(via Guardian Unlimited) Jonathan Glancey writes about SNCF's anniversary exhibition celebrating the love affair between French art and trains + other viewpoints @ http://arts.guardian.co.uk/art/visualart/story/0,,2231149,00.html
Useful link:
SNCF website
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Baffled, Bewildered—And Smitten
Hilarie M. Sheets writes about the 'I-Don't-Get-It Aesthetic' phenomenon when looking at contemporary art + other viewpoints @ http://www.artnewsonline.com/issues/article.asp?art_id=766
The Pride Of Flanders
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
The tact of the courtier, as well as the splendid powers of the painter, may be seen of a famous Rubens at the National Gallery, ‘The Blessings of Peace,’ which shows Minerva, goddess of Wisdom, pushing back War, while Peace receives Wealth and Happiness and their smiling children. This picture was presented to the English kind by Rubens soon after his arrival in London as a delicate hint of the advantages to be derived from concluding peace with Spain.
It is said that while he was painting this picture in London an English courtier asked Rubens, ‘Does the Ambassador of his Catholic Majesty amuse himself with painting?’ ‘No,’ replied Rubens, ‘I amuse myself sometimes with being an ambassador.’
On February 21, 1630, Charles I knighted the painter, and soon afterwards Sir Peter Paul Rubens returned to the Continent and again settled in Antwerp. Isabella Brant had been dead about four years, and in December Rubens married Helen Fourment, whom he must have known from childhood. She was one of the seven daughters of Daniel Fourment, a widower, who had married the sister of Ruben’s first wife. Helen was only sixteen when she married.
The last seven years of his life were devoted by Rubens to domestic happiness and his art rather than to politics, which he practically abandoned after 1633. He had a fine country estate near Malines, the Château de Steen, of which we may see a picture in the National Gallery, and there for the most part he lived quietly, happy with his girl-wife and only troubled by attacks of gout. During these last years Rubens produced a quantity of fine pictures; in one year (1638), for example, he dispatched a cargo of 112 pictures by himself and his pupils to the King of Spain. The rapidity of the master’s execution is well illustrated by a story that, having received a repeat order from Philip (after he had received the 112 pictures), and being pressed by the monarch’s brother Ferdinand to deliver the new pictures as quickly as possible, Rubens said he would do them all with his own hand ‘to gain time’.
Among these new pictures, sent off in February 1639, were the ‘The Judgment of Paris’ and ‘The Three Graces,’ both now at the Prado, and generally held to be the finest as well as the latest of the painter’s many pictures of these subjects. But still the King of Spain wanted more pictures by Rubens. Further commissions arrived, and in May 1640 the great master died in harness, working almost to the last on four large canvases.
Excelling in every branch of painting, and prolific in production, Rubens is a master of whose art only a brief summary can be given. A final word, however, must be said on the landscapes which form a conspicuous feature among his later works, and of which we possess so splendid an example in ‘The Rainbow Landscape’ in the Wallace Collection. The healthy and contented sense of physical well-being, which radiates from every landscape by Rubens, has been expressed in a criticism of this picture by Dr Richard Muther: ‘The struggle of the elements is past, everything glitters with moisture, and the trees rejoice like fat children who have just had their breakfast.’
It has been said that there are landscapes which soothe and calm our spirits, and landscapes which exhilarate. Those by Rubens come under the latter category. He was no mystic in his attitude towards Nature; he approached her without awe, with the friendly arrogance of a strong man who respects strength. Most of his landscapes were painted in the neighborhood of his country seat, and in them we may trace not only the painter’s love of the beauty in Nature, but something also of the landowner’s pride in a handsome and well-ordered estate.
The heir of the great Venetians in his painted decorations, Rubens was a pioneer in all other directions. His portraits were the inspiration of Van Dyck and the English painters of the eighteenth century, his landscapes were the prelude to Hobbema and the ‘natural painters’ of England and Holland; while in pictures like ‘Le Jardin ď Amour’ and ‘The Dance of Villagers’ he invented a new style of pastoral with small figures which Watteau and other later artists delightfully exploited.
The Pride Of Flanders (continued)
The tact of the courtier, as well as the splendid powers of the painter, may be seen of a famous Rubens at the National Gallery, ‘The Blessings of Peace,’ which shows Minerva, goddess of Wisdom, pushing back War, while Peace receives Wealth and Happiness and their smiling children. This picture was presented to the English kind by Rubens soon after his arrival in London as a delicate hint of the advantages to be derived from concluding peace with Spain.
It is said that while he was painting this picture in London an English courtier asked Rubens, ‘Does the Ambassador of his Catholic Majesty amuse himself with painting?’ ‘No,’ replied Rubens, ‘I amuse myself sometimes with being an ambassador.’
On February 21, 1630, Charles I knighted the painter, and soon afterwards Sir Peter Paul Rubens returned to the Continent and again settled in Antwerp. Isabella Brant had been dead about four years, and in December Rubens married Helen Fourment, whom he must have known from childhood. She was one of the seven daughters of Daniel Fourment, a widower, who had married the sister of Ruben’s first wife. Helen was only sixteen when she married.
The last seven years of his life were devoted by Rubens to domestic happiness and his art rather than to politics, which he practically abandoned after 1633. He had a fine country estate near Malines, the Château de Steen, of which we may see a picture in the National Gallery, and there for the most part he lived quietly, happy with his girl-wife and only troubled by attacks of gout. During these last years Rubens produced a quantity of fine pictures; in one year (1638), for example, he dispatched a cargo of 112 pictures by himself and his pupils to the King of Spain. The rapidity of the master’s execution is well illustrated by a story that, having received a repeat order from Philip (after he had received the 112 pictures), and being pressed by the monarch’s brother Ferdinand to deliver the new pictures as quickly as possible, Rubens said he would do them all with his own hand ‘to gain time’.
Among these new pictures, sent off in February 1639, were the ‘The Judgment of Paris’ and ‘The Three Graces,’ both now at the Prado, and generally held to be the finest as well as the latest of the painter’s many pictures of these subjects. But still the King of Spain wanted more pictures by Rubens. Further commissions arrived, and in May 1640 the great master died in harness, working almost to the last on four large canvases.
Excelling in every branch of painting, and prolific in production, Rubens is a master of whose art only a brief summary can be given. A final word, however, must be said on the landscapes which form a conspicuous feature among his later works, and of which we possess so splendid an example in ‘The Rainbow Landscape’ in the Wallace Collection. The healthy and contented sense of physical well-being, which radiates from every landscape by Rubens, has been expressed in a criticism of this picture by Dr Richard Muther: ‘The struggle of the elements is past, everything glitters with moisture, and the trees rejoice like fat children who have just had their breakfast.’
It has been said that there are landscapes which soothe and calm our spirits, and landscapes which exhilarate. Those by Rubens come under the latter category. He was no mystic in his attitude towards Nature; he approached her without awe, with the friendly arrogance of a strong man who respects strength. Most of his landscapes were painted in the neighborhood of his country seat, and in them we may trace not only the painter’s love of the beauty in Nature, but something also of the landowner’s pride in a handsome and well-ordered estate.
The heir of the great Venetians in his painted decorations, Rubens was a pioneer in all other directions. His portraits were the inspiration of Van Dyck and the English painters of the eighteenth century, his landscapes were the prelude to Hobbema and the ‘natural painters’ of England and Holland; while in pictures like ‘Le Jardin ď Amour’ and ‘The Dance of Villagers’ he invented a new style of pastoral with small figures which Watteau and other later artists delightfully exploited.
The Pride Of Flanders (continued)
Rose-Cut Triplets
(via Diamond Cuts in Historic Jewelry:1381-1910) Herbert Tillander writes:
It is not known for certain to what extend normal Rose Cuts were fastened base to base for a specific purpose; perhaps this was merely an attempt to increase the light effects of thin Roses. One striking example is to be found in the crown made in 1722 for the coronation of Louis XV. The famous Grand Sancy diamond formed the head of the fleur-de-lis on the top of the crown. Six pairs of Roses represented the petals of the emblem, which was three-dimensional. In order to balance the heavy Grand Sancy, each pair of flat Roses was assembled and mounted together with an intervening plate (possibly a flat diamond), the three parts forming a triplet. The eight triplets were then thick enough to match the weight of the Sancy.
By 1729 the crown (now in the Musée du Louvre) had been stripped of all its gems, which were returned to the French Treasury and reset in their original jewels. However, they were replaced with cleverly fashioned paste replicas which, most fortunately, show the exact faceting of the original gems in the crown.
It is not known for certain to what extend normal Rose Cuts were fastened base to base for a specific purpose; perhaps this was merely an attempt to increase the light effects of thin Roses. One striking example is to be found in the crown made in 1722 for the coronation of Louis XV. The famous Grand Sancy diamond formed the head of the fleur-de-lis on the top of the crown. Six pairs of Roses represented the petals of the emblem, which was three-dimensional. In order to balance the heavy Grand Sancy, each pair of flat Roses was assembled and mounted together with an intervening plate (possibly a flat diamond), the three parts forming a triplet. The eight triplets were then thick enough to match the weight of the Sancy.
By 1729 the crown (now in the Musée du Louvre) had been stripped of all its gems, which were returned to the French Treasury and reset in their original jewels. However, they were replaced with cleverly fashioned paste replicas which, most fortunately, show the exact faceting of the original gems in the crown.
I Pass From Paris To London: ‘Malacoot’
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 gem industry.
(via Gem Trader) Louis Kornitzer writes:
There was no doubt that he was ready to carry out his threat with interest. The other man sat for a moment and weighed up his chances.
‘Curse you,’ he said, glaring with rage. ‘If you had only telephoned to ask me if the stone had got inadvertently into one of my parcels when I was comparing quality, I should have taken no offence.’
‘You compared nothing,’ I broke in.
‘Where is the stone?’ demanded my client inexorably.
Well, we did not come away without it, anyhow. When my client had it safely in his wallet he turned to the thief and said: ‘Our silence respecting this matter can be bought by a donation of five hundred francs to such and such charity.’
The other went to his safe, and as though it were the most ordinary transaction in the world, laid five notes on the table. Then he sat down at his desk and wrote in a steady, clear and precise hand a receipt worded thus: ‘We, the undersigned (here our names were inserted), in consideration of Blank’s have contributed five hundred francs in cash to a certain charity, undertake solemnly to preserve an unbroken silence during the lifetime of Blank concerning an affair of honor touching him closely. May the good Lord preserve us from all temptation.’
We duly signed, marvelling. Nor have we broken our promise, though Blank has been in the spirit world for many years.
One dealer for whom I often did business was M Roeder, an illiterate self-made man who was an acknowledged expert in rubies and sapphires of the finest grades. He never bought his stones fully cut, but either in the rough (for preference), or Indian cut; that is, indifferently shaped and faceted. M Roeder taught me that it is never wise to send a large parcel of goods to the lapidary, however reputable.
‘There is too much temptation,’ he used to say, ‘to slip in what does not belong. Besides, why give an opportunity to suspect the lapidary if a parcel does not turn out as well as expected?’ It may be necessary to explain that however well graded, a parcel of gems in the rough will often give unpredictable results when the stones have been ground and polished. They may either disappoint or turn out like Cinderella in the fairy tale.
When Roeder gave out his goods he weighed each stone separately, noted its weight, drew its contour and finally immersed it in a glass of water to ascertain in which corner of it lay the concentrated coloring matter. His clerk wrote all these particulars down and the parcel was then divided into five or more parts and distributed among as many lapidaries, some in London, some in Paris, some in the French Jura. When they came back faceted he could thus check up pretty well on every stone. If the returns from one or the other of his lapidaries proved repeatedly and startlingly inadequate, he withdrew his custom.
On one occasion he gave out a stone from which he had reason to expect a fine finished specimen, but it was returned apparently a failure of no great quality. He suspected the lapidary, and without telling me why, he instructed me to find him a ruby—the gem was a ruby—of approximately the size and quality he had expected from his own rough stone. He suggested that one of the lapidaries might have such a stone; he mentioned the suspected lapidary by name. I was not to ask point-blank about the required stone, but to make the inquiry vague and not to disclose that it was wanted for a dealer.
I executed the commission and brought back a fine ruby.
‘This is my stone,’ said Roeder as soon as he saw it. According to custom, since I would not leave it with him, he sealed it up and returned it to me. A few hours later the lapidary sent for me and asked me to deliver the stone to Roeder, who had himself settled the account.
How it was settled I learned from Roeder. He had charged the lapidary outright with theft, and when the latter had denied it angrily and threatened legal proceedings, Roeder said calmly: ‘You can take what action you choose. I am going to attach the stone which is now under my seal in the broker’s hands. If you bring an action, I shall challenge you to produce your books and disclose from whom you bought the stone cut, or if in the rough, whether it was in the opinion of the man who sold it to you likely to turn out as well as the stone under dispute. I shall break you and you will be hounded out of the trade. Choose. Give me the stone and you shall still have some of my work, for you are a master of your craft and I do not believe you will deceive me again. Ca y est? Donnez-moi la main, monsieur.’
I Pass From Paris To London: ‘Malacoot’ (continued)
(via Gem Trader) Louis Kornitzer writes:
There was no doubt that he was ready to carry out his threat with interest. The other man sat for a moment and weighed up his chances.
‘Curse you,’ he said, glaring with rage. ‘If you had only telephoned to ask me if the stone had got inadvertently into one of my parcels when I was comparing quality, I should have taken no offence.’
‘You compared nothing,’ I broke in.
‘Where is the stone?’ demanded my client inexorably.
Well, we did not come away without it, anyhow. When my client had it safely in his wallet he turned to the thief and said: ‘Our silence respecting this matter can be bought by a donation of five hundred francs to such and such charity.’
The other went to his safe, and as though it were the most ordinary transaction in the world, laid five notes on the table. Then he sat down at his desk and wrote in a steady, clear and precise hand a receipt worded thus: ‘We, the undersigned (here our names were inserted), in consideration of Blank’s have contributed five hundred francs in cash to a certain charity, undertake solemnly to preserve an unbroken silence during the lifetime of Blank concerning an affair of honor touching him closely. May the good Lord preserve us from all temptation.’
We duly signed, marvelling. Nor have we broken our promise, though Blank has been in the spirit world for many years.
One dealer for whom I often did business was M Roeder, an illiterate self-made man who was an acknowledged expert in rubies and sapphires of the finest grades. He never bought his stones fully cut, but either in the rough (for preference), or Indian cut; that is, indifferently shaped and faceted. M Roeder taught me that it is never wise to send a large parcel of goods to the lapidary, however reputable.
‘There is too much temptation,’ he used to say, ‘to slip in what does not belong. Besides, why give an opportunity to suspect the lapidary if a parcel does not turn out as well as expected?’ It may be necessary to explain that however well graded, a parcel of gems in the rough will often give unpredictable results when the stones have been ground and polished. They may either disappoint or turn out like Cinderella in the fairy tale.
When Roeder gave out his goods he weighed each stone separately, noted its weight, drew its contour and finally immersed it in a glass of water to ascertain in which corner of it lay the concentrated coloring matter. His clerk wrote all these particulars down and the parcel was then divided into five or more parts and distributed among as many lapidaries, some in London, some in Paris, some in the French Jura. When they came back faceted he could thus check up pretty well on every stone. If the returns from one or the other of his lapidaries proved repeatedly and startlingly inadequate, he withdrew his custom.
On one occasion he gave out a stone from which he had reason to expect a fine finished specimen, but it was returned apparently a failure of no great quality. He suspected the lapidary, and without telling me why, he instructed me to find him a ruby—the gem was a ruby—of approximately the size and quality he had expected from his own rough stone. He suggested that one of the lapidaries might have such a stone; he mentioned the suspected lapidary by name. I was not to ask point-blank about the required stone, but to make the inquiry vague and not to disclose that it was wanted for a dealer.
I executed the commission and brought back a fine ruby.
‘This is my stone,’ said Roeder as soon as he saw it. According to custom, since I would not leave it with him, he sealed it up and returned it to me. A few hours later the lapidary sent for me and asked me to deliver the stone to Roeder, who had himself settled the account.
How it was settled I learned from Roeder. He had charged the lapidary outright with theft, and when the latter had denied it angrily and threatened legal proceedings, Roeder said calmly: ‘You can take what action you choose. I am going to attach the stone which is now under my seal in the broker’s hands. If you bring an action, I shall challenge you to produce your books and disclose from whom you bought the stone cut, or if in the rough, whether it was in the opinion of the man who sold it to you likely to turn out as well as the stone under dispute. I shall break you and you will be hounded out of the trade. Choose. Give me the stone and you shall still have some of my work, for you are a master of your craft and I do not believe you will deceive me again. Ca y est? Donnez-moi la main, monsieur.’
I Pass From Paris To London: ‘Malacoot’ (continued)
Monday, December 24, 2007
Thai Gem and Jewelry News
Here is what Mr Vichai Assarasakorn of the Thai Gem and Jewellery Traders Association has to say about the state of the industry: "Currently, we do not have our own raw materials, making us reliant solely on imports. Without steady and sustainable raw material supplies, over one million skilled craftsmen will be hard hit in the future.The association sees it as necessary to push forward all efforts to convince the new government to waive existing value-added tax (VAT) on raw-material imports to streamline and promote the free flow of trade in raw materials such as precious stones, diamonds and processed precious stones to the Thai market.
A zero-rate VAT would draw more raw material suppliers to Thailand, improving the competitive edge of Thai producers and providing greater access to raw materials. Thailand has more than 10,000 gem and jewellery businesses but 90% of them are small and medium-sized enterprises. In addition to a raw material shortage, local firms face rising competition, notably in the US and Japan, particularly in the low-end segment, from Chinese and Indian producers. Gems and jewelry are among Thailand's key exports, with 20% growth this year to 170 billion baht. In dollar terms, the figure is expected to grow 30% to about $4.8 billion.’
He cites the success of Dubai, which has become a global gold trading centre due to tax waivers. Last year Dubai's gold trade rose 37% year-on-year to $14.75 billion.
I think the Thai gem and jewelry sector will have to innovate with new concepts and attitudes to compete in the emerging markets.
A zero-rate VAT would draw more raw material suppliers to Thailand, improving the competitive edge of Thai producers and providing greater access to raw materials. Thailand has more than 10,000 gem and jewellery businesses but 90% of them are small and medium-sized enterprises. In addition to a raw material shortage, local firms face rising competition, notably in the US and Japan, particularly in the low-end segment, from Chinese and Indian producers. Gems and jewelry are among Thailand's key exports, with 20% growth this year to 170 billion baht. In dollar terms, the figure is expected to grow 30% to about $4.8 billion.’
He cites the success of Dubai, which has become a global gold trading centre due to tax waivers. Last year Dubai's gold trade rose 37% year-on-year to $14.75 billion.
I think the Thai gem and jewelry sector will have to innovate with new concepts and attitudes to compete in the emerging markets.
Good Books
The Science of Success: How Market-Based Management Built the World's Largest Private Company, by Charles Koch
Radicals for Capitalism: A Freewheeling History of the Modern American Libertarian Movement, by Brian Doherty
His Excellency George Washington, by Joseph Ellis
The Island at the Center of the World, by Russell Shorto
I think the lessons you learn will stay with you forever.
Radicals for Capitalism: A Freewheeling History of the Modern American Libertarian Movement, by Brian Doherty
His Excellency George Washington, by Joseph Ellis
The Island at the Center of the World, by Russell Shorto
I think the lessons you learn will stay with you forever.
DTC Sightholders List: Who's On And What Now?
(via IdexOnline): IdexOnline writes about the newly-named Sightholders + the verification process/reality + the list @ http://www.idexonline.com/portal_FullNews.asp?SID=&id=29129
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)