Thursday, December 06, 2007
Who Buys Old Masters?
Economist writes about a new class of buyers: Russian oligarchs and their acolytes(“market freshness”: a phrase referring to a good painting that has not been on the market for a long time) + other viewpoints @ http://www.economist.com/daily/columns/artview/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10235514
The Incredible Growing Art Museum
Blake Eskin writes about museums around the globe erecting new structures or expanding their current homes + the global phenomenon + the concept of bringing art and people together + other viewpoints @ http://www.artnews.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=988
The Road To Venice
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
2
To enumerate all the artists who were influenced by Mantegna and the School of Squarcione would be to give a list of a hundred names, and to attempt a task beyond the scope of the Outline; but brief mention must be made of one whose life, and particularly whose death, is of unusual and romantic interest. Franceso Francia (1450-1517) was a goldsmith of Bologna who achieved great fame as an engraver of medallion portraits long before the example of Mantegna inspired him to become a painter also. Francia was one of the first artists to make prints from an engraved plate, and served literature by designing the famous italic type for the press of Aldus Manutius. As a painter, Francia began with portraits and proceeded to altar-pieces, in which he displayed a remarkable psychological insight. Both in ancient times and in modern his lunette of the Dead Christ in the lap of the Virgin has been regarded as a most beautiful work, poignant in the intensity of its expression. The half-moon shaped picture is the upper part of a famous alter piece originally painted for the Church of St. Frediano at Lucca, and now in the National Gallery, London. The main picture below shows the Madonna and Child, with the following saints: St. Sebastian, St. Paul, St. Anne, St. Lawrence, and St. Benedict, while in front of the throne is the figure of the young St. John the Baptist; and the wan, expressive face of the young Virgin seems to suggest that she is already forewarned of the tragedy commemorated by the picture.
Francis was at the height of his reputation in Bologna when the young Raphael was working in Rome. The two artists never met, for Raphael was too busy to leave the Vatican and Francia was too old to travel. But they heard much of one another, and Francia as the elder, offered to help his junior in any way he could. He had never seen a picture of Raphael, and longed to view some work by the young man of whom everybody was talking. At last the opportunity came. Raphael was commissioned to paint a panel of ‘St. Cecilia’ for a Bolognese chapel, St. Giovanni in Monte; and when he had finished the painting he sent it to Francia at Bologna with a courteous letter begging the older artist to ‘correct any errors found in it,’ and then set it up on the altar for which it was intended.
When Francia drew the masterpiece from its case and viewed it in a good light, he was filled with amazement and with chagrin, so Vasari says, at his presumption in offering to help so great a genius:
‘Francia, half dead at the overwhelming power and beauty of the picture, which he had to compare with his own works lying around, though thoroughly discouraged, took it to St. Giovanni in Monte, to the chapel where it was to be. Returning home he took to his bed in an agony, feeling that art could offer him no more, and died, some suppose of grief and melancholy, due to his contemplation of the living picture of Raphael.’
That is the story told by Vasari, and though it may seem incredible to us that any artist should be so fatally affected by seeing the work of another, the fact that so strange a cause of death was related in good faith reveals to us how seriously art was taken in Italy in 1518.
The Road To Venice (continued)
2
To enumerate all the artists who were influenced by Mantegna and the School of Squarcione would be to give a list of a hundred names, and to attempt a task beyond the scope of the Outline; but brief mention must be made of one whose life, and particularly whose death, is of unusual and romantic interest. Franceso Francia (1450-1517) was a goldsmith of Bologna who achieved great fame as an engraver of medallion portraits long before the example of Mantegna inspired him to become a painter also. Francia was one of the first artists to make prints from an engraved plate, and served literature by designing the famous italic type for the press of Aldus Manutius. As a painter, Francia began with portraits and proceeded to altar-pieces, in which he displayed a remarkable psychological insight. Both in ancient times and in modern his lunette of the Dead Christ in the lap of the Virgin has been regarded as a most beautiful work, poignant in the intensity of its expression. The half-moon shaped picture is the upper part of a famous alter piece originally painted for the Church of St. Frediano at Lucca, and now in the National Gallery, London. The main picture below shows the Madonna and Child, with the following saints: St. Sebastian, St. Paul, St. Anne, St. Lawrence, and St. Benedict, while in front of the throne is the figure of the young St. John the Baptist; and the wan, expressive face of the young Virgin seems to suggest that she is already forewarned of the tragedy commemorated by the picture.
Francis was at the height of his reputation in Bologna when the young Raphael was working in Rome. The two artists never met, for Raphael was too busy to leave the Vatican and Francia was too old to travel. But they heard much of one another, and Francia as the elder, offered to help his junior in any way he could. He had never seen a picture of Raphael, and longed to view some work by the young man of whom everybody was talking. At last the opportunity came. Raphael was commissioned to paint a panel of ‘St. Cecilia’ for a Bolognese chapel, St. Giovanni in Monte; and when he had finished the painting he sent it to Francia at Bologna with a courteous letter begging the older artist to ‘correct any errors found in it,’ and then set it up on the altar for which it was intended.
When Francia drew the masterpiece from its case and viewed it in a good light, he was filled with amazement and with chagrin, so Vasari says, at his presumption in offering to help so great a genius:
‘Francia, half dead at the overwhelming power and beauty of the picture, which he had to compare with his own works lying around, though thoroughly discouraged, took it to St. Giovanni in Monte, to the chapel where it was to be. Returning home he took to his bed in an agony, feeling that art could offer him no more, and died, some suppose of grief and melancholy, due to his contemplation of the living picture of Raphael.’
That is the story told by Vasari, and though it may seem incredible to us that any artist should be so fatally affected by seeing the work of another, the fact that so strange a cause of death was related in good faith reveals to us how seriously art was taken in Italy in 1518.
The Road To Venice (continued)
Diamonds Of Fate
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:
One of the most recent famous gems is the ‘Jonker,’ said to be amongst the four largest diamonds ever to come to light. It was dug from a muddy hole not far from Pretoria by a colored man in the service of an Afrikander names Jacobus Jonker. Sir Ernest Oppenheimer paid £60000 for it. Like most of these extraordinarily large stones in the rough, the Jonker,too showed defects which made is advisable to split it into several pieces. One of the minor pieces when cut weighed about twenty carats and was sold for a large sum to a London businessman in April, 1938. Although I only heard of the deal going through as I was leaving my office in the evening, one of the leading London papers had already got wind of it and rang me up for any information I could give. I mention this to show that sizable gems of quality are of perennial news value.
One can have too much even of the best. The recital of rare diamonds is no exception, but I cannot bring this chapter to a close without mentioning the two rarest diamonds in the world: one blue and the other green.
It was in the year 1642 that Tavernier bought in India a rough diamond weighing 112¼ carats, of a violet-blue so extremely rare that no other stone of such tint of any appreciable size has been known before or since. When later he sold the stone to Louis XIV in 1668 as a faceted stone, its weight had been reduced to sixty seven and one-eights carats.
Louis, who is spoken of as le roi soleil—the Sun King—owed this flattering epithet less to his mental gifts than to his love of display. On appropriate occasions he could deck himself out i such manner that his person put in the shade the lesser luminaries. ‘The King,’ says a contemporary writer, ‘on occasion of the reception of the Persian Ambassador, was dressed in a black suit ornamented with gold and embroidered with diamonds at a cost of twelve million, five hundred thousand livres. Suspended from a light blue ribbon round his neck he wore a dark-blue diamond as a pendant.’
At the outbreak of the French Revolution in 1792 the French regalia was seized and stored at the Garde Meubles, but whatever else may have remained intact, the blue diamond had disappeared.
Now, when thirty two years had elapsed there appeared in the hands of a dealer, one Daniel Eliason, a blue diamond of a tint identical with that worn by Louis XIV, but it only weighed forty four and a quarter carats, or twenty three and one-eighth carats less than the King’s gem. Was this a new stone that had no connection with the royal jewel? The possibility must be admitted, but in the light of what transpired subsequently we are justified in arriving at a different conclusion.
But before we go in search of clues to the unravelling of the mystery, let us see what Mr Daniel Eliason did with his forty four and a half carat blue diamond. Being a trader, he did not wear it suspended round his neck, but seeking a customer for it, found him in the person of a Mr Henry Thomas Hope, and from the time the gentleman parted with £18000 to get possession of the lovely gem of a beautiful sapphire blue, it became known as the ‘Hope’ diamond. Of this stone E W Streeter, as great a connoisseur of gems as any of his contemporaries, says ‘that because of its extreme brilliancy, faultless texture, exquisite form (7/8-inch in breadth, 1 1/8 inches in length, and of unusual thickness), it is unique’. He estimated its value at £30000. It was his opinion that Louis XIV’s blue diamond had been cloven into two parts: one the size of the Hope diamond (being none other), and another, after allowing for the unavoidable waste in recutting, of ten to eleven carats.
Now for the denouement of the riddle. In the year 1874 there actually came into the market, at a sale of the Duke of Brunswick’s jewels at Geneva, a triangular blue diamond weighing between twelve and thirteen carats; and subsequently elsewhere a very much smaller piece again of the same color and quality. Since all these stones were of the same rare blue tint which has never been encountered in any other diamond known in the world, and since their total weight—allowing for cleavage and cutting—is a rough equivalent of the royal French jewel, no doubt can exist in the mind of any logical person that the thief, whoever it was, had the original stone cut into three pieces as conditioned by its natural cleavage lines.
Diamonds Of Fate (continued)
(via Gem Trader) Louis Kornitzer writes:
One of the most recent famous gems is the ‘Jonker,’ said to be amongst the four largest diamonds ever to come to light. It was dug from a muddy hole not far from Pretoria by a colored man in the service of an Afrikander names Jacobus Jonker. Sir Ernest Oppenheimer paid £60000 for it. Like most of these extraordinarily large stones in the rough, the Jonker,too showed defects which made is advisable to split it into several pieces. One of the minor pieces when cut weighed about twenty carats and was sold for a large sum to a London businessman in April, 1938. Although I only heard of the deal going through as I was leaving my office in the evening, one of the leading London papers had already got wind of it and rang me up for any information I could give. I mention this to show that sizable gems of quality are of perennial news value.
One can have too much even of the best. The recital of rare diamonds is no exception, but I cannot bring this chapter to a close without mentioning the two rarest diamonds in the world: one blue and the other green.
It was in the year 1642 that Tavernier bought in India a rough diamond weighing 112¼ carats, of a violet-blue so extremely rare that no other stone of such tint of any appreciable size has been known before or since. When later he sold the stone to Louis XIV in 1668 as a faceted stone, its weight had been reduced to sixty seven and one-eights carats.
Louis, who is spoken of as le roi soleil—the Sun King—owed this flattering epithet less to his mental gifts than to his love of display. On appropriate occasions he could deck himself out i such manner that his person put in the shade the lesser luminaries. ‘The King,’ says a contemporary writer, ‘on occasion of the reception of the Persian Ambassador, was dressed in a black suit ornamented with gold and embroidered with diamonds at a cost of twelve million, five hundred thousand livres. Suspended from a light blue ribbon round his neck he wore a dark-blue diamond as a pendant.’
At the outbreak of the French Revolution in 1792 the French regalia was seized and stored at the Garde Meubles, but whatever else may have remained intact, the blue diamond had disappeared.
Now, when thirty two years had elapsed there appeared in the hands of a dealer, one Daniel Eliason, a blue diamond of a tint identical with that worn by Louis XIV, but it only weighed forty four and a quarter carats, or twenty three and one-eighth carats less than the King’s gem. Was this a new stone that had no connection with the royal jewel? The possibility must be admitted, but in the light of what transpired subsequently we are justified in arriving at a different conclusion.
But before we go in search of clues to the unravelling of the mystery, let us see what Mr Daniel Eliason did with his forty four and a half carat blue diamond. Being a trader, he did not wear it suspended round his neck, but seeking a customer for it, found him in the person of a Mr Henry Thomas Hope, and from the time the gentleman parted with £18000 to get possession of the lovely gem of a beautiful sapphire blue, it became known as the ‘Hope’ diamond. Of this stone E W Streeter, as great a connoisseur of gems as any of his contemporaries, says ‘that because of its extreme brilliancy, faultless texture, exquisite form (7/8-inch in breadth, 1 1/8 inches in length, and of unusual thickness), it is unique’. He estimated its value at £30000. It was his opinion that Louis XIV’s blue diamond had been cloven into two parts: one the size of the Hope diamond (being none other), and another, after allowing for the unavoidable waste in recutting, of ten to eleven carats.
Now for the denouement of the riddle. In the year 1874 there actually came into the market, at a sale of the Duke of Brunswick’s jewels at Geneva, a triangular blue diamond weighing between twelve and thirteen carats; and subsequently elsewhere a very much smaller piece again of the same color and quality. Since all these stones were of the same rare blue tint which has never been encountered in any other diamond known in the world, and since their total weight—allowing for cleavage and cutting—is a rough equivalent of the royal French jewel, no doubt can exist in the mind of any logical person that the thief, whoever it was, had the original stone cut into three pieces as conditioned by its natural cleavage lines.
Diamonds Of Fate (continued)
How To Dream
The book, Dream: A Tale of Wonder, Wisdom & Wishes by Susan V. Bosak is about life's hopes and dreams, inspiring both children and adults.
Useful link:
http://www.tcpnow.com/books/dream.html
Useful link:
http://www.tcpnow.com/books/dream.html
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
When Nature Calls, Use Your Cell Phone
(via Budget Travel): When nature calls, use bathroom locator service @ www.mizpee.com
Here's how it works: Turn on your phone's Web browser, and search for bathrooms by city and street address. The site will fetch a list of the nearest ones, along with details, such as whether each bathroom has a diaper-changing station.
Call MizPee
Here's how it works: Turn on your phone's Web browser, and search for bathrooms by city and street address. The site will fetch a list of the nearest ones, along with details, such as whether each bathroom has a diaper-changing station.
Call MizPee
The Jewelry Channel
www.tjc.tv is interactive + includes user forums + blogs + live broadcast 24 hours a day + a unique shopping experience.
Meet The Woman Who Dictates The Taste Of Coffee
Jenny Gold writes about Tracy May Adair, who holds the grand title of master coffee cupper for Folgers + how to taste Folgers coffee + other viewpoints @ http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16671564&ft=1&f=3
In my view, the concept of grading and tasting coffee is similar to colored stone grading / diamond grading / wine tasting / tea tasting + it's subjective, educational.
In my view, the concept of grading and tasting coffee is similar to colored stone grading / diamond grading / wine tasting / tea tasting + it's subjective, educational.
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