Curious

Curious (pronounced kyoor-ee-uhs)

(1) Eager to learn or know; inquisitive; interested, inquiring

(2) Prying; meddlesome, overly inquisitive.

(3) Arousing or exciting speculation, interest, or attention through being inexplicable or highly unusual; odd; strange.

(4) Made or prepared skilfully (archaic).

(5) Done with painstaking accuracy or attention to detail (archaic).

(6) Careful; fastidious (archaic).

(7) Marked by intricacy or subtlety (archaic).

(8) In inorganic chemistry, containing or pertaining to trivalent curium (rare).

1275–1325: From the Middle English curious, from the Old French curius (solicitous, anxious, inquisitive; odd, strange (which endures in Modern French as curieux)), from the Latin cūriōsus (careful, diligent; inquiring eagerly, meddlesome, inquisitive), the construct being cūri- (a combining form of cūra (care) + -ōsus .  The –ōsus suffix (familiar in English as –ous) was from Classical Latin from -ōnt-to-s from -o-wont-to-s, the latter form a combination of two primitive Indo-European suffixes: -went & -wont.  Related to these were –entus and the Ancient Greek -εις (-eis) and all were used to form adjectives from nouns.  In Latin, -ōsus was added to a noun to form an adjective indicating an abundance of that noun.  The English word was cognate with Italian curioso, the Occitan curios, the Portuguese curioso and the Spanish curioso.  The original sense in the early fourteenth century appears to have been “subtle, sophisticated” but by the late 1300s this had been augmented by “eager to know, inquisitive, desirous of seeing” (often in a bad (ie “busybody”) sense and also “wrought with or requiring care and art”, all these meaning reflecting the Latin original.  The objective sense of “exciting curiosity” was in use by at least 1715 but in booksellers' catalogues of the mid-nineteenth century, the word was a euphemism for “erotic, pornographic”, such material called curiosa the Latin neuter plural of cūriōsus.  That was not however what was in the mind of Charles Dickens (1812–1870) when he wrote The Old Curiosity Shop (1840-1841).

The derived forms include noncurious, overcurious, supercurious, uncurious & incuruious.  Both uncurious and incurious are rare and between them there is a difference in meaning and usage, but it is much weaker and less consistently observed than the distinction drawn (though not always observed) between disinterest and uninterest.  Incurious means “lacking curiosity; not inclined to inquire or wonder” and often carries a critical or evaluative tone, implying intellectual complacency or narrow-mindedness; it can be applied to individuals but seems more often used of groups.  Uncurious means “usually not curious” and tends to be descriptive rather than judgmental.  Being rarely used and obscure in what exactly is denoted, some style guides list them as awkward and best avoided, recommending being explicit about what is meant.  Curious is an adjective, curiousness & curiosity are nouns, curiously is an adverb; the noun plural curiosities.  The comparative more curious or curiouser and the superlative most curious or curiousest

The proverb “curiosity killed the cat” means “one should not be curious about things that don’t concern one”.  The phrase “curiouser and curiouser” comes from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) by the English author Lewis Carroll (pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832–1898)).  As a modern, idiomatic form, it’s used to describe or react to an increasingly mysterious or peculiar situation (though usually not one thought threatening).  Alice made her famous exclamation after experiences increasingly bizarre transformations and other strange events in Wonderland; later, what was described would be thought surrealistic.  The phrase has endured and it appears often in literature and popular culture, London’s Victoria and Albert Museum even holding the Alice: Curiouser and Curiouser event.  The author’s use of “bad English” was deliberate, a device to convey the child’s sense of bewildered confusion.  In standard English, the comparative of "curious" is “more curious” with the –er suffix usually appended to words with one or two syllables.  The word “curiouser” thus inhabits a special niche in that although mainstream dictionaries usually list it as “informal” or “non-standard” (ie “wrong”), unlike most “mistakes”, because it’s a literary reference, it’s a “respectable” word (if used in the phrase).  In that, it’s something like “it ain’t necessarily so”.

Depiction of the mad hatter’s tea party by Sir John Tenniel (1820-1914) in an edition called Nursery Alice (1890), an abridged version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland intended for children under five (the original drawing now held by the British Museum).  The book contained 20 illustrations by Sir John who also provided the artwork for the full-length publication.  A fine craftsman, Sir John was noted also for his moustache which “out-Nietzsched” Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900).  Despite much later speculation, no evidence has ever emerged to suggest Lewis Carroll was under the influence of drugs when writing the “Alice” books

Special derived adjectival uses of curious include the portmanteau word “epicurious” (curious about food, especially wishing to try new dishes and cuisines), the construct being epicu(reean) +‎ (cu)rious.  Although the notion of Epicureans (those who are followers of Epicureanism) being focused on food is overstated, that’s the way the word usually appears in popular use.  “Indy-curious” is from UK politics and refers to those interested in the possibility of independence for Wales, without necessarily being a supporter of the proposal.  Those who are “veg-curious” are interested in or contemplating a vegetarian or vegan diet.

The word “curious” became an element in the punch-lines of some “gay jokes” (a now extinct species outside the gay community) but survived in derived forms in sexology, presumably because they can be used neutrally.  The constructs include (1) “pancurious” (exhibiting a state of uncertainty about one's pansexual or panromantic status), (2) “bi-curious” (interested in having relationships with both men and women, curious about one's potential bisexuality; considering a first sexual experience with a member of the same sex (used especially of heterosexuals), (3) gay-curious (curious about one's homosexuality; curious to try homosexuality (4) homocurious (questioning whether one is homosexual), (5) polycurious (curious about or open to polyamory; potentially interested in having relationships with multiple partners and (6) trans-curious (interested in one's potential transness or the experience of a sexual encounter with a trans person.  None of these forms seem to be in frequent use and some may have been created to “cover the field” and there may be some overlap (such as between pancurious and polycurious) and that at least some may be spectrum conditions seems implicit in the way dictionaries list comparative and superlative forms (eg more bi-curious; most bi-curious).

The synonyms include enquiring, inquiring; exquisitive; investigative and the now rare peery, the latter a use of curious in the vein of the “meddling priest” (ie a “busybody” tending to ask questions or wishing to explore or investigate matters not of their concern).  Such a person could be labelled a quidnunc (gossip-monger, one who is curious to know everything that happens) a word (originally as quid nunc) from the early 1700s, the construct being the Latin quid (what? (neuter of interrogative pronoun quis (who?) from the primitive Indo-European root kwo-, stem of relative and interrogative pronouns)) + nunc (now); the idea was of someone habitually asking “What's the news?” and that phrase was one with which for decades the press baron Lord Beaverbrook (Maxwell Aitken, 1879-1964) would pester his editors.  The other group of synonyms reference the word in its “funny-peculiar” sense and include queer, curious: weird, odd, strange & bizarre.  Such an individual, concept or object can be called “a curiosity” and that’s reflected in the noun “curio” which dates from 1851 and meant originally “piece of bric-a-brac from the Far East” and was a short form of curiosity in the mid seventeenth century sense of “object of interest”’ by the 1890s it was in use to refer to rare or interesting bric-a-brac (or just about anything otherwise unclassified) from anywhere.  The related curioso was in use by the 1650s and for two centuries-odd was a word describing “one who is curious" (of science, art, metaphysics and such) or “one who admires or collects curiosities”; it was from the Italian curioso (a curious soul (person)).

1971 Plymouths in Curious Yellow (code GY3): 'Cuda 340 (left) and GTX (right). 

Although buyers of Ferraris, Porsches, Lamborghinis and such still often order cars in bright colors, most of the world’s fleet had for some years been restricted mostly to white, black and variants of silver & gray; it’s a phase the world is going through and it can’t be predicted how long this visually sober ere will last.  In the US in the late 1960s it was different and like other manufacturers, Chrysler had some history in the coining of fanciful names for the “High Impact” colors dating from the psychedelic era.  Emerging from their marketing departments came Plum Crazy, In-Violet, Tor Red, Limelight, Sub Lime, Sassy Grass, Panther Pink, Moulin Rouge, Top Banana, Lemon Twist & Citron Yella.  That the most lurid colors vanished during the 1970s was not because of changing tastes but in response to environmental & public health legislation which banned the use of lead in automotive paints; without the additive, production of the bright colours was prohibitively expensive.  Advances in chemistry meant that by the twenty-first century brightness could be achieved without the addition of lead so Dodge revived psychedelia for a new generation although Sub Lime became Sublime.

Criterion's re-issue of I Am Curious (Blue) and I Am Curious (Blue) with edited (colorized) artwork.  The original posters were monochrome.  

Two years into the first administration of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974), and a year on from his declaration of a “War on Drugs”, it was obvious the psychedelic era was over but bright colors were still popular so come were carried over although the advertising became noticeably “less druggy”.  Although it may be an industry myth, the story told is that Plum Crazy & In-Violet (lurid shades of purple) were in 1969 late additions because the killjoy board refused to sign-off on Statutory Grape but despite that, Plymouth for 1971 decided to change the name of their vibrant hue of yellow from “Citron Yella” to “Curious Yellow” (code GY3), that apparently borrowed from the controversial 1967 Swedish erotic film I Am Curious (Yellow), directed by Vilgot Sjöman (1924-2006); it was followed the following year by I Am Curious (Blue), the two intended originally as 3½ hour epic.  As promoted at the time, the films were advertised as “I Am Curious: A Film in Yellow” and “I Am Curious: A Film in Blue”, the mention of the colors an allusion to the Swedish flag.

Lindsay Lohan does her bit to revive Chrysler’s 1971 Curious Yellow, the New York Post’s Alexa magazine, 5 December 2024.

A footnote to the earlier film is an uncredited appearance by Olof Palme (1927–1986; Prime Minister of Sweden 1969-1976 & 1982-1986) whose assassination remains unsolved. The films are very much period pieces of a time when on-screen depictions of sex were for the first time in some places liberated from most censorship and while this produced an entire genre of blends of eroticism and pornography, some directors couldn’t resist interpolating political commentary (of the left and right); at the time, just about everything (sex included) could be sociological.  Critic and audiences mostly were unconvinced but films like the “Curious” brace and Michelangelo Antonioni’s (1912–2007) Zabriskie Point (1970) later gained a cult following.  Problems encountered during production resulted in the release of Zabriskie Point being delayed until 1970 but in retrospective this was a blessing because if anyone doubted the spirit of the 1960s had died, the film was there to remove all doubt.  A commercial failure, visually, it remains a feast for students of pre-digital cinematography and some maintain the best way to enjoy subsequent viewings is to mute the sound and play the soundtrack on repeat; unsynchronized with the scenes, its an experience rewarding in its own way.  

Nude & Naked

Nude (pronounced nood or nyood)

(1) Naked or unclothed, as a person or the body.

(2) Without the usual coverings, furnishings etc; bare.

(3) In art, being or prominently displaying a representation of the nude human figure.

(4) In law, a contract made without a consideration or other legal essential and therefore invalid (nudum pactum).

(5) In historic commercial use (usually for underwear), a light grayish-yellow brown to brownish-pink color (no longer in common use; now considered offensive because of the cultural implications of its association with white skin).

1531: As an artistic euphemism for naked, use was first applied to sculpture first emerged in the 1610s but the term not common in painting until the mid-nineteenth century when the idea of "the nude" was recognized as a genre.  The origin of the use in painting in the sense of "the representation of the undraped human figure in visual art" is said to date from 1708 and be derived from the French nud, an obsolete variant of nu (naked, nude, bare) also from the Latin nūdus.  The phrase idea of being in the nude (in a condition of being unclothed) emerged in the 1850s in parallel with the use in art criticism.

The adjective nude in legal use dates from the 1530s and meant "unsupported, not formally attested", the use from the Latin nūdus (naked, bare, unclothed, stripped) from the primitive Indo-European root nogw- (naked).  In legal matters it was typically applied in contract law (hence the "nude contract") and, by extension, the general sense of "mere, plain, simple" emerged twenty years later.  is attested from 1550s. In reference to the human body, "unclothed, undraped," it is an artistic euphemism for naked, dating from 1610s (implied in nudity) but not in common use in this sense until mid-nineteenth century.  The noun nudie (a nude show) dates from 1935 while the much earlier noun nudification (making naked) was from 1838, presumably a direct borrowing of the French nudification which had been in use since 1833.  The practice of nudism actually has roots in Antiquity but nudist (as applied to both practitioners and practice) came into use only in 1929 as an adjective and noun, both influenced by the French nudiste.  The noun nudism (the cult and practice of going unclothed) also dates from 1929 and in the UK, however inaccurately, it was described as a cult of German origin which had been picked up also by the more bohemian of the French, the more respectable London press linking the practice with vegetarianism, physical exercise, pagan worship and the eating of seeds.  Nude, nudeness  & nudist are nouns & adjectives and nudity & nudism are nouns; the noun plural is nudes.

Naked (pronounced ney-kid (U) or neck-ed (non-U))

(1) Being without clothing or covering; nude.

(2) Without adequate clothing.

(3) A natural environment bare of any covering, overlying matter, vegetation, foliage, or the like.

(4) Bare, stripped, or destitute.

(5) A descriptor of the most basic version of something sometimes more elaborate or embellished.

(6) In optics, as applied to the eye, sight etc, unassisted by a microscope, telescope, or other instrument.

(7) Defenseless; unprotected; exposed.

(8) Not accompanied or supplemented by anything else.

(9) In botany, (of seeds) not enclosed in an ovary; (of flowers) without a calyx or perianth; (of branches etc) without leaves; (of stalks, leaves etc) without hairs or pubescence.

(10) In zoology, having no covering of hair, feathers, shell etc.

(11) In motorcycle design, a machine in which the frame and engine are substantially exposed by virtue of screens and fairings not being fitted.

Pre 900: From the Middle English nakede & naked (without the usual or customary covering" (of a sword etc)) from the Old English nacod (nude, bare, empty or not fully clothed); related to the Old High German nackot, the Old Norse noktr and Latin nudus; cognate with the Dutch naakt, the German nackt, the Gothic naqths; akin to the Old Norse nakinn, the Latin nūdus, the Greek gymnós and Sanskrit nagnás.  Source was the Proto-Germanic nakwathaz, also the root of the Old Frisian nakad, the Middle Dutch naket, the Old Norse nökkviðr, the Old Swedish nakuþer and the Gothic naqaþs and ultimate source the primitive European nogw (naked), related to the Sanskrit nagna, the Hittite nekumant, the Old Persian nagna, the Lithuanian nuogas, the Old Church Slavonic nagu, the Russian nagoi, the Old Irish nocht and the Welsh noeth.  As applied to qualities, actions, etc, use emerged in the early thirteenth century, the phrase “naked truth” first noted in 1585 in Alexander Montgomerie's (circa 1550-1598) The Cherry and the Slae.  The phrase “naked as a jaybird (1943) was earlier referenced as “naked as a robin” (1879); the earliest known comparative based on it was the fourteenth century “naked as a needle”.  “Naked eye” is from 1660s, the form unnecessary in the world before improvements in lens grinding technology led to the invention of telescopes and microscopes.  The adjective nakedly (without concealment, plainly, openly) was from circa 1200.  The noun nakedness was from the Old English nacedness (nudity, bareness).  Naked is a verb & adjective and nakedness & nakedhood are nouns.  The special use of naked as a noun applies to motorcycles in which case the noun plural is nakeds.

Naked motorcycles:  2010 Ducati 1098 Streetfighter (left) and 2015 MV Agusta Stradale (right).

Those with a fondness for such things can spend a long time admiring the intricacy of machines like these, the exposed pipework of exhaust systems exerting a particular fascination.  On the BMW motorcycle forums (fora for those who insist on the Latin plural) it’s not uncommon to read of longings for the factory to produce a naked version of the straight-six K1600, a machine available since 2011 only with extensive fairings, befitting its role as a “touring bike”.  What the aficionados want is to see are the curves of the six stainless exhaust headers which would be as pleasing as those on the old Benelli Sei (Six, 1973-1978).

1976 Benelli Sei 750.  This is the appeal of the naked look; it would be sad to conceal the sensuous steel beneath some sort of plastic.

The concept of the naked motorcycle is a machine reduced to its essence of a frame, wheels and an engine, thereby making it lighter than more exotically configured models which may include flashings, windshields, saddlebags or fairings.  Simple physics mean a machine with less mass accelerates, turns and stops with less demand of energy and at low speed they tend to be easier to manoeuvre, are lighter to hold up when static and certainly easier to mount on a centre-stand.  There's also the attraction there are fewer things to break, fibreglass fairings being notorious for getting cracked, scratched or broken and Perspex screens are, with age, prone to cloudiness.  The look however is why some buy naked bikes, the intricacies of the exposed mechanicals appealing especially to engineers anxious to display the quality of the frame's welding or the indefinable but real attraction of Allen-headed bolts.  They're also quick.  Although sacrificing the aerodynamic advantages gained by fairings means in some cases the naked machines can have lower top speeds, they tend to accelerate with more alacrity, offer instant responsiveness and, in street use, top speeds are now anyway rarely approached.

1936 John Deere Model B Row Crop Tractor (“Unstyled”).

The concept known to motorcyclists as the “naked” existed also in agricultural machinery, all of which presumably began in a “naked” form with protective housings added later.  As such equipment became big business in commerce, decorative embellishments would have been the last appendages to appear.  Until the 1939 model-cycle, John Deere’s (JD) row crop tractors were “naked” in execution with the steering post, radiator and most of the engine exposed, the wheels often with spokes running from hub to rim.  However, in 1938, JD hired the industrial designer Henry Dreyfuss (1904-1972) and he created the shapes of the sheet metal which was added to cover many of the exposed areas, including the radiator, the new grill unmistakably from the art deco era and perhaps influenced by the memorable “coffin-nosed” Cords (810-812, 1936-1937).  Mr Dreyfuss’s distinctive radiator cowling was for generations a signature element of many of JD’s Tractors.

1956 John Deere Model 60 Row Crop Tractor (“Styled”).

At the time, such ventures were thought “styling” rather than “designing” so the new JD ranges came to be dubbed the “Styled” and the predecessors retrospective this became the “Unstyled” and also a marker of the new was the use of solid steel wheels to replace the spoke units.  Although heavier and using more steel, the solid wheels were cheaper to produce because they eliminated the use of much labor.  JD’s switch to “Styled” versions was phased in over several years with the models “D” & “G” being the last to appear in the original “naked” configuration.  JD and Mr Dreyfuss put effort and capital into the “Styled” project and as the company’s product line for decades indicated, they were well-pleased with the result and no doubt would not have predicted that early in the twenty-first century, with vintage tractors a collectable item (and definitely there are identifiable cults among the calling), there would be those who would take a 1942  “Styled” JD and lovingly transform it into an “Unstyled”.

Trimline phone in white, available also in designer colors.  Western Electric's original Trimline was available in 36 finishes (33 shades plus faux teak or walnut and the obviously daring “Transparent”) including JD’s signature green & yellow.

Although his name remains well-known in the field, Henry Dreyfuss is somewhat neglected in the public imagination although his breadth was remarkable, encompassing both industrial and consumer products ranging from vacuum cleaners, typewriters and alarm clocks to heavy locomotives, tractors and office buildings.  His most enduring contribution to daily American life was his involvement in the design of telephone handsets, his models for Western Electric serving as standard household and office fixtures between the 1940s and 1990s while the wall-mountable Trimline (1965) and twelve-digit touch-phone (1968) to this day remain available as retro items.

Nude or naked?

In many places the words may correctly be used interchangeably.  In law, a nude and a naked contract are the same, a pact which is unenforceable because if doesn’t possess all the elements required to be valid.  The legal maxim nuda pactio obligationem non parit signifies a naked promise which is a promise without anything being provided in return.  Nuda pactio obligationem non parit thus does not create a legal obligation.

The Nude: A Study in Ideal Form (1956) by Kenneth Clark, Bollingen Series, Pantheon Books, New York, 1956.

Lord Clark (Kenneth Clark, 1903-1983), a cultural elitist of a kind now perhaps either extinct or rendered silent by a less deferential culture, opened The Nude: A Study in Ideal Form by noting naked implied something embarrassing yet nude “…carries, in educated usage, no uncomfortable overtone.”  Clark certainly wrote for an “educated” audience and his view was there were works of art in which there were nudes but other depictions were just variations of nakedness for whatever purpose.  The nude, he concluded, “…is not the subject of art, but a form of art.”  In critical circles that's now mostly the accepted orthodoxy but since Antiquity not all elites (even the “educated” ones) have shared the view and it wasn't just medieval popes who sought to cover up the unclothed, sometimes with draping and sometimes fig leaves, all judiciously placed.  Other have been more destructive, burning or reducing to rubble “that which should offend thine eye”. 

Highly qualified content provider Busty Buffy (b 1996) who, as is done in her profession, appears sometimes “in the nude” although Lord Clark would have called that state of undress: “nakedness”.

In other words, the models in men's magazines were photographed naked while figures rendered in fine art were part of the tradition of the nude.  Photographers who thought their work artistic didn't agree and the onset of cultural relativism means such debates, whatever opinions may be held, are now rare.  However, the adoption by some that nude was something to used exclusively about works of art dates only from the eighteenth century, a movement led by critics and the commercial art industry which wanted the English market again to start buying the many nudes available for sale but which, even before the Victorian era, had fallen from fashion.

New York Magazine, February 2008 (Spring Fashion Issue).

Bert Stern’s (1929-2013) nude photo shoot of Marilyn Monroe (1926–1962) was commissioned by Vogue magazine and shot over three days, some six weeks before her death.  In book form, the images captured were compiled and published as The Last Sitting (first edition, William Morrow and Company (1982) ISBN 0-688-01173-X).  Stern reprised his work in 2008 with Lindsay Lohan, the photographs published in February 2008’s spring fashion issue of New York magazine.  Stern chose the medium of forty-six years earlier, committing the images to celluloid rather than using anything digital.  The reprised sessions visually echoed the original with a languorous air though the diaphanous fabrics were draped sometimes less artfully than all those years ago.  He later expressed ambivalence about the shoot, hinting regret at having imitated his own work but the photographs remain an exemplar of peak-Lohanary.

First published in 1968, New York magazine is now owned by Vox media and, unlike many, its print edition still appears on surviving news-stands.  The editorial focus has over the decades shifted, the most interesting trend-line being the extent to which it could be said to be very much a “New York-centred” publication, something which comes and goes but the most distinguishing characteristic has always been a willingness (often an eagerness) to descend into pop-culture in a way the New Yorker's editors would have distained; it was in a 1985 New York cover story the term “Brat Pack” first appeared.  Coined by journalist David Blum (b 1955) and about a number of successful early twenty-something film stars, the piece proved controversial because the subjects raised concerns about what they claimed was Blum’s unethical tactics in obtaining the material.  The term was a play on “Rat Pack” which in the 1950s had been used of an earlier group of entertainers although Blum also noted another journalist's coining of “Fat Pack”, used in restaurant-related stories.

Lindsay Lohan, Playboy magazine cover, January/February 2012.

Nudity & nakedness are defined by both context & circumstances.  The cover photograph for Lindsay Lohan's 2012 Playboy shoot was, in the narrow technical sense, ambiguous because the chair could have been concealing a pair of delicate lace knickers.  Importantly, even though there are stilettos on the feet, this is still a nude shot because, in this context, shoes don't count; everybody knows that.

Actually, in the context of nude shots it’s probably more correct to say stilettos can be part of the construct of "the nude", the shoes having a long history as an element in such photo sessions, the connotation well-understood.  For that reason, the motif was the one addition to a “nude pin-up calendar” published in 2010 by EIZO Corporation (株式会社, EIZO Kabushiki-gaisha), a Japanese visual technology company which began in 1968 as a television manufacturer.  The name EIZO is an unaltered use of the Japanese 映像 (eizō) (image).  As electronics became progressively cheaper and more powerful there was a proliferation in the use of screens for many purposes and EIZO responded by diversifying into products such as arcade game hardware, computer monitors, VCRs (video cassette recorders) and cassette players.  In 2002, a range of monitors for medical imaging was introduced and the novel calendar appeared to promote its radiological devices.

Eizo Pin-up calendar, 2010.

Advertising Agency: Butter, Berlin & Duesseldorf, Germany
Creative Director: Matthias Eickmeyer
Art Director: Nadine Schlichte
Illustrator/CGI: Carsten Mainz
Copywriter: Reinhard Henke

The theme of the calendar was a model scanned in twelve stereotypical “pin-up” poses, the young lady nude except for her stilettos with the images in the form of classic X-Ray film.  What that meant was the model was in a sense more naked than most nudes because all that was visible (except for the stilettos) was the skeleton and an adumbrated outline of the skin; like the more “artistic” pornography, much was achieved by having a viewer’s mind “fill in the gaps” as it were.  It attracted much interest but it soon was revealed no model was irradiated in the making of the calendar, the images all created with CGI (computer-generated imagery).  The concept came from Berlin-based creative agency Butter and in terms of brand-recognition was an outstanding success because before images of the calendar went viral, it’s doubtful many outside the Japanese electronics industry had heard of EIZO and their highly-regarded monitors.

What a stiletto imposes on the wearer’s “metatarsophalangeal joint between the metatarsal and proximal phalangeal bones” attracted some comment.  It seems a small price to pay for the pleasure men gain from seeing a foot in these classic shoes.

Being the internet, the images were of course deconstructed even before Butter revealed the truth.  Those well acquainted with medical imaging pointed out it was obvious they were digital composites because some things appeared as “white” when they should have been “black”, Miss July’s nipples apparently an obvious clue (for those with a trained eye) while others pointed out a “conspicuous absence of bowel gas and pulmonary vascularity.”  What the careful analysis of the images did proved was just how well-trained those eyes must be because (presumably) no radiologists have ever before had to assess subjects imaged in quite these positions.

Butter's “No model was harmed in the making of EIZO's calendar” explanation of the production process: (1) The wireframe skeleton (top left) and skin (top right), (2) Rendering the skeleton (middle left) and skin (middle right), (3) Combining and inverting the skin & skeleton renderings (bottom right) and (4) the final image after detail editing.   It was at stage (4) that, had a trained consultant been on hand, something like the color of Miss July's nipples would have been corrected but that seems a minor quibble about what was an imaginative project.

In high fashion, there has for some time been pressure on the industry (in Europe in some jurisdictions this has even assumed a legislative form) to move away from the use of untypically (even unusually) thin models on catwalks and in advertising in favor of those with bodies more representative of the population.  Although it's obvious this has resulted in something of a "quota-system" of "plus-sized" models, to date the industry has proved remarkably adept in keeping the catwalks and photo-shots "thin" and unattributed sources within the agencies have been quoted as saying they are still requested by the fashion houses and publications to supply the traditional shape with "just enough" of the larger types added (thrown-in, as it were).  So, in an era when the "please do not feed the models" meme cut a bit close to the bone, to reassure the internet their calendar had required no model to be exposed to a high-dose of radiation, Butter published pictures of the physical wireframes constructed for the CGI modelling; while that proved she was all pixels and there was no exploitation, a feminist critique would still detect the gratuitous objectification of the female form.  Still, neither agency or client could resist the tagline: “The EIZO Medical pin-up calendar – just like EIZO monitors – really does show every detail.”

Nude bras by Flora & Fauna (left) and Capeizo (right).

The concept of the “nude bra” was one of the unanticipated consequences of the emergence of DEI (diversity, equality & inclusion) as part of the West’s linguistic and cultural framework.  The beige bra has long been an industry staple and although the products are sometimes described as a “boring beige bra”, their usual qualities (comfortable, supportive and unobtrusive) made them an “everyday essential”.  However, the functional, if unexciting, garments tended once to be marketed as “skin-tone” which obviously was intrinsically exclusionary because it implied skin was “beige” and thus one of the many examples of “white privilege”.  Accordingly, mostly the industry shifted to value-free descriptors such as beige, black, brown, green, grey, ivory, pink, purple, red, white etc.  The purpose of a nude bra is to be nearly imperceptible under clothing, achieved by the fabric as closely as possible matching the skin tone and the obvious implication is what is a nude bra for one might be quite the opposite for another.  Glamour has a a helpful on-line guide based on the idea of skin's undertones able to be classified as cool, warm, or neutral and notes that while in underwear "black" and "white" tend to be universal, colors like beige or brown are spectrums and there are variations, both between manufacturers and even within their ranges,  That's good because even within a construct like "black skin" or "white skin", there are variations so ideally the selection of a nude bra will involve a consumer comparing fabric with flesh.

Etching

Etching (pronounced ech-ing)

(1) The art, act or process of making designs or pictures on a metal plate, glass etc, by the corrosive action of an acid instead of by a burin.

(2) An impression, as on paper, taken from an etched plate.

(3) The design so produced.

(4) A flat (usually metal) plate bearing such a design.

1625–1635: The construct was etch + -ing.  The verb etch was from the Dutch etsen (to engrave by eating away the surface of with acids), from the German ätzen (to etch), from the Old High German azzon (to cause to bite or feed), from the Proto-Germanic atjaną, causative of etaną (to eat), from the primitive Indo-European root ed- (to eat) (from these sources English gained “eat”).  The suffix –ing was from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing).  The “etching scribe” was a needle-sharp steel tool for incising into plates in etching and the production of dry points.  Etching is a noun & verb; the noun plural is etchings.

The noun was the present participle and gerund of etch (the verbal noun from the verb etch) and was used also in the sense of “the art of engraving”; by the 1760s, it was used also to mean “a print etc, made from an etched plate" and the plates themselves.  The term etching (to cut into a surface with an acid or other corrosive substance in order to make a pattern) is most associated with the creation of printing plates for the production of artistic works but the technique was used also as a way to render decorative patterns on metal.  In modern use, it’s also a term used in the making of circuit boards.  In idiomatic use (often as “etched in the memory”), it’s used of events, ideas etc which are especially memorable (for reasons good and ill) and as a slang word meaning “to sketch; quickly to draw”.  The Etch A Sketch drawing toy was introduced 1960 by Ohio Art Company; a kind of miniature plotter, it was a screen with two knobs which moved a stylus horizontally & vertically, displacing an aluminum powder to produce solid lines.  To delete the creation, the user physically shook the device which returned the powder to its original position, blanking the screen.

Rembrandt's Jan Asselyn, Painter (1646) (left) and Faust (circa 1652).  Rembrandt (Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669)) wasn’t the most prolific etcher but remains among the most famous and his output provides an illustrative case-study in the evolution of his mastering of the technique, his early work really quite diffident compared with his later boldness.

What came to be known as etching gained the name from the Germanic family of words meaning “eat & “to eat”, the transferred sense an allusion to the acid which literally would “eat the metal”.   Etching is an intaglio (from the Italian intagliare (to engrave)) technique in printmaking, a term which includes methods such as hard and soft ground etching, engraving, dry-point, mezzotint and aquatint, all of which use an ink transferring process.  In this, a design is etched into a plate, the ink added over the whole surface plate before a scrim (historically starched cheesecloth) is used to force the ink into the etched areas and remove any excess.  Subsequently, the plate (along with dampened paper) is run through a press at high pressure, forcing the paper into etched areas containing the ink.  The earliest known signed and dated etching was created by Swiss Renaissance goldsmith Urs Graf (circa 1485-circa 1525) in 1513 and it’s from those who worked with gold that almost all forms of engraving are ultimately derived.

Lindsay Lohan, 1998, rendered in the style of etchings.

A phrase which was so beloved by comedy writers in the early-mid twentieth century that it became a cliché was “Want to come up and see my etchings?”, a euphemism for seduction.  Probably now a “stranded phrase”, the saying was based on some fragments of text in a novel by Horatio Alger Jr (1832–1899), a US author regarded as the first to formalize as genre fiction the “rags-to-riches” stories which had since the early days of the republic been the essence of the “American Dream” although it wasn’t until the twentieth century the term came into common use (often it’s now used ironically).

The practice of making etchings, woodcuts or engravings of famous paintings became popular, both artistically and commercially (which may for this purpose be much the same thing) in the late sixteenth century and developed over the next 250-odd years, an evolution tied closely to technological progress in printmaking and the materials available to artists.  The trend seems to have been accelerated by the spread in northern Europe (notably certain districts in Antwerp, Rome and Paris) of copperplate etching & engraving and while it may be dubious to draw conclusions from the works which have survived, the artists most re-produced clearly included Titian (Tiziano Vecellio, circa 1490-1576), Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, 1483–1520) and Michelangelo (Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni; 1475–1564), the most prolific in the business of reproductive engraving including the Dutch specialist Cornelis Cort (circa 1533–circa 1578 and known in Italy where he spent his final years as Cornelio Fiammingo) and the Flemish Sadeler family, scions of which operated in many European cities.

Melencolia I (Melancholy I (1514)), etching by the German painter & printmaker Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528).

By the seventeenth century, the practice was well established and an entrenched part of the art market, fulfilling some of the functions which would later be absorbed by photography and Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), among others, employed in his studio engravers whose task was to reproduce his paintings for sale with those etchings available in a variety of sizes (and thus price-points so there’s little which is new in the structures of the modern art market).  Again, in the eighteenth century, technological determinism interplayed with public taste as techniques were refined to adapt the works to what wasn’t exactly a production line but certainly an arrangement which made possible larger and more rapid volumes with printing houses commissioning runs (which could be in the hundreds) of engravings following (faithfully and not) British and Continental paintings, advances in mezzotint meaning a greater tonal range had become possible, mimicking the light and shade of oil paintings.  In genteel homes, various institutions and even museums, it was entirely respectable to have hanging: “prints after the Old Masters”.

But as technology giveth, so can it taketh away and it was the late eighteenth century invention of lithography and, a few decades later photography, which triggered a decline in demand, the constantly improving quality of the new mediums gradually displacing reproductive etching in the marketplace although the tradition didn’t die as artists such as Francisco Goya (1746–1828), Eugène Delacroix (1798–1863) and Édouard Manet (1832–1883) maintained (or, in a sense, “revived”) etching as a creative rather than reproductive discipline and historians regards the early-mid nineteenth century as the era in which etching became a legitimate genre in art and not merely a means cheaply of distributing representations of existing works.

Self portrait: reflection (1996), etching by Lucian Freud (1922–2011).

Under modern copyright law, as a general principle, the selling of etchings of works still in copyright is not lawful without the permission from the holder of the rights and while details differ between jurisdictions, the basic rule of modern law (the Berne Convention, EU directives, national statutes) is that the sale (or even public display) of a reproduction or derivative work (the latter something which obviously follows without being an obvious duplicate of a copyrighted artwork) requires the consent of the copyright owner.  That protection tends in most jurisdictions to last 70 years after the death of the artist (the “life + 70” rule) and what matters is not that a reproduction is new (in the sense of the physical object) but that it is derivative because (1) to a high degree it emulates the composition, form(s), and expression of the original and (2) in appearance it to a high degree resembles a pre-existing, protected work.  Thus, if produced and offered for sale without permission, the object will infringe on the rights of whoever holds exclusive or delegated rights of reproduction or adaptation.  With exact or close replicas it’s not difficult for court to determine whether rights have been violated but at the margins, such as where works are “in the style of”, of “influenced by”, judgments are made on a case-by-case basis, the best publicized in recent years being those involving pop music.

The Lovers (circa 1528), etching by Parmigianino (Girolamo Francesco Maria Mazzola, 1503-1540) of the Italian Mannerist school.

All that means is one (usually) can sell reproductions of works by those dead for at least 70 years and even works “in their style” as long as there’s no attempt to misrepresent them as the product of their original artist’s hand.  There are in copyright exceptions such as “fair dealing” & “fair use” but their range is narrow and limited to fields such as criticism, review, education or satire and does not extend to normal commercial transactions.  Additionally, there’s a work-around in that if something is found to have been sufficiently “transformed”, it can be regarded as a new work but this exception tightly is policed and the threshold high.  Additionally, in recent years, as museums and galleries have put content on-line, what has emerged is the additional complication of such an institution hanging on its walls paintings long out of copyright yet asserting copyright on its commissioned photographs of those works.  That development must have delighted lawyers working in the lucrative field but the courts came to read-down the scope, most following the principles explained in an action before the US Federal District Court (Bridgeman Art Library v. Corel Corp., 36 F. Supp. 2d 191 (S.D.N.Y. 1999), which held (1) copyright in a photograph can in many cases exist but, (2) if a photograph is a “purely mechanical copy of a public-domain work” there usually no protection, even if the taking of the image required technical skill in lighting, angle selection and such.

Morphinomanes (Morphine Addicts, 1887), etching and and drypoint by French artist Albert Besnard (1849–1934).

There was still something for the lawyers because inherently there remained two separate layers of rights at play: (1) copyright (intellectual property) which belongs usually to the artist or their estate and (2) the property rights (ownership of the physical object) which are held by whomever may possess lawful title to the object (this may align with possession but not of necessity).  In other words a museum will likely own the paint & canvas yet not the copyright, something analogous with the discovery made by the few diligent souls who troubled themselves to read the small print they’d agreed to when installing software: in most cases one had lawful title to the physical media (diskette, CD, DVD etc) but often nothing more than a revocable licence to use a single instance of the software. It’s possible lawfully to produce and sell etchings of Goya (the artist having had the decency to drop dead more than 70 years ago) but one may not without permission reproduce or trace from a museum’s copyrighted photo of a Goya (and institutions sometimes maintain separate conditions of use for low and high-resolution images).  Even if one paints, draws or etches by hand, depending on this and that, a court can still hold there’s been a “substantial reproduction” of the composition, colour and such has been effected and thus there’s been an infringement of the underlying copyright.  So, the rules in this area are (1) proceed with caution if producing art not wholly original and (2) if a young lady is asked: “Want to come up and see my etchings?”, she should proceed with caution.