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

Monday, June 8, 2020

Surreal

Surreal (pronounced suh-ree-uhl (U) or sur-reel (non-U))

(1) Of, relating to, or characteristic of surrealism, an artistic and literary style; surrealistic.

(2) Having the disorienting, hallucinatory quality of a dream; unreal; fantastic & and incongruous.

(3) As surrealism, an artistic movement and an aesthetic philosophy that, inter alia, explored the “liberation of the mind” by emphasizing the critical and imaginative powers of the subconscious.

(4) In mathematics as surreal numbers, a collection of numbers which includes both the real numbers and the infinite ordinal numbers, each real number surrounded by surreals, which are closer to it than any real number.

1936: A back formation from surrealism, the construct being ; sur- + realism, from the French surréalisme, the construct being sur- (beyond) + réalisme (realism).  Sur- ((over in the sense of “on top of” & over- in the sense of “excessive; excessively; too much”)) was from the Old French sur-, sour-, sor- & soure-, from a syncopation of the Latin super- (above, on top, over; upwards; moreover, in addition, besides) from the Proto-Italic super, from the primitive Indo-European upér (over, above (and cognate with the Ancient Greek πέρ (hupér) (above) and the Proto-Germanic uber (which in English became “over”)).  The English sur- was from the Middle English sur-, from the Old French sur-, sour-, sor- & soure-, a syncopic form of the Latin super.  Sur is a doublet of super-, over- and hyper-.  Real was from the Middle English real, from the Old French reel, from the Late Latin reālis (actual), from the Latin rēs (matter, thing), from the primitive Indo-European rehís (wealth, goods).  Surreal is a noun & adjective, surreally is an adverb, surrealism & surreality are nouns and surrealistic is an adjective; the noun plural is surreals.

Lobster Telephone (1936) by Salvador Dali, one of a dozen-odd originals (in colors and shades of cream created by the artist).

In French, the noun surréalisme appeared first in the preface to Guillaume Apollinaire's (1880-1918) play Les Mamelles de Tirésias (1916-1917 and first performed in 1917).  The word was taken up in the 1920s by French intellectuals who created a number of (competing) Manifeste de Surréalisme (Surrealist manifesto) which were documents exploring the nature of human psychology and the way the radical imagination could produce transformative art.  Such was the nature of their texts, inspiration was offered to groups as diverse as landscape painters and anarchists and anyone else attracted to the idea (if not the business) of revolution.  The English form of the word appeared first in 1931, the French spelling having been in use since 1927.  Surrealist as an adjective and noun (from the 1917 French surréaliste) has been in use since 1925 while the adjective surrealistic dates from 1930.

La Trahison des Images (The Treachery of Images) (1929), oil on canvas, by Rene Magritte (1898-1967), Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

The French text Ceci n’est pas une pipe (This is not a pipe) is an act of deconstruction, a statement that a painting is a representation of something, not the object itself.  It’s a statement of the obvious but is both in the artistic tradition of opposition to oppressive rationalism and an influential strand in the history of Surrealism and Pop Art.

Mama, papa is wounded! (1927) by Yves Tanguy (1900-1955), oil on canvas, Museum of Modern Art, New York.

One of the motifs of surrealist painters was a deliberate disconnection between the title of a work and any immediately obvious meaning. Tanguy’s Mama, papa is wounded! was a painting in one of the recognized surrealist styles: a landscape of wide vista littered with abstract shapes, the title taken from a case-study in a psychiatry textbook.  Beyond mentioning he’d imagined the whole canvas before lifting a brush, Tangay gave no clue about the meaning, but coming so soon after Great War, many focused on a link with the many French causalities of the conflict, the depiction of their horrific injuries also part of an artistic movement in the post-war years.

Swans Reflecting Elephants (1937), oil on canvas by Salvador Dali (1904-1989)

Salvador Dali remains the best-known surrealist painter and Swans Reflecting Elephants is an example of his paranoiac-critical method, which attempted to use art to represent how subconscious thought might summon the irrational imagery when in a state of psychosis or paranoia.  The work is interesting too in that it’s the most perfect example of a double image, the trees and swans reflected in the mirror-like surface of the water as lake as elephants.  Dali himself would sometimes discuss the usefulness of the mirror as a device to explore the divergence between conscious reality and the world of the subconscious.

Jean-Martin Charcot, documentary photographs of hysteria patients at La Salpêtrière Asylum 1878, printed in Le Cinquantenaire de L’hystérie (La Révolution Surréaliste (1928)) by André Breton (1896–1966) & Louis Aragon (1897–1982).  Breton & Aragon lamented that hysteria (which they called "the greatest poetic discovery of the late nineteenth century") was being redefined by the new discipline of psychiatry as merely a symptom of mental illness which could be eliminated by suggestion alone.

The link between surrealist art and madness long intrigued the medical community and the interest later extended to the relationship with modernism in general.  Remarkably, it wasn’t until 1980 with the publication of the third edition (DSM-III) that the diagnosis “hysteria” was removed from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.  Hysteria had for centuries been a kind of omnibus diagnosis, applied to those (almost always women) displaying an extraordinary array of mental and physical symptoms, the gendered hysteria derived from the Ancient Greek word for uterus.  To many Surrealists, hysteria was the state in which a poetic expression of the mind’s wilder impulses could be unleashed, meaning that instead of being silenced, this fundamental condition of being female could usefully be objectified.  History and art met in the decade of the surrealists because the 1930s was a time to be hysterical, less about what was happening than the fear of what was to come but the reaction to the Exposition Internationale du Surréalisme, an exhibition by surrealist artists held in Paris in January-February 1938 was not despair or shock but indifference, the novelty of the form having passed, the claim the exhibition needed to be understood as a single installation convincing few.  In the history of the movement, the peak had actually passed and although surrealist works would continue to be produced (and actually mass-produced as wildly popular prints) in the post-war world, the output was repetitive.  The avant-garde having plundered from surrealism what could be carried off, explored other directions.

Woman’s Dinner Dress (February 1937) by Elsa Schiaparelli (1890-1973), printed silk organza and synthetic horsehair, Philadelphia Museum of Art.

The fragments however endure.  Elsa Schiaparelli was an Italian fashion designer who took the objects made famous by the Futurists, Dadaists, & Surrealists and integrated them into clothing, her most memorable piece a white evening gown adorned with a large Daliesque lobster.  A design which would now attract little attention, at the time it was a sensation, its audacity a contrast with the solid pastels and other subdued hues with which Coco Chanel (1883-1971) had defined Parisian sophistication.  The playful designs she adopted (a telephone-shaped handbag, buttons in the shape of lollipops, fingernail gloves and hats in shapes borrowed from industry and agriculture) were not always original but she lent them a respectability in the world of high-fashion. 

In the surreal style: Salvador Dali (2021) by Javier Peña and Lindsay Lohan by Mohamad Helmi on Displate.

Sunday, September 27, 2020

Binge

Binge (pronounced binj)

A period or bout, usually brief, of excessive indulgence in something, historically strong drink but later food and of late, popular culture in digital form.

1854: Etymologists regard binge an adaptation of the northern English dialectical binge, of unknown origin and noted originally as a Northampton dialect word with meanings in Lincolnshire and Northamptonshire including “drinking bout, drink heavily & soak up alcohol” although the original meaning was likely “soak” in the sense of "to soak in water a wooden vessel, that would otherwise leak" to make the wood swell (a meaning free of any association with alcohol), a use noted in Leicestershire Words, Phrases and Proverbs (1848) by English academic Arthur Benoni Evans (1781–1854) who recorded it was "extended locally to excessive drinking", usually in the form "soaking".

During World War I (1914-1918), it came to be applied to eating as well as drinking and binge-eating is now a recognized disorder although the phrase is casually used in a non clinical context.  In the twenty-first century, after the roll-out of fast broadband reached critical-mass, real-time streaming services became viable and binge watching came to be used to describe the practice among youth of streaming many hours of the one programme in one session, something which historically would have been done over weeks or even months.  "Binge watching" however pre-dates the mass-adoption of broadband, recorded first in 1996 when the technology (of necessity) tended to be tapes, or for the early adopters, the DVD (digital versatile disc), introduced that year.  The related forms are binged & bingeing.

Binche: Binging in Belgium

The modern construct which today is Belgium wasn’t created at the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815), emerging as an independent country only in 1830 after the Belgian Revolution when it it seceded from the Netherlands, itself a political creation of the congress.  Having borders with France and Germany always focused Belgium thoughts on defense and in Medieval times, walls were constructed around many cities.

Of these, the city of Binche retains the longest remains of walls, with some 1¼ miles (2.1 km) of fortifications, some dating from as early as 1230.  Binche is also known for its annual beer festival which takes place just before the start of Lent each year, the highlight the surreal sight of men in clown masks parading through the streets, drinking beer, beating drums and throwing oranges into the crowd.  Visiting foreigners, often unaware Belgium beers are brewed with alcohol content four or five times greater than that to which they’re accustomed, especially enjoy Binche.  Despite that, the alleged connection between Binche drinking and the English term binge drinking is apocryphal; just fake news.

Sleeping beauty re-imagined.

According to the US Center for Disease Control (CDC), binge drinking is associated with many health problems including (1) unintentional injuries such as motor vehicle crashes, falls, burns, and alcohol poisoning, (2) violence including homicide, suicide, intimate partner violence, and sexual assault, (3) sexually transmitted diseases, (4) unintended pregnancy and poor pregnancy outcomes, including miscarriage and stillbirth, (5) fetal alcohol spectrum disorders, (6) sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS), (7) chronic diseases such as high blood pressure, stroke, heart disease, and liver disease, (8) cancer of the breast (among females), liver, colon, rectum, mouth, pharynx, larynx, and esophagus (9) cognitive decline and (10) memory and learning problems.

Friday, August 16, 2024

Obliterate

Obliterate (pronounced uh-blit-uh-reyt (U) or oh-blit-uh-reyt (non-U))

(1) To remove or destroy all traces of something; do away with; destroy completely.

(2) In printing or graphic design, to blot out or render undecipherable (writing, marks, etc.); fully to efface.

(3) In medicine, to remove an organ or another body part completely, as by surgery, disease, or radiation.

1590–1600: From the Latin oblitterātus, perfect passive participle of oblitterō (blot out), from oblinō (smear over) and past participle of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance), the construct being ob- (a prefixation of the preposition ob (in the sense of “towards; against”)) + litter(a) (also litera) (letter; script) + -ātus (-ate).  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  True synonyms include black out, eliminate, exterminate, annihilate, eradicate, delete, erase & expunge because to obliterate something is to remove all traces.  Other words often used as synonyms don’t of necessity exactly convey that sense; they include obscure, ravage, smash, wash out, wipe out, ax, cancel and cut.  Obliterate & obliterated are verds & adjetives, obliteration & obliterator are nouns, obliterature & obliterating are nouns, verb & adjective, obliterable & obliterative are adjectives and obliteratingly is an adverb; the noun plural is obliterations.

Social anxiety can be "obliterated".  Who knew?

The verb obliterate was abstracted from the phrase literas scribere (write across letters, strike out letters).  The noun obliteration (act of obliterating or effacing, a blotting out or wearing out, fact of being obliterated, extinction) dates from the 1650s, from the Late Latin obliterationem (nominative obliteratio), the noun of action from the past-participle stem of oblitterāre (to efface; cause to disappear, blot out (a writing) & (figuratively) cause to be forgotten, blot out a remembrance).  The related late fourteenth century noun oblivion (state or fact of forgetting, forgetfulness, loss of memory) was from the thirteenth century Old French oblivion and directly from the Latin oblivionem (nominative oblivio) (forgetfulness; a being forgotten) from oblivisci, the past participle of oblitus (forget) of uncertain origin.  Oblivion is if interest to etymologists because of speculation about a semantic shift from “to be smooth” to “to forget”, the theory based on the construct being ob- (using ob in the sense of “over”) + the root of lēvis (smooth).  For this there apparently exists no documentary evidence either to prove or disprove the notion.  The Latin lēvis (rubbed smooth, ground down) was from the primitive Indo-European lehiu-, from the root (s)lei- (slime, slimy, sticky).

Obliterature

The noun obliterature is a special derived form used in literary criticism, the construct being oblit(erate) + (lit)erature.  It describes works of literature in some way "obliterated or mad void", the most celebrated (or notorious according to many) being those which "interpreted" things in a manner not intended by the original author but the words is applied also to texts deliberately destroyed, erased or rendered unreadable, either as an artistic statement or as a result of censorship, neglect, or decay.  La biblioteca de Babel" (The Library of Babel (1941)) by Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986) was a short story which imagined a universe consisting of an infinite library containing every possible book but all volumes are some way corrupted or comprise only random strings of characters; all works wholly unintelligible and thus useless.  The chaotic library was symbolic of the most extreme example of obliterature in that all works had been rendered unreadable and devoid of internal meaning.

Nazis burning books, Berlin, 1933.

Probably for a long as writing has existed, there has been censorship (and its companion: self-censorship).  Some censorship is official government policy while countless other instances exist at institutional level, sometimes as a political imperative, some time because of base commercial motives.  The most infamous examples are literary works banned or destroyed as political or religious repression including occasions when the process was one of public spectacle such as the burning of books in Nazi Germany, aimed at Jewish, communist and other “degenerate or undesirable” authors.   The critique: “They burn the books they cannot write” is often attributed German-Jewish poet, writer and literary critic Heinrich Heine (1797–1856) whose work was among the thousands of volumes placed on a bonfire in Berlin in 1933 but it’s a paraphrase of a passage from his play Almansor (1821-1822), spoken by a Muslim after Christian had burned piles of the holy Quran: “Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.”  (That was but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as well.")

The Address Book (1983) by French conceptual artist Sophie Calle (b 1953) was based on an address book the author found in the street which, (after photocopying the contents) she returned to the owner.  She then contacted those in the book and used the information they provided to create a narrative about the owner, a man she had never met.  This she had published in a newspaper and the man promptly threatened to sue on the grounds of a breach of his right to privacy, demanding all examples of the work in its published form be destroyed.  Duly, the obliterature was performed.  Thomas Phillips' (1937–2022) A Humument: A treated Victorian novel (in various editions 1970-2016) is regarded by most critics as an “altered” book, a class of literature in which novel media forms (often graphical artwork) are interpolated to change the appearance and sometimes elements of meaning.  Phillips use as his base a Victorian-era novel (William (WH) Mallock's (1849–1923) A Human Document (1892)) and painted over its pages, leaving only select words visible to create new narratives, many of which were surreal.  This was obliterature as artistic device and it’s of historic interest because it anticipated many of the techniques of post modernism, multi-media productions and even meme-making.

Erasure Poetry takes an existing text and either erases or blacks-out (the modern redaction technique) words or passages to create a new poem from the remaining words; in the most extreme examples almost all the original is obliterated, with only fragments left to form a new work.  Ronald Johnson (1935–1998) was a US poet who in 1977 published the book-length RADI OS (1977), based on John Milton's (1608–1674) Paradise Lost (1667-1674) and used the redactive mechanism as an artistic device, space once used by the obliterated left deliberately blank, surrounding the surviving words.

Some critics and literary theorists include unfinished and fragmentary work under the rubric of obliterature and while that may seem a bit of a definitional stretch, the point may be that such texts in many ways can resemble what post modern (and post-post modern) obliterature practitioners publish as completed work.  There are many unfinished works by the famous which have been “brought to conclusion” by contracted authors, the critical response tending to vary from the polite to the dismissive although, in fairness, it may be that some things were left unfinished for good reasons.  The Portuguese author Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) was extraordinarily prolific and apparently never discarded a single page, leaving a vast archive of unfinished, fragmented, and often unreadable manuscripts, the volume so vast many have never been deciphered.  It’s interesting to speculate that had Pessoa had access to word processors and the cloud whether he would have saved as much; if he’d lived in the age of the floppy diskette, maybe he’d have culled a bit.

The obliteration of animal carcasses with explosives

Strictly speaking, “to obliterate something” means “to remove or destroy all traces” which usually isn’t the case when explosives are used, the result more a wide dispersal of whatever isn’t actually vaporized but there’s something about the word which attracts those who blow-up stuff and they seem often to prefer obliteration to terms which might be more accurate.  As long as the explosion is sufficiently destructive, one can see their point and obliteration does memorably convey the implications of blowing-up stuff.  The word clearly enchanted the US Forest Service which in 1995 issued their classic document Obliterating Animal Carcasses with Explosives, helpfully including a step-by-step guide to the process.  Given it’s probably not a matter about which many have given much thought, the service explained obliterating large animal carcasses was an important safety measure in wilderness recreation areas where the remains might attract bears, or near picnic areas where people obviously wouldn’t want rotting flesh nearby.  A practical aspect also is that in many cases there is no way conveniently to move or otherwise dispose of a large carcass (such as a horse or moose which can weigh in excess of 500 kg (1100 lb) which might be found below a steep cut slope or somewhere remote.  So, where physical transportation is not practical, the chemistry and physics of explosives are the obvious alternative, the guide recommending fireline devices (specially developed coils containing explosive powder), used also to clear combustible materials in the path of a wildfire. 

Interestingly, the guide notes there will be cases in which the goal might not be obliteration.  In some ecosystems, what is most desirable is to disperse the carcass locally into the small chunks suited to the eating habits of predators in the area and when properly dispersed, smaller scavenging animals will break down the left-overs, usually within a week.  To effect a satisfactory dispersal, the guide recommends placing 20 lb (9 kg) of explosives on the carcass in key locations, then using a detonator cord to tie the charges together, the idea being to locate them on the major bones, along the spine.  However, in areas where there’s much human traffic, obliteration is required and the guide recommends placing 20 lb (9 kg) pounds of explosives on top and a similar load underneath although it’s noted this may be impossible if the carcass is too heavy, frozen into the ground, floating in water or simply smells too ghastly for anyone to linger long enough to do the job.  In that case, 55 lb (25 kg) of fireline should be draped over the remains although the actual amount used will depend on the size of the carcass, the general principle being the more explosives used, the greater the chance obliteration will be achieved.  Dispersal and obliteration are obviously violent business but it’s really just an acceleration of nature’s decomposition process.  Whereas a big beast like a horse can sit for months without entirely degrading, if explosives are used, in most cases after little more than a week it’d not be obvious an animal was ever there.  With regard to horses however, the guide does include the warning that prior to detonation, “horseshoes should be removed to minimize dangerous flying debris.”  Who knew?

It’s important enough explosives are used to achieve the desired result but in carcass disposal it's important also not to use too much.  In November 1970, the Oregon Highway Division was tasked with blowing up a 45-foot (14 m) eight-ton (8100 kg) decaying whale which lay on the shores near the town of Florence and they calculated it would need a half-ton (510 kg) of dynamite, the presumption being any small pieces would be left for seagulls and other scavengers.  Unfortunately, things didn’t go according to plan.  The viewing crowds had been kept a quarter-mile (400 m) from the blast-site but they were forced to run for cover as large chunks of whale blubber started falling on them and the roof of a car parked even further away was crushed.  Fortunately there were no injuries although most in the area were splattered with small pieces of dead whale.  Fifty years on, Florence residents voted to name a new recreation ground Exploding Whale Memorial Park in honor of the event.


Sunday, April 17, 2022

Psychosis

Psychosis (pronounced sahy-koh-sis)

In psychiatry, a severe mental disorder (sometimes with physical damage to the brain), more serious than neurosis, characterized by disorganized thought processes, disorientation in time and space, hallucinations, delusions and a disconnection from reality.  Paranoia, manic depression, megalomania, and schizophrenia are all psychoses.

1847: From the New Latin & Late Greek psȳ́chōsis, the construct being psycho- + -osis, the source being the Ancient Greek ψύχωσις (psúkhōsis) (animation, principle of life), psych from the Ancient Greek ψυχή (psukh or psykhē) (mind, life, soul).  The suffix –osis is from the Ancient Greek -ωσις (-ōsis) (state, abnormal condition or action), from -όω (-óō) (stem verbs) + -σις (-sis); -oses was the plural form and corresponding adjectives are formed using –otic, thus respectively producing psychoses and psychotic.  The Ancient Greek psykhosis meant "a giving of life; animation; principle of life".  In English, the original 1847 construction meant "mental affection or derangement" while the adjective psychotic (of or pertaining to psychosis) dates from 1889, coined from psychosis, on the model of neurotic/neurosis and ultimately from the Ancient Greek psykhē (understanding, the mind (as the seat of thought), faculty of reason).

In clinical use there are many derived forms (with meanings more precise than is often the case when such words migrate to general use) including antipsychotic, micropsychotic, neuropsychotic, nonpsychotic, postpsychotic, prepsychotic, propsychotic, protopsychotic, quasipsychotic, semipsychotic & unpsychotic.  The useful portmanteau word sarchotic (the construct a blend of sarcastic + psychotic) is used to describe a statement so distrubingly sarcastic it can't be certain if the remark is intended to be humerous or the person making it genuinely is psychotic and even then there are graduations for which the adverb is used, the comparative being "more psychotically" and the superlative "most psychotically".  Psychosis & psychoticism are nouns, psychotic is a noun & adjective and psychotically is an adverb; the noun plural is psychoses.

Psychosis and the DSM

The word psychosis was a mid-nineteenth century creation necessitated by early psychiatry’s separation of psychiatric conditions from neurological disorders.  Originally a generalized concept to refer to psychiatric disorders, gradually it became one of the major classes of mental illness, assumed to be the result of a disease process, and, more recently, to a symptom present in many psychiatric disorders.  During this evolution, the diagnostic criteria shifted from the severity of the clinical manifestations and the degree of impairment in social functioning to the presence of one or more symptoms in a set of psychopathological symptoms.  By the early twentieth century, the concept of neurosis (which once embraced both the psychiatric and the neurological disorders), became restricted to one major class of psychiatric disease whereas psychosis (which once embraced all psychiatric disorders) became restricted to the other.

The first consensus-based classification with a description of diagnostic terms was in the first edition (DSM-I (1952)) of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) in which mental disorders were divided into two classes of illness: (1) organic disorders, caused by or associated with impairment of brain tissue function; and (2) disorders of psychogenic origin without clearly defined physical cause or structural changes in the brain.  When DSM-II (1968) was released, the classifications were revised with mental disorders now classed as (1) psychoses and (2) neuroses, personality disorders, and other non-psychotic mental disorders.  Psychosis was defined as a mental disorder in which mental functioning is impaired to the degree that it interferes with the patient's ability to meet the ordinary demands of life and recognize reality.

Advances in both neurology and psychiatry led to an extensive revision in DSM-III (1980).  Radically, all traditional dichotomies (organic versus functional, psychotic versus neurotic etc) were discarded with psychiatric syndromes assigned to one of fifteen categories of disease.  At the labelling level, the term psychotic was used to describe a patient at a given time, or a mental disorder in which at some time during its course, all patients evaluate incorrectly the accuracy of their perceptions and thoughts but the editors emphasized it should not be applied to patients suffering only minor distortions of reality, regardless of how exactly they might fulfil the clinical criteria.  The revisions in DSM-III-R (1987) extended only to slight changes in terminology.

Mirroring the changes in diagnostic criteria published by the WHO, DSM-IV (1994) noted the diagnosis of psychosis should no longer be based on the severity of the functional impairment but rather on the presence of certain symptoms which included delusions, hallucinations, disorganized speech and grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior.  This emphasis on psychoses being spectrum conditions was continued in DSM-5 (2013) with schizoid (personality) disorder and schizophrenia defining its mild and severe ends.  Additionally, a more precise diagnostic framework was defined in which patients were assessed in terms both of symptoms and duration of suffering.

Two examples of "schizophrenia art".

My Eyes in the Time of Apparition (1913) by August Natterer (1868-1938).

The life of German artist August Natterer began innocuously enough, studying engineering, travelling extensively, marrying and building a successful career as an electrician.  However, in his thirties, he began to experience anxiety attacks and delusions and in 1907 suffered a hallucination in which thousands of images flashed before his eyes in little more than thirty minutes.  So affected by the experience that he attempted suicide, he was admitted to an asylum and would spend the remaining quarter-century of his life in and out of institutes for the insane.  In the literature, Natterer is referred to as Neter, a pseudonym used by his psychiatrist to protect patient and family from the social stigma then associated with mental illness.  He described the 1907 hallucination as a vision of the Last Judgment which he described as:

"...10,000 images flashed by in half an hour.  I saw a white spot in the clouds absolutely close – all the clouds paused – then the white spot departed and stood all the time like a board in the sky. On the same board or the screen or stage now images as quick as a flash followed each other, about 10,000 in half an hour… God himself occurred, the witch, who created the world – in between worldly visions: images of war, continents, memorials, castles, beautiful castles, just the glory of the world – but all of this to see in supernal images. They were at least twenty meters big, clear to observe, almost without color like photographs… The images were epiphanies of the Last Judgment. Christ couldn't fulfil the salvation because he was crucified early... God revealed them to me to accomplish the salvation."

After his suicide attempt and committal to the first of what would be several mental asylums, Natterer thereafter maintained that he was the illegitimate child of Emperor Napoleon I (Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815)) and "Redeemer of the World".  The vision inspired Natterer to a prolific production of drawings, all documenting images and ideas seen in the vision, one especially interesting to those studying psychosis and schizophrenia being My Eyes in the Time of Apparition (1913), two eyes bloodshot and wide-open eyes staring from the page.  The irises of the eyes do not match.

The Scream (1893), oil, tempera & paste on cardboard, by Edvard Munch (1863-1944), National Gallery of Norway.

Norwegian Edvard Munch was one of a number of artists modern psychiatrists have written of as having both genetic and environmental predispositions to mental illness, schizophrenia in particular; one of Munch’s sisters had schizophrenia, his father suffered from depression, his mother and another sister dying from tuberculosis when he was young.  Munch though was a realist, once telling an interviewer, “I cannot get rid of my illnesses, for there is a lot in my art that exists only because of them.”  The idea of affliction as a source or artistic inspiration appears often in the literature of art, music and such and in that it's something of a parallel with those who produce their finest work while living under political oppression; unpleasant as that can be, reform can see careers suffer, famous dissidents abruptly left as "rebels without a cause" after the fall of the Soviet Union (1922-1991) and a generation of the UK's activists found grist for their mills less prolific after the Tory Party had Margaret Thatcher (1925–2013; UK prime-minister 1979-1990) walk the political plank.  Where one door closes however, another sometimes opens and in John Major (b 1943; UK prime-minister 1990-1997) the comedians found a rich vein of material.    

His was a troubled life and in 1908, following a psychotic break exacerbated by alcoholism, Munch was admitted to a mental health clinic, later diagnosed with neurasthenia, a clinical condition now known to be closely associated with hypochondria and hysteria.  Adding to his problems, the Nazis labelled Munch’s style “degenerate art” and in 1937 confiscated many of his works but their disapprobation had less of an influence on his painting than his schizophrenia, his output continuing to feature figures obviously tortured by anguish and despair.  The apparently frantic strokes of the brush and his seemingly chaotic pallet of colors have long intrigued both critics and clinicians seeing insight into his state of mind, the idea being his paintings provide something of a visual representation of how schizophrenia might lead individuals to see the world.

Lindsay Lohan, following Edvard Munch, rendered by Vovsoft in comicbook style.

Endlessly reproduced, the subject of numerous memes and the inspiration for many re-interpretations, The Scream is Munch’s most famous work and the most emblematic of what now casually is called “schizophrenic art” (unfortunately often conflated with “art by schizophrenics”).  For decades it has been the chosen artistic representation for the angst-ridden modern human condition, the artist in 1890 noting in his diary a still vivid memory: “I was walking along the road with two friends—the sun went down—I felt a gust of melancholy—suddenly the sky turned a bloody red... I felt this big, infinite scream through nature.  That entry was written some years after the sight and before painting The Scream in 1893 but the moment stayed with him because his vision of the sky caused him to “tremble with pain and angst” and he felt he heard his “…scream passing endlessly through the world.  For historians those fragment of memory proved of interest and in his book Krakatoa:The Day the World Exploded (2003), detailing the 1883 eruption of the Indonesian volcano Krakatoa, Simon Winchester (b 1944) connected the “blood red” Norwegian sky with the fiery sunsets created by the ash from the explosion circulating the planet, high in the atmosphere.

Krakatoa: The Day the world exploded.

The idea of a link between the catastrophic geological event and the painting had long intrigued art historians who understood such a sight would have appeared “surreal”, decades before the surrealism movement became established and that it was a natural phenomenon is well-supported by theoretical modelling.  Between 20 May-21 October 1883, Krakatau, a volcanic island in the Sunda Strait, erupted, the “main event” happening on 27 August, during which over two-thirds of the island and its surrounding archipelago was destroyed, the remnants subsequently collapsing into a caldera (in volcanology, a large crater formed by collapse of the cone or edifice of a volcano).  The event created a large tsunami which, much diminished, reached the Atlantic and it’s believed that day’s third explosion was history’s loudest known sound.  What Edvard Munch is thought to have seen is the evening light of the sun being colored by the millions of tons of sulfur dioxide and volcanic dust blasted high into the atmosphere, circulating there for years including over Oslo when the artist was taking his walk.  Nor was he wholly wrong in suggesting “a scream passing” because such was energy generated by the explosion, the acoustic pressure wave circled the globe at least three times.

Sunday, August 4, 2024

Parmesan

Parmesan (pronounced pahr-muh-zahn, pahr-muh-zan, pahr-muh-zuhn; pahr-muh-zahn, or pahr-muh-zan).

(1) Of or from Parma, in northern Italy.

(2) A hard, dry variety of Italian cheese made from skim milk, often grated and sprinkled over pasta dishes and soups.  It’s known also as Parmesan cheese and it appears with and without the initial capital.

(3) By extension, a similar cheese produced in places other than Parma.

(4) In slang, money in the sense of physical cash.

1510–1520: From the Middle French parmesan, from the Italian parmigiano (of Parma; pertaining to Parma), from an earlier Vulgar Latin parmēsānus, a restructuring of the Classical Latin parmēnsis (from Parma).  Parma is a province of Italy’s Emilia-Romagna region, the locality name thought to be of Etruscan origin.  In the Romance languages the related forms include the Italian parmigiano, the Catalan parmesà, the Portuguese parmesão, the Sicilian parmisanu and the Spanish parmesano.  Parmesan is a noun and parmesany & parmeasnlike (also as parmesan-like) is an adjective; the noun plural is parmesans.  An initial capital is always used with the proper noun (except sometimes in advertizing).

The real parmesan: Parmigiano Reggiano, cut from a wheel.

Within the European Union (EU), the cheese called Parmigiano Reggiano has been granted legal protection (a la hermitage, champagne, cognac etc) as a protected designation of origin (PDO) although around the world, “parmesan” is widely used as a generic term for similar cheeses.  The PDO cheese Parmigiano Reggiano, made only from cow’s milk and salt, is produced in “wheels” which take at least two years to mature, each wheel sealed with a unique identity tag recording the dairy farm and the month in which it was laid down to “cure”.  It may be apocryphal but industry folklore is that when food critics and chefs were asked in a survey which they would choose if ordered to live in a world with only one cheese, most answered: Parmigiano Reggiano.  Eating cheese can be part of a healthy diet, but it depends on the type and amount consumed.   Cheese is a good source of protein, is rich in calcium and contains vitamins such as B12 and A but it tends also to be high in saturated fat, is calorie-dense and usually has a high sodium (salt) content.  One noted advantage of parmesan is it’s naturally low in lactose, making it easier to digest for people with lactose intolerance.

Wheels of parmesan and other wheels

Italian artistic gymnast Signorina Giorgia Villa with wheels of cheese, Parmigiano Reggiano promotional photo-shoot, 2022.

Many consumers buy their parmesan in pre-grated packs or in a powered form so may not have been aware it is, in its original form, a wheel.  That was until the publication of a set of photographs of Signorina Giorgia Villa (b 2003), an Italian artistic gymnast and member of her country’s team at the 2024 Paris Olympics.  Signorina Villa is a brand ambassador for Parmigiano Reggiano and the images from her 2022 photo-shoot featured her posing with the now famous wheels, the promotion’s original caption being: “Always together with my best friend @parmigianoreggiano, ready to start again and face new challenges!

Wheels of cheese in cheese storehouse.

Wheels of cheese can weigh more than 40 kg (90 lb) and during the maturation process they are stored in warehouses, usually on shelves.  In August 2023, Giacomo Chiapparini, (1949-2023) from Romano di Lombardia, was killed when a shelf broke in his cheese store, the falling wheels of cheese crushing him.  According to the police report, the event was triggered by a SPF (single point of failure) in a high shelf, the weight of the dislodged wheels creating a “domino effect”, bringing down thousands of wheels on the unfortunate victim.  A spokesman for the Lombardy Fire Department which attended the scene reported emergency staff “had to move the wheels of cheese and the shelves by hand”, adding it “took about twelve hours” to find the deceased.  The wheels were of grana padano, a hard cheese that resembles parmesan, some 25,000 of which were in storage and Signor Chiapparini had been checking on the ripening wheels, the highest of which sat on metal shelves 10 metres (33 feet) tall.

The flaccid cheese wheel in surrealist art: La persistència de la memòria (The Persistence of Memory) is Salvador Dalí’s (1904-1989) most reproduced and best-known painting.   Completed in 1931 and first exhibited in 1932, since 1934 it hangs in New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA).  In popular culture, the work is often referred to as the more evocative “melting clocks”.

Surrealism’s intellectual undercoating was patchy, some of the latter output being openly imitative but with Dalí, critics seemed often ready to find something.  His "theory of softness and hardness" has been called "central to his artistic thinking" at the time The Persistence of Memory was painted and some suggested the flaccidity of the watches was an allusion to Einstein's theory of special relativity, a surreal pondering of the implications of relativity on our once-fixed notions of time and space.  Dalí was earthier, claiming the clocks were inspired not by Einsteinian physics but by imagining a wheel of camembert cheese melting in the Catalan sun.

Lindsay Lohan in Miami, Florida, clothes by Amiparism (AMI), Interview magazine photo-shoot, December 2022.  

The car is a Jaguar XJS convertible with the factory-fitted BBS basketweave (or lattice) wheels.  The BBS wheels appealed on the XJS (1975-1996 and originally XJ-S) when the last version was released in 1991, sometime after the company had been absorbed by the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo).  There were a number of detail changes for the final run, the most notable being the enlargement in 1992 of the V12 engine from 5.3 litres (326 cubic inches) to 6.0 (366), coupled with the latest (four-speed) version of the General Motors (GM) Turbo-Hydramatic 400 which, (as a three-speed), dated from 1963.  No XJ-S with a manual transmission was built after 1976 and the 352 produced existed only because Jaguar had some 400 in their warehouse which had been intended for the Series 3 E-Types (XKE, 1971-1974).

Remarkably for a brand which has a reputation for quality and expertise in design as well as an enviable record in top-line competition, Germany’s BBS Autotechnik GmbH in July 2024 declared insolvency, the second time this has been done in the last year and the fifth time since 2007.  To borrow a phrase, one bankruptcy is unfortunate; five in the last 17 years suggests carelessness.  Analysts have suggested a number of factors have contributed to the troubled corporate history and some did note the recent practice of BBS being passed between private equity firms shouldn’t be ignored (apparently private equity firms have techniques which make bankruptcies profitable) but there were also questionable marketing practices.  What has long puzzled the supply chain is that despite BBS having one of the industry’s most desirable back-catalogs with many older designs enjoying a resurgence of popularity, that market is being supplied by other manufacturers blatantly copying the BBS originals which the company has made no attempt to re-introduce.  There was also the curious matter of “BBS Unlimited”, one of engineering’s weirdest niches: a design of a single wheel which can be fitted to a variety of cars, all wheels shipped with a 5×117.5 mm bolt pattern that nothing of the planet uses, necessitating the fitting of a special BBS adapter.  Rarely has a non-existent problem been so cleverly fixed.  The BBS name has such a cachet that analysts expect the German operation to survive in some form (BBS in the US & Japan are unaffected by what’s happening in Europe) and the suspicion is the current problems are likely linked to the rising interest rates which have seen a number of leveraged buy-outs by private equity firms flounder: in the same week BBS’s predicament was announced, the seat maker Recaro also entered bankruptcy.

Philip Ruddock Water Playground, Dundas Park, Dundas Valley, NSW, Australia.  Politicians are remembered for many things.

Ever since a former Australian minister for immigration (the Liberal Party’s Philip Ruddock (b 1943; Minister for Immigration and Multicultural and Indigenous Affairs 1996-2003) asserted that the country's indigenous peoples “didn’t invent the wheel”, it’s been repeated as a racist trope in far-right (a misleading term but the one in popular use) gatherings and their social medial channels, often with the claim indigenous Australians were the only culture on Earth not to invent (or discover) what is humanity’s simplest machine and the one which underpinned or made possible progress in a number of fields.  However, a number of cultures did not independently develop the wheel including several in Sub-Saharan Africa, a number of the Pacific Islands and those living in the pre-Columbian Americas (although in the latter wheels were used in toys, just not for transportation or tasks such as lifting).  Anthropologists suggest that cultures which didn’t develop the wheel usually had no need for such a device, lacked the large domesticated animals needed to pull wheeled vehicles or lived in an environment which made the use of wheeled carts or trolleys impractical (dense forests, mountainous terrain etc).