Closely Watched Trains (1966)
Directed by: Jirí Menzel
Screenplay: Bohumil Hrabal (also novel), Jirí Menzel
Cast: Václav Neckár, Josef Somr
(via YouTube): Closely Watched Trains – Trailer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Igc0Jp62kEg
Closely watched trains
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sp-u2HCyZac
A unique Czech film + it's sweetly funny + a moving masterpiece. I enjoyed it.
Monday, December 03, 2007
The ARTnews 200 Top Collectors
Milton Esterow writes about the world's most active collectors + collectors passion for paying good money for quality/rarity + other viewpoints @ http://www.artnews.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=953
The Wonder Of The Renaissance
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
Most artists who had received a papal commission of this magnitude began their work with an army of assistants. Bramante, with a show of giving his enemy every assistance, brought some experienced fresco-painters from Florence and erected a scaffolding whereby they might get at the ceiling. Furious and suspicious of everything and everybody, Michael Angelo began by declaring Bramante’s scaffolding to be useless and by raising another. Next he got rid of his assistants. One morning he got there early, destroyed everything they had done, locked himself in, and refused to admit the Florentines.
During the next four years, working feverishly and in secret, the sculptor accomplished the mightiest series of paintings in the world. He had endless troubles and difficulties. The work was new to him, and he had to learn its technique as he went along. Hardly had he finished painting one panel, ‘The Deluge,’ when the surface became mouldy and had to do it all over again. All this time his relatives badgered him for money; the Pope, irritated at his secrecy and seeming slowness, threatened to have him thrown from the top of his scaffolding, and at last, worn out, but still not content with his creations, Michael Angelo, after lying for four years on his back to paint this ceiling, once more stood erect and allowed the scaffolding to be taken down on All Saints Day 1512.
His worst enemies were amazed at the greatness and magnitude of his achievement. Raphael, great enough himself to fear no rival, was the first to praise it, thanking God aloud that he had been born in the same century. No photographs can do justice to what Raphael and his contemporaries then saw. In default of the original, we can but show a single figure, and let the imagination do the rest.
Michael Angelo divided the great ablong space of the ceiling into nine principal sections, or rather three groups of three scenes each. The first group, illustrating ‘The Creation of the World,’ consisted of (1) ‘God Dividing Light from Darkness,’ (2) ‘God Creating the Luminaries,’ and (3) ‘God Blessing the Earth’. The second group, illustrating ‘The Fall of Man’, showed (4) ‘The Creation of Adam’, (5) “The Creation of Eve,’ and (6) ‘The Temptation and Fall.’ The last three, illustrating the uselessness of sacrifice under the old dispensation, represented (7) ‘The Sacrifice of Noah,’ (8) ‘The Deluge,’ and ‘The Drunkenness of Noah.’ These nine panels were knit together by a connecting framework in which were placed single figures of Prophets, Sibyls, and other decorative figures, lunettes and triangles, so that the whole appeared as an elaborate architectural roof ornamented with reliefs and sculptured figures among which nine great pictures had been inserted.
The work was completed, but Michael Angelo at thirty-seven was an old man. His health was shattered. Working for months on end with his head thrown back had strained his neck and brought on painful swellings on the glands; his sight was injured to such an extent that for long afterwards he could not read a book or letter unless he held it above his head. Then, when the old Pope, satisfied at last, might have rewarded the heroic artist Julius died and was succeeded by Leo X, who had work for Raphael, but none for Michael Angelo.
The harassed sculptor went back to Florence, where he set to work on another masterpiece of sculpture, the ‘Tomb of Lorenzo de Medici,’ with its beautiful recumbent figures of ‘Night’ and ‘Morning,’ ‘Dawn’ and ‘Twilight.’ Worse troubles were in store for him. Disgusted with all things, including himself, he threw himself into the revolution which convulsed Florence in 1527. Though no engineer like Leonardo, the republican revolutionaries put him in charge of the fortification of the city. Distrustful of everybody, Michael Angelo feared that Malatesta Baglione, the general of the Florentine troops, might betray the city to the troops of the new Pope (Clement VII); his warning unheeded by the authorities, he feared the hostility of the powerful commander, and giving way to attack of nerves he fled to Venice for his life. There he was safe and might have gone to France, but an appeal to his honor brought him back to Florence. Once more he took his place in the fighting line, and six months later Malatesta Baglione, as he foresaw, betrayed the city to the Emperor.
Irony of fate! The life of the wretched sculptor was spared in order that he might work again for the glory of those tyrants, the Medici, against whom he had fought. In 1534, another Pope, Paul III, called him to Rome to enter on a new project. Again the sculptor was asked to paint, to cover the immense wall at the entrance to the Sistine Chapel with a fresco representing ‘The Last Judgment’. He began the work when he was sixty one, and again shutting himself up, accomplished the task in a little over five years. It was no work for an old man of nearly seventy, and the following year the sculptor had to turn from painting to architecture; by command of the Pope he designed the mighty Dome which to all the world today is the sign and symbol of the Eternal City.
Vasari, who visited the old man when he was eighty eight, gives a wonderful picture of Michael Angelo’s last years. He lived like a poor man, ate hardly anything but a little bread and drank but a little wine. Unable to sleep, he would get up at night to work with his chisel, and made himself a paper helmet in which a candle was fixed, so that he might have light to work without embarrassing his hands.
On February 12, 1564, the old man spent the whole day on his feet working at a ‘Pieta’. Two days afterwards he was seized with fever, but with his usual obstinacy refused to see a doctor or to go to bed. On the 17th he consented to be put to bed, and fully conscious, dictated his will, bequeathing ‘his soul to God and his body to the earth’. About five o’ clock on the following afternoon, surrounded by his faithful servant and a few friends, the worn-out genius breathed his last and found that rest which had never been granted him in life.
Most artists who had received a papal commission of this magnitude began their work with an army of assistants. Bramante, with a show of giving his enemy every assistance, brought some experienced fresco-painters from Florence and erected a scaffolding whereby they might get at the ceiling. Furious and suspicious of everything and everybody, Michael Angelo began by declaring Bramante’s scaffolding to be useless and by raising another. Next he got rid of his assistants. One morning he got there early, destroyed everything they had done, locked himself in, and refused to admit the Florentines.
During the next four years, working feverishly and in secret, the sculptor accomplished the mightiest series of paintings in the world. He had endless troubles and difficulties. The work was new to him, and he had to learn its technique as he went along. Hardly had he finished painting one panel, ‘The Deluge,’ when the surface became mouldy and had to do it all over again. All this time his relatives badgered him for money; the Pope, irritated at his secrecy and seeming slowness, threatened to have him thrown from the top of his scaffolding, and at last, worn out, but still not content with his creations, Michael Angelo, after lying for four years on his back to paint this ceiling, once more stood erect and allowed the scaffolding to be taken down on All Saints Day 1512.
His worst enemies were amazed at the greatness and magnitude of his achievement. Raphael, great enough himself to fear no rival, was the first to praise it, thanking God aloud that he had been born in the same century. No photographs can do justice to what Raphael and his contemporaries then saw. In default of the original, we can but show a single figure, and let the imagination do the rest.
Michael Angelo divided the great ablong space of the ceiling into nine principal sections, or rather three groups of three scenes each. The first group, illustrating ‘The Creation of the World,’ consisted of (1) ‘God Dividing Light from Darkness,’ (2) ‘God Creating the Luminaries,’ and (3) ‘God Blessing the Earth’. The second group, illustrating ‘The Fall of Man’, showed (4) ‘The Creation of Adam’, (5) “The Creation of Eve,’ and (6) ‘The Temptation and Fall.’ The last three, illustrating the uselessness of sacrifice under the old dispensation, represented (7) ‘The Sacrifice of Noah,’ (8) ‘The Deluge,’ and ‘The Drunkenness of Noah.’ These nine panels were knit together by a connecting framework in which were placed single figures of Prophets, Sibyls, and other decorative figures, lunettes and triangles, so that the whole appeared as an elaborate architectural roof ornamented with reliefs and sculptured figures among which nine great pictures had been inserted.
The work was completed, but Michael Angelo at thirty-seven was an old man. His health was shattered. Working for months on end with his head thrown back had strained his neck and brought on painful swellings on the glands; his sight was injured to such an extent that for long afterwards he could not read a book or letter unless he held it above his head. Then, when the old Pope, satisfied at last, might have rewarded the heroic artist Julius died and was succeeded by Leo X, who had work for Raphael, but none for Michael Angelo.
The harassed sculptor went back to Florence, where he set to work on another masterpiece of sculpture, the ‘Tomb of Lorenzo de Medici,’ with its beautiful recumbent figures of ‘Night’ and ‘Morning,’ ‘Dawn’ and ‘Twilight.’ Worse troubles were in store for him. Disgusted with all things, including himself, he threw himself into the revolution which convulsed Florence in 1527. Though no engineer like Leonardo, the republican revolutionaries put him in charge of the fortification of the city. Distrustful of everybody, Michael Angelo feared that Malatesta Baglione, the general of the Florentine troops, might betray the city to the troops of the new Pope (Clement VII); his warning unheeded by the authorities, he feared the hostility of the powerful commander, and giving way to attack of nerves he fled to Venice for his life. There he was safe and might have gone to France, but an appeal to his honor brought him back to Florence. Once more he took his place in the fighting line, and six months later Malatesta Baglione, as he foresaw, betrayed the city to the Emperor.
Irony of fate! The life of the wretched sculptor was spared in order that he might work again for the glory of those tyrants, the Medici, against whom he had fought. In 1534, another Pope, Paul III, called him to Rome to enter on a new project. Again the sculptor was asked to paint, to cover the immense wall at the entrance to the Sistine Chapel with a fresco representing ‘The Last Judgment’. He began the work when he was sixty one, and again shutting himself up, accomplished the task in a little over five years. It was no work for an old man of nearly seventy, and the following year the sculptor had to turn from painting to architecture; by command of the Pope he designed the mighty Dome which to all the world today is the sign and symbol of the Eternal City.
Vasari, who visited the old man when he was eighty eight, gives a wonderful picture of Michael Angelo’s last years. He lived like a poor man, ate hardly anything but a little bread and drank but a little wine. Unable to sleep, he would get up at night to work with his chisel, and made himself a paper helmet in which a candle was fixed, so that he might have light to work without embarrassing his hands.
On February 12, 1564, the old man spent the whole day on his feet working at a ‘Pieta’. Two days afterwards he was seized with fever, but with his usual obstinacy refused to see a doctor or to go to bed. On the 17th he consented to be put to bed, and fully conscious, dictated his will, bequeathing ‘his soul to God and his body to the earth’. About five o’ clock on the following afternoon, surrounded by his faithful servant and a few friends, the worn-out genius breathed his last and found that rest which had never been granted him in life.
More About Diamonds. Some Famous Stones
Louis Kornitzer's book, Gem Trader, is partly autobiographical and partly woven round the lore of pearls. It's educational + explains the distribution chain of gems, as they pass from hand to hand, from miner to cutter, from merchant to millionaire, from courtesan to receiver of stolen goods, shaping human lives as they go + the unique characters in the industry.
(via Gem Trader) Louis Kornitzer writes:
There are stories, strange, tragic, humorous or romantic, about all the great stones. Diamonds above all others have attracted to themselves innumerable histories beyond the dreams of mere imagination.
Consider the ‘Braganza,’ the size of a goose’s egg and said to have weighed 1680 carats in the rough. The full story is to be found in Mawe’s Travels in Brazil, but here are the main facts. Three men, whose names were Antonio de Sousa, Jose Felix Gomez and Thomas de Sousa, having been found guilty of various crimes, were banished into the interior of Brazil and forbidden to approach the capital towns or remain in civilized society on pain of perpetual imprisonment. Brazil is very vast and much of its territory is even yet not fully explored. Driven into the unfrequented wilds, the banished men determined to discover and exploit new mines, in the hope that if they were able to make valuable discoveries it would lead to a reversal of their hard sentences. They wandered about for some six years, until at last, coming in a dry season to the exposed river bed of the Abaite, a few leagues to the north of the Rio Plata, they there washed for gold and discovered the big diamond.
They forthwith consulted a priest about the course they should take, who advised them to trust to the mercy of the State, and himself accompanied them to Villa Rica, where the Governor, on hearing the story and seeing the evidence of their good fortune, suspended their sentences.
The gem was then sent to Rio de Janeiro, whence a frigate took it to Lisbon. The priest who had originally advised the surrender of the gem went with it to Portugal, presumably hoping for preferment, and the Portuguese King was sufficiently impressed with his new possession to pardon the exiles, confirming the Governor’s action, and advance the pertinacious cleric. The stone, is however, said to have been allowed to remain in its uncut state, and Rome Delisle gave its value at 300 millions sterling, an astronomically large and almost incredible sum. In his memoir on this diamond Murray says that Don John VI had a hole drilled in the stone and wore it suspended round his neck on gala days. Of its recent history there is none to say. Presumably it is still in the Portuguese treasury, for all the information to the contrary, but no outsider knows for certain. Enquiries are not appreciated by those in authority, possibly because, as some suggest, the gem is not a diamond at all, but a white topaz. If that were indeed true, successive Portuguese Governments may have thought it politic to preserve the legend of the great Braganza by saying nothing to dispel the illusion surrounding their great national possession. Certainly Barbot, who saw the stone, describes it as being of a dark yellow color, which possibly suggests a topaz. The date of its discovery by the three outcasts is variously given as 1741, 1764, and 1797.
A diamond that has always remained in the possession of a native prince is the ‘Matan’, so called because it belongs to the Rajah of Matan, in Dutch Borneo. It was found in 1787 in the Landak mines N.E of Pontianak, among the oldest known and, before the opening of the Rand mines, probably also the most productive in the world. As far back as 1738 the Dutch exported from this district some 300,000 dollars worth of diamonds. Sir Stamford Raffles wrote of that time: ‘Few courts of Europe could boast of a more brilliant display of diamonds than did the Dutch ladies of Batavia in the prosperous days.’ All these diamonds came from Borneo. For over a century the Chinese worked those mines, but they were so cruel and tyrannous in their treatment of the Dyaks, natives of the country, that in the end the latter rebelled and massacred the Chinese almost to a man.
When found, the Matan diamond weighed 367 carats. It is described as being the size of an average walnut (favorite description of very large diamonds, for some reason) and of a bluish metallic luster. It has never been cut. The Dutch Government were very anxious to buy it, and the Governor of Batavia is said to have offered 150000 dollars plus two large war brigs, with full complement of guns and other war material, but the native prince refused the offer. It is still in the Sultan’s treasury, but for fear of arousing the cupidity of scheming despoilers it is not now shown. Occasionally, to gratify the curiosity of exalted visitors, the Rajah displays a crystal replica. When it was still being shown, the Matan was variously valued at anything between £270000 and 350000 sterling.
To its owners the Matan had, like many another great gem, the added virtue of possessing miraculous powers. The water in which it is dipped when the medicine chest of the Rajah’s household requires replenishing is reputed to be a sure cure for life’s ills.
Another great diamond remaining in the hands of a native prince, also still uncut is the ‘Nizam’, property of the Nizam of Hydrerabad, in whose territory were the great mines of Golconda, famous source of the diamonds of the ancients and of medieval men. The Nizam’s ancestors were styled ‘Kings of Golconda’. The Nizam diamond weighs 340 carats and its value was many years ago stated to be £200000, but large as the stone is, it is only part of a bigger stone which before fracturing weighed 440 carats.
A modern gem was the ‘Stewart’ diamond. It was found in 1872 by a man named Spalding in an outside claim (diggings), before the South African Rand had become an El Dorado for diamond miners. Spalding was so overcome by his find that he could neither eat or drink for three full days. Or so it was said. This stone weighed 288 3/8 carats in the rough, was consigned to an important London firm, and since no more transpires, was presumably sold by them to someone who preferred to remain the anonymous owner of a two-ounce diamond.
(via Gem Trader) Louis Kornitzer writes:
There are stories, strange, tragic, humorous or romantic, about all the great stones. Diamonds above all others have attracted to themselves innumerable histories beyond the dreams of mere imagination.
Consider the ‘Braganza,’ the size of a goose’s egg and said to have weighed 1680 carats in the rough. The full story is to be found in Mawe’s Travels in Brazil, but here are the main facts. Three men, whose names were Antonio de Sousa, Jose Felix Gomez and Thomas de Sousa, having been found guilty of various crimes, were banished into the interior of Brazil and forbidden to approach the capital towns or remain in civilized society on pain of perpetual imprisonment. Brazil is very vast and much of its territory is even yet not fully explored. Driven into the unfrequented wilds, the banished men determined to discover and exploit new mines, in the hope that if they were able to make valuable discoveries it would lead to a reversal of their hard sentences. They wandered about for some six years, until at last, coming in a dry season to the exposed river bed of the Abaite, a few leagues to the north of the Rio Plata, they there washed for gold and discovered the big diamond.
They forthwith consulted a priest about the course they should take, who advised them to trust to the mercy of the State, and himself accompanied them to Villa Rica, where the Governor, on hearing the story and seeing the evidence of their good fortune, suspended their sentences.
The gem was then sent to Rio de Janeiro, whence a frigate took it to Lisbon. The priest who had originally advised the surrender of the gem went with it to Portugal, presumably hoping for preferment, and the Portuguese King was sufficiently impressed with his new possession to pardon the exiles, confirming the Governor’s action, and advance the pertinacious cleric. The stone, is however, said to have been allowed to remain in its uncut state, and Rome Delisle gave its value at 300 millions sterling, an astronomically large and almost incredible sum. In his memoir on this diamond Murray says that Don John VI had a hole drilled in the stone and wore it suspended round his neck on gala days. Of its recent history there is none to say. Presumably it is still in the Portuguese treasury, for all the information to the contrary, but no outsider knows for certain. Enquiries are not appreciated by those in authority, possibly because, as some suggest, the gem is not a diamond at all, but a white topaz. If that were indeed true, successive Portuguese Governments may have thought it politic to preserve the legend of the great Braganza by saying nothing to dispel the illusion surrounding their great national possession. Certainly Barbot, who saw the stone, describes it as being of a dark yellow color, which possibly suggests a topaz. The date of its discovery by the three outcasts is variously given as 1741, 1764, and 1797.
A diamond that has always remained in the possession of a native prince is the ‘Matan’, so called because it belongs to the Rajah of Matan, in Dutch Borneo. It was found in 1787 in the Landak mines N.E of Pontianak, among the oldest known and, before the opening of the Rand mines, probably also the most productive in the world. As far back as 1738 the Dutch exported from this district some 300,000 dollars worth of diamonds. Sir Stamford Raffles wrote of that time: ‘Few courts of Europe could boast of a more brilliant display of diamonds than did the Dutch ladies of Batavia in the prosperous days.’ All these diamonds came from Borneo. For over a century the Chinese worked those mines, but they were so cruel and tyrannous in their treatment of the Dyaks, natives of the country, that in the end the latter rebelled and massacred the Chinese almost to a man.
When found, the Matan diamond weighed 367 carats. It is described as being the size of an average walnut (favorite description of very large diamonds, for some reason) and of a bluish metallic luster. It has never been cut. The Dutch Government were very anxious to buy it, and the Governor of Batavia is said to have offered 150000 dollars plus two large war brigs, with full complement of guns and other war material, but the native prince refused the offer. It is still in the Sultan’s treasury, but for fear of arousing the cupidity of scheming despoilers it is not now shown. Occasionally, to gratify the curiosity of exalted visitors, the Rajah displays a crystal replica. When it was still being shown, the Matan was variously valued at anything between £270000 and 350000 sterling.
To its owners the Matan had, like many another great gem, the added virtue of possessing miraculous powers. The water in which it is dipped when the medicine chest of the Rajah’s household requires replenishing is reputed to be a sure cure for life’s ills.
Another great diamond remaining in the hands of a native prince, also still uncut is the ‘Nizam’, property of the Nizam of Hydrerabad, in whose territory were the great mines of Golconda, famous source of the diamonds of the ancients and of medieval men. The Nizam’s ancestors were styled ‘Kings of Golconda’. The Nizam diamond weighs 340 carats and its value was many years ago stated to be £200000, but large as the stone is, it is only part of a bigger stone which before fracturing weighed 440 carats.
A modern gem was the ‘Stewart’ diamond. It was found in 1872 by a man named Spalding in an outside claim (diggings), before the South African Rand had become an El Dorado for diamond miners. Spalding was so overcome by his find that he could neither eat or drink for three full days. Or so it was said. This stone weighed 288 3/8 carats in the rough, was consigned to an important London firm, and since no more transpires, was presumably sold by them to someone who preferred to remain the anonymous owner of a two-ounce diamond.
Beryl Triplets Imitating Natural Emeralds
It's amazing to see beryl triplets in the gem + jewelry market despite information about the imitation (s) via trade journals/ gemological books/ seminars/ workshops by experts from around the world. The victims include jewelers, gemologists, gem traders + the public.
A beryl triplet is a deception. It has no value. It consists of a crown of colorless beryl (goshenite) or any clean, very light colored beryl (pale aquamarine), and a pavilion of the same material cemented together with a green chromium-based cement. The purpose of the goshenite material is to have the refractive index and specific gravity values in the range of beryl. The green layer of cement is reflected throughout the stone by the facets so that the face-up color of these imitations show good emerald-green color.
Immersion in a suitable liquid will easily show the three parts of the triplet. With some practice + proper magnification (loupe + microscope) one should be able to see the separation plane.
A beryl triplet is a deception. It has no value. It consists of a crown of colorless beryl (goshenite) or any clean, very light colored beryl (pale aquamarine), and a pavilion of the same material cemented together with a green chromium-based cement. The purpose of the goshenite material is to have the refractive index and specific gravity values in the range of beryl. The green layer of cement is reflected throughout the stone by the facets so that the face-up color of these imitations show good emerald-green color.
Immersion in a suitable liquid will easily show the three parts of the triplet. With some practice + proper magnification (loupe + microscope) one should be able to see the separation plane.
Pearl Production In The South Pacific Region
Here is an interesting website on commercial pearl production in the South Pacific region + other viewpoints @ http://www.spc.int/coastfish/News/POIB/17/POIB17.pdf
Sunday, December 02, 2007
The Desertec Concept
Desertec concept = bringing technology and deserts into service for energy, water and climate security. http://www.trecers.net/concept.html
Useful link:
www.trecers.net
How Africa's Desert Sun Can Bring Europe Power
http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2007/dec/02/renewableenergy.solarpower
Useful link:
www.trecers.net
How Africa's Desert Sun Can Bring Europe Power
http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2007/dec/02/renewableenergy.solarpower
City Of God
City Of God (2002)
Directed by: Fernando Meirelles, Kátia Lund
Screenplay: Paulo Lins (novel); Bráulio Mantovani (screenplay)
Cast: Alexandre Rodrigues, Leandro Firmino
(via YouTube): City of God Original Brazilian Trailer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iISAiUwY9eM
City of God - chase the chicken
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoNATPsOsZk
A unique mixture of realism and surrealism + one-of-a-kind film. I enjoyed it.
Directed by: Fernando Meirelles, Kátia Lund
Screenplay: Paulo Lins (novel); Bráulio Mantovani (screenplay)
Cast: Alexandre Rodrigues, Leandro Firmino
(via YouTube): City of God Original Brazilian Trailer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iISAiUwY9eM
City of God - chase the chicken
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoNATPsOsZk
A unique mixture of realism and surrealism + one-of-a-kind film. I enjoyed it.
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