(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
- Curative Rings
Since ideas of religion, magic and medicine were still so entangled one with the other that there were no clearly defined boundaries between them, it naturally follows that this confusion is shown in the rings of the period. Belief in the curative powers of gemstones and the efficacy of inscriptions and devices engraved thereon had survived the Middle Ages and flourished as mightily during the Renaissance as it had it earlier times. To be sure, by now, a few scholars voiced skepticism concerning certain supersititions, while stoutly maintaining that others were facts. But on the whole, everybody believed that the right kind of ring would cure ills of body, soul, or estate according to need. Some details concerning these beliefs have already been given in former chapters.
There is one type of curative rings, however, that seems to have gained particular prominence during the Renaissance, namely, the ‘cramp ring’. It was supposed to be a protection, as the name indicates, against cramps. Tradition says these rings were made from gold coins given by successive kings of England at the offertory at Westminster Abbey on Good Friday. But a cramp ring was not always made of gold. During the sixteenth century, when its fame had spread from England to other countries of Europe, the great demand was met by rings of baser metal. Cellini refers to a cramp ring made of lead and copper, worth tenpence.
The toadstone, highly prized as a ring-charm, has been immortalized by Shakespeare:
Sweet are the uses of adversity;
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
But unfortunately for this poetic conception, the toadstone is not a stone (being the fossilized tooth of a fish) nor—quite obviously—does it come from the head of a toad. Nevertheless such stones were believed to be carried in the heads of large old toads and were recommended for curing dropsy and the spleen. Directions for procuring a toadstone are set forth in the Kyranides, a work of Gnostic tendencies, thought to have been written at Alexandria:
The earth-toad, called saccos, whose breath is poisonous, has a stone in the marrow of its head. If you take it when the moon is waning, put it in a linen cloth for forty days, and then cut it from the cloth and take the stone, you will have a powerful amulet.
The toadstone possessed great sensitivity. If brought in contact with poison it was said to change color and to sweat. And whether or not your toadstone was genuine could be most easily proved. All that was necessary was to place the stone in front of a toad and if the toad straightway snatched up the stone, then it was a real toadstone, but if the toad remained indifferent then your stone was not genuine.
One of the first illustrated books on drugs, the Hortus Sanitatis, written in 1483, has hand-illuminated pictures, one of which shows the proper way to extract a curative toadstone from your toad. Another picture illustrates the manner in which a bloodstone should be applied to the nose in order to prevent nosebleed.
An elaborate full-page drawing represents the interior of a lapidary-apothecary’s shop. At the back is a doctor instructing his pupil in the medicinal virtues of stones, while in the front of the shop six customers at once are buying ‘medicine rocks.’ It takes two clerks to wait on them, and apparently no medicine except ‘rocks,’ judging form the display on the five tables, is carried in stock by this shop, although of course doctors did not confine their nostrums entirely to the mineral kingdom. They used both vegetable and animal ingredients, often cooking up the most revolting messes, the worse the better, for their long-suffering patients to swallow.
Jewelers Of Renaissance (continued)
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Rise Of Landscape Painting
(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:
In 1840, when Turner was sixty five, he met a young man of twenty one, fresh from Oxford, who, from the time he first saw the illustrations to Roger’s Italy, had worshipped the genius of Turner, and was destined to become his persistent and most eloquent champion. This was John Ruskin, who in 1843—the year in which Turner painted ‘The Approach to Venice’ – published the first volume of his Modern Painters, an epoch-making book, the real subject of which was the superiority of Turner to all painters past and present. Henceforward, however others might laugh at and ridicule his magical color visions, Turner now had an enthusiastic defender whose opinions yearly became more authoritative and more widely respected. It is no exaggeration to say that to the constant eulogy of Ruskin is due in no small measure the universal esteem in which Turner is held today.
Though he never married, Turner had a natural liking for a quiet domestic existence, and after his father’s death he began to lead a double life. Under the assumed name of Booth he formed a connection with a woman who kept a house at 119 Cheyne Walk, where he had been accustomed occasionally to lodge, and ‘Puggy’ or ‘Admiral’ Booth became a well-known character in Chelsea, where he was reputed to be a retired mariner of eccentric disposition, fond of his glass, and never tired of watching the sun. On the roof of the house in Cheyne Walk there was a gallery, and here ‘Mr Booth’ would sit for hours at dawn and sunset. The secret of his double existence was not discovered till the day before his death, for he had been accustomed to absent himself from Queen Anne Street for long intervals and therefore was not missed. Suddenly those who knew him as Turner learnt that the great artist was lying dead in a little house at Chelsea, where his last illness had seized him, and where he died on December 19, 1851. The body was removed to the house in Queen Anne Street, and afterwards buried in the crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral.
Turner left a fortune of £140,000, and after making a number of small annuities left the bulk of it for the benefit of art and artists; but his will, drawn by himself, was so vague and unskillfully framed that, after four years litigation, a compromise was arranged on the advice of the Lord Chancellor. The Royal Academy received £20000, which is set aside as the Turner Fund for the relief of poor artists not members of their body, and the National Gallery acquired the magnificent gift of 362 oil paintings, 135 finished water colors, 1757 studies in color, and thousands of drawings and sketches. The task of sifting, arranging, and cataloguing the water colors and sketches which Turner bequeathed to the nation was rightly placed in the sympathetic hands of his great advocate, John Ruskin.
The life of Turner, as we have seen, was full of strangeness and contradictions, and it is possible he may have inherited some of his eccentricities from his mother, a woman of fierce temper, who eventually became insane. There was little correspodence between his art and his life, for, as Mr E V Lucas has justly said: ‘Turner’s works are marvels of loveliness and grandeur; Turner was grubby, miserly, jealous, and squalid in his tastes. He saw visions and glorified even what was already glorious; and he deliberately chose to live in houses think with grime, and often to consort with inferior persons.’ The evidence before us compels us to believe that he was really happier as ‘Puggy Booth’ with a few cronies in a Chelsea bar-parlor than as ‘the famous Mr Turner’ in the company of his patron, Lord Egremont, or in the hospitable mansion of Mr Fawkes of Farnley Hall.
The Rise Of Landscape Painting (continued)
In 1840, when Turner was sixty five, he met a young man of twenty one, fresh from Oxford, who, from the time he first saw the illustrations to Roger’s Italy, had worshipped the genius of Turner, and was destined to become his persistent and most eloquent champion. This was John Ruskin, who in 1843—the year in which Turner painted ‘The Approach to Venice’ – published the first volume of his Modern Painters, an epoch-making book, the real subject of which was the superiority of Turner to all painters past and present. Henceforward, however others might laugh at and ridicule his magical color visions, Turner now had an enthusiastic defender whose opinions yearly became more authoritative and more widely respected. It is no exaggeration to say that to the constant eulogy of Ruskin is due in no small measure the universal esteem in which Turner is held today.
Though he never married, Turner had a natural liking for a quiet domestic existence, and after his father’s death he began to lead a double life. Under the assumed name of Booth he formed a connection with a woman who kept a house at 119 Cheyne Walk, where he had been accustomed occasionally to lodge, and ‘Puggy’ or ‘Admiral’ Booth became a well-known character in Chelsea, where he was reputed to be a retired mariner of eccentric disposition, fond of his glass, and never tired of watching the sun. On the roof of the house in Cheyne Walk there was a gallery, and here ‘Mr Booth’ would sit for hours at dawn and sunset. The secret of his double existence was not discovered till the day before his death, for he had been accustomed to absent himself from Queen Anne Street for long intervals and therefore was not missed. Suddenly those who knew him as Turner learnt that the great artist was lying dead in a little house at Chelsea, where his last illness had seized him, and where he died on December 19, 1851. The body was removed to the house in Queen Anne Street, and afterwards buried in the crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral.
Turner left a fortune of £140,000, and after making a number of small annuities left the bulk of it for the benefit of art and artists; but his will, drawn by himself, was so vague and unskillfully framed that, after four years litigation, a compromise was arranged on the advice of the Lord Chancellor. The Royal Academy received £20000, which is set aside as the Turner Fund for the relief of poor artists not members of their body, and the National Gallery acquired the magnificent gift of 362 oil paintings, 135 finished water colors, 1757 studies in color, and thousands of drawings and sketches. The task of sifting, arranging, and cataloguing the water colors and sketches which Turner bequeathed to the nation was rightly placed in the sympathetic hands of his great advocate, John Ruskin.
The life of Turner, as we have seen, was full of strangeness and contradictions, and it is possible he may have inherited some of his eccentricities from his mother, a woman of fierce temper, who eventually became insane. There was little correspodence between his art and his life, for, as Mr E V Lucas has justly said: ‘Turner’s works are marvels of loveliness and grandeur; Turner was grubby, miserly, jealous, and squalid in his tastes. He saw visions and glorified even what was already glorious; and he deliberately chose to live in houses think with grime, and often to consort with inferior persons.’ The evidence before us compels us to believe that he was really happier as ‘Puggy Booth’ with a few cronies in a Chelsea bar-parlor than as ‘the famous Mr Turner’ in the company of his patron, Lord Egremont, or in the hospitable mansion of Mr Fawkes of Farnley Hall.
The Rise Of Landscape Painting (continued)
Miloš Forman
Milos Forman is an actor + screenwriter + professor + two-time Academy Award-winning film director + the 1975 adaptation of Ken Kesey's novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, won five Academy Awards (my favorite) + other great movies include Hair (musical, 1979) + Ragtime (1981) + Amadeus (1984) + Valmont (1989) + The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996) + Man on the Moon (1999) + Goya's Ghosts (2006) + I love his movies.
Useful links:
www.milosforman.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milo%C5%A1_Forman
Useful links:
www.milosforman.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milo%C5%A1_Forman
Gold Update
Quite recently the Group of Seven (G-7) approved the sale of gold by the International Monetary Fund (IMF) from April as part of a broad reform of its budget, but the big question is whether the U.S Congress (USA is the largest single member nation + the largest single contributor of the IMF's gold) is going to authorize the reform + I think a win or a loss for gold may depend on the precise size, timing and methodology of the disposals + the best thing to do is to watch the US dollar and equity markets (prime movers for the precious metal) and see if the proposed sale is going to impact gold market prices.
Useful links:
www.imf.org
www.bis.org
www.ecb.int
www.thegartmanletter.com
www.thebulliondesk.com
www.kitco.com
Useful links:
www.imf.org
www.bis.org
www.ecb.int
www.thegartmanletter.com
www.thebulliondesk.com
www.kitco.com
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Signs Of The Time
It was interesting to read the comment (s) by Israel's largest diamond dealer Lev Leviev at the the Third International Diamond Conference in Tel Aviv, 2008 about the state of the diamond industry: 'You can’t blame the diamond producers for their desire to achieve the highest prices possible + oil, gold, coal and other minerals saw prices rise 300-400 percent in the last five years – much more than diamonds + we grew second and third tier polishers that grew with us + each gets a different (category of) diamonds, and they don’t compete with each other + the competition between manufacturers when they all sell the same items causes them to lower prices.'
I think he is right + the industry need a unified strategy + it's all about effective/mutually beneficial distribution methodology + at the end of the day it's all about profit not prices.
I think he is right + the industry need a unified strategy + it's all about effective/mutually beneficial distribution methodology + at the end of the day it's all about profit not prices.
Microtrends
Microtrends: The Small Forces Behind Tomorrow's Big Changes by Mark Penn + E. Kinney Zalesne is intriguing + it makes you think differently + we are a collection of communities with many individual tastes and lifestyles + I liked the book.
Herbie Hancock
Herbert Hancock is an Academy Award and Grammy award-winning American jazz pianist and composer + he is one of jazz music's most important and influential pianists and composers + he blends elements of rock, funk, and soul to create that otherness.
Useful links:
www.herbiehancock.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herbie_Hancock
Useful links:
www.herbiehancock.com
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herbie_Hancock
Jewelers Of Renaissance
(via 5000 Years of Gems and Jewelry) Frances Rogers and Alice Beard writes:
8. Rings Innumerable
Among the advantages possessed by rings of the Renaissance was the prodigious quantity of them that one could (and not infrequently did) wear all at the same time. Rings on all ten fingers, counting the thumbs, and three rings to a finger—as shown in a contemporary portrait—a display like that runs into numbers. Men as well as women loaded their hands with rings. There were rings for ‘every finger joint up to the very nail.’ In a luxury-loving age quantity was a most desirable asset. Perhaps the dandy stopped somewhere short of losing power to bend his fingers by reason of their ornaments, but extras could always be strung on his necklace, or fastened on his golden hatband or swung pendent from his sword hilt or find a place on a rosary tied to his forearm. There was always room for spare rings when space on fingers was pre-empted.
There were rings to be worn outside gloves and gloves slashed for the purpose of showing the jeweled rings worn under the glove. The list is interminable. It is impossible to bring all rings within definite limits of classification. Many of them overlapped and served two or more purposes.
The following classifications are loosely grouped for convenience of references, and therefore disclaim the too technical distinctions. We will consider rings under four headings:
- Ecclesiastical rings
- Curative rings
- Rings of romance and sentiment
- Fancy or gadget rings
- Ecclesiastical Rings
Members of the higher clergy, even as the Roman senators of classical times, wore rings as badges of office. A special type of ring was an essential accessory to the canonical vestments. But the rings of the clergy had also a symbolic significance according to the precious stones with which they were set. A sapphire, blue like the heavens, meant purity; a ruby, red like the rising sun, meant glory; an emerald, a green like the cool verdure of earth, meant tranquility; and the clear, limpid crystal meant simplicity. These rings were made especially for the individual who wore them, and when he died his ring was usually buried with him.
The sapphire had long been the gem assigned to cardinals, tradition having honored the sapphire as the stone on which was written the Law given to Moses. According to a decree issued by the Pope in the ninth century the cardinal wore his ring on the right hand, the hand which gave the blessing.
During great ceremonies, certain types of clerical rings were worn, not on the bare hand but over elaborate gloves which were themselves sometimes heavily bejeweled. These rings were large, though not as surprisingly large as the so-called ‘papal rings’ of the later Middle Ages, which were so massive that obviously they were never intended to be worn on the finger.
Papal rings have been found in various countries, but no record has been discovered which would explain their use. It has been surmised that they acted as credentials for a messenger when he was sent by the Pope to a king, and probably the weighty ring was worn suspended by a cord about the neck. This supposition has been arrived at from the fact that a papal ring often bore the combined arms of the Pope and the king, and although elaborately carved, the materials used had little intrinsic value. Often such rings were only gilded bronze and the ‘stone’ nothing but paste, or perhaps crystal set over colored foil. Its very lack of value ensured safe conduct for the papal ring on its various journeyings—such an intrinsically valueless jewel would be of small interest to any bandit even though the woods were full of these gentry.
Customs of the Church are not wont to change with the rapidity of secular customs. Rings worn as sacred emblems of the Church sometimes remain unchanged for centuries. A most interesting example is the Ring of the Fisherman, symbol of the Pope’s office as head of the Catholic Church. From medieval times, through the Renaissance and down to our own times the Fisherman’s Ring has survived the changing boundary lines both of land and of thought.
The ring is made of gold and engraved with a device of St Peter fishing from a boat. Every pope wears the Fisherman’s Ring; but although it is the same in form and meaning, it is not actually the same ring. At the death of a pope the ring of office is removed from his finger and later it is broken. A new Fisherman’s Ring is made for the new pope, the title which he chooses is engraved upon it, and it is then placed upon his finger during the coronation ceremonies.
To be worn by the layman, there was the ‘decade ring,’ which could be used in place of a rosary. It had ten round projecting knobs—equivalent to beads—and a crucifix or a Madonna, or sometimes the sacred monogram and three nails engraved on the bezel. An Ave was repeated as each knob was touched and a Pater Noster at the bezel.
Sometimes the religious ring was a reliquary. There is a record of a piece of the True Cross set in a ring, and also a ring containing a ‘relick of St Peter’s finger.’
A ring, by reason of its circular form, signifies eternity. Therefore it was considered best fitted of all jewelry to bear an emblem which should remind the wearer of the transitory nature of life and the necessity of being prepared for death. Many of the religious rings worn by the laity were intended as a none too gentle reminder that all is vanity. One of the most favored designs was a skull and crossbones with an inscription, such as ‘Behold-The-End,’ ‘Dye-To-Live,’ ‘Rather-Death-Than-Fals-Fayth,’ or some equally chilling admonition.
Represented in one form or another, this idea of remembering death in the midst of life can be traced back to the ancient Egyptians. In medieval England, under supervision of the Church, it was called to attention in the form of a morality play showing how death comes in contact with all classes of humanity from the Pope down. In Italy, painters and sculptors decorated church walls with the grim theme.
At first the various representations were grave and solemn, but later they assumed the nature of a dance in which Death led his reluctant victims to their inevitable fate—the sardonic danse macabre.
Toward the middle of the sixteenth century the warning memento mori took on the guise of a fashion, greatly stimulated by the favorite of Henry II of France, Diane de Poitiers. The lady, being a widow, wore black and white, and much of her jewelry bore symbols of death. The French court followed suit, and the gruesome style was set.
Jewelers Of Renaissance (continued)
8. Rings Innumerable
Among the advantages possessed by rings of the Renaissance was the prodigious quantity of them that one could (and not infrequently did) wear all at the same time. Rings on all ten fingers, counting the thumbs, and three rings to a finger—as shown in a contemporary portrait—a display like that runs into numbers. Men as well as women loaded their hands with rings. There were rings for ‘every finger joint up to the very nail.’ In a luxury-loving age quantity was a most desirable asset. Perhaps the dandy stopped somewhere short of losing power to bend his fingers by reason of their ornaments, but extras could always be strung on his necklace, or fastened on his golden hatband or swung pendent from his sword hilt or find a place on a rosary tied to his forearm. There was always room for spare rings when space on fingers was pre-empted.
There were rings to be worn outside gloves and gloves slashed for the purpose of showing the jeweled rings worn under the glove. The list is interminable. It is impossible to bring all rings within definite limits of classification. Many of them overlapped and served two or more purposes.
The following classifications are loosely grouped for convenience of references, and therefore disclaim the too technical distinctions. We will consider rings under four headings:
- Ecclesiastical rings
- Curative rings
- Rings of romance and sentiment
- Fancy or gadget rings
- Ecclesiastical Rings
Members of the higher clergy, even as the Roman senators of classical times, wore rings as badges of office. A special type of ring was an essential accessory to the canonical vestments. But the rings of the clergy had also a symbolic significance according to the precious stones with which they were set. A sapphire, blue like the heavens, meant purity; a ruby, red like the rising sun, meant glory; an emerald, a green like the cool verdure of earth, meant tranquility; and the clear, limpid crystal meant simplicity. These rings were made especially for the individual who wore them, and when he died his ring was usually buried with him.
The sapphire had long been the gem assigned to cardinals, tradition having honored the sapphire as the stone on which was written the Law given to Moses. According to a decree issued by the Pope in the ninth century the cardinal wore his ring on the right hand, the hand which gave the blessing.
During great ceremonies, certain types of clerical rings were worn, not on the bare hand but over elaborate gloves which were themselves sometimes heavily bejeweled. These rings were large, though not as surprisingly large as the so-called ‘papal rings’ of the later Middle Ages, which were so massive that obviously they were never intended to be worn on the finger.
Papal rings have been found in various countries, but no record has been discovered which would explain their use. It has been surmised that they acted as credentials for a messenger when he was sent by the Pope to a king, and probably the weighty ring was worn suspended by a cord about the neck. This supposition has been arrived at from the fact that a papal ring often bore the combined arms of the Pope and the king, and although elaborately carved, the materials used had little intrinsic value. Often such rings were only gilded bronze and the ‘stone’ nothing but paste, or perhaps crystal set over colored foil. Its very lack of value ensured safe conduct for the papal ring on its various journeyings—such an intrinsically valueless jewel would be of small interest to any bandit even though the woods were full of these gentry.
Customs of the Church are not wont to change with the rapidity of secular customs. Rings worn as sacred emblems of the Church sometimes remain unchanged for centuries. A most interesting example is the Ring of the Fisherman, symbol of the Pope’s office as head of the Catholic Church. From medieval times, through the Renaissance and down to our own times the Fisherman’s Ring has survived the changing boundary lines both of land and of thought.
The ring is made of gold and engraved with a device of St Peter fishing from a boat. Every pope wears the Fisherman’s Ring; but although it is the same in form and meaning, it is not actually the same ring. At the death of a pope the ring of office is removed from his finger and later it is broken. A new Fisherman’s Ring is made for the new pope, the title which he chooses is engraved upon it, and it is then placed upon his finger during the coronation ceremonies.
To be worn by the layman, there was the ‘decade ring,’ which could be used in place of a rosary. It had ten round projecting knobs—equivalent to beads—and a crucifix or a Madonna, or sometimes the sacred monogram and three nails engraved on the bezel. An Ave was repeated as each knob was touched and a Pater Noster at the bezel.
Sometimes the religious ring was a reliquary. There is a record of a piece of the True Cross set in a ring, and also a ring containing a ‘relick of St Peter’s finger.’
A ring, by reason of its circular form, signifies eternity. Therefore it was considered best fitted of all jewelry to bear an emblem which should remind the wearer of the transitory nature of life and the necessity of being prepared for death. Many of the religious rings worn by the laity were intended as a none too gentle reminder that all is vanity. One of the most favored designs was a skull and crossbones with an inscription, such as ‘Behold-The-End,’ ‘Dye-To-Live,’ ‘Rather-Death-Than-Fals-Fayth,’ or some equally chilling admonition.
Represented in one form or another, this idea of remembering death in the midst of life can be traced back to the ancient Egyptians. In medieval England, under supervision of the Church, it was called to attention in the form of a morality play showing how death comes in contact with all classes of humanity from the Pope down. In Italy, painters and sculptors decorated church walls with the grim theme.
At first the various representations were grave and solemn, but later they assumed the nature of a dance in which Death led his reluctant victims to their inevitable fate—the sardonic danse macabre.
Toward the middle of the sixteenth century the warning memento mori took on the guise of a fashion, greatly stimulated by the favorite of Henry II of France, Diane de Poitiers. The lady, being a widow, wore black and white, and much of her jewelry bore symbols of death. The French court followed suit, and the gruesome style was set.
Jewelers Of Renaissance (continued)
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