Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Hybrid. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Hybrid. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, January 24, 2021

Hybrid

Hybrid (pronounced hahy-brid)

(1) In genetics (plant biology, zoology etc), the offspring of two animals or plants of different breeds, varieties, species, or genera, especially as produced through human manipulation for specific genetic characteristics.

(2) In medical anthropology, a person or group of persons produced by the interaction or crossbreeding of two unlike cultures, traditions etc.

(3) A vehicle that combines an internal-combustion engine with one or more electric motors powered by batteries.

(4) In linguistics, composed of elements originally drawn from different languages, as a word.

(5) In the pedigree pet industry, the modern term, replacing the previous mongrel to describe offspring of mixed origin; contested in the industry.

(6) As a descriptor, anything derived from heterogeneous sources, or composed of elements of different or incongruous kinds; animal, vegetable, mineral or weightless.

(7) Any device which can fulfil two distinct purposes such as "mountain" bikes which can also be used on the road.

(8) In physics, an electromagnetic wave having components of both electric and magnetic field vectors in the direction of propagation.

(9) In golf, a club that combines the characteristics of an iron and a wood.

(10) In electronics, a circuit constructed of individual devices bonded to a substrate or PCB.

(11) In computing, a computer that is part analog computer and part digital computer (and speculatively (1) part conventional and part quantum or (2) part machine and part biological).

1601: From the Middle English hybrid (offspring of plants or animals of different variety or species), from the Latin hybrida, a variant of ibrida (mongrel), originally describing the offspring of a tame sow and wild boar, the origin of which is unknown but etymologists suggest it likely evolved under influence of the Ancient Greek ὕβρις (húbris) (outrage) and it was cognate with the Latin iber & imbrum (mule).  Hybrid was first noted in English in 1601 but use was scant outside of technical use until stimulated in the 1850s by the boom in the sciences of botany and plant breeding, the adjective attested from 1716.  The first hybrid car was the Lohner-Porsche Mixte Hybrid, released in 1901 and based on Ferdinand Porsche’s (1875-1951) earlier electric vehicle, the Electromobile although the first car actually badged as "hybrid" to indicate an "automobile powered by (1) an engine running on electricity and (2) an engine running on fossil fuel was released only in 2002.  The noun hybridity (state or condition of being hybrid) dates from 1823 while the intransitive verb hybridize (cross or inter-breed) was from 1802, the transitive sense of "cause to interbreed" emerging in 1823.  Hybrid is a noun & adjective, hybridize is a verb and hybridity, hybridism & (the awful) hybridisation are nouns; the noun plural is hybrids.

Categories of Eyelash Extensions

Classic Eyelash Extensions give a semi-permanent mascara look.  The technique is to attach what’s as close as possible to the thickness of the natural lash to each strand able to support the load.  They can be applied in different lengths, thereby emulating either the look of mascara only or something both longer and lusher.  Lifespan is two-four weeks depending on body chemistry, lifestyle and care routines.

Clusters or Party lashes are intended to be single-use, worn for no more than a day although, under good conditions, they can last several.  It’s not recommended to wear them for more than two-three days because, being much heavier than other extensions, they can cause damage.

Italian volume.  The lovely "eyelashes" on the Lamborghini P400 Miura (1966-1968) were carried over to the P400S (1968-1971) but were unfortunately not used on the P400SV (1971-1973).  Because of the fundamental design, the Miura had flaws which could to some extent be ameliorated but never wholly fixed.  Few now care because it's so achingly beautiful.    

Express lashes are the A&E of the profession.  Done in minutes, the strands are simply glued to the natural lashes and, because eyelashes grow at different rates, damage can happen if they’re worn too long.  They don’t provide a look as good as other techniques but, apart from their intended purposes of cheapness and speed, there exists in subsets of several groups, the niche market of the obviously fake.

A mix of Classic Lash Extensions and either Pre-Made or Russian Volumes, Hybrid volumes make possible some dramatically textured looks but, unless the mix is purely symmetrical, it needs a trained operator to weave a pleasing design.  The most popular contemporary interpretation usually blends strategically-placed long lengths of classic lashes, filled-in between with volume extensions.  Some operators call this look The Spiky.

Russian Volume modelled by Lindsay Lohan, 2010.  One of a series of monochrome images by photographer Tyler Shields (b 1982).

Real Russian Volume lashes are much lighter than classics and are manipulated by hand, with special tweezers, to create a fan or bouquet of lashes which is then placed onto a single natural lash.  Slow and expensive, each fan is wrapped around the natural lash, not just placed on top and that creates greater structural integrity so they tend to be longer-lasting.  Some lower-cost operators sell what they describe as Russian Volume using pre-made fans which are just placed on top.

Pre Made Volumes are fans or bouquets of lightweight lash extensions, glued or heat-bonded at the base.  They emulate the look of Russian Volume but don’t last as long; at a distance the two are indistinguishable but up-close, the pre-made fans can’t match the flow and flutter of the voluminous Russian.


Thursday, February 1, 2024

Mule

Mule (pronounced myule)

(1) The sterile offspring of a female horse and a male donkey; a generalised term for any hybrid between the donkey and the horse.

(2) In informal use, a very stubborn person.

(3) In botany, any sterile hybrid.

(4) As drug mule, slang for a person paid to carry or transport contraband, especially drugs, for a smuggler.

(5) A small locomotive used for pulling rail cars, as in a coal yard or on an industrial site, or for towing, as of ships through canal locks.

(6) As spinning mule, a machine for spinning cotton or other fibers into yarn and winding the yarn on spindles.

(7) A style of open-backed women’s shoe, historically a lounging slipper that covers the toes and instep or only the instep.

(8) In nautical use, a large triangular staysail set between two masts and having its clew set well aft.

(9) In numismatics, a hybrid coin having the obverse of one issue and the reverse of the succeeding issue, or vice versa.

(10) A cocktail in various flavors (Jamaican Mule, Kentucky Mule & Moscow Mule) based respectively on Rum, Bourbon whiskey and Vodka

(11) As mule-deer, a species native to the western United States and so-named because of its large ears.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English mule, from the Anglo-Norman mule and the Old English mūl, both from the Latin mūlus, from the primitive Indo-European mukslós.   Related were the Middle Dutch mūle, the Old French mul (mule, hinny), the Late Latin muscellus (young he-mule), the Old East Slavic мъшкъ (mŭškŭ) (mule), the Phocian Ancient Greek  μυχλός (mukhlós) (he-ass) and the German Maul, Maultier & Maulesel, again derived from Latin.  It’s thought the Latin word was influenced by the Proto-Italic musklo- which is probably (along with the Ancient Greek myklos (pack-mule) and the Albanian mushk (mule)) a loan-word from one of the languages of Asia Minor.  The noun muleteer (mule driver) dates from the 1530s and was from the French muletier, from mulet (mule), a diminutive formation which in French displaced the Old French mul as the word for "mule".  The adjective mulish (possessing the characteristics imputed to the mule) is used of people thought obstinate rather than hard working; the word was in use by 1751 and the  alternative is mulelike (or mule-like), mulesque apparently either never created or not catching on. Mule is a noun & verb, mulishness & muleteer are nouns, mulishly is an adverb and mulish & mulelike are adjectives; the noun plural is mules. 

A mule of the Cyprus Regiment being loaded onto a transport ship, 1940.

As beasts of burden, mules widely were used by all military forces in Greece and the Middle East during World War II (1939-1945).  The Cyprus Regiment (1940-1950) was a unit of the British Army, formed from volunteers who were mostly Greek or Turkish Cypriots but the army's records list also members who were Armenian, Maronite or Latin inhabitants of Cyprus.  In the way such units tended during the conflict to be augmented by elements from other formations, soldiers from a number of Commonwealth nations were also from time to time attached to the establishment.

The mule became a popular pack animal because it was aid to "combine the strength of the horse with the endurance and surefootedness of the ass" and for centuries mules extensively have been bred to select for one characteristic or the other, those working mountainous trails a different beast from those on the plains.  To be zoologically correct, a mule is properly the offspring of a he-ass and a mare; that of a she-ass and a stallion is technically a hinny while a mule born of a horse and a she-ass is a burdon, a late fourteenth century creation from the Latin burdonem.  Ordinarily, male mules are incapable of procreation and commonly the word is applied allusively of hybrids and things of mixed nature.  The phrase "test mule" entered engineering (and later product development generally) in the 1920s to describe devices built for purposes of evaluation and thus expendable, a fate suffered no doubt by many an unfortunate beast. 

The mule's well-deserved reputation as a stellar beast of burden appears in the odd idiomatic form but it's the other traits which accounts for most popular use and perhaps surprisingly, given "stubborn as a mule" now appears in much greater frequency than "dumb as a mule" .  The meaning “stupid person” was noted by the 1470s, that of someone "obstinate or stubborn” not emerging until the eighteenth century although the latter use has endured and "working like a mule" proved an acceptable replacement when "working like an N-word" became proscribed.  There must have been some grounds for the beast picking up its reputation for obstinacy but there seems no evidence of the origin of that but it must sufficiently have been recognized to gain currency and become a proverbial descriptor of stubbornness.  A soul with such a tendency said to be "mulish"; within the family, Winston Churchill's (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) daughter Sarah (1914-1982) was nicknamed “the mule” (the English upper classes do like nick-names).  It seems likely the phrase "kick like a mule" was born of bitter experience although modern use is almost exclusively figurative, stronger forms of alcoholic drink commonly attracting the label.  It was formalized as the "Moscow Mule" (a cocktail made with vodka, ginger beer, and lime juice) although in the Western intelligence community that term was used also of traitors in the pay of the Soviet Union.  That use was probably modelled on "drug mule", underworld slang for "a smuggler of narcotics" which was noted as early as 1935 and came into general use in the post-war years.  The mule-deer of the western United States picked up the name because of its strikingly large ears.

Australian architect & multi-media installation Bianca Censori (b 1995), Instagram post, May 2025.

Ms Censori is one of the industry's leading practitioners of minimalist fashion and on this occasion paired a fishnet top with sheer tights, sunglasses the only visible accessory.  Wearing unobtrusive mules rather than the fishnet’s clichéd stilettos was a nice juxtaposition and the background was well-chosen, proving the value of a trained architect's eye.  

The so-named spinning machine dates from 1793 (first known as the "mule jenny" in 1788), the name derived from it being a "hybrid" of Richard Arkwright's (1732–1792) drawing-rollers and the spinning jenny invented by the English carpenter James Hargreaves (circa 1720–1778).  In what seems to have been an imaginative flight of etymological fancy, it was in the eighteenth century suggested the name "mule" was applied because the thing without complaint did so much of the labor which would otherwise have to be undertaken by human hand but there seems no doubt the inspiration was the machine's hybrid origin.  The use to describe the loose slipper worn as footwear was drawn into English in the 1560s from the Old French mule (slipper) from the Latin mulleus calceus (literally “red high-soled shoe”), a shoe worn by Roman patricians and associated with magistrates.  This footwear is unrelated to the long tradition of the Roman Catholic Pope wearing red shoes, the association tracing back to the notion of the blood of Christ falling on his feet as he carried on his back the cross on which he was crucified on Golgotha.  They were made again famous by fashion icon Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) although his successor, Francis (b 1936-2025; pope 2013-2025), favored plain black.

The mule the clog and the slide

Lindsay Lohan in Alexander Wang (b 1983) Amelia mules, Mykonos, Greece, June 2019.  Note the low heel, an example of how the term “mule" is used now by manufacturers to describe just about anything with some degree of openness in the heel.

Mules, by definition are backless but may be sling-backs and can have open or closed toes.  There are many who would classify these as sandals and some manufacturers agree.  In this context "mule" was from the Ancient Roman mulleus calceus a red (or reddish-purple) shoe popular with upper-class Romans and worn as a symbol of office by the three highest magistrates although the scant historical evidence does suggest the Roman footwear looked more like modern clogs than mules and logically, one would expect footwear with thicker, tougher soles would at the time have been preferred for use outdoors.  High-heeled mules became a popular indoor style during the 1700s, influenced by the pattern, a backless overshoe of the sixteenth century, although, by early in the twentieth, mules were often derided as the "dress-wear" of the "better class of prostitutes" and it wasn’t until Marilyn Monroe (1926–1962) adopted the mule in the 1950s they again assumed some respectability.  By the 1990s, mules were among the most popular of shoes, their combination of stylishness, comfort and practicality making them a wardrobe essential.

Chanel Mesh & Grosgrain Mule in black with 3.3 inch (85mm) heel @ US$800, Chanel part-number: G37505 Y55290 94305.

The descriptors mules, clogs and slides are sometimes used interchangeably.  The typical clog is a closed-toed wooden (or other) soled shoe with a heel no more than a couple of inches high.  Clogs are backless (although there are clog boots).  Mules, by comparison, traditionally had a higher heel although the strictness applied to that definition has weakened the emphasis seemingly now on the backlessness although there standards too are loose, slingback mules common.  The term slide derives from being applied to designs permitting the foot to slide in and may thus apply to both mules and clogs rather than being a distinct style.

Sunday, April 20, 2025

Croissant

Croissant (pronounced krwah-sahn (French), kruh-sahnt (barbarians) or cross-ant (savages)

A rich, buttery, often crescent-shaped, roll of leavened dough or puff paste.

1899:  From the French croissant (crescent), present participle of the verb croître (to increase, to grow), from the Middle French croistre, from the Old French creistre derived from the Classical Latin crēscēns & crēscentem, present active infinitive of crēscō (I augment), drawn from the Proto-Italic krēskō. The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European reh (to grow, become bigger).  Correct pronunciation here.  Chefs & bakers have found the word adaptable when inventing pasteries, coining croffle (croissant-waffle hybrid), cronut (a croissant-doughnut hybrid), cruffin (a croissant-muffin hybrid) and doissant (an alternative name for a cronut).  Croissant is a noun and croissantlike is an adjective; the noun plural is croissants.  

The Austrian Pastry

Like some other cultural artefacts thought quintessentially French (French fries invented in Belgium; Nicolas Sarkozy (b 1955; French president 2007-2012) from here and there; the Citroën DS (1955-1975) styled by an Italian) the croissant came from elsewhere, its origins Austrian, the Viennese kipferl a crescent-shaped sweet made plain, with nuts or other fillings.  It varies from the French classic in being denser and less flaky, made with softer dough.  First noted in the thirteenth century at which time, it was thought a “sweet” it was another three-hundred years before it came to be regarded as a morning pastry.  Tastes changed as new techniques of baking evolved and around the turn of the seventeenth century, recipes began to appear in Le Pâtissier François using Pâte feuilletée (puff pastry), these being the first recognisably modern croissants.

A classic butter croissant with a long black coffee (Caffè Americano).

Culinary histories include a number of (likely apocryphal) tales of why the croissant adopted a crescent shape.  One suggests it was baked first in Buda to celebrate the defeat of the Ummayyad (the Umayyad Caliphate (661–750) was the second of the four major caliphates created after the death of the prophet Muhammad (circa 570-632)) forces by the Franks in the Battle of Tours (732), the shape representing the Islamic crescent moon although more famous is the notion it was designed after the battle of 1683 when the Ottomans were turned back from the gates of Vienna.  A baker, said to have heard the Turks tunneling under the walls of the city as he lit his ovens to bake the morning bread, sounded an alarm, and the defending forces collapsed the tunnel, saving the city.   To celebrate, bread was baked in the shape of the crescent moon of the Turkish flag.

Portrait of Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen of France 1774-1792) (1769), oil on canvas by Joseph Ducreux (1735-1802).

The official title of the portrait was Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria and it was created as the era’s equivalent of a Tinder profile picture, the artist summoned in 1769 to Vienna to paint a pleasing rendering of the young lady the Hapsburg royal court planned to marry off to Louis, Dauphin of France (1754-1973) who would reign as Louis XVI (King of France 1774-1792)).  Tinder profile pictures can be misleading (some pounds and even more years sometimes vanishing) so the work must be considered in that context although she was barely fourteen when she sat so it may be true to the subject.  Ducreux’s portrait was the first glimpse the prince had of his intended bride and it must have been pleasing enough for him metaphorically to "swipe right" and the marriage lasted until the pair were executed with the blade of the guillotine.  As a reward, Ducreux was raised to the nobility as a seigneur de la baronnie (lord of the barony, the grade of of baron granted to roturiers (commoners)) and appointed premier peintre de la reine (First Painter to the Queen), outliving the royal couple.

Rendered by Vovsoft as cartoon character: a brunette Lindsay Lohan in croissant T-shirt.

A more romantic tale attributes the pastry to Marie Antoinette, who, as an Austrian, preferred the food of her homeland to that of the French court and, at state dinners, would sneak off to enjoy pastries and coffee.  There is no documentary evidence for her having re-christened the kipferl as the croissant but the story is she so missed what she knew as kipfel (German for crescent) that she commanded the royal baker to clone the treat.  More prosaic, but actually verified by historical evidence, is that August Zang (1807-1888), a retired Austrian artillery officer founded a Viennese Bakery in Paris in 1839 and most food historians agree he is the one most likely to have introduced the kipfel to France, a pastry that later inspired French bakers to create crescents of their own.  The first mention of the croissant in French is in French chemist Anselme Payen’s (1795-1871) Des Substances alimentaires (1853), published long after Marie-Antoinette’s time in court, the first known printed recipe, using the name, appearing in Swiss chef Joseph Favre’s (1849-1903) Dictionnaire universel de cuisine (1905) although even that was a more dense creation than the puffy thing known today.

Once were croissants: 1967 Mercedes-Benz 600 (with Biskuitrolles (jam rolls) or Nackenrolles (neck rolls), left), 1969 Mercedes-Benz 600 (with “croissants” or “rabbits ears”, centre) and 1990 Mercedes-Benz 560 SEL (with boring “headrests”, right).

Mercedes-Benz introduced their Kopfstütze (literally “head support” although in the factory’s technical documents the design project was the Kopfstützensystem (head restraint system)) when the 600 (W100, 1963-1981) was displayed at the 1963 Frankfurt Motor Show, the early cars having only a rear-pair as standard equipment (there was an expectation many 600s would be chauffeur-driven) with the front units optional but the hand-built 600 could be ordered with one, two, three or four Kopfstützen (or even none although no 600s seem to have been ordered so-configured).  In 1969 the design was updated and over three weeks the new type was phased in for the models then in production.  While a totally new design (one cognizant of the US safety regulations which had mandated them for the front seats of passenger vehicles) with a different internal structure and mounting assembly, the most distinctive aspect was the raised sides which some compared to the “pagoda” roof then in use on the W113 (230, 250 & 280 SL, 1963-1971) roadster but this was coincidental.  In the early press reports the shapes were described with culinary references, the previous versions said to resemble a Biskuitrolle mit Marmelade (jam filled sponge roll) while the new generation was more like a croissant.  In the English-speaking world, neither term caught on, the older style was called something like “older style” while the new came to be known as “rabbits ears” which was much more charming.  Uncharmed, the humorless types at the factory continued to call them teilt (split) or offener Rahmen (open-frame).  The “rabbits ears” were phased out in 1979 although the low volume 600 retained them (along with the archaic rear swing-axles!) until the last was built in 1981.  The design introduced in 1979 seems never to have been compared to any kind of food and it reverted to lateral symmetry although the structure was noticeably more vertiginous.

The factory may have described them as Kopfstützensystem (head restraint system, a pair in red leather to the left) but as well as the jam roll allusion, people also called them Nackenrolles (literally “neck roll”, centre) which were cylindrical pillows designed to support the head and neck when the user was seated.  Long a fixture in the catalogues of interior decorators, they gained a new popularity when televisions became a standard feature in houses and remain available although much modern furniture is now designed with head-support “built-in”.  Modern commerce adopted the term Nackenrolle (often without the initial capital when advertised in English-speaking markets) to cater to one growth market of the late twentieth century: frequent flyers and those on long haul flights.  These included shapes ranging from a simple horseshoe to “wrap-around” items (right) and some which enveloped almost the entire head in a supportive padded surround, an aperture to allow breathing through the nose and mouth the only gap (resembling the once perpetually doomed Kenny McCormick in the animated TV series South Park on Paramount's Comedy Central cable channel).

Depending on this & that, it's a jam roll, Swiss jam roll, jelly roll or Biskuitrolle.

Quick & simple to make and adaptable to a range of variants, the jam roll is a classic European sweet treat; usually it’s served sliced.  In some English-speaking markets, commonly they’re sold as a “Swiss Jam Roll”, thus the not unreasonable assumption it was bakers in Switzerland who invented the things but although the documentary evidence is sketchy, it’s clear from surviving cookbooks they were a common creation, rolled sponge cakes appearing across Central and Western Europe by at least the early eighteenth century.  However, the first known instance of the term “Swiss Jam Roll” in print was in England in the 1850s and that was as a marketing ploy; “Viennese”, “Danish”, or “French” often used as “prestige adjectives” because of the deservedly high reputation of the cakes and pastries served in Parisian & Viennese cafés, English cuisine not enjoying such high repute.  The term “Swiss Jam Roll” certainly caught on although the roll (or roulade) is very much a generic rolled sponge cake and between European cities there would have been little local variation.  In the US, they came to be known as “jelly rolls” because there what the English called “jam” was dubbed jelly and the Germans called them Biskuitrolles.  That makes curious the US use of “biscuit” to mean a kind of soft, semi-sweet or savory bread (something like an English scone) whereas what the English call “biscuits”, the Americans call “cookies”.  That does hint what the German immigrants to North America used for their Biskuitrolles may have been less sweet than the classic sponge cake used in the modern versions.  As a footnote, in Noblesse Oblige: An Enquiry Into the Identifiable Characteristics of the English Aristocracy (1956), Nancy Mitford (1904–1973) listed “jam” as “non-U” (ie not the word used by the upper classes) while “preserves” (always in the plural) was the “U” form.  Despite that, in class-conscious England, there appears to be no record of “preserve rolls”. Swiss or otherwise so either it was classless food or the toffs just forgave the name and enjoyed the treat.

Petit-déjeuner à Paris: café; croissant; Gauloises.

In 2025, for some to enjoy the pleasure of a croissant at breakfast began to demand a little more planning after the French government banned the smoking of cigarettes in all outdoor areas where children can be present (US$130 on-the-spot fine).  Vaping was still allowed (!) so there was that and terrasses (the outdoor areas of coffee shops bars) were exempt.  While inhaling a known carcinogen is not good and should be discouraged, the odd concession such as allowing consenting adults together to enjoy a coffee and cigarette does seem a worthwhile tribute civilization can pay to the irrational.  It's good Jean-Paul Sartre (1905–1980) & Simone de Beauvoir (1908–1986) didn't live to see this day. 

Although the famous shape is much admired, for purists, the choice is always the un-curved croissant au beurre, (butter croissant), the more eye-catching crescents being usually the ordinaires, made with margarine.  The taste in the English-speaking world for things like ham-and-cheese croissants is regarded by the French as proof of Anglo-Saxon barbarism although they will tolerate a sparse drizzle of chocolate if it’s for children and food critics reluctantly concede the almond croissant (with a frangipane filling, topped with slivered almonds and a dusting of powdered sugar) is “enjoyed by younger women”.  Generally though, the French stick to the classics, eschewing even butter, a croissant being best enjoyed unadorned and taken with a strong black coffee and while some will insist this should be accompanied with a Gitanes, that is optional.

The cube croissant, an Instagram favorite.

Although much focused upon, the shape of a croissant of course becomes less relevant when eaten when the experience becomes one of taste and texture.  For that reason the pastry used has long attracted those chefs for whom food offers architectural possibilities and while for more than a century one-offs have been created for competition and special event, in recent years the phenomenon of social media has been a design stimulant, Instagram, TikTok etc fuelling a culinary arms race and patisseries have built (sometimes short-lived) product lines in response to viral videos.  Fillings have of course been a feature but it’s the shapes which have been most eye-catching (and by extension click-catching which is the point for the content providers). There have been “croissants” in the shape of spheres, discs, pyramids, spirals, wedges and cubes, the last among the more amusing with chefs referencing objects and concepts such as dice, cubist art and, of course, the Rubik’s Cube.  Many have been just a moment while some have for a while trended.

Dominique Ansel's Cronut, stacked and sliced.

Some have endured for longer such as the Cronut (the portmanteau’s construct being cro(issant) + (dough)nut) and so serious was New York based French pastry chef Dominique Ansel (b 1978) that in 2013 he trademarked his creation.  In the familiar shape of a doughnut, the composition was described as “a croissant-like pastry with a filling of flavored cream and fried in grapeseed oil.”  Interviewed by Murdoch tabloid the New York Post, the chef revealed it took “two months of R&D (research & development)” before the Cronut was perfected and the effort was clearly worthwhile because after being released in his eponymous bakery in Manhattan’s SoHo neighbourhood, the city’s food bloggers (a numerous and competitive population) responded and within days photographs circulated of dozens waiting for opening time, a reaction which prompted the application to the US Patent and Trademark Office.  In the way of such things, around the planet “clones”, “tributes”, “knock-offs”, “imitations”, “rip-offs” (the descriptions as varied as the slight changes in the recipes introduced presumably to fend off a C&D (cease and desist letter)) soon appeared.  Predictably, some were called “Doughssants” (the Germanic eszett a nice touch) although others were less derivative.

Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) New York Post, 16 August, 2022.

Monsieur Ansel in 2015 released Dominique Ansel: The Secret Recipes, a cookbook which included the Cronut recipe and the thing in its authentic form was clearly for the obsessives, the instructions noting making one or a batch was a three-day process.  In its review of the year, Time magazine nominated the Cronut as one of the “best inventions of 2013”, prompting one cultural commentator (another species which proliferates in New York City) to observe the decadence of the West had reached the point the breakdown of society was close.  There may have been something in the idea the new “Visigoths at the Gates of Rome” were actually pastry chefs because in the wake of the Cronut the city was soon flooded with all sorts of novel sugary treats, mostly elaborations of croissants, doughnuts and, it being NYC, bagels.  By 2022 the New York Post was prepared to proclaim: “Move over cronuts! NYC's hot new baked good is the Suprême”, the defenestrator from Noho’s Lafayette Grand Café and revealed to be a “unique circular croissant filled with pastry crème and topped with ganache and crushed up cookies.”  Again of the Instagram & TikTok age, queues were reported even though at a unit cost of US$8.50 it was two dollars more expensive than a Cronut, the price of which had increased fairly modestly since 2013 when it debuted at US$5.00.

All the recent variations on the croissant are built on the theme chefs have for centuries understood is the easy path to popularity: FSS; add fat, salt & sugar, the substances mankind has for millennia sought.  Once it took much effort (and often some risk) to find these things but now they’re conveniently packaged and widely available at prices which, although subject to political and economic forces, remain by historic standards very cheap.  Often, we don’t even need to seek out the packages because so much of the preparation and distribution of food has been outsourced to specialists, mostly industrial concerns but the artisans persist in niches.  That’s certainly true of the croissant, few making their own whether basic or embellished and one of the latest of the croissant crazes is FSS writ large: the crookie.

Miss Sina's crookie (without added topping or powered sugar).

A crookie is a croissant stuffed with chocolate chip cookie dough and its very existence will be thought particularly shameful by some Parisian purists because it was first sold in December 2023 by the Boulangerie Louvard, located on Rue de Châteaudun in Paris’s 9th arrondissement which, in an Instragram post announced the arrival: “Our pure butter croissant, awarded the seventh best croissant in the Île-de-France region in 2022, is made every morning with a 24-hour fermented milk sourdough and layered with Charente butter.  For our cookie dough, we use one of the best and purest chocolates in the world, from @xoco.gourmet.”  Offered originally in a test batch to test the market, the boulangerie soon announced “The concept was well received, so we're keeping it.  Available every day in-store!

Unlike a Cronut which (at least in its pure form) demands three days to make, the charm of the crookie is its elegant simplicity and Instagrammers quickly deconstructed and posted the instructions:

(1) With a serrated knife, cut open a croissant lengthwise, leaving a “hinge” at the back.

(2) Add 2-3 tablespoons of your chocolate chip cookie dough (from a packet or home-made).

(3) Close the two sections of croissant wholly encasing the dough.

(4) When the dough is almost cooked (time will vary according to oven and the volume of dough but it takes only a few minutes), remove from oven.

(5) Add more cookie dough to the top of croissant and return to the oven for final bake.

(6) When the outside is crispy and the centre gooey, remove from oven and top with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Some crookie critics don't recommend either adding the second lashing of dough or the powered sugar because they tend to "overwhelm" the croissant and limit the surface area, thereby denying the dish some of the essential crispiness.  

The croissant in fashion

Louis Vuitton Croissant (2001) and Loop (2021).

While a handbag lends itself well to the shape of a crescent, it does inherently limit the efficiency of space utilization but this aspect is often not a primary goal in the upper reaches of the market.  With garments however, although actually a common component because the shape makes all sorts of engineering possible such as the underwire of the bra or other constructions where any sort of cantilever effect is demanded, it’s usually just an element rather than a design motif.  As a playful touch, a distinctive crescent moon or croissant might appear on a T-shirt or scarf but it’s rare to see a whole garment pursue the theme although they have appeared on the catwalks where they attract the usual mix of admiration and derision.  The original Louis Vuitton Croissant was introduced early in the twenty-first century and although modest compared with some of the company's designs, it proved to be one of the "goldilocks" bags in that it was for many just the right size and shape; now discontinued, it's still in demand through the vibrant after-market channels, fine examples selling for well-above their original list price.  Louis Vuitton must have noted the appeal because in 2021 the Loop was released, designed by Nicolas Ghesquière (b 1971) for the Cruise 2022 Collection.  The Loop was described as a "half-moon baguette" and and is closer to a crescent than the earlier bag which was in the shape of a classic butter croissant.  Some might find the fussiness in the Loop over-detailed but markets east of Suez are now important and the added bling in the detailing reflects modern consumer preferences.

SJP (Sarah Jessica Parker; b 1965) in "croissant dress" (left) and a HD (heavy duty) PVC (polyvinyl chloride) dishwashing glove in action (right).

Occasionally, catwalk creations escape and are seen in the wild.  In 2022, the actor Sarah Jessica Parker appeared in HBO's (Home Box Office) And Just Like That (2021-2022; a revival of the Sex and the City TV series (1998-2004)), wearing an orange Valentino Haute Couture gown from the house’s spring/summer 2019 collection.  It recalled a large croissant, the piece chosen presumably because the scene was set in Paris although it must have been thought viewers needed the verisimilitude laid on with a trowel because also prominent was a handbag in the shape of the Eifel Tower.  A gift to the meme-makers, while comments were numerous, admiration for the dress seemed restrained although many were taken by what at first glance appeared to be a pair of PVC (also available in latex) dishwashing gloves in a fetching pink (closer to hot pink than fashion fuchsia); few critics doubted they really were opera gloves from Valentino Haute Couture.

Thursday, November 20, 2025

Ultracrepidarian

Ultracrepidarian (pronounced uhl-truh-krep-i-dair-ee-uhn)

Of or pertaining to a person who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside their area of expertise

1819: An English adaptation of the historic words sūtor, ne ultra crepidam, uttered by the Greek artist Apelles and reported by the Pliny the Elder.  Translating literally as “let the shoemaker venture no further” and sometimes cited as ne supra crepidam sūtor judicare, the translation something like “a cobbler should stick to shoes”.  From the Latin, ultra is beyond, sūtor is cobbler and crepidam is accusative singular of crepida (from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís)) and means sandal or sole of a shoe.  Ultracrepidarian is a noun & verb and ultracrepidarianism is a noun; the noun plural is ultracrepidarians.  For humorous purposes, forms such as ultracrepidarist, ultracrepidarianish, ultracrepidarianize & ultracrepidarianesque have been coined; all are non-standard.

Ultracrepidarianism describes the tendency among some to offer opinions and advice on matters beyond their competence.  The word entered English in 1819 when used by English literary critic and self-described “good hater”, William Hazlitt (1778–1830), in an open letter to William Gifford (1756–1826), editor of the Quarterly Review, a letter described by one critic as “one of the finest works of invective in the language” although another suggested it was "one of his more moderate castigations" a hint that though now neglected, for students of especially waspish invective, he can be entertaining; the odd quote from him would certainly lend a varnish of erudition to trolling.  Ultracrepidarian comes from a classical allusion, Pliny the Elder (circa 24-79) recording the habit of the famous Greek painter Apelles (a fourth century BC contemporary of Alexander the Great (Alexander III of Macedon, 356-323 BC)), to display his work in public view, then conceal himself close by to listen to the comments of those passing.  One day, a cobbler paused and picked fault with Apelles’ rendering of sandals and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the errant straps.  Encouraged, the amateur critic then let his eye wander above the ankle and suggested how the leg might be improved but this Apelles rejected, telling him to speak only of shoes and otherwise maintain a deferential silence.  Pliny hinted the artist's words of dismissal may not have been polite.

So critics should comment only on that about which they know.  The phrase in English is usually “cobbler, stick to your last” (a last a shoemaker’s pattern, ultimately from a Germanic root meaning “to follow a track'' hence footstep) and exists in many European languages: zapatero a tus zapatos is the Spanish, schoenmaker, blijf bij je leest the Dutch, skomager, bliv ved din læst the Danish and schuster, bleib bei deinen leisten, the German.  Pliny’s actual words were ne supra crepidam judicaret, (crepidam a sandal or the sole of a shoe), but the idea is conveyed is in several ways in Latin tags, such as Ne sutor ultra crepidam (sutor means “cobbler”, a word which survives in Scotland in the spelling souter).  The best-known version is the abbreviated tag ultra crepidam (beyond the sole), and it’s that which Hazlitt used to construct ultracrepidarian.  Crepidam is from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpísand has no link with words like decrepit or crepitation (which are from the Classical Latin crepare (to creak, rattle, or make a noise)) or crepuscular (from the Latin word for twilight); crepidarian is an adjective rare perhaps to the point of extinction meaning “pertaining to a shoemaker”.

The related terms are "Nobel disease" & "Nobel syndrome" which are used to describe some of the opinions offered by Nobel laureates on subjects beyond their specialization.  In some cases this is "demand" rather than "supply" driven because, once a prize winner is added to a media outlet's "list of those who comment on X", if they turn out to give answers which generate audience numbers, controversy or clicks, they become "talent" and may be asked questions about matters of which they know little.  This happens because some laureates in the three "hard" prizes (physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine) operate in esoteric corners of their discipline; asking a particle physicist something about plasma physics on the basis of their having won the physics prize may not elicit useful information.  Of course those who have won the economics gong or one of what are now the DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) prizes (peace & literature) may be assumed to have helpful opinions on everything.

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

Number 11 (Blue poles, 1952), oil, enamel and aluminum paint with glass on canvas.

In 1973, when a million dollars was a still lot of money, the NGA (National Gallery of Australia), a little controversially, paid Aus$1.3 million for Jackson Pollock’s (1912-1956) Number 11, 1952, popularly known as Blue Poles since it was first exhibited in 1954, the new name reputedly chosen by the artist.  It was some years ago said to be valued at up to US$100 million but, given the increase in the money supply (among the rich who trade this stuff) over the last two decades odd, that estimate may now be conservative although the suggestion in 2016 the value may have inflated to as much as US$350 million was though to be "on the high side".  Blue Poles emerged during Pollock’s "drip period" (1947-1950), a method which involved techniques such throwing paint at a canvas spread across the floor.  The art industry liked these (often preferring the more evocative term "action painting") and they remain his most popular works, although at this point, he abandoned the dripping and moved to his “black porings phase” a darker, simpler style which didn’t attract the same commercial interest.  He later returned to more colorful ways but his madness and alcoholism worsened; he died in a drink-driving accident.

Alchemy (1947), oil, aluminum, alkyd enamel paint with sand, pebbles, fibres, and broken wooden sticks on canvas.

Although the general public remained uninterested (except in the price tags) or sceptical, there were critics, always drawn to a “troubled genius”, who praised Pollock’s work and the industry approves of any artist who (1) had the decency to die young and (2) produced lots of stuff which can sell for millions.  US historian of art, curator & author Helen A Harrison (b 1943; director (1990-2024) of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, the former home and studio of the Abstract Expressionist artists Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in East Hampton, New York) is an admirer, noting the “pioneering drip technique…” which “…introduced the notion of action painting", where the canvas became the space with which the artist actively would engage”.  As a thumbnail sketch she offered:

Number 14: Gray (1948), enamel over gesso on paper.

Reminiscent of the Surrealist notions of the subconscious and automatic painting, Pollock's abstract works cemented his reputation as the most critically championed proponent of Abstract Expressionism. His visceral engagement with emotions, thoughts and other intangibles gives his abstract imagery extraordinary immediacy, while his skillful use of fluid pigment, applied with dance-like movements and sweeping gestures that seldom actually touched the surface, broke decisively with tradition. At first sight, Pollock's vigorous method appears to create chaotic labyrinths, but upon close inspection his strong rhythmic structures become evident, revealing a fascinating complexity and deeper significance.  Far from being calculated to shock, Pollock's liquid medium was crucial to his pictorial aims.  It proved the ideal vehicle for the mercurial content that he sought to communicate 'energy and motion made visible - memories arrested in space'.”

Number 13A: Arabesque (1948), oil and enamel on canvas.

Critics either less visionary or more fastidious seemed often as appalled by Pollock’s violence of technique as they were by the finished work (or “products” as some labelled the drip paintings), questioning whether any artistic skill or vision even existed, one finding them “…mere unorganized explosions of random energy, and therefore meaningless.”  The detractors used the language of academic criticism but meant the same thing as the frequent phrase of an unimpressed public: “That’s not art, anyone could do that.”

Number 1, 1949 (1949), enamel and metallic paint on canvas. 

There have been famous responses to  “That’s not art, anyone could do that” but Ms Harrison's was practical, offering people the opportunity to try.  To the view that “…people thought it was arbitrary, that anyone can fling paint around”, Ms Harrison conceded it was true anybody could “fling paint around” but that was her point, anybody could, but having flung, they wouldn’t “…necessarily come up with anything” by which she meant the wouldn't necessarily come up with anything of which the critical establishment (a kind of freemasonry of the art business) would approve (ie could put a price tag on).

Helen A Harrison, The Jackson Pollock Box (Cider Mill Press, 96pp, ISBN-10:1604331860, ISBN-13:978-1604331868).

In 2010, Ms Harrison released The Jackson Pollock Box, a kit which, in addition to an introductory text, included paint brushes, drip bottles and canvases so people could do their own flinging and compare the result against a Pollock.  After that, they may agree with collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) that Pollock was “...the greatest painter since Picasso” or remain unrepentant ultracrepidarians.  Of course, many who thought their own eye for art quite well-trained didn't agree with Ms Guggenheim.  In 1945, just after the war, Duff Cooper (1890–1954), then serving as Britain's ambassador to France, came across Pablo Picasso (1881–1973) leaving an exhibition of paintings by English children aged 5-10 and in his diary noted the great cubist saying he "had been much impressed".  "No wonder" added the ambassador, "the pictures are just as good as his".

Dresses & drips: Three photographs by Cecil Beaton (1904-1980), shot for a three-page feature in Vogue (March 1951) titled American Fashion: The New Soft Look which juxtaposed Pollock’s paintings hung in New York’s Betty Parsons Gallery with the season’s haute couture by Irene (1872-1951) & Henri Bendel (1868-1936).

Beaton choose the combinations of fashion and painting; pairing Lavender Mist (1950, left) with a short black ball gown of silk paper taffeta with large pink bow at one shoulder and an asymmetrical hooped skirt best illustrates the value of his trained eye.  Critics and social commentators have always liked these three pages, relishing the opportunity to comment on the interplay of so many of the clashing forces of modernity: the avant-garde and fashion, production and consumption, abstraction and representation, painting and photography, autonomy and decoration, masculinity and femininity, art and commerce.  Historians of art note it too because it was the abstract expressionism of the 1940s which was both uniquely an American movement and the one which in the post-war years saw the New York supplant Paris as the centre of Western art.  There have been interesting discussions about when last it could be said Western art had a "centre".

Blue Poles, upside down.

Although the suggestion might offend the trained and discerning eyes of art critics, it’s doubtful that for ultracrepidarians the experience of viewing Blue Poles would much be different were it to be hung upside down.  Fortunately, the world does have a goodly stock of art critics who can explain that while Pollock did more than once say his works should be interpreted “subjectively”, their intended orientation is a part of the whole and an inversion would change the visual dynamics and gravitational illusions upon which the abstraction effects depend would be changed.  It would still be a painting but, in a sense, not the one the artist painted.  Because the drip technique involved “flinging and poring paint” onto a canvas spread across a studio’s floor, there was not exactly a randomness in where the paint landed but physics did mean gravity exerted some pull (in flight and on the ground), lending layers and rivulets what must be a specific downward orientation.  Thus, were the work to be hung inverted, what was in the creative process a downward flow would be seen as “flowing uphill” as it were.  The compositional elements which lent the work its name were course the quasi-vertical “poles” placed at slight angles and its these which are the superstructure which “anchor” the rest of the drips and, being intrinsically “directional”, they too have a “right way up”.  There is in the assessment of art the “eye of the beholder” but although it may be something they leave unstated, most critics will be of the “some eyes are more equal than others” school.

Mondrian’s 1941 New York City 1 as it (presumably correctly) sat in the artist's studio in 1944 (left) and as it was since 1945 exhibited (upside-down) in New York and Düsseldorf (right).  Spot the difference.

So although ultracrepidarians may not “get it” (even after digesting the critics’ explanations) and wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not it was hung correctly, that’s because they’re philistines.  In the world of abstract art however, even the critics can be fooled: in 2022, it was revealed a work in Piet Mondrian’s (1872-1944) 1941 New York City 1 series had for 77 years been hanging upside down.  First in exhibited in 1945 in New York’s MOMA (Museum of Modern Art), the piece was created with multi-colored adhesive paper tape and, in an incorrect orientation, it has since 1980 hung in the Düsseldorf Museum as part of the Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen’s collection.  The decades-long, trans-Atlantic mistake came to light during a press conference held to announce the Kunstsammlung’s new Mondrian exhibition and the conclusion was the error may have been caused by something as simple as the packing-crate being overturned or misleading instructions being given to the staff.  1941 New York City 1 will remain upside because of the condition of the adhesive strips.  The adhesive tapes are already extremely loose and hanging by a thread” a curator was quoted as saying, adding that if it were now to be turned-over, “…gravity would pull it into another direction.  And it’s now part of the work’s story.  Mondrian was one of the more significant theorists of abstract art and its withdrawal from nature and natural subjects.  Denaturalization” he proclaimed to be a milestone in human progress, adding: “The power of neo-plastic painting lies in having shown the necessity of this denaturalization in painterly terms... to denaturalize is to abstract... to abstract is to deepen.  Now even ultracrepidarians can understand.

Eye of the beholder: Portrait of Lindsay Lohan in the style of Claude Monet (1840–1926) at craiyon.com and available at US$26 on an organic cotton T-shirt made in a factory powered by renewable energy.

Whether the arguments about what deserves to be called “art” began among prehistoric “artists” and their critics in caves long ago isn’t known but it’s certainly a dispute with a long history.  In the sense it’s a subjective judgment the matter was doubtless often resolved by a potential buyer declining to purchase but during the twentieth century it became a contested topic and there were celebrated exhibits and squabbles which for decades played out before, in the post modern age, the final answer appeared to be something was art if variously (1) the creator said it was or (2) an art critic said it was or (3) it was in an art gallery or (4) the price tag was sufficiently impressive.

So what constitutes “art” is a construct of time, place & context which evolves, shaped by historical, cultural, social, economic, political & personal influences, factors which in recent years have had to be cognizant of the rise of cultural equivalency, the recognition that Western concepts such as the distinction between “high” (or “fine”) art and “folk” (or “popular”) art can’t be applied to work from other traditions where cultural objects are not classified by a graduated hierarchy.  In other words, everybody’s definition is equally valid.  That doesn’t mean there are no longer gatekeepers because the curators in institutions such as museums, galleries & academies all discriminate and thus play a significant role in deciding what gets exhibited, studied & promoted, even though few would now dare to suggest what is art and what is not: that would be cultural imperialism.

Eye of the prompt 1.0: An AI (artificial intelligence) generated portrait of Lindsay Lohan by ChatGPT imagined in "drip painting style", this one using an interpretation which overlaid "curated drips" over "flung paint".  This could be rendered using Ms Harrison's Jackson Pollock Box but would demand some talent.

In the twentieth century, it seemed to depend on artistic intent, something which transcended a traditional measure such as aesthetic value but as the graphic art in advertising and that with a political purpose such as agitprop became bigger, brighter and more intrusive, such forms also came to be regarded as art or at least worth of being studied or exhibited on the same basis, in the same spaces as oil on canvas portraits & landscapes.  Once though, an unfamiliar object in such places could shock as French painter & sculptor Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) managed in 1917 when he submitted a porcelain urinal as his piece for an exhibition in New York, his rationale being “…everyday objects raised to the dignity of a work of art by the artist's act of choice.”  Even then it wasn’t a wholly original approach but the art establishment has never quite recovered and from that urinal to Dadaism, to soup cans to unmade beds, it became accepted that “anything goes” and people should be left to make of it what they will.  Probably the last remaining reliable guide to what really is "art" remains the price tag.

Eye of the prompt 1.1: An AI (artificial intelligence) generated portrait of Lindsay Lohan by ChatGPT imagined in "drip painting style", this one closer to Pollock’s “action painting” technique.

His drip period wholly non-representational, Pollock didn’t produce recognizable portraiture so applying the technique for this purpose demands guesswork.  As AI illustrates, it can be done but, in blending two incompatible modes, whether it looks much like what Pollock would have produced had he accepted a “paint Lindsay Lohan” commission, is wholly speculative.  What is more likely is that even if some sort of hybrid, a portrait by Pollock would have been an abstraction altogether more chaotic and owing little to the structure on which such works usually depend in that there probably would have been no central focal point, fewer hints of symmetry and a use of shading producing a face not lineal in its composition.  That’s what his sense of “continuous motion” dictated: no single form becoming privileged over the rest.  So, this too is not for the literalists schooled in the tradition of photo-realism but as a work it’s also an example of how most armed with Ms Harrison's Jackson Pollock Box could with "drip & fling" produce this but not necessarily would produce this, chaos on canvas needing talent too.

1948 Cisitalia 202 GT (left; 1947-1952) and 1962 Jaguar E-Type (1961-1974; right), Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York City.

Urinals tend not to be admired for their aesthetic qualities but there are those who find beauty in stuff as diverse as math equations and battleships.  Certain cars have long been objects which can exert an emotional pull on those with a feeling for such things and if the lines are sufficiently pleasing, many flaws in execution or engineering can be forgiven, sometimes to the point they become part of the charm.  New York’s MoMA in 1972 acknowledged such creations can be treated as works of art when they added a 1948 Cisitalia 202 GT finished in “Cisitalia Red” (MoMA object number 409.1972) to their collection, the press release noting it was “…the first time that an art museum in the U.S. put a car into its collection.”  Others appeared from time-to-time and while the 1953 Willys-Overland Jeep M-38A1 Utility Truck (MoMA object number 261.2002) perhaps is not conventionally beautiful, its brutish functionalism has a certain simplicity of form and in the exhibition notes MoMA clarified somewhat by describing it as a “rolling sculpture”, presumably in the spirit of a urinal being a “static sculpture”, both to be admired as pieces of design perfectly suited to their intended purpose, something of an art in itself.  Of the 1962 Jaguar E-Type (informally sometimes as XKE or XK-E in the US) open two seater (OTS, better known as a roadster and acquired as MoMA object number 113.996), there was no need to explain because it’s one of the most seductive shapes ever rendered in metal.  Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) attended the 1961 Geneva International Motor Show (now defunct but, on much the same basis as manufacturers east of Suez buying brand-names such as MG, Jaguar and such, the name has been purchased for use by an event in staged in Qatar) when the E-Type made its stunning debut and part of folklore is he called it “the most beautiful car in the world”.  Whether those words ever passed his lips isn’t certain because the sources vary slightly in detail and il Commendatore apparently never confirmed or denied the sentiment but it’s easy to believe and to this day many agree just looking at the thing can be a visceral experience.  The MoMA car is finished in "Opalescent Dark Blue" with a grey interior and blue soft-top (there are those who would prefer it in BRG (British Racing Green) over tan leather) and although as a piece of design it's not flawless, anyone who can't see the beauty in a Series 1 E-Type OTS truly is an ultracrepidarian.