not altogether abandon portrait-painting when he returned from Italy, and in addition to the noble portrait of himself, there is in the Academy’s Diploma Gallery a very beautiful full-length of the young artist Mortimer, whom he painted about the same time. A splendid portrait of Peg Woffington, very rich in color, which hangs in the Garrick Club, is another example of Wilson’s portraiture after his return from Italy.
Richard Wilson was the first English artist to show his countrymen not only the beauty of Nature but the beauty of their own country. He should not be judged by such large pictures as ‘Niobe’ and ‘The Villa of Mæcenas,’ which he painted ‘to order,’ but rather—so far as the National Gallery is concerned—by his exquisite ‘Italian Coast Scene’ and ‘On the Wye,’ which together show how beautifully and truly Wilson rendered the characteristic scenery of the two countries he so deeply loved.
English Masters Of The Eighteenth Century (continued)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
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