Sanpaku

Sanpaku (pronounced san-pach-ew)

An eye in which the sclera (white of the eye) is visible on three sides of the iris rather than the usual two (left & right).

Pre 1700s: A borrowing from the Japanese 三白 (sanpaku) (three whites) or 三白眼 (sanpaku gan) (three-white eyes).  Sanpaku is a noun and sanpakuish is an adjective; the noun plural is sanpakus.

Sanpaku (三白) (three whites) & Sanpaku gan (三白眼) (three-white eyes) are Japanese terms from traditional Chinese & Japanese medicine and they describe the “condition” in which the white of the eye is visible either above or below the iris when looking straight ahead.  Although the word was popularized by Japanese educator and nutritionist Nyoichi “George” Ohsawa (1893–1966) when he published the book You Are All Sanpaku in 1965, the idea had existed in oriental medicine probably for centuries although it’s impossible accurately to determine its origin.  It was mentioned in the diaries of at least one nineteenth century US Navy physician but attracted no interest in the West until the release of Ohsawa san’s book.  In Western medicine the phenomenon is described as “lower scleral show” or “inferior scleral show”, terms which are merely descriptive because (1) it’s something thought within the range of normality, (2) is indicative of no other mental or physical states and thus (3) is generally not considered a medical condition requiring treatment and is attributed variously to (3a) normal variation in eyelid anatomy, (3b) transient facial expression or gaze direction, (3c) traumatic injury or (3d) age-related tissue changes.  There are orbital or eyelid conditions (the best known being a thyroid-related eye disease causing lid retraction) which can induce a sanpaku-like appearance but instances are vanishingly rare.  In short, the medicalization of sanpaku is thought a product of superstition so predictably, on social media, sanpaku eyes seem to have a cult following.

Sydney Sweeney (b 1997) displaying her Sanpaku inferior (sclera (white of the eye) visible below the iris), Met Gala, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Manhattan, New York City, May 2025.  Lovely though her eyes are, it may be not many have long focused on them.

In You Are All Sanpaku, Ohsawa san described sanpaku as a condition which indicated physical and mental imbalances and discussed its significance in relation to diet and overall well-being.  Historically, sanpaku is believed to have entered oriental medicine from the Japanese practice of “face-reading” and those with eyes observed thus were considered ill-fated and destined for a life filled with misfortune, culminating often with an early demise.  It gained a following on social media by the usual means: celebrity association.  Diana, Princess of Wales, President John Kennedy & Marilyn Munroe, all of whom died young, were all sanpakus and as Ohsawa san warned in You Are All Sanpaku: the eyes indicate someone's fate, signifying imminent danger or an “early and tragic end.”

Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997, far left), Marilyn Monroe (1926–1962, centre left), Billie Eilish (b 2001. centre right) and John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963, far right).  Three died young in tragic circumstances but Ms Eilish remains fit and well.

The original basis of “face reading” isn’t known but as a diagnostic tool it focused on the matter of “balance”, something important also to the physicians of Antiquity who identified the “four humors”: flegmat (phlegm), sanguin (blood), coleric (yellow bile) & melanc (black bile) which were the causative agents of the four personality types, the phlegmatic, the sanguine, the choleric & the melancholic.  In the East, signs of sanpaku meant a man’s whole system (physical, physiological and spiritual) was out of balance, something caused by sins committed against the order of the universe, accounting for his sickness, unhappiness or insanity.  Ohsawa san noted that in the West, such folk had come to be called “accident prone” and they were the ones who should take note of the warning from sanpaku, nature’s tap on the shoulder.  A practical author of self-help texts, Ohsawa san recommended sanpaku eyes should be treated with a macrobiotic diet, focusing on brown rice and soybeans, something on which he had real expertise as the founder of the macrobiotic diet.

By their sanpaku you shall know them: Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945, left), crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013, centre) and cult-leader Charles Manson (1934-2017, right).

Interestingly, the beliefs about sanpaku are culturally variable although universally it’s held the condition determines one's fate.  In the Japanese tradition those consequences are ill fate and misfortune while the Chinese associate sanpaku with good luck and wealth and this divergence has interested cultural anthropologists who study the symbolism and mythologies of different societies.  The tradition divides the eyes into "yin sanpaku" and "yang sanpaku", the roots of this the ancient Chinese concept of yin & yang, representing the duality of opposing yet complementary forces in the universe.  Yin and Yang are fundamental concepts in Chinese philosophy and represent complementary and interconnected aspects of the universe. Yin is associated with qualities such as darkness, femininity, passivity, and coldness, while Yang is associated with light, masculinity, activity, and warmth. They’re seen as opposing forces that are in a constant state of dynamic balance and they exist within all phenomena, including human physiology, nature and society.  In this they differ from the (wholly un-related) concept in particle physics of matter and anti-matter.  Matter is the familiar stuff which is much of the physical universe (particles such as protons, neutrons, and electrons) while anti-matter consists of particles with the same mass as their matter counterparts but carrying an opposite charges.  When matter and anti-matter particles come into contact, they can annihilate each other, releasing energy.  Ying and Yang, mutually dependent, live in peaceful co-existence.

The Mean Girls (2004) crew demonstrate the range:  Rachel McAdams (b 1978, far left) & Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, centre-left) are in the part of the population who are either not sanpakus or the effect is imperceptible.  Lacey Chabert (b 1982, centre-right) is in the group with a separation around 1 mm while Amanda Seyfried (b 1985, far right) displays up to 2 mm depending on her expression.

A quadrilateral meeting to discuss German war guilt reparations and allied debts accumulated during World War I (1914-1918): Raymond Poincaré (1860–1934; President of France 1913-1920, far left), Andrew Bonar Law (1858–1923; Prime Minister of the United Kingdom 1922-1923, centre-left), Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943, centre right) and Georges Theunis (1873–1966; Prime Minister of Belgium 1921-1925 & 1934-1935, far right), 10 Downing Street, London, December 1922.

Before it became a meme, this was an obscure photograph which until the twenty-first century had appeared only in some specialist history texts but as the internet achieved critical mass, memes became a thing and Mussolini’s sanpaku eyes were a gift for the meme-makers, most captions suggesting the Duce may have had a sudden premonition of his own unfortunate end although others offered: “I feel naked without a moustache”, “I think I have imposter syndrome”, “Oh God, I just pooped my pants”, “I know one of these men is a Freemason but I don't know which” and “I wonder if they can tell I've smoked some weed”.  However, although not noted as a mystic, he may have sensed another's impending death, “sitteth at the right hand”, Andrew Bonar Law then having only months to live.

Princess Beatrice, Mrs Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi (b 1988).  Until she appeared at a royal wedding in the fascinator she made famous (some humorless souls would have said infamous), she was most noted for her lovely sanpaku eyes.

In Japanese face reading, yang sanpaku eyes (white part visible above the iris) reveal a person's dark and sinister nature, the eyes indicating the unstable mental state suffered by individuals exhibiting uncontrollable aggression, such as psychopathic murderers or serial killers.  Yin Sanpaku Eyes (sclera visible below the iris) signify a different physical or mental imbalance, one caused by the abuse of drugs, alcohol, and sugar which disrupt the body's equilibrium.  Although discouraged by all in the profession except the odd, entrepreneurial cosmetic surgeon, treatment options are available to “correct” scleral show and the most effect treatment is aesthetic plastic surgery, specifically the procedure called blepharoplasty, which can correct the appearance of the eyes.  The construct of blepharoplasty was blepharo- +‎ -plasty.  Blepharo- was from the New Latin, from the Ancient Greek βλέφαρον (blépharon) (eyelid; a feature resembling an eyelid) and -plasty was from the Ancient Greek πλαστός (plastós) (molded, formed) which now has the special meaning in medicine meaning "repair, restoration or re-shaping of part of the body with a surgical procedure".

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC, b 1989, US Representative (Democrat-New York) since 2019 and one of "the squad") displaying her Sanpaku superior (sclera visible above the iris).  Some other of her body parts are also well-documented.

Casual observation suggests sanpaku eyes are far from rare and there are said to be three classes: (1) those with at least a .25 mm (.0098 inch) space between the iris and the upper and lower eyelids, (2) those with a separation of 1 (.0394 inch) mm and (3) those with a gap of 2 mm (.0787 inch) or more.  The concition need not manifest as something symmetrical (in the vertical axis), the two elements being (1) Sanpaku inferior: white visible below the iris and (2) Sanpaku superior: white visible above the iris, the latter said often induced when a subject is frightened or physiologically stressed).  However although “estimates” have been published, neither the prevalence of the condition nor the distribution within the three (unofficial) groups have ever been the subject of a reputable epidemiological study; because “sanpaku eyes” is not a recognised medical or anthropometric category; funding would thus be hard to secure although, as a purely observational and statistical exercise, presumably not many ethics departments would much be troubled.  So, lacking a defined diagnostic entry, there is no standardised measurement threshold and estimates of prevalence are thus almost certainly speculative and thus unreliable.  Those with sanpaku eyes should not too much dwell on the numbers and instead flutter their eyelashes and enjoy the admiring glances.

Mean Girls four-way phone call: Eye-rolls (Amanda Seyfried, top right) don't count, a sanpaku defined only by separation maintained when looking ahead or to the side.

Humans are not the only species with a sclera but we are untypical in it being so visible.  That humans even have white scleras has interested linguistic anthropologists, evolutionary biologists and other researchers, some offering the Cooperative Eye Hypothesis which suggested the distinctive appearance evolved as a mechanism with non-verbal communication could be enhanced.  According to this conjecture, the high visibility of the iris & pupil against the white background allows an interlocutor more easily to track eye movements, helping individuals to understand where others are looking during interactions.  Observational studies revealed the way humans and other great apes move their heads and eyes in different ways, humans relying more on eye movements than head movements to see where someone else is looking.  Apes, without the white component in their eyes, tend more to move the whole head.  Not all support the "cooperative eye" faction but it’s an interesting approach to understanding the evolutionary significance of the human eye's appearance and the sophistication of communication is certainly a noted difference between humans and apes.

Seeing the whites of the eye: a gree-eyed cormorant taking lunch.

The phrase “don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes” comes of the military and was an instruction to infantry in the age of the musket to delay firing until the target was within close range, the rationale being (1) accuracy would be enhanced and (2) the projectile (musket ball) would strike with greater energy, thus increasing the effectiveness (measured in the casualty & death rates).  It’s often attributed to Colonel William Prescott (1726–1795) shouting it to his troops at the Battle of Bunker Hill (1775) during the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783) but according to Phrase Finder, the origins lie at least 32 years earlier.  On 27 Jun, 1743, during the Battle of Dettingen (fought in Bavaria as one of the "footnote engagements" of the War of the Austrian Succession (1740-1748)), the resourceful Scot Lieutenant-Colonel (later Lieutenant General) Sir Andrew Agnew of Lochnaw (1867-1761) 5th Baronet) departed from military orthodoxy when, responding to a French cavalry charge, adopted a novel tactic he’d devised, keeping his men not in the conventional square formation to meet the charge head on but having the two centre companies divide from the centre, falling back from the outer markers, thereby compelling the French to gallop through a withering crossfire.  It was potentially a high-risk strategy but he’d trained his troops well the French cavalrymen obediently threaded the needle, suffering heavy losses.  Tacitly acknowledging the danger presented by his innovation, Sir Andrew’s succinct instruction to his brigade had been: “Dinna fire till ye can see the whites of their e' en . . . if ye dinna kill them they'll kill you.”

If the human eye lacked a white sclera it would mean the “messaging” in facial expressions (a non-verbal clue in communication) would have evolved a little differently; Paris Hilton (b 1981) illustrates (digitally altered image).  Ms Hilton has brown eyes but often wears blue contact lens.

As far as is known, all living creatures on Earth came ultimately from a single event which can be said to be the origin of life because at this time, there is no evidence of other living things anywhere in the universe.  Everything else is speculative; life may have started (or arrived) here many other times but for whatever reason not thrived and around the universe there may be many forms of life; some may be more advanced than us or we may be unique in our scientific and technological mastery.  The single point of origin is why we share elements of DNA (Deoxyribonucleic acid, the so-called “building-blocks of life”) with our cats, dogs, goldfish and bananas so, unsurprisingly, in living creatures, eyes are common, often in pairs but unlike those in humans, not all are out-growths of a brain although, in many of the lineages of the Metazoa they are neurally derived and remain tightly integrated with the central nervous system.

A nice pair of boobies.  Charmingly, blue-footed boobies are known to be monogamous, pairs often staying together for life.  Like us, birds are two eyed vertebrates although except for the old outlier (like owls) their eyes, for good reasons, shifted to the sides.  Note how the booby’s eye differs from that of a human.

As a general principle it all depended on the developmental origin and phylogeny (the evolutionary history of groups of organisms).  In vertebrates (mammals, birds, fish etc), the eye evolved as an evagination (a growth outward) of the forebrain during embryogenesis (the process by which an embryo is formed and develops).  Cephalopods (octopus, squid etc) differ in that while the optic lobes of the brain are large and closely connected, the eye is not literally a brain protrusion; thus, while neurally integrated, the eyes are not brain outgrowths.  Arthropods (insects, crustaceans and such) have compound eyes formed from ectodermal (of the The outermost of the three tissue layers in the embryo of a metazoan animal) tissues which connect to the brain via optic nerves and are thus also neurally connected but not developmental extensions of the brain itself.  Many cnidarians (such as the box jellyfish) possess complex lens eyes but lack a centralized brain, their eyes peripheral sensory structures connecting to nerve rings rather than a true brain.  Many invertebrates have relatively simple photoreceptors which can be thought of as “eyespots” which can be distributed across body tissues, the best contemporary comparison probably the sensors now so ubiquitous in electronic devices.

Boobies, one step at a time.

A booby is a seabird in the genus Sula, part of the Sulidae family.  Boobies are closely related to the gannets (Morus), which were formerly included in Sula, the genus created in 1760 by the French naturalist Mathurin Jacques Brisson (1723-1806).  The name was derived from súla, the Old Norse and Icelandic word for the other member of the family Sulidae, the gannet.  The English name booby was based on the Spanish bobo (stupid) as the tame birds often landed on board sailing ships, where they were easily captured and eaten.  As well as a popular addition to the diet of sailors for whom meat other than fish was a rarity, it was fortuitous for many, the Admiralty's archives revealing boobies often mentioned as having been caught and eaten by shipwrecked sailors.

Mr Andrew Mountbatten Windsor in police car, under arrest, February, 2026.

If humans had eyes free of a white sclera (like the booby and many birds), our appearance would be quite different, illustrated by a digitally edited image of (the former prince/duke/admiral etc) Andrew-Mountbatten Windsor (b 1960), rendered as a cartoon by Vovsoft.  However, the use of that image to demonstrate the point may not have been the best choice because, in the original, his expression didn’t appear greatly different.

As well as charming eyes, boobies also have interesting feet.  The distinctive blue feet (the result of pigments ingested from their diet of fish) also play a part in the bobby’s mating ritual although not exactly in the podophilic sense familiar in a sub-set of humans.  In the spring mating season, the bird’s feet become a bright turquoise blue and, to demonstrate their health and vitality, conspicuously they will display them to potential partners.  The job done, as their eggs hatch, the blue hue fades to something less vivid.  One aspect of their behaviour which amused the ornithologists who first observed it was that if among fishers unloading their catch, it tossed a small fish from the by-catch, a booby will take it and waddle off somewhere to enjoy it in solitude rather than gulping it down as in common in many species.  Like penguins, although ungainly on land, they are skilled plunge divers which used their streamlined bodies and air sacs “fly” through the water, catching their prey at high speed and they hunt in "packs", coordinating their movement to maximize the catch.  Boobies have been recorded diving from as high as 90 m (300 feet), their speed upon entry estimated at around 100 km/h (60 mph).

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.  

Ultracrepidarian

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue Poles, upside down.

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

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

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

Portrait of Dora Maar (1937), oil on canvas by Pablo Picasso, Musée Picasso, Paris, France.  The image to the right, still recognizably a human figure, obviously is “upside down”.  

One of the early surrealists, Dora Maar (Henriette Theodora Markovitch, 1907–1997) was associated with the artists in the inter-war years opposed to fascism; her relationship with Picasso would last a decade and produce a number of portraits but her attitude to them was ambivalent.  Still, as Picasso's best remembered muse, she gained a kind of immortality.

Although there’s a tendency to divide art into the “abstract” and “realistic”, both categories encompass wide variations and probably the only truly useful binary is between “photo-realism” (ie close to indistinguishable from a HD (high definition) photograph and everything else.  The cubists, futurists and impressionists definitely were abstract artists but their works often could be recognized as distortions of reality (the straddling orphists a bit of a “gray area”) while the nature of the subject was unambiguous.  By contrast, Action Painting (the “drippers” and beyond), Color Field Painting, Geometric Abstraction, Expressionism, Neo-plasticism, Informalism, Op Art and such often wholly was disconnected from anything immediately recognizable as being physical reality and a useful test is compare depictions on the works side-by-side, one hung as the artist intended, the other “upside down”.  Ultracrepidarians and others can then be asked to judge which is which and it’d be interesting to see if professionals are any more accurate than amateurs.  Unfortunately, AI (artificial intelligence) can’t be used as a sort of “control” if well-known works are part of the test because in digitized form their “correct” aspect would be “known” to the bots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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