Sunday, July 01, 2001
Went down to the Art Gallery of Ontario to see The Sanders portrait -- which is purported to be a recently discovered portrait of The Bard. It was supposedly painted in 1603 by the man who did the background scenery for The Globe, passed down through 12 generations to a Canadian descendant. This much is obvious to me: if it's a forgery, it's a damned good one. I would have loved to have taken a picture of it with my digital camera, but cameras are not allowed in the galleries, and besides, an imposing-looking Sihk guard was watching over it. Made do with buying the poster instead. The picture was situated in the center of a darkened room, contained in a special glass case allowing viewers to see both sides of the picture (including the faded notes made by an earlier Shakespearian portrait-scholar at the beginning of the last century). On the walls around it were descriptions and illustrations of authenticated portraits and known forgeries of Shakespeare. There were also extracts of scientific analyses done on the portrait, including an X-ray, radio-carbon dating info and tree-ring dating of the "canvas" (apparently made from Baltic wood dated between 1595-1601). While I couldn't take a picture, I did have my trusty Palm m100 with me, and I jotted down the following, which seemed to sum up the scientific analysis of the portrait so far:
Scientific analysis of the Sanders portrait's oak panel, paper label and pigments tend to support a date at the beginning of the 17th century, nevertheless none of the tests proves conclusively that it was actually painted in 1603. All of these materials could conceivably have been acquired in the 19th century to produce this picture, which was first published in 1909. The degree of sophistication of such a presumed forgery -- as if anticipating the scientific techniques that have been employed to study it -- would be remarkable indeed. The Ashbourne portrait, an obvious forgery, provides a striking contrast.In a way, it almost seems too good to be true that the painting could be real – especially since it seems an almost romantic image of the man – but the painting style seems right, and it does bear a striking resemblance to the authentic famous Droeshout Engraving, though of a much younger man. (Interesting piece of trivia: Droeshout was only 15 when he engraved the image of the late Shakespeare for the First Folio, which explains much of its amateurish quality). While I was at the AGO, I also saw the Rubens and His Age exhibition of paintings on loan from The Hermitage Museum. It was a good exhibition, but on the whole it left me cold. I think it has to do more with my lack of real interest in this period, and I found myself enjoying the gallery of Henry Moore sculptures and Inuit art more. My late father would have loved the Hermitage show, as he enjoyed Flemish paintings of this period, especially Rubens and van Dyck. On my way to the AGO I walked up University, and found that the north-bound street was blocked off to provide a stage for the DuMaurier Jazz Festival. I was in no hurry, so I stayed around for part of a set by a jazz-playing trio. It being Canada Day, somebody came up to me with a little Canadian flag, which I promptly stuck in my backpack. It was a cool, windy day, fully half the temperature (about 17C or so) of the previous day (which hit 34C according to the thermometer at home in the afternoon). Afterwards, I headed down to The World’s Biggest Bookstore, where I used my birthday gift certificate to pick up a copy of the latest KMT and a copy of Wide as the Waters. The latter book is about the history of the development of the English bible. Not normally a subject I'd be interested in (what can I say, I'm an atheist at heart), but I have always been interested in Elizabethan literature and several books I have read have had interesting bits to say about the likes of Tyndale and Wycliffe, the earliest translators of the Bible into English. I ended up choosing this book at the last minute instead of a more scholarly look at the life of Chaucer, and being unable to find a book on the birth of libraries. What can I say? I just don't go for "fluffy" reads much.
Just watching CBS' Sunday Morning, and just saw Leonard Maltin's review of A.I. All I have to say is that he's got it right. I don't always agree with his reviews, but his views are most like mine of any critic I've heard/read about this movie. The review is not up on the site as I write, but it should appear here when it does. I also note that two of the reviews of the film by "michael" and Jon Katz at the venerable Slashdot are insightful, and worth a look at (though spoilers abound). Book Review: Master Pieces: The Architecture of Chess
This is a fun little book, perfect for picking up and reading in bits and pieces. It has been on my bed-side table for several months, and I have read it a few pages at a time since sometime this past Spring, when I picked it up as a treat to myself afetr getting my last royalty cheque. Many books that look at the history of chess never really examine the actual art and artistry that went behind the design of the pieces that have been used to play the game, and that is the focus of this book. The author looks at the development of chess as a game, and how the pieces evolved across various cultures: armoured elephants evolving into rooks, Islamic viziers becoming the Queen in Western chess sets, and the transformation of abstract pieces into the pinnacle of figurative pieces carved from such materials as ivory, bone and wood. The book also looks briefly at some historic players of chess (such as Napoleon and Catherine the Great) and the sets they used, chess as art in the 20th century (such as Marcel Duchamp and Man Ray), and the interesting war-time sets made by prisoners of war. A fascinating sideways-glance at history as seen through the pieces of a simple game.
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]