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 shoes and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the sandal’s 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 (krēpís) and 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", they are sometimes 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 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

In 1973, when a million dollars was a still lot of money, the 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 and some have suggested as much as US$400 million might be at least the ambit claim.

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

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, fibers, and broken wooden sticks on canvas.

Although the general public remained uninterested (except by 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 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 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.”  In 2010, she 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".   

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

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 and probably 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 by Bendel 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".

Eye of the beholder: Portrait of Lindsay Lohan in the style of Claude Monet 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.

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.

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 things as diverse as mathematical 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 engineering are often overlooked.  New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) acknowledged in 1972 that 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 (XKE) 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 Motor Show (now defunct) when the Jaguar staged its stunning debut and part of E-Type 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 many to this day 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 think the exhibit would be improved if it was in BRG (British Racing Green) over tan leather but anyone who finds a bad line on a Series 1 E-Type OTS is truly an ultracrepidarian.   

Frango

Frango (pronounced fran-goh)

(1) A young chicken (rare in English and in Portuguese, literally “chicken”).

(2) Various chicken dishes (an un-adapted borrowing from the Portuguese).

(3) In football (soccer) (1) a goal resulting from a goalkeeper’s error and (2) the unfortunate goalkeeper.

(4) The trade name of a chocolate truffle, now sold in Macy's department stores. 

In English, “frango” is most used in the Portuguese sense of “chicken” (variously “a young chicken”, “chicken meat”, “chicken disk” etc) and was from the earlier Portuguese frângão of unknown origin.  In colloquial figurative use, a frango can be “a young boy” and presumably that’s an allusion to the use referring to “a young chicken”.  In football (soccer), it’s used (sometimes trans-nationally) of a goal resulting from an especially egregious mistake by the goalkeeper (often described in English by the more generalized “howler”.  In Brazil, where football teams are quasi-religious institutions, such a frango (also as frangueiro) is personalized to describe the goalkeeper who made the error and on-field blunders are not without lethal consequence in South America, the Colombian centre-back Andrés Escobar (1967–1994) murdered in the days after the 1994 FIFA World Cup, an event reported as a retribution for him having scored the own goal which contributed to Colombia's elimination from the tournament. Frango is a noun; the noun plural is frangos.

The Classical Latin verb frangō (to break, to shatter) (present infinitive frangere, perfect active frēgī, supine frāctum) which may have been from the primitive Indo-European bhreg- (to break) by not all etymologists agree because descendants have never been detected in Celtic or Germanic forks, thus the possibility it might be an organic Latin creation.  The synonyms were īnfringō, irrumpō, rumpō & violō.  As well as memorable art, architecture and learning, Ancient Rome was a world also of violence and conflict and there was much breaking of stuff, the us the figurative use of various forms of frangō to convey the idea of (1) to break, shatter (a promise, a treaty, someone's ideas (dreams, projects), someone's spirit), (2) to break up into pieces (a war from too many battles, a nation) and (3) to reduce, weaken (one's desires, a nation).

A frangō in the sense of the Classical Latin: Lindsay Lohan with broken left wrist (fractured in two places in an unfortunate fall at Milk Studios during New York Fashion Week) and 355 ml (12 fluid oz) can of Rehab energy drink, Los Angeles, September 2006.  The car is a 2006 Mercedes-Benz SL 65 AMG (R230; 2004-2011) which would later feature in the tabloids after a low-speed crash.  The R230 range (2001-2011) was unusual because of the quirk of the SL 550 (2006-2011), a designation used exclusively in the North American market, the RoW (rest of the world) cars retaining the SL 500 badge even though both used the 5.5 litre (333 cubic inch) V8 (M273).

The descendents from the Classical Latin frangō (to break, to shatter) included the Aromanian frãngu (to break, to destroy; to defeat), the Asturian frañer (to break; to smash) & francer (to smash), the English fract (to break; to violate (long obsolete)) & fracture ((1) an instance of breaking, a place where something has broken. (2) in medicine a break in a bone or cartilage and (3) in geology a fault or crack in a rock), the Friulian franzi (to break), the German Fraktur ((1) in medicine, a break in a bone & (2) a typeface) & Fraktion (2) in politics, a faction, a parliamentary grouping, (3) in chemistry, a fraction (in the sense of a component of a mixture), (4) a fraction (part of a whole) and (5) in the German-speaking populations of Switzerland, South Tyrol & Liechtenstein, a hamlet (adapted from the Italian frazione)), the Italian: frangere (1) to break (into pieces), (2) to press or crush (olives), (3) in figurative use and as a literary device, to transgress (a commandment, a convention of behavior etc), (4) in figurative use to weaken (someone's resistance, etc.) and (5) to break (of the sea) (archaic)), the Ladin franjer (to break into pieces), the Old Franco provençal fraindre (to break; significantly to damage), the Old & Middle French fraindre (significantly to damage), the Portuguese franzir (to frown (to form wrinkles in forehead)), the Romanian frânge (1) to break, smash, fracture & (2) in figurative use, to defeat) and frângere (breaking), the Old Spanish to break), and the Spanish frangir (to split; to divide).

Portuguese lasanha de frango (chicken lasagna).

In Portuguese restaurants, often heard is the phrase de vaca ou de frango? (beef or chicken?) and that’s because so many dishes offer the choice, much the same as in most of the world (though obviously not India).  In fast-food outlets, the standard verbal shorthand for “fried chicken” is “FF” which turns out to be one of the world’s most common two letter abbreviations, the reason being one “F” representing of English’s most unadapted linguistic exports.  One mystery for foreigners sampling Portuguese cuisine is: Why is chicken “frango” but chicken soup is “sopa de galinha?”  That’s because frango is used to mean “a young male chicken” while a galinha is an adult female.  Because galinha meat doesn’t possess the same tender quality as that of a frango, (the females bred and retained mostly for egg production), slaughtered galinhas traditionally were minced or shredded and used for dishes such as soups, thus: sopa de galinha (also as canja de galinha or the clipped caldo and in modern use, although rare, sopa de frango is not unknown).  That has changed as modern techniques of industrial farming have resulted in a vastly expanded supply of frango meat so, by volume, most sopa de galinha is now made using frangos (the birds killed young, typically between 3-4 months).  Frangos have white, drier, softer meat while that of the galinha is darker, less tender and juicer and the difference does attract chefs in who do sometimes offer a true sopa de galinha as a kind of “authentic peasant cuisine”.

There are also pintos (pintinhos in the diminutive) which are chicks only a few days old but these are no longer a part of mainstream Portuguese cuisine although galetos (chicks killed between at 3-4 weeks) are something of a delicacy, usually roasted.  The reproductive males (cocks or roosters in English use) are galos.  There is no tradition, anywhere in Europe, of eating the boiled, late-developing fertilized eggs (ie a bird in the early stages of development), a popular dish in the Philippines and one which seems to attract virulent disapprobation from many which culturally is interesting because often, the same critics happily will consume both the eggs and the birds yet express revulsion at even the sight of the intermediate stage.  Such attitudes are cultural constructs and may be anthropomorphic because there’s some resemblance to a human foetus.

Lindsay Lohan at Macy's and Teen People's Freaky Friday Mother/Daughter Fashion Show, Macy's Herald Square, New York City, August 2003.  It's hoped she had time for a Frango.

 Now sold in Macy’s Frangos are a chocolate truffle created in 1918 for sale in Frederick & Nelson department stores.  Although originally infused with mint, many variations ensued and they became popular when made available in the Marshall Field department stores which in 1929 acquired Frederick & Nelson although it’s probably their distribution by Macy's which remains best known.  Marshall Field's marketing sense was sound and they turned the Frango into something of a cult, producing them in large melting pots on the 13th floor of the flagship Marshall Field's store on State Street until 1999 when production was out-sourced to a third party manufacturer in Pennsylvania.  In the way of modern corporate life, the Frango has had many owners, a few changes in production method and packaging and some appearances in court cases over rights to the thing but it remains a fixture on Macy’s price lists, the trouble history reflected in the “Pacific Northwest version” being sold in Macy's Northwest locations in Washington, Idaho, Montana and Oregon while the “Seattle version” is available in Macy's Northwest establishments.  There are differences between the two and each has its champions but doubtless there are those who relish both.

A patent application (with a supporting trademark document) for the Frango was filed in 1918, the name a re-purposing of a frozen dessert sold in the up-market tea-room at Frederick & Nelson's department store in Seattle, Washington.  The surviving records suggest the “Seattle Frangos” were flavoured not with mint but with maple and orange but what remains uncertain is the origin of the name.  One theory is the construct was Fr(ederick’s) + (t)ango which is romantic but there are also reports employees were told, if asked, to respond it was from Fr(ederick) –an(d) Nelson Co(mpany) with the “c” switched to a “g” because the word “Franco” had a long established meaning.  Franco was a word-forming element meaning “French” or “the Franks”, from the Medieval Latin combining form Franci (the Franks), thus, by extension, “the French”.  Since the early eighteenth century it had been used when forming English phrases & compound words including “Franco-Spanish border” (national boundary between France & Spain), Francophile (characterized by excessive fondness of France and all things French (and thus its antonym Francophobe)) and Francophone (French speaking).

Hitler and Franco, photographed at their day-long meeting at Hendaye, on the Franco-Spanish border, 23 October 1940.  Within half a decade, Hitler would kill himself; still ruling Spain, Franco died peacefully in his bed, 35 years later.

Remarkably, the Frango truffles have been a part of two political controversies.  The first was a bit of a conspiracy theory, claiming the sweet treats were originally called “Franco Mints”, the name changed only after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) in which the (notionally right-wing and ultimately victorious) Nationalist forces were led by Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) and the explanation was that Marshall Field wanted to avoid adverse publicity.  Some tellings of the tale claim the change was made only after the Generalissimo’s meeting with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) at Hendaye (on the Franco-Spanish border) on 23 October 1940.  Their discussions concerned Spain's participation in the War against the British but it proved most unsatisfactory for the Germans, the Führer declaring as he left that he'd rather have "three of four teeth pulled out" than have to again spend a day with the Caudillo.  Unlike Hitler, Franco was a professional soldier, thought war a hateful business best avoided and, more significantly, had a shrewd understanding of the military potential of the British Empire and the implications for the war of the wealth and industrial might of the United States.  The British were fortunate Franco took the view he did because had he agreed to afford the Wehrmacht (the German armed forces) the requested cooperation to enable them to seize control of Gibraltar, the Royal Navy might have lost control of the Mediterranean, endangering the vital supplies of oil from the Middle East, complicating passage to the Indian Ocean and beyond and transforming the strategic position in the whole hemisphere.  However, in the archives is the patent application form for “Frangos” dated 1 June 1918 and there has never been any evidence to support the notion “Franco” was ever used for the chocolate truffles.

Macy's Dark Mint Frangos.

The other political stoush (a late nineteenth century Antipodean slang meaning a "fight or small-scale brawl) came in 1999 when, after seventy years, production of Frangos was shifted from the famous melting pots on the thirteenth floor of Marshall Field's flagship State Street store to Gertrude Hawk Chocolates in Dunmore, Pennsylvania, the decision taken by the accountants at the Dayton-Hudson Corporation which had assumed control in 1990.  The rationale of this was logical, demand for Frangos having grown far beyond the capacity of the relatively small space in State Street to meet demand but it upset many locals, the populist response led Richard Daley (b 1942; mayor (Democratic Party) of Chicago Illinois 1989-2011), the son of his namesake father (1902–1976; mayor (Democratic Party) of Chicago, Illinois 1955-1976) who in 1968 simultaneously achieved national infamy and national celebrity (one’s politics dictating how one felt) in his handling of the police response to the violence which beset the 1968 Democratic National Convention held that year in the city.  The campaign to have the Frangos made instead by a Chicago-based chocolate house was briefly a thing but was ignored by Dayton-Hudson and predictably, whatever the lingering nostalgia for the melting pots, the pragmatic Mid-Westerners adjusted to the new reality and, with much the same enthusiasm, soon were buying the Pennsylvanian imports.

Macy's Frango Mint Trios.

Remarkably, there appears to be a “Frango spot market”.  Although the increasing capacity of AI (artificial intelligence) has improved the mechanics of “dynamic pricing” (responding in real-time to movements in demand), as long ago as the Christmas season in 2014, CBS News ran what they called the “Macy's State Street Store Frango Mint Price Tracker”, finding the truffle’s price was subject to fluctuations as varied over the holiday period as movements in the cost of gas (petrol).  On the evening of Thanksgiving, “early bird” shoppers could buy a 1 lb one-pound box of Frango mint “Meltaways” for US$11.99, the price jumping by the second week in December to US$14.99 although that still represented quite a nominal discount from the RRP (recommended retail price) of US$24.00.  Within days, the same box was again listed at US$11.99 and a survey of advertising from the previous season confirmed that in the weeks immediately after Christmas, the price had fallen to US$9.99.  It may be time for the Chicago Mercantile Exchange (CME) to open a market for Frango Futures (the latest “FF”!).

Signature

Signature (pronounced sig-nuh-cher or sig-nuh-choor)

(1) A person's name, or a mark representing it, as signed personally or by deputy, as in subscribing a letter or other document.

(2) The act of signing a document.

(3) In music, a sign or set of signs at the beginning of a staff to indicate the key or the time of a piece.

(4) In broadcasting, a song, musical arrangement, sound effect, etc., used as a theme identifying a program.

(5) Any unique, distinguishing aspect, feature, or mark.

(6) In computing, as digital signature, any one of a number of attempts to create a mechanism whereby a digital object can have the same unique identifying characteristic as a physical signature in ink; in cryptography, data attached to a message certifying the message originated from its claimed source; in email and some other variations of communication, test, images or other objects collectively appended usually at the end of a message, analogous with a traditional signature on a letter.

(7) In digital forensic analysis, as digital signature, a term used to refer to any collection of characteristics which can be used as an identifier of origin, intent etc;

(8) The part of a prescription for pharmaceuticals instructing the patient the frequency and quantity in which a drug should be administered (US only).

(9) As an adjective, something intended to be emblematic of an institution or individual (signature dish signature cocktail, signature scent etc).

(10) In printing, a sheet of paper printed with several pages that upon folding will become a section or sections of a book; such a sheet so folded.

(11) In mathematics, a tuple specifying the sign of coefficients in any diagonal form of a quadratic form.

(12) In medicine, a resemblance between the external character of a disease and those of some physical agent (obsolete).

1525-1535: From the Old & Middle French signature, from the Medieval Latin signātura, future active periphrastic of the verb signāre (to sign), the construct being signum (sign), + -tura, feminine of -turus, the future active periphrastic suffix.  The first use with a link to English appears to have been as a kind of document defined in Scottish law.  The Medieval Latin signatura, was, in Classical Latin a rescript (the matrix of a seal).  The meaning "one's own name written in one's own hand" is from 1570s, which replaced the early-fifteenth century “sign-manual” in this sense.  The use in musical notation in which composers used "signs placed it the beginning of a staff to indicate the key and rhythm" was noted first in 1806.  Signature began to be used in the generalized sense of "a distinguishing mark of any kind" as early as the 1620s.

Non est factum

Historically, in contract law a signature was binding on the party who signed and obliged the performance of the specific terms of the contract.  Even if someone could prove they signed because of their own misunderstandings or in an act of carelessness even to the point of gross negligence, courts would still usually enforce the contract but a notable exception was the doctrine of non est factum.  Translated literally from the Latin as "it is not my deed", it’s available as a defense where a person has been induced to sign something in circumstances where the contents of what was signed differ fundamentally from what the person was led to believe.  Where a plea is upheld, the court can set aside the contract (void ab initio).  Special circumstances must exist for the defense to succeed: it does not cover a claim where someone either misunderstood or failed to read the terms and conditions.

An octuple of Lindsay Lohan signatures on Lohanic merchandise. 

It’s novel in that it differs from other aspects of contract law such as the provisions which permit judges to strike-out particular clauses or even entire contracts if their enforcement is held to be “unconscionable”.  Non est factum is available even where terms and conditions can be reasonable such as the sale of a property for fair value; it hinges instead on the state of mind of the signee and the circumstances under which a signature was induced.  Typically, courts are most sympathetic to “innocent victims”, those who through no fault of their own (those illiterate, deaf, blind or suffering some other relevant incapacity) could not understand the document they were signing and relied upon another for advice.  Such is the reverence in contract law for the sanctity of the signature, a heavy evidential onus of proof is laid upon a claimant for non est factum to succeed; it’s a rare and exceptional defense.

The signature dish

Noted chefs and great restaurants often have signature dishes, not necessarily unique to them but something with which they’re famously associated.  Countries and regions also have signature dishes, sometimes advertised and promoted and sometimes just a link which develops over time.  There can even be disputes if the origin of something is thought a source of pride; there are factions in both Australia and New Zealand which lay claim to the pavlova. 

Minnesota Hotdish.

Despite the name, the concept of the Minnesota’s signature hotdish didn’t originate there and, with variations, is popular across the Upper Midwest region of the United States.  As a dish, such is the simplicity in preparation and adaptability in content that something recognizably close has probably been a feature of human cuisine for as long as the technical means of production has been available.  Anything of the hotdish type contains usually a starch, a meat, canned or frozen vegetables with canned soup as the binding agent; cooked in the one flat dish, it’s served heated.  The distinguishing characteristic of the classic Minnesota hotdish is the use of mushroom soup but beyond that, there’s much variation, inventiveness encouraged by the many hotdish completions in the region.  As well as the traditional beef base, tuna, turkey and chicken are used, pasta is often replaced by rice or potatoes and vegetarian versions have appeared.  The critical aspect seems to be the texture, while a Minnesota hotdish won’t entirely maintain the shape when sliced, it should have sufficient integrity for the potatoes or breadcrumbs to stay atop and not sink into the mix.

Hubert Humphrey, Cardinal Terence Cooke (1921–1983; Archbishop of New York 1968-1983) President Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969) & Richard Nixon, twenty-third Alfred E Smith dinner, New York, 16 October 1968.  Cardinal Cooke was a less controversial figure than his predecessor (Cardinal Francis Spellman (1889–1967; prelate of the US Catholic Church & Archbishop of New York 1939-1967)).

Hubert Horatio Humphrey (1911–1978) served as a senator for Minnesota (1949-1964 & 1971-1978) and as US vice president (1965-1969).  He was the Democrat Party’s nominee for president in 1968, his candidature something of a rush-job after LBJ's abrupt decision not to seek re-election.  As part of the 1968 campaign, his wife’s Minnesota hotdish recipe was published, unusual today in that it didn’t include the potato gems which usually now sit atop the concoction.  Mrs Humphrey’s culinary campaign contribution wasn’t decisive, her husband, although running Republican Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) close in the popular vote (Nixon (31,783,783 votes; 43.4%), Humphrey (31,271,839; 42.7%)), lost the electoral college (Nixon, 32 states & 301 votes, Humphrey 13 states & 191 votes).

Mrs Humphrey’s Ingredients

4 tablespoons shortening
2 green bell peppers, sliced
1 medium onion, chopped
1 lb (500 g) ground beef
1½ half teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
2 eggs
2 cups whole kernel corn
4 medium tomatoes, sliced
½ cup dry bread crumbs
Butter

Mrs Humphrey’s Instructions

(1) Put shortening in skillet; lightly fry green peppers, onion and ground beef for 3 minutes or until partially done. Salt and pepper. Remove from heat; stir in eggs and mix well.

(2) Place 1 cup corn in casserole. Top with layer of meat mixture and layer of sliced tomatoes.

(3) Repeat until corn, meat mixture and tomatoes are used.

(4) Cover casserole with crumbs. Dot with bits of butter.

(5) Bake at 375º F (190º C) for 1 hour or until heated thoroughly.

It can be finished in a grill to add something to the cheese.  Serve with a side salad and rolls.

Hitler's signature

Becoming tremulous: Hitler’s signature: 1933-1945.

Between 1943-1945, Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) handwriting suffered and, towards the end, it took some effort even to etch his name, a process which happened in conjunction with a physical decline noted in many contemporary accounts.  The reason for this deterioration has been discussed by doctors, historians and popular authors, most recently in 2015 by Norman Ohler (b 1970) in Der totale Rausch: Drogen im Dritten Reich (The Total Rush: Drugs in the Third Reich), published in English in 2017 as Blitzed: Drugs in Nazi Germany (Penguin, ISBN: 9780141983165).  Blitzed is a study of the use of methamphetamine stimulants in German society, the military and Hitler himself during the Nazi years with a focus especially on the relationship between the Führer and his personal physician, Dr Theodor Morell (1886–1948) who prescribed and administered a variety of drugs and vitamins between 1936-1945.  It’s the use of opioids and psychoactive drugs that is of most interest.

A best seller, Ohler wrote a lively work in a jaunty style which made his book readable but did attract criticism from the academic and professional historians never happy with journalistic trespassing on their carefully trimmed turf.  While there’s always sensitivity to authors injecting elements of humour and pop-culture references into anything about Hitler and the Third Reich, these essentially stylistic objections matter less than the substantive concerns about presenting as proven fact inferences drawn from incomplete or inconclusive sources.  That critique of scholarship should be noted but Blitzed needs to be read as just another text interpreting the documents of the era and in that, if read in conjunction with other accounts of the time, Ohler’s thesis is in places compelling while sometimes contradicted by multiple other sources.  The argument that the drugs had no effect Hitler’s decline and increasingly erratic behavior were due to stress and the onset of Parkinson’s disease is as dogmatic a position as many accuse Ohler of taking.  There are interesting aspects in the accounts from 1943-1945: the unexpected way Hitler’s physical tremors briefly vanished in the aftermath of the explosion during the assassination attempt in July 1944 and the various clandestine analysis of Morell’s preparations, some of which revealed a strong opioid and some harmless concoctions with barely a pharmacological effect.  While clearly not a conventional work of history, Blitzed seems a valuable contribution.

Patient & doctor: Hitler and Dr Morell.

The fault in Blitzed is probably that habitual journalistic tendency to exaggeration.  That stimulants were widely available and demonstratively popular in Germany doesn’t mean the entire workforce, every hausfrau and all servicemen in the Wehrmacht were habitual or even occasional users of amphetamines although, given the documentary evidence and the observational accounts of behavior, the case for Hitler’s addictions (or at least dependence) is stronger.  Critics felt also compelled to run the usual objection to anything which could be constructed as some sort of exculpatory argument; the idea that being stupefied by psychoactive drugs could somehow absolve individual or collective guilt.  Among those who lived the Nazi experience, long has been established the guilt to one degree or another of the many and the innocence of a few.  That said, there seems little doubt the rapidity of the Wehrmacht's advances in 1939-1941 were at least partially attributable to the soldiers being supplied amphetamines which enabled a heightened level of alertness and performance for sometimes thirty hours without need for sleep.  It was a most effective force multiplier.  Other factors, notably (1) the revolutionary approach to deploying tanks as armored spearheads, (2) the used of dive-bombers, (3) the ineptness of the Allied response and (4) luck were more significance but the speed did make a contribution.

Diva

Diva (pronounced dee-vuh or dee-vah)

(1) A distinguished female singer; a prima donna.

(2) By later extension, any female celebrity, especially one who sings.

(3) In slang (use can be derogatory or affectionate),a person with an exalted opinion of their worth, is demanding of others and fussy about personal privileges.

1864: From the Italian diva (diva, goddess, a fine or beautiful woman), from the Latin dīva (goddess), feminine of dīvus (divine, divine one; notably a deified mortal (and related to related to deus (god, deity)), from the Old Latin deivā, from the Proto-Italic deiwā (goddess), feminine of deiwos (god), from the primitive Indo-European deywós (god) & (dyeu- (to shine (in derivatives: “sky, heaven, god”).  Diva, divaism & divadom are nouns and divaesque, divalike & divaish are adjectives; the noun plural is dive or (more commonly in English) divas.  The verbs divaed & divaing have been used but are non-standard.

The use of “diva” began on the Opera stages and it’s not clear who was the first soprano so labeled.  The first known reference to a singer a “diva” dates from 1864 but some historians claim the model for the mode of behavior was the Spanish soprano Maria Malibran (1808-1836) who before dying tragically young was notorious for her demanding personality and dramatic ways; retrospectively “diva” was applied to her.  During her lifetime it was used also of the Swedish soprano Jenny Lind (1820-1887) although apparently only in relation to the beauty of her voice (she was dubbed “the Swedish Nightingale” and she’s remembered also “Jenny Lind soup” (made with mashed sago or rutabaga or sago, chicken stock thickened with a roux, Gruyère cheese, sage, egg yolks and heavy cream, all topped topped with beaten egg whites),  The link to her is said to be it being her favorite dish to sooth the chest and vocal cords prior to a performance.

Lindsay Lohan on the panel of The Masked Singer (2019).  Diva can be a term of endearment. 

Divas (real and imagined) are popular figures to parody and the word has produced a number of derived forms including (1) the nouns divaism (diva-like behavior) & divadom (the condition of being a diva; the sphere of divas) and (2) the adjectives divaesque (behavior reminiscent of a diva (the comparative more divaesque, the superlative most divaesque)), divalike & divaish (pertaining to the manner expected of a diva (some noting of the latter the anagram was HIV/AIDS)).  The adjective divaistic and the verbs divaed & divaing (doing something in a divaish way) are non-standard and used for jocular effect.  In music, the noun “diva house” described a late 1980s subgenre of house music, much associated with booming vocals (handbag house listed usually as the synonym although, being pop culture, there are likely some who find a distinction)).  The noun divo is used of “a male diva” (a man with the traits characteristic of a typical diva (used also with the implication the word should summon in the mind "deviant" (ie he's a bit gay)).  Diva (in the sense used in English) was also borrowed from the Italian in un-adapted form in Catalan, Dutch, French, Norwegian Nynorsk, Portuguese, Serbo-Croatian, Slovak, Spanish, Swedish and Turkish.

Top ten (20, 25, 100 etc) lists are a staple of publishing and the internet and some have assembled list of the “greatest” sopranos of all time but it’s really not possible to compare those who performed over centuries.  For those of the pre-electronic age, obviously no recordings exist and the only evidence of their stage performances is the subjective writings of critics and other contemporaries (of their divalike behavior the contemporary reports may be more reliable).  Even well into the twentieth century, the capabilities of the technology used to record sound and the dubious quality of the storage media means it’s difficult to compare and while “digital re-mastering” greatly enhances sound, it’s not entirely certain how closely the result emulates what originally would have been heard.  These difficulties exist in many fields.  In boxing it’s a challenge to creating rankings because those of one era never fought those in another and in sports where the equipment has such an influence (such as golf and tennis), it can be hard to work out where technology ended and ability & application began.  Even the notions of “best” and greatest are contested.  In something like sprinting where everything comes down to a single metric (such as the elapsed time over 100 metres) perhaps it’s possible but is “the best” by definition the current holder of the world record, whomever held it longest or the runner who was judged to have run in the era with the most formidable competition.  There are nuances too.  In motorsport the question of “the greatest” is often debated and that’s clearly not about who is the fastest because in the 1970s few doubted that was Ronnie Peterson (1944–1978) but it’s rare to see him on lists because the sport is so focused on titles.  So it’s probably absurd to create a “greatest divas” list although some have and while there will always be variations, some names are likely always to appear:

Victoria de los Angeles (1923-2005): De los Angeles sang in an age of divas yet according to all reports she was the most un-diva-like of them all.  What made her a great singer was the sheer beauty of her voice, coupled with a delivery which seemed genuinely to affect her audience, one critic noting she didn’t so much master her repertoire as “seduce it”.  It was of course a technique to use a voice to evoke emotion in others and many singers do it but de los Angeles managed it with an innocence which made those listening forget the technical tricks of the trade and just feel.

Maria Callas (1923-1977): There is a cult surrounding Callas and even half a century-odd after her death, she remains probably the best known of all the divas, including among those who have never heard her sing a note.  Her tempestuous private life accounts for much of that but she deserves the reputation she gained as a singer while at the height of her powers.  Both her training and technique were unconventional: Although never the most refined singer, she transcended that by brining to her roles a thrilling intensity and an untypical willingness to sound ugly if that’s what the role demanded; she was a great actress as well as a singer.  Where Callas sits in the pantheon will always be debated but she remains unique.

Kirsten Flagstad (1895-1962): There should probably be a special category for those who sing Richard Wagner’s (1813–1883) operas because as well as tonal beauty and a great memory, they need endurance and sheer power and in all this the Norwegian Flagstad set a mark not yet surpassed.  Even all that is really not enough to conquer the Wagnerian repertoire because a soprano needs also a sense of drama and several modes of attacking the declamatory utterances which make his work so memorable.  Hers was a dark voice which could range from the tenderness of the grieving maiden to the violence of Brünnhilde’s battle-cry and Wagner hasn’t been the same since.

Rosa Ponselle (1897-1981): US born of Italian stock, Ponselle performed mostly in the US along with several seasons in England and Italy.  She retired from stage work in the mid-1930s but to continued to sing into the 1950s and although the recordings of her are obviously pre-modern, they reveal enough for listeners to understand why her voice was so often described as “legendarily beautiful”.  That many critics can’t all be wrong.

Elisabeth Schwarzkopf (1915-2006): It may sound strange to speak of a soprano as “a technician” but it seems appropriate for Schwarzkopf who mastered such a range of styles and material; the word which appears time after time in the critical notices was “flawless”.  What should not be forgotten however were the innovations for she “invented” some of the ways sopranos “phrase” things are now part of the orthodoxy of performance.  Her 1965 performance of Richard Strauss's (1864-1949) Vier Letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs) with the Radio-Symphonieorchester Berlin under György Széll (1897–1970) is definitive: the need again to record the songs vanished because it's simply not possible to improve on Schwarzkoph's recording.  She must have agreed with the critics because she choose seven of her own recordings when appearing on the BBC’s Desert Island Discs.

Renata Tebaldi (1922-2004): Tebaldi’s career began quite modestly in the last days of World War II (1939-1946 and in the early post-war years she confined herself almost exclusively to Italian works of the late nineteenth & early twentieth century but during the 1950s & 1960s she emerged was the leading Italian soprano.  By her own admission she was never a great “actress” and relied for effect on her voice but it alone was enough, critics describing it with terms like creamy or velvety, observing the way audiences would “bask” in its waves.  Because she performed in the same era as Callas the two are often compared but they were very different singers; except for the price tags, one may as well compare a Rolls-Royce with a Ferrari.