... something completely different

Mona Lisa Nonsense

According to the Times Online, some presumably attention-seeking Italian "scientists" have asked for the body of Leonardo da Vinci to be exhumed in order to prove that the Mona Lisa is a self-portrait. No sensible person would go along with this stunt, though as with much about Mona Lisa, the less-cool heads may prevail. However, I've seen a number of references to this nutty project.

All kinds of factual information makes the proposal look dumb. The article itself mentions that no-one knows if it's really the body of Leonardo da Vinci because "The church in which Leonardo was buried was destroyed after the French revolution of 1789. The remains were reburied in the castle’s smaller chapel of Saint-Hubert in 1874, beneath an inscription that describes them as 'presumed' to be the master’s." The stunt men also want to test the body to see if it's really Leonardo, claiming to know of "descendants," but there aren't any of those: Leonardo was very famous for being gay.

The reason why they think the Mona Lisa is a self-portrait is that they claim they know what Leonardo looked like (the famous "self-portrait" of an old man), and they claim they don't know who she was. Here are a few facts:

• The so-called self-portrait of Leonardo as an old man has never been definitively shown to be either by him or of him. It was discovered in the late 19th century and the identification as a self-portrait was at best wishful thinking. This painting is an essential prop for the dubious claim that Leonardo and Mona Lisa are the same face.
  
• Leonardo and many other painters of his time used conventions of proportion of faces which lead to exactly the type of similarities that are supposed to demonstrate that the Mona Lisa is a self-portrait. Computer merging of the two portraits looks convincing, but in fact a clever computer manipulator could make an equally convincing case for many other portraits if they were motivated. Again: wishful thinking takes over.
• There's actually solid evidence of Mona Lisa's identity as a specific historic person named Lisa del Giocondo. See this: Mona Lisa's Identity, Solved for Good?
  

There are a lot of very gullible people when it comes to Mona Lisa. The article's conclusion is insightful:

Nicholas Turner, a former curator of drawings at the Getty Museum, said: “It sounds a bit fanciful, slightly mad, as if the Leonardo bug has taken hold too firmly in the minds of these people. We know that Mona Lisa was a specific person, she existed and it’s her portrait. If Leonardo heard about all this, he’d have a good chuckle.”

For more debunking, see this neuroscientist's view of why Mona Lisa's smile is so mysterious: What is it with Mona Lisa's Smile?

Mona Lisa Poem

In the Guardian's Book Blog today: a review of a poem, published in 1892, about Mona Lisa:

Poem of the week: La Gioconda by Michael Field

In the article is a biographical sketch of the authors -- two women who wrote collaboratively under the name Michael Field. I find this interesting. The interpretation of the poem seems overwrought -- but most interpretations of poems seem that way to me. Here is their overview of the poem and the book it came from:

"La Gioconda" is from their second published collection Sight and Song (1892). All the poems are about pictures, the stated purpose of the authors being "to translate into verse what the lines and colours of certain chosen pictures sing in themselves; to express not so much what these pictures are to the poet, but rather what poetry they objectively incarnate". The use of "song" and "sing" is suggestive of a synaesthetic approach, and there are poems in the volume whose lineation seems to attempt rhythmic reflections of visual effects. "La Gioconda" is not one of these: like its subject, it is focused and formal. It might almost have been a sonnet.

See what I mean?

At the DIA

"Avedon Fashion Photographs 1944-2000" was the wonderful exhibit we saw today at the Detroit Institute of Arts. Lucky us! It was the last day. We arrived before noon, and there was no line -- but as we were leaving, the line went all the way through the roped-in waiting area and out of sight.




No photography was allowed inside the exhibit, but I've found a few of my favorites from the show. The choice of photographs was extensive and remarkable. Avedon's photographic techniques were fascinating. Almost all were black and white photos. In many of them, he seemed to like the black and the white, avoiding shades of gray as much as possible. A model wearing a black dress (or apparently black) would be shown on a set of steps washed out to almost white. A model in a white dress would be photographed among a group of people in tuxedos and indistinct black dresses. One of the most famous: a model in a black and white dress leaning on a circus elephant.

Avedon was incredibly creative in using a model as an actress so that a fashion photograph would also tell a story. The elephant photo is definitely one of these, as is a photo of a very high-style model sitting next to an afghan hound that seems to take on her facial expression.

Lighting played a huge role in the way he created these remarkable images. One memorable one showed a woman in a hat with a sort of burst of net, lit from both the side and from behind so that she was outlined and light came through the net. Even in the studio portraits with plain gray backgrounds, he used lighting with great skill and imagination.

Although these fashion photos undoubtedly do their job in emphasizing the gowns, coats, hats, or hairstyles, the photographic techniques make them works of art independent of this goal.


Not to mention the way he used Paris backgrounds and glamorous locations to create his distinctive atmosphere.

Hiking at Eberwhite Woods

Want publicity? Announce something about Mona Lisa

Some so-called researcher in Italy just announced that he has "diagnosed" the illnesses of a large number of subjects of famous paintings. The pathetically credulous news media take this without any grains of salt at all, and announce the claim as if it's a real discovery -- especially featuring what he says about Mona Lisa. Like Linus with Lucy's football, they constantly fall for anyone who claims a new insight about Mona Lisa.

The BBC article about this (dare I call it a hoax?) linked to a number of similar stories about Mona Lisa. To show you what I mean about credibility, here are some of the headlines with dates:

• Mona Lisa 'had high cholesterol' (2010)
• Mona Lisa 'had brows and lashes' (2007)
• Mona Lisa 'happy', computer finds (2005)
• Mona Lisa smile secrets revealed (2003)
• Mona Lisa pregnancy theory mooted (2006)
  

To continue about the latest claim of medical insight: another, more sensational newspaper listed all the paintings "diagnosed" by this attention-seeking charlatan. (Only a charlatan would claim to diagnose diseases from a picture without other evidence. Would you let someone diagnose your illness from just a photo? Without even asking your symptoms? I don't think so.)

Here's the claim made about one painting, by Lucien Freud (right):

DUBBED "Big Sue", this 1995 painting by British artist Freud fetched an incredible $33million at auction.
DOCTOR'S NOTES: "There are many examples of obesity in art and the subject in this would be classified as obese."

How did this genius ever figure out that the woman in this painting is obese? Because she's called "Big Sue"? Because that's what it's famous for? How could they fall for such a shallow announcement? Most of his other claims are equally unimpressive, though he sometimes mentions more obscure conditions than obesity.

Jasper Johns at the National Gallery

A few days ago, we rushed through a Jasper Johns exhibit at the National Gallery in Washington. "The Seasons (Summer)" is one of many works to allude to great masterpieces in his way. I took a quick photo of this one, dated 1987, since it included a Mona Lisa.

The Newseum

The Newseum is a fairly new museum near the Capitol and the Mall in Washington where the Smithsonian and National Gallery are located. It's expensive (especially since the other museums are all free). I think the museum suffers from an identity problem. There are so many aspects of journalism, the press, and newspapers that seem to be missing. Example: there's virtually nothing about feature writing unless you count the name of the restaurant: "The Food Section." There are some aspects of investigative journalism, especially some history in the "4-D" film. What IS there, however, is compelling and worth seeing.

Clearly the sponsors of this very expensive museum want to preserve some memory of journalism as it was and is about to not be any more. A vast selection of old front pages with the biggest headlines of the last 100 years or so invite one to take a really long time to contemplate what the front page was like. Fascinating -- but I would have liked more background about the papers themselves and the writers. A display of all the photos to have won a Pulitzer prize was startling in how disturbing they were. Wars, natural disasters, and accidents are frequent themes. We had to leave because the children were reacting. Interesting.

TV journalism is well represented, with a number of studios where visitors standing against a blank screen can make "newscasts" or "weather reports." That's fun. Nearby are video screens with a game of being a journalist for kids, and other things I did not explore.

A special exhibit commemorated the 40th anniversary of Woodstock, stressing that journalists took the photos on display. A large section of the Berlin Wall, along with a full watchtower and a history of the Wall occupy a big section of the basement and the twisted remnant of the World Trade Center's control tower is also on display. Other than having been the subjects of news, their relationship to journalism isn't clarified, but the objects are well presented. Again, it's worthwhile, just somewhat unfocused.

The building is extremely impressive, as shown in the photos below. A huge glass elevator goes from the lower level (Berlin Wall in the background) up to the top where there's a fabulous panorama of the city.

Art

The Hirschorn Museum is a beautiful building with a fascinating collection of sculpture. From some of the lobbies you can see across the Mall to the history and natural history museums. Some of my favorites ---

A Giacometti

"Moonmad" by Max Ernst

Arthur Dove, "City Moon"

Calder -- I touched one of his mobiles and it moved

"Still Life: King of Diamonds" by Leger
I don't remember ever seeing this one.

"Tropes de Teens" by Stuart Davis

Len with a Miro

Conceptual: Joseph Kosuth's work IS its name:
"Four colors four words"

Growing

Miriam and Alice have each grown very fast recently. Miriam's measurements are on the left (or top, if your page is narrow), Alice's are on the right (or below):

The National Aquarium, Baltimore

We started with the dolphin show, and then walked through the many displays of sharks, rays, tropical fish, local seascapes, and the big Australian exhibit. We ended with the remarkable jelly fish room. It's a fantastic aquarium.

Miriam's second favorite animal is frogs, so they are well represented. Sharks are her seventeenth favorite, but they aren't easy to photograph.

White House Christmas

This morning we went to an exhibit of the famous Terra Cotta Warriors from the 2200-year-old tomb of the Chinese Emperor, as I illustrated here. Then we walked to the White House to see the Christmas tree, the giant menorah for Hanukkah, and the other Christmas displays. Around the tree are many little villages with lots of toy trains. A huge bonfire burns in a deep pit, and there's a small building housing Santa's workshop.


As we stood in line, we saw Santa's Naughty-Nice-O-Meter, and lots of toys being built and packed up for Santa's sleigh. Finally, we arrived at Santa's seat. First Miriam and alice met one of the elves, and then they talked to Santa and told him they wanted lots of books.

New Tea Set

Here in my china cabinet is the magnificent and tiny tea set that Carol made me! The cups are only around an inch high.

"Armageddon" by Max Hastings

Armageddon is the horrifying story of the last months of World War II. In fact, this book leaves me unable to say anything. I learned too much about the unmitigated suffering of innocent people, especially children, and the corruption of so many who could have been good. See my food blog for a few thoughts on the unimaginable mass starvation that the book described.

My New Bike

Here is my wonderful Hanukkah present. Note: I tested it briefly without a helmet but when I took a ride, I wore mine. It rides beautifully. What luck that we have a brief respite from the deep cold we've been having.

Hanukkah Song

Happy Hanukkah!

Olive Kitteridge

Elizabeth Strout's book Olive Kitteridge is irresistible. I really couldn't put it down, and that doesn't happen to me very often. A friend loaned it to me yesterday morning, and I've finished reading it.

Olive Kitteridge is a set of nearly independent stories about the people of a town in Maine. Sometimes the story is about Olive, but in some stories there's barely a single glimpse of her -- she appears at a party or a concert, and the character who is central to that story thinks about his or her reaction to Olive. So it's a composite picture of Olive from many points of view. Her students from her career as a junior-high school math teacher, other teachers and colleagues, people with stores in town, her son Christopher, her husband Henry, women that Henry is attracted to (but never is unfaithful with), men that she's attracted to (but never is unfaithful with) -- all see her, but never quite know what's going on to make her act as she does.

Olive is not likeable, but she's horrifyingly clear-sighted. What often makes her unlikeable or odd or gruff or moody is that she sees everything so clearly, and offends people by her reactions or by what she says. Some stories take place when she's younger, but most of the stories are about her late 60s and early 70s, when she's fat, unhappy with herself, and fully clear that everyone gets sick and dies in a depressing and often undignified way. She has no patience for euphemism or comfort on this topic, and is brusque if people treat her as a old woman or try to gloss over what she can't help seeing.

Vivid events and characters make the stories individually very readable and enjoyable. Every other story is inside the mind of a different character, alternating with stories of Olive herself. Each story, whatever its center, advances your understanding of Olive and how she seems to people. In contrast, another novel I read recently, Brooklyn, is 100% inside the mind of the main character, but is named Brooklyn because that's what it's really about, while this one is not about the town where events occur, but about a character who sometimes only pops up for a moment.

The most amazing story in the book (which my friend who loaned me the book also singled out) is about Olive's son's wedding. Olive can't stand the woman her son has chosen, but tries to act like a normal mother of the groom. However, she overhears people making snide remarks about the flower-patterned dress she made for the wedding. She snaps, and acts up -- among other things, she steals one shoe and a bra from the bride's closet. We follow her thought process as she goes through with her bizarre action, hiding the objects in her large purse under a piece of blueberry cake that she plans to enjoy alone -- she doesn't want to eat with all the other guests. I can't quite capture the unique quality of writing that makes this such a good story.

Mona Lisa at work

From Reuters:

Paris's top museums shut on Wednesday and the Mona Lisa kept her fans waiting as staff went on strike, protesting against cost cuts that they see as a threat to priceless art.

I'm just wondering -- is Mona Lisa a union member?

More on Typewriters

From the Guardian online, another article about Cormac McCarthy's typewriter and the views of other authors who used these obsolete machines. Don DeLillo and Frederick Forsyth are the lead examples of typewriter users who insist that typing -- nothing electronic -- must be part of their creative process. Hemingway, we learn, "liked to bash away at a 1940s Royal between bouts of drinking, fighting and chasing women and bulls." And Jack Kerouac typed 100-plus words a minute, which prompted Capote to say: "That's not writing, that's typing."

Typewriters

I always hated typewriters. I could never type a whole sentence without an error. I love word processing software. I loved more primitive mark-up languages at first introduction -- even when the editing was line-oriented and so primitive you can no longer imagine it.

Today, for no apparent reason, I saw four articles with references to typewriters:

• I read about the last typewriter repair man in Ann Arbor. He spends most of his time doing something else. Bigger offices still have a typewriter here or there for filling out forms, but they use them so little that there's not much work to be done on them. Parts are scarce.
  
• In the New York Times, I read about an auction of writer Cormac McCarthy's Olivetti manual typewriter which came from a Knoxville, Tenn., pawnshop around 1963. He wrote: "I have typed on this typewriter every book I have written including three not published. Including all drafts and correspondence I would put this at about five million words over a period of 50 years." Proceeds will go to the Santa Fe Institute.
• I read that Mark Twain was the first writer ever to submit a typewritten manuscript. But I forgot where I read that.
• And I read that some one has done the famous experiment of seeing whether monkeys will type out the works of Shakespeare. "After one month - admittedly not an 'infinite' amount of time - the monkeys had partially destroyed the machine, used it as a lavatory, and mostly typed the letter 's.'" So they probably would never have made it to Romeo and Juliet.