The Belgian artist De Cock's installation in the photography galleries at MOMA is intriguingly beautiful + I liked them.
Useful link:
http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2008/jandecock/
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Aha! Gotcha
The book Aha! Gotcha by Martin Gardner is a delight + analytical + insightful + I liked it.
Start A Business
I found the article via HBS Working Knowledge @ http://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/5841.html interesting + insightful.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
4. Engraved Gems, Real And Imitation
Early in the eighteenth century some attempt had been made to excavate the long-buried city of Herculaneum, and later Pompeii. General interest was aroused in the classic forms of art unearthed in these ancient cities. Artists and archeologists flocked to Naples, and fashion took note. Not suddenly but by degrees did the classic influence touch one art after another.
In jewelry the effect was to increase the demand for engraved gemstones, cameos in particular. Immediately there followed a flood of imitation ‘antiques’.
Among those who experimented with making imitation gems was Henry Quinn, a physician, whose name might not have been remembered if it had not been for his young laboratory assistant, James Tassie (1735-99).
The two invented a new form of vitreous paste with which to reproduce ancient gems and medallions, not by copying the engraving by hand, but by casting wax models of the gems.
Tassie became so skillful that his imitations possessed to a high degree the color, transparency and beauty of the originals. His work attracted much attention and he was given access to the finest private collections of ancient gems in Europe in order that he might study and reproduce them. His own collection of reproduction became famous.
At the command of Catherine, Empress of Russia, Tassie made for her copies of all his pastes, a matter of several thousand specimens.
Many of Tassie’s copies eventually became treasured museum pieces. However, to a certain extent it seems to have bene unfortunate for the trade in genuine gems that the copies were so good. Numbers of them fell into the hands of unscrupulous dealers, who passed them off as real, and the too often duped public presently became suspicious of all engraved gems and fearing to find itself deceived, ceased to buy.
More familiar and well known, even down to our times, is the name of the English potter, Joshiah Wedgwood (1730-95). Besides his famous jasperware in classic style, he made cameos for jewelry. Mounted in rings, brooches, or bracelets, his little cameos in delicately tinted jasperware, partcularly in blue and white, became exceedingly popular.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
4. Engraved Gems, Real And Imitation
Early in the eighteenth century some attempt had been made to excavate the long-buried city of Herculaneum, and later Pompeii. General interest was aroused in the classic forms of art unearthed in these ancient cities. Artists and archeologists flocked to Naples, and fashion took note. Not suddenly but by degrees did the classic influence touch one art after another.
In jewelry the effect was to increase the demand for engraved gemstones, cameos in particular. Immediately there followed a flood of imitation ‘antiques’.
Among those who experimented with making imitation gems was Henry Quinn, a physician, whose name might not have been remembered if it had not been for his young laboratory assistant, James Tassie (1735-99).
The two invented a new form of vitreous paste with which to reproduce ancient gems and medallions, not by copying the engraving by hand, but by casting wax models of the gems.
Tassie became so skillful that his imitations possessed to a high degree the color, transparency and beauty of the originals. His work attracted much attention and he was given access to the finest private collections of ancient gems in Europe in order that he might study and reproduce them. His own collection of reproduction became famous.
At the command of Catherine, Empress of Russia, Tassie made for her copies of all his pastes, a matter of several thousand specimens.
Many of Tassie’s copies eventually became treasured museum pieces. However, to a certain extent it seems to have bene unfortunate for the trade in genuine gems that the copies were so good. Numbers of them fell into the hands of unscrupulous dealers, who passed them off as real, and the too often duped public presently became suspicious of all engraved gems and fearing to find itself deceived, ceased to buy.
More familiar and well known, even down to our times, is the name of the English potter, Joshiah Wedgwood (1730-95). Besides his famous jasperware in classic style, he made cameos for jewelry. Mounted in rings, brooches, or bracelets, his little cameos in delicately tinted jasperware, partcularly in blue and white, became exceedingly popular.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
In 1825, when he was again living in Norwich, Cotman was elected as Associate of the Water-color Society in London, and from that year was a constant contributor to the Society’s exhibitions; but though his work was known and respected both in London and Norwich, the genius of Cotman was never recognized in his lifetime nor indeed for many years after his death. The struggle to make a living began to tell on his nerves and health, and it was in the hope of giving him some ease by assuring him a regular income that his steadfast friend Dawson Turner, the antiquary, succeeded in getting Cotman appointed in 1834 as drawing master at King’s College School, then in the Strand. Removing to London in view of this appointment, Cotman settled himself at 42 Hunter Street, Brunswick Square, but the change seemed to do him more harm than good. His health gradually declined, and the nervous depression to which he was a victim became more and more severe till in the end his mind became slightly unhinged. His eldest son, Miles Edward Cotman (1811-58), a water colorist of moderate ability, succeeded him as drawing-master at King’s College School, and on July 28, 1842, John Sell Cotman died and was quiety buried in the churchyard of St John’s Wood Chapel, close to Lord’s Cricket Ground. How little Cotman was appreciated then was made painfully evident when his remaining oil-paintings and water colors were sold at Christie’s in the following year. Works for which collectors would now gladly pay hundred of pounds hardly realized as many shillings in 1843, and the highest price for a painting by him then obtained was £8 15s; the highest price given for a Cotman water color was £6.
To discover exactly why an artist, afterwards recorgnized to be a genius, is not appreciated in his own lifetime, is never an easy task, but it is certain that many of his contemporaries considered Cotman’s work to be ‘unfinished’ because it had that vigorous breadth which now wins our admiration. Whether we look at an oil painting like his ‘Wherries on the Yare’ or a masterly water color like the ‘Greta Bridge’ at the British Museum, we cannot fail to be impressed by the grandeur which the artist has given to his rendering of the scene by his subordination of detail and suppression of all that is irrelevant.
Cotman took a big view of Nature and the breadth and simplicity of his masses materially help to give his pictures, whether in oil or water color, a monumental majesty unsurpassed even by his great contemporaries.
In 1825, when he was again living in Norwich, Cotman was elected as Associate of the Water-color Society in London, and from that year was a constant contributor to the Society’s exhibitions; but though his work was known and respected both in London and Norwich, the genius of Cotman was never recognized in his lifetime nor indeed for many years after his death. The struggle to make a living began to tell on his nerves and health, and it was in the hope of giving him some ease by assuring him a regular income that his steadfast friend Dawson Turner, the antiquary, succeeded in getting Cotman appointed in 1834 as drawing master at King’s College School, then in the Strand. Removing to London in view of this appointment, Cotman settled himself at 42 Hunter Street, Brunswick Square, but the change seemed to do him more harm than good. His health gradually declined, and the nervous depression to which he was a victim became more and more severe till in the end his mind became slightly unhinged. His eldest son, Miles Edward Cotman (1811-58), a water colorist of moderate ability, succeeded him as drawing-master at King’s College School, and on July 28, 1842, John Sell Cotman died and was quiety buried in the churchyard of St John’s Wood Chapel, close to Lord’s Cricket Ground. How little Cotman was appreciated then was made painfully evident when his remaining oil-paintings and water colors were sold at Christie’s in the following year. Works for which collectors would now gladly pay hundred of pounds hardly realized as many shillings in 1843, and the highest price for a painting by him then obtained was £8 15s; the highest price given for a Cotman water color was £6.
To discover exactly why an artist, afterwards recorgnized to be a genius, is not appreciated in his own lifetime, is never an easy task, but it is certain that many of his contemporaries considered Cotman’s work to be ‘unfinished’ because it had that vigorous breadth which now wins our admiration. Whether we look at an oil painting like his ‘Wherries on the Yare’ or a masterly water color like the ‘Greta Bridge’ at the British Museum, we cannot fail to be impressed by the grandeur which the artist has given to his rendering of the scene by his subordination of detail and suppression of all that is irrelevant.
Cotman took a big view of Nature and the breadth and simplicity of his masses materially help to give his pictures, whether in oil or water color, a monumental majesty unsurpassed even by his great contemporaries.
Uncommon Gemstones
Yellow green clinohumite and yellow chondrodite are often confused for tourmaline (s) because of its unusual colors + I have seen a few specimens in Bangkok, usually sold by dealers from Tanzania and Kenya, often mixed up with other rough colored stones + even experienced dealers go autistic when they see a mixed lot, sometimes you may have to cut and polish a few specimens to know their true identification, not always practical + if in doubt always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
The Rise Of Free Economics
I found the Wired article on the concept of Free! @
http://www.wired.com/techbiz/it/magazine/16-03/ff_free interesting/insightful + may be Chris Anderson is right—only time will tell.
http://www.wired.com/techbiz/it/magazine/16-03/ff_free interesting/insightful + may be Chris Anderson is right—only time will tell.
Richard Rogers
Richard Rogers is a British architect noted for his modernist + functionalist + engaging designs + I like them.
Useful links:
www.richardrogers.co.uk
www.designmuseum.org
Useful links:
www.richardrogers.co.uk
www.designmuseum.org
Monday, February 25, 2008
The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics Of Contemporary Art
The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics Of Contemporary Art by Don Thompson ought to be required reading for art collectors + he explains the state of the art trade + has good advice for anyone who walks into an art gallery.
The Fisherman And The Rhinoceros
The Fisherman And The Rhinoceros by Eric Briys + François de Varenne is a beautiful book, witty and illuminating + the parables are informative + the book also explains the bubbles and crashes of the financial markets + I liked it.
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
3. Snuff-Boxes And Trinkets
Under these conditions it was possible for the middle classes to possess all the various trinkets suggested by fashion.
Smoking, by now, was out of fashion. It was considered distinctly vulgar, but tobacco in another form, namely snuff, was among the imperative elegances of the times. Both ladies and gentlemen took snuff. The social ritual of offering a pinch of snuff to a friend, delicately sniffing another pinch one’s self, dusting off one’s face furbelows with a flourishing flip of the fingers (lest the brown powder deface the whiteness of ruffles), and finally snapping shut the lid of the jeweled snuff-box—all this ceremony, one suspects, may have been carefully practised before a mirror to ensure grace. At any rate, the chief factor in the performance was the snuff-box. Every richness of decoration conceivably to the jeweler and the artist was bestowed on the snuff box.
One box was not enough for the gallant; he carried numbers of them in his capacious coat-tail pockets.
Although a lady too had her snuff-box, it was her fan that furnished an accessory for graceful flourishing of dainty hands. It has always been one of the most effective implements of coquetry, and during the middle of the eighteenth century every lady carried a fan. Naturally it must be a work of art. Whatever the material—paper, silk, or chicken-skin parchment—the artist painted it, and the jeweler often set glittering gems in its handle or framework.
By now, the chatelaine was a contrivance usually consisting of a stout hook covered by a shield from which, hanging chains, were a miscellaneous assortment of small objects in elaborately wrought metal cases, often enriched with enamel. Thimble, scissors, needle-case, scent-case, seals, patch-box, toothpick-case and what not hung in a tinkling company along with a watch and its key. By 1785 there was no more popular wedding present than a chatelaine with its varied ‘equipage’ for the bride.
Buckles were an important item of dress both for men and women. Buckles to fasten laces, stock-buckles, knee-buckles, girdle-buckles, but most of all shoe-buckles, were essential and worn by everyone, including children.
When first introduced, shoe-buckles had been small, but soon they grew both in size and prominence. They were made in greatest variety of design and material, from the most inexpensive metals to gold set with gems or pinchbeck set with paste. The industry flourished until the latter part of the century when the shoestring began usurping the rights of the shoe-buckle. Then great was the outcry of the buckle-makers who tried to boycott the shoestring by methods even more curious than those of our modern placarded picket-line. On tickets to public entertainment one might find the notice, ‘Gentlemen cannot be admitted with shoestrings.’ But it was no use; shoestrings won.
Once cheap jewelry had proved its popularity, experimenters in the making of glass gems became more numerous than ever. Among them was a German, Strass by name, living in Paris, who succeeded in producing a particularly clear glass, rich in lead, and so sparkling that under the name of ‘Strass paste’ it was widely used for imitation diamonds or, when colored, for other stones.
Even the rich did not disdain to wear counterfeit jewelry upon occasion, and so flourishing became the trade that in 1767 it was incorporated as the joaillers-faussetiers of Paris.
The inexpensive products of the European jeweler were not, however, confined to local markets, for cheap jewelry, along with the ever popular bead, was an indispensable part of every exploring trader’s pack. With a handful of glass ‘pearls’, a few colored beads and some cheap trinkets, the crafty trader could create a boom in elephant hunting; and the delighted native hunter would eagerly exchange a magnificent ivory tusk for a pinchbeck bauble or for five big glass beads.
For the business man it was a deal worthy of large scale expansion. The English had great storehouses along the Thames to hold the heaped beads and gewgaws intended for bartering with any wide-eyed savage who didn’t know any better.
Even aside from the savage, beads were and are the favorite article of jewelry among almost all peoples. Both France and England exported beads by the ton; they were so cheaply made and so easily packed.
The last mentioned advantage holds good for real jewels, and has been recognized by all civilized countries in all times. A hoard of jewels is the most portable form for a large fortune and the most easily convertible into cash at short notice. It would seem as if the chief function of most crown jewels was to raise money to pay for wars. If not sold outright jewels could always be pawned.
At the close of the seventeenth century there was a marked change in the cut of man’s coat. It was now double-breasted, cut short in front with long tails behind. The closely buttoned coat made waistcoat pockets inaccessible, therefore the watch was carried in a small pocket, or fob, made at the waist band of the breeches.
Here was another opportunity for the industrious jeweler. Watches and their dangling bunches of seals were elaborated into bejeweled and enameled materpieces. The watch-case was often mounted with gems, the dial-plate intricately decorated, and even the tiny hands were shaped with an eye to beauty. The watch-key likewise was carefully designed and set with a stone. And Fashion helped the goldsmith further by suggesting that since a man had two of these little pockets, one on each side, it looked well-preserved a balance of ornament—to carry two watches, one in each pocket. It was not necessary that both should be timekeepers, one could be what was called a fausse montre - false watch—but in appearance the false was as decorative as th real watch.
The ladies, although not possessed of fob pockets, must not be outdone. They also carried two watches. A feminine touch was given to the fausse montre when its front ws a pincushion. If she chose, the lady wore her watch dangling among the many nicknacks that hung from her chatelaine.
In 1777, Paris established a loan center known as Mont-de-Piété (fund of pity); and when depression, caused by political difficulties, gripped the rich man’s pocketbook the Mont-de-Piété was glutted with jewelry. It is said that at one time the gold watches alone occupied forty casks!
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
3. Snuff-Boxes And Trinkets
Under these conditions it was possible for the middle classes to possess all the various trinkets suggested by fashion.
Smoking, by now, was out of fashion. It was considered distinctly vulgar, but tobacco in another form, namely snuff, was among the imperative elegances of the times. Both ladies and gentlemen took snuff. The social ritual of offering a pinch of snuff to a friend, delicately sniffing another pinch one’s self, dusting off one’s face furbelows with a flourishing flip of the fingers (lest the brown powder deface the whiteness of ruffles), and finally snapping shut the lid of the jeweled snuff-box—all this ceremony, one suspects, may have been carefully practised before a mirror to ensure grace. At any rate, the chief factor in the performance was the snuff-box. Every richness of decoration conceivably to the jeweler and the artist was bestowed on the snuff box.
One box was not enough for the gallant; he carried numbers of them in his capacious coat-tail pockets.
Although a lady too had her snuff-box, it was her fan that furnished an accessory for graceful flourishing of dainty hands. It has always been one of the most effective implements of coquetry, and during the middle of the eighteenth century every lady carried a fan. Naturally it must be a work of art. Whatever the material—paper, silk, or chicken-skin parchment—the artist painted it, and the jeweler often set glittering gems in its handle or framework.
By now, the chatelaine was a contrivance usually consisting of a stout hook covered by a shield from which, hanging chains, were a miscellaneous assortment of small objects in elaborately wrought metal cases, often enriched with enamel. Thimble, scissors, needle-case, scent-case, seals, patch-box, toothpick-case and what not hung in a tinkling company along with a watch and its key. By 1785 there was no more popular wedding present than a chatelaine with its varied ‘equipage’ for the bride.
Buckles were an important item of dress both for men and women. Buckles to fasten laces, stock-buckles, knee-buckles, girdle-buckles, but most of all shoe-buckles, were essential and worn by everyone, including children.
When first introduced, shoe-buckles had been small, but soon they grew both in size and prominence. They were made in greatest variety of design and material, from the most inexpensive metals to gold set with gems or pinchbeck set with paste. The industry flourished until the latter part of the century when the shoestring began usurping the rights of the shoe-buckle. Then great was the outcry of the buckle-makers who tried to boycott the shoestring by methods even more curious than those of our modern placarded picket-line. On tickets to public entertainment one might find the notice, ‘Gentlemen cannot be admitted with shoestrings.’ But it was no use; shoestrings won.
Once cheap jewelry had proved its popularity, experimenters in the making of glass gems became more numerous than ever. Among them was a German, Strass by name, living in Paris, who succeeded in producing a particularly clear glass, rich in lead, and so sparkling that under the name of ‘Strass paste’ it was widely used for imitation diamonds or, when colored, for other stones.
Even the rich did not disdain to wear counterfeit jewelry upon occasion, and so flourishing became the trade that in 1767 it was incorporated as the joaillers-faussetiers of Paris.
The inexpensive products of the European jeweler were not, however, confined to local markets, for cheap jewelry, along with the ever popular bead, was an indispensable part of every exploring trader’s pack. With a handful of glass ‘pearls’, a few colored beads and some cheap trinkets, the crafty trader could create a boom in elephant hunting; and the delighted native hunter would eagerly exchange a magnificent ivory tusk for a pinchbeck bauble or for five big glass beads.
For the business man it was a deal worthy of large scale expansion. The English had great storehouses along the Thames to hold the heaped beads and gewgaws intended for bartering with any wide-eyed savage who didn’t know any better.
Even aside from the savage, beads were and are the favorite article of jewelry among almost all peoples. Both France and England exported beads by the ton; they were so cheaply made and so easily packed.
The last mentioned advantage holds good for real jewels, and has been recognized by all civilized countries in all times. A hoard of jewels is the most portable form for a large fortune and the most easily convertible into cash at short notice. It would seem as if the chief function of most crown jewels was to raise money to pay for wars. If not sold outright jewels could always be pawned.
At the close of the seventeenth century there was a marked change in the cut of man’s coat. It was now double-breasted, cut short in front with long tails behind. The closely buttoned coat made waistcoat pockets inaccessible, therefore the watch was carried in a small pocket, or fob, made at the waist band of the breeches.
Here was another opportunity for the industrious jeweler. Watches and their dangling bunches of seals were elaborated into bejeweled and enameled materpieces. The watch-case was often mounted with gems, the dial-plate intricately decorated, and even the tiny hands were shaped with an eye to beauty. The watch-key likewise was carefully designed and set with a stone. And Fashion helped the goldsmith further by suggesting that since a man had two of these little pockets, one on each side, it looked well-preserved a balance of ornament—to carry two watches, one in each pocket. It was not necessary that both should be timekeepers, one could be what was called a fausse montre - false watch—but in appearance the false was as decorative as th real watch.
The ladies, although not possessed of fob pockets, must not be outdone. They also carried two watches. A feminine touch was given to the fausse montre when its front ws a pincushion. If she chose, the lady wore her watch dangling among the many nicknacks that hung from her chatelaine.
In 1777, Paris established a loan center known as Mont-de-Piété (fund of pity); and when depression, caused by political difficulties, gripped the rich man’s pocketbook the Mont-de-Piété was glutted with jewelry. It is said that at one time the gold watches alone occupied forty casks!
European Jewelry: Eighteenth And Nineteenth Centuries (continued)
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
4
The Norwich School owes its fame to two stars of the first magnitude, Crome and Cotman, and to a host of lesser luminaries. John Sell Cotman was fourteen years younger than Crome, and though also born at Norwich, on June 11, 1782, he did not, like Crome, acquire his art education in his native city. Cotman from the first was in a very different position. He was the son of well-to-do draper, received a good education at the Norwich Grammar Schook, and was intended to enter his father’s shop; but when his bent for art clearly declared itself his father was sensible enough to allow his son to make it his vocation and sent him to London.
Cotman remained in London from 1800 to 1806, and probably the most fruitful part of the education he received there was his association with the group of artists who frequented the house of Dr Thoman Monro, who has already been mentioned in this Outline as the friend of Turner adn Girtin. In Dr Monro’s house at 8 Adelphi Terrace, Cotman made the acquaintance of and worked with all the most brilliant young artists of the day, and in addition to the studies he made there under these stimulating circumstances he joined a sketching club which Girtin had founded.
To Girtin, who was not only an inspiring genius but also a most generous and affectionate friend, Cotman probably owed most at this stage of his career, and it must have been a great shock to him when Girtin died at the early age of twenty seven. After Girtin’s death in November 1802 London was not the same place to Cotman, and though as a young struggling artist he could hardly complain of want of success—for he had exhibited no fewer than thirty paintings at the Royal Academy between 1800 and 1806—he made up his mind to return to his native city.
In London Cotman had applied himself especially to architectural subjects, and it is possible that even in these early days he was influenced in this direction by the gifted West Country artist, Samuel Prout (1783-1852), who excelled in water colors of these subjects, and was living in London from 1802 to 1804; but when he returned to Norwich in 1806 or 1807, Cotman at first set himself up as a portrait painter. Gradually, however, under the influence of Crome—who was thirty nine when Cotman was twenty five—he devoted himself more and more to landscape. He became a member of the Norwich Society of Artists and was for a time its secretary.
Cotman was a prolific worker at this time, and to the Society’s exhibition in 1808 he contributed no fewer than sixty seven works. In 1809 he married, and soon afterwards removed to Yarmouth, where he added to his means by teaching and drawing as well as painting in oils and water colors and also etching. In 1811 he commenced a publication by subscription of his ‘Architectural Etchings’ and having made a number of topographical tours throughout the country, he published in 1816, his ‘Specimens of Norman and Gothic Architecture, Norfolk Churches,’ etc. He formed a useful association with Dawson Turner, the Norfolk antiquary, for whose antiquarian publications Cotman drew and etched the illustrations, and during the next three years (1817-19) he made annual expeditions into Normandy with this writer, whose Architectural Antiquities of Normandy, illustrated by Cotman, was published in 1822. All the time that he was engaged on drawings for these and other publications Cotman was exhibiting oil paintings and water colors both in Norwich and in London, but though several of these found purchasers the prices were so low that, notwithstanding his immense industry, Cotman could not have supported his wife and family if, in addition to all his other activities, he had not continued to give drawing lessons.
Natural Landscape (continued)
4
The Norwich School owes its fame to two stars of the first magnitude, Crome and Cotman, and to a host of lesser luminaries. John Sell Cotman was fourteen years younger than Crome, and though also born at Norwich, on June 11, 1782, he did not, like Crome, acquire his art education in his native city. Cotman from the first was in a very different position. He was the son of well-to-do draper, received a good education at the Norwich Grammar Schook, and was intended to enter his father’s shop; but when his bent for art clearly declared itself his father was sensible enough to allow his son to make it his vocation and sent him to London.
Cotman remained in London from 1800 to 1806, and probably the most fruitful part of the education he received there was his association with the group of artists who frequented the house of Dr Thoman Monro, who has already been mentioned in this Outline as the friend of Turner adn Girtin. In Dr Monro’s house at 8 Adelphi Terrace, Cotman made the acquaintance of and worked with all the most brilliant young artists of the day, and in addition to the studies he made there under these stimulating circumstances he joined a sketching club which Girtin had founded.
To Girtin, who was not only an inspiring genius but also a most generous and affectionate friend, Cotman probably owed most at this stage of his career, and it must have been a great shock to him when Girtin died at the early age of twenty seven. After Girtin’s death in November 1802 London was not the same place to Cotman, and though as a young struggling artist he could hardly complain of want of success—for he had exhibited no fewer than thirty paintings at the Royal Academy between 1800 and 1806—he made up his mind to return to his native city.
In London Cotman had applied himself especially to architectural subjects, and it is possible that even in these early days he was influenced in this direction by the gifted West Country artist, Samuel Prout (1783-1852), who excelled in water colors of these subjects, and was living in London from 1802 to 1804; but when he returned to Norwich in 1806 or 1807, Cotman at first set himself up as a portrait painter. Gradually, however, under the influence of Crome—who was thirty nine when Cotman was twenty five—he devoted himself more and more to landscape. He became a member of the Norwich Society of Artists and was for a time its secretary.
Cotman was a prolific worker at this time, and to the Society’s exhibition in 1808 he contributed no fewer than sixty seven works. In 1809 he married, and soon afterwards removed to Yarmouth, where he added to his means by teaching and drawing as well as painting in oils and water colors and also etching. In 1811 he commenced a publication by subscription of his ‘Architectural Etchings’ and having made a number of topographical tours throughout the country, he published in 1816, his ‘Specimens of Norman and Gothic Architecture, Norfolk Churches,’ etc. He formed a useful association with Dawson Turner, the Norfolk antiquary, for whose antiquarian publications Cotman drew and etched the illustrations, and during the next three years (1817-19) he made annual expeditions into Normandy with this writer, whose Architectural Antiquities of Normandy, illustrated by Cotman, was published in 1822. All the time that he was engaged on drawings for these and other publications Cotman was exhibiting oil paintings and water colors both in Norwich and in London, but though several of these found purchasers the prices were so low that, notwithstanding his immense industry, Cotman could not have supported his wife and family if, in addition to all his other activities, he had not continued to give drawing lessons.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Gold Theft
We are seeing an increase in robberies of valuables, especially gold and artifacts from ancient temples in Asia, and few stolen goods are ever retrieved + the thieves resort to mundane tactics, such as replacing ancient artifacts with cheap objects (just like switching gemstones from natural to synthetic or imitation + you need a good eye to know the difference) + they are also using special chemicals to remove gold from statues + I think the theft could stem from rising gold prices + rising demand in the amulet market (s).
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Dumortierite + Sapphirine
Madagascar + Tanzania are well-known for a number of uncommon + rare minerals, but lately we are seeing more uncommon gem materials from Tunduru, Tanzania; Dumortierite, when transparent, is violetish gray/brownish pink + they are usually found in mine-run parcels (mixed lots); Sapphirine, when transparent, is gray/violet/red + they are commonly found in mine-run parcels (mixed lots) + both Dumortierite and Sapphirine, if found in alluvial sources look like water-worn pebbles and are often confused with mainstream colored stones + standard gemological tests may identify both specimens, if you have master-stone specimens for quick comparison, but if doubtful always consult a reputed gem testing laboratory.
Natural Landscape
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
The Norwich School prospered exceedingly, more so than any other body of provincial artists has ever done in England, and their success was due not only to the excellence of their own work but also to the fact that they labored in a field well prepared to receive art. It will have been observed how many of the great English landscape painters belonged to the Eastern Countries—Gainsborough and Constable were both Suffolk men—and the extent to which the art of all them was influenced by the art of Holland. The explanation is to be found in the intimate trade relations which had existed for centuries between East Anglia and the Netherlands. Owing to this commercial intercourse numbers of Dutch and Flemish pictures found their way into East Anglia homes, and while London during the eighteenth century worshipped Italian art almost to the exclusion of all other, well-to-do people in Norfolk and Suffolk took a keener delight in thte homelier art of the Dutch and Flemish Schools. Thus at the very time that Constable was being neglected in London, John Crome was enjoying esteem and wide popularity in Norfolk.
It is true the Crome never made a fortune; to the end his lessons brought him in more money than his paintings, for any of which fifty pounds was a long and rarely attained price; but Crome did sell his pictures and in time became quite comfortably off. In 1801 he moved into a big house in Gildengate Street, he kept two horses, and managed before his death to acquire many good pictures and to form a library. Norwich was proud of her distinguished painter, and a special seat was always reserved for him in the parlor of the old inn in the market-place, where in his later years he was treated as an oracle, revered by all.
Under these circumstances we can understand why Crome continued to reside in his native Norwich and was never tempted to settle in London. In 1806 he exhibited for the first time at the Royal Academy, but between then and 1818 he only sent thirteen pictures in all to be exhibited there. He visited London occasionally, twice he went to Cumberland, in 1802 and 1806, once to Weymouth, and in 1814 he made a tour in France and Belgium, but his chief subjects were almost exclusively local. He was perfectly satisfied with the lanes, heaths, and river-banks surrounding Norwich, without wishing to journey further afield. In his great tree picture, ‘The Poringland Oak,’ he rivalled his own idol Hobbema; in ‘Moon Rise on the Yare,’ he surpassed the moonlight paintings of Van der Neer, by whom it was inspired; while masterpiece, ‘Mousehold Health,’ at the National Gallery, will always rank Crome amongst the grandest of landscape painters. Asked by his son why he had painted this last subject, Crome made the memorable reply: ‘For air and space.’
In addition to his oil paintings Crome executed a few water-colors and also a number of etchings. In 1834 a series of thirty-one of his etchings was published under the title of ‘Norfolk Picturesque Scenery.’
While out sketching in his fifty third year he caught a chill, and after a few days illness died on April 22, 1821. On the day before he died he addressed to his son the words so often quoted: ‘John, my boy, paint, but paint only for fame; and if your subject is only a pigsty, dignify it.’ The art of Old Crome is indeed a perpetual reminder that a masterpiece of painting is due far more to the treatment than to the subject, and nobody knew better than the Norwich master how to give dignity to the humblest subject by its stately presentation in a well-balanced composition.
Though his landscape art is limited in comparison with that of Turner and Constable, within his own self-imposed limits Crome is second to none. He did not set out, like Turner, to mirror the blazing glories of dawn and sunset, nor did he, like Constable, hold himself ready to paint Nature and weather in every aspect: Crome waited for the quieter moods of Nature in his own homeland, and he painted these to perfection.
Natural Landscape (continued)
The Norwich School prospered exceedingly, more so than any other body of provincial artists has ever done in England, and their success was due not only to the excellence of their own work but also to the fact that they labored in a field well prepared to receive art. It will have been observed how many of the great English landscape painters belonged to the Eastern Countries—Gainsborough and Constable were both Suffolk men—and the extent to which the art of all them was influenced by the art of Holland. The explanation is to be found in the intimate trade relations which had existed for centuries between East Anglia and the Netherlands. Owing to this commercial intercourse numbers of Dutch and Flemish pictures found their way into East Anglia homes, and while London during the eighteenth century worshipped Italian art almost to the exclusion of all other, well-to-do people in Norfolk and Suffolk took a keener delight in thte homelier art of the Dutch and Flemish Schools. Thus at the very time that Constable was being neglected in London, John Crome was enjoying esteem and wide popularity in Norfolk.
It is true the Crome never made a fortune; to the end his lessons brought him in more money than his paintings, for any of which fifty pounds was a long and rarely attained price; but Crome did sell his pictures and in time became quite comfortably off. In 1801 he moved into a big house in Gildengate Street, he kept two horses, and managed before his death to acquire many good pictures and to form a library. Norwich was proud of her distinguished painter, and a special seat was always reserved for him in the parlor of the old inn in the market-place, where in his later years he was treated as an oracle, revered by all.
Under these circumstances we can understand why Crome continued to reside in his native Norwich and was never tempted to settle in London. In 1806 he exhibited for the first time at the Royal Academy, but between then and 1818 he only sent thirteen pictures in all to be exhibited there. He visited London occasionally, twice he went to Cumberland, in 1802 and 1806, once to Weymouth, and in 1814 he made a tour in France and Belgium, but his chief subjects were almost exclusively local. He was perfectly satisfied with the lanes, heaths, and river-banks surrounding Norwich, without wishing to journey further afield. In his great tree picture, ‘The Poringland Oak,’ he rivalled his own idol Hobbema; in ‘Moon Rise on the Yare,’ he surpassed the moonlight paintings of Van der Neer, by whom it was inspired; while masterpiece, ‘Mousehold Health,’ at the National Gallery, will always rank Crome amongst the grandest of landscape painters. Asked by his son why he had painted this last subject, Crome made the memorable reply: ‘For air and space.’
In addition to his oil paintings Crome executed a few water-colors and also a number of etchings. In 1834 a series of thirty-one of his etchings was published under the title of ‘Norfolk Picturesque Scenery.’
While out sketching in his fifty third year he caught a chill, and after a few days illness died on April 22, 1821. On the day before he died he addressed to his son the words so often quoted: ‘John, my boy, paint, but paint only for fame; and if your subject is only a pigsty, dignify it.’ The art of Old Crome is indeed a perpetual reminder that a masterpiece of painting is due far more to the treatment than to the subject, and nobody knew better than the Norwich master how to give dignity to the humblest subject by its stately presentation in a well-balanced composition.
Though his landscape art is limited in comparison with that of Turner and Constable, within his own self-imposed limits Crome is second to none. He did not set out, like Turner, to mirror the blazing glories of dawn and sunset, nor did he, like Constable, hold himself ready to paint Nature and weather in every aspect: Crome waited for the quieter moods of Nature in his own homeland, and he painted these to perfection.
Natural Landscape (continued)
Keen Observation
To the best of my knowledge no one has highlighted the importance of education vs work experience in the diamond industry for a long time. I think Mordy Rapaport was spot on. It was educational + insightful.
Perspectives
(via Rapaport, Vol.31, No.5, February 1, 2008) Mordy Rapaport writes:
Education has always played an important role in business. Individuals’ job placement and overall success are many times based upon not only their workplace history but also their academic achievements. While I was signing up for business classes recently, I reflected on the study habits of my younger colleagues in the diamond industry.
The debate of education versus actual work experience has become prevalent in today’s fast-paced business environment. There seems to be a desire by individuals entering the workforce to obtain an increasingly higher level of education. Many younger individuals pursue multiple degrees, including MBAs and even PhDs, forgoing real work experience, and entering the business arena at an increasingly later stage of their lives.
The diamond business, however, differs from other industries in that there is a need for industry stakeholders to obtain the necessary knowledge of the product we continuously deal with. While business skills are direly needed, perhaps even more so than in other industries, they come second to an understanding of the product’s physical properties and the industry’s uniquely competitive environment. As a result, many very capable individuals opt out of pursuing a formal education and instead focus on the ongoing demands of their existing business and job priorities.
While both scenarios are understandable, I question whether either is the ideal route to be taken. Working in a vibrant environment with a hectic travel schedule and a large array of opportunities has forced me to consider the pros and cons of education and to prioritize my time accordingly. While gaining the general knowledge derived from the curriculum of today’s business schools is beneficial, I do not believe it to be the determining factor in whether to choose studies over hand-on-experience. Vast knowledge can be obtained from first hand experience in certain fields of work, more than can be relayed by a professor sitting in a classroom. On the other hand, limiting one’s expertise to a single commodity—which in the case of the diamond industry has immense volatility in terms of supply and demand—can be equally shortsighted. While the diamond industry provides a source of revenue for many, the ability to venture out into alternative business propositions should not be discarded.
What is needed is a middle ground. Many Indian acquaintances of mine have been able to capture the positive aspects of both worlds. Beginning work in the diamond trade at a young age, many leave India to pursue studies in some of the finest European and North American institutions. Their decision to step outside of their social circles and attend universities abroad adds immensely to their business sense and capabilities.
So while many younger individuals in our industry have previously not pursued studies in the broad range of business topics available, I believe it is crucial to obtain knowledge that will enable us to position ourselves for success. Many avenues, such as the GIA School of Business, are now available. Previously forced to choose between studies and work, today those within our trade interested in combining the two can select from multiple opportunities. While earning a bachelor’s degree does not determines one’s capabilities, it is certainly something beneficial to possess. Many outside factors not within our control affect the diamond trade today. A person’s ability to understand and counter any such effects will ultimately determine long term success.
Perspectives
(via Rapaport, Vol.31, No.5, February 1, 2008) Mordy Rapaport writes:
Education has always played an important role in business. Individuals’ job placement and overall success are many times based upon not only their workplace history but also their academic achievements. While I was signing up for business classes recently, I reflected on the study habits of my younger colleagues in the diamond industry.
The debate of education versus actual work experience has become prevalent in today’s fast-paced business environment. There seems to be a desire by individuals entering the workforce to obtain an increasingly higher level of education. Many younger individuals pursue multiple degrees, including MBAs and even PhDs, forgoing real work experience, and entering the business arena at an increasingly later stage of their lives.
The diamond business, however, differs from other industries in that there is a need for industry stakeholders to obtain the necessary knowledge of the product we continuously deal with. While business skills are direly needed, perhaps even more so than in other industries, they come second to an understanding of the product’s physical properties and the industry’s uniquely competitive environment. As a result, many very capable individuals opt out of pursuing a formal education and instead focus on the ongoing demands of their existing business and job priorities.
While both scenarios are understandable, I question whether either is the ideal route to be taken. Working in a vibrant environment with a hectic travel schedule and a large array of opportunities has forced me to consider the pros and cons of education and to prioritize my time accordingly. While gaining the general knowledge derived from the curriculum of today’s business schools is beneficial, I do not believe it to be the determining factor in whether to choose studies over hand-on-experience. Vast knowledge can be obtained from first hand experience in certain fields of work, more than can be relayed by a professor sitting in a classroom. On the other hand, limiting one’s expertise to a single commodity—which in the case of the diamond industry has immense volatility in terms of supply and demand—can be equally shortsighted. While the diamond industry provides a source of revenue for many, the ability to venture out into alternative business propositions should not be discarded.
What is needed is a middle ground. Many Indian acquaintances of mine have been able to capture the positive aspects of both worlds. Beginning work in the diamond trade at a young age, many leave India to pursue studies in some of the finest European and North American institutions. Their decision to step outside of their social circles and attend universities abroad adds immensely to their business sense and capabilities.
So while many younger individuals in our industry have previously not pursued studies in the broad range of business topics available, I believe it is crucial to obtain knowledge that will enable us to position ourselves for success. Many avenues, such as the GIA School of Business, are now available. Previously forced to choose between studies and work, today those within our trade interested in combining the two can select from multiple opportunities. While earning a bachelor’s degree does not determines one’s capabilities, it is certainly something beneficial to possess. Many outside factors not within our control affect the diamond trade today. A person’s ability to understand and counter any such effects will ultimately determine long term success.
Fragrance Ingredient Research
'There are no new colors to see and very few new sounds, but we are actually creating new, unique smells no one has ever smelled before.'
- Ned Polan
Vice President
Fragrance Ingredient Research
International Flavors & Fragrances
www.iff.com
- Ned Polan
Vice President
Fragrance Ingredient Research
International Flavors & Fragrances
www.iff.com
The Shield Cut
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
Inventories of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries describe triangular diamonds in different ways—for instance, as en demies losanges, plats à 3 quarrés, plats aux 2 costez fais à 3 quarrés, and couchiés. Most descriptions, however, include the word écu (French, from the Latin scutum, meaning a shield)—‘en guise ďun escu’, ‘en façon ďescusson’, etc. I have included all historical triangular cuts under this one heading (even those entries which represent triangular Table Cuts and Mirror Cuts), because for centuries the shield played such an important role in warfare and heraldry, and the shape of the stone took precedence over the cut. Modern triangular diamonds are described, according to the cut, as Brilliants or Step Cuts, and only as Shields if the sides are rounded.
A cleavage of an octahedral crystal (a ‘was’) displays one side with a dominating triangular face (one of the octahedral faces). It looks like a Pyramidal Point Cut, deeply buried, with only one of its faces, and small areas of the surrounding faces, exposed. This is described in French as couchié and in German as liegender.
The most important known historical jewel containing large Shield Cuts was owned by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. On his ‘Feather’, in addition to five large spinels, a Burgundian Point Cut and a Table Cut diamond weighing 7-8 ct, there were two Shields, each about 12 mm in diameter and weighing about 6 ct. They were described in 1504 as ‘zwen demant schilt mit dryen anhangenden eggkenden falsetten, gutt wasser, wigt yeglicher ungeverlich kratj sechse’. Perhaps the oldest surviving examples of Table and Table Cut Shields are to be found on the Burgundian Court Goblet, dating from the middle of the fifteenth century.
Inventories of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries describe triangular diamonds in different ways—for instance, as en demies losanges, plats à 3 quarrés, plats aux 2 costez fais à 3 quarrés, and couchiés. Most descriptions, however, include the word écu (French, from the Latin scutum, meaning a shield)—‘en guise ďun escu’, ‘en façon ďescusson’, etc. I have included all historical triangular cuts under this one heading (even those entries which represent triangular Table Cuts and Mirror Cuts), because for centuries the shield played such an important role in warfare and heraldry, and the shape of the stone took precedence over the cut. Modern triangular diamonds are described, according to the cut, as Brilliants or Step Cuts, and only as Shields if the sides are rounded.
A cleavage of an octahedral crystal (a ‘was’) displays one side with a dominating triangular face (one of the octahedral faces). It looks like a Pyramidal Point Cut, deeply buried, with only one of its faces, and small areas of the surrounding faces, exposed. This is described in French as couchié and in German as liegender.
The most important known historical jewel containing large Shield Cuts was owned by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy. On his ‘Feather’, in addition to five large spinels, a Burgundian Point Cut and a Table Cut diamond weighing 7-8 ct, there were two Shields, each about 12 mm in diameter and weighing about 6 ct. They were described in 1504 as ‘zwen demant schilt mit dryen anhangenden eggkenden falsetten, gutt wasser, wigt yeglicher ungeverlich kratj sechse’. Perhaps the oldest surviving examples of Table and Table Cut Shields are to be found on the Burgundian Court Goblet, dating from the middle of the fifteenth century.
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