Dimensionality

Dimensionality (pronounced dih-men-shuhn-nal-i-tee or dahy-men-shuhn-nal-i-tee).

(1) The state or characteristic of possessing dimensions.

(2) In mathematics, engineering, computing, physics etc, the number of dimensions possessed or attributed to an object, space or concept; the nature of the dimensions, considered, in relation to each other or the external world.

(3) In architecture (usually in criticism or theory), as super-dimensionality, micro-dimensionality, complimentary-dimensionality et al, an expression used to critique the scale of designs.

Circa 1910:  A coining of mathematicians said to date from the early twentieth century (though actual use may pre-date this), the construct was dimension +‎ -ality.  Dimension was from late fourteenth century late Middle English dimensioun, from the Anglo-French, from the Latin dīmēnsiōn-, from dīmēnsiō & dīmēnsiōnem, from dīmensus (measuring, measurement, dimension), perfect active participle of dīmētior (measured, regular), the construct being dis- (part’ separate; render asunder) +‎ mētior (measure or estimate; distribute or mete out; traverse), from the Proto-Italic mētis, from the primitive Indo-European meh- (to measure).  The suffix –ality was a compound affix, the construct being -al + -ity and equivalent to the French -alité and the Latin -ālitās.  The -al suffix was from the Middle English -al, from the Latin adjectival suffix -ālis, or the French, Middle French and Old French –el & -al.  It was use to denote the sense "of or pertaining to", an adjectival suffix appended (most often to nouns) originally most frequently to words of Latin origin, but since used variously and also was used to form nouns, especially of verbal action.  The alternative form in English remains -ual (-all being obsolete).  The –ity suffix was from the French -ité, from the Middle French -ité, from the Old French –ete & -eteit (-ity), from the Latin -itātem, from -itās, from the primitive Indo-European suffix –it.  It was cognate with the Gothic –iþa (-th), the Old High German -ida (-th) and the Old English -þo, -þu & -þ (-th).  It was used to form nouns from adjectives (especially abstract nouns), thus most often associated with nouns referring to the state, property, or quality of conforming to the adjective's description.  The derived forms from mathematics and other disciplines (extradimentionality et al) are sometimes hyphenated (extra-dimentionality et al).  Dimensionality is a noun; the noun plural is dimensionalities.

Being inherently a thing of numbers, in both pure and applied mathematics, dimensionality matters.  There is equidimensionality which, strictly speaking in the quality enjoyed by two (or more) dimensions exactly the same but the term has also been used in architecture as (1) a fancy way to say that things are (by mathematical standards) “roughly the same” and (2) a synonym for symmetrical.  Nobody seems to have come up with “hetrodimensionality” or something like that, asymmetrical apparently adequate.  In psychiatry, unidimensionality is the quality of measuring a single construct, trait, or other attribute; it's a clinical tool, an example of which is a unidimensional personality scale which would contain items related only to the respective concept of interest.  It's not the same as the pop-psychology term "one-dimensional" which is an allusion to functional, intellectual, emotional etc limitations in individuals or institutions.  A particular use of that appeared in the book One-Dimensional Man (1964) by German-American philosopher Herbert Marcuse (1898–1979).  Marcuse argued modern capitalism had reduced culture to a technological rationality and individuals to mere economic units, their value measured only by their industrial productivity.  Moreover, the genius of this system was that the false consciousness of the victims was manipulated to the point they became defenders of their own oppression.

Superdimensionality on the beach: A gigantic Lindsay Lohan.

Nondimensionality refers to quantity or measurement with no physical units attached, often represented as a ratio of two quantities that have the same units, such as the ratio of the diameter of a circle to its circumference (which is represented by the nondimensional quantity π, or pi).  It’s not quite a revenge on the physicists who have identified certain particles with dimensions yet no mass, nondimensionality being useful in that relationships between different physical quantities can be expressed without the need to have specific units of measure.  Unidimensionality (the opposite of multidimensionality) refers to a measurement or quantity involving only one dimension or aspect; it is used not to imply there is only one dimension but in situations where the critical quality can be described using a single variable or dimension.  The classic examples of unidimensionality are the three dimensions length, width & breadth.  Multidimensionality involves two or more dimensions.  The companion terms “curse of dimensionality” and “blessing of dimensionality” are both commentaries of the volume of data available but reference not the data but the processes applied to the information.  The curse of dimensionality is that in some cases there can be an unmanageable amount of data; there is simply too much information even to assess what should be discarded.  However, for other purposes, the same data set could be invaluable, the volume making possible what once was not, thus the blessing of dimensionality.

String theory: Lindsay Lohan in string bikini, Mykonos, Greece, 2014.

Extradimensionality underlies string theory, a (highly) theoretical construct which has provided a number of speculative frameworks in an attempt to unify what are still considered the fundamental forces at work in the universe (gravity, electromagnetism, and the strong and weak nuclear forces).  The essence of string theory in that the fabric of the universe is composed not of point-like particles in space but very small, one-dimensional forms (the nature of which varies according to the version of the theory) which act like “strings”, vibrating at different frequencies.  The strings are said to exist in another dimensional space-time than the four with which we are familiar (length, width, depth & time) and some string theorists have suggested there may be ten or more dimensions.  The most significant aspect of the behavior of the strings is said to be their interaction with both the space in which they exist and other strings in other spaces (although on the latter point some theorists differ).  The intricate equations describing the strings and their dimensions has allowed very complex models to be built and from these, the handful of people of the planet who understand both the mathematics and their implications have drawn a number of inferences about the universe said variously to be “fascinating”, “speculative” and “nonsensical” and one of the delights of string theory is that it can be neither proved nor disproved.  Word nerds however can be grateful to the stringers because they adopted “compactified”, the word describing the way the dimensions beyond the verifiable four are curled up (or scrunched) at scales so small they remain unobservable with current technology.

Superdimentionality

Model of Germania, built to scale.

Superdimentionality is the application of exaggerated dimensions to designs, some of which actually get built.  It a popular motif for the kitsch structures favored by tourist attractions of which Australia has many (the big pineapple, big prawn, big golfball, big lobster, big gumboot et al) but for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), superdimentionality was the dominant concept for the entire Nazi empire; reichism writ large.  The idea was well documented in the plans for Germania, the re-building of Berlin designed by a team under Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), the centerpiece of which was the monumental Volkshalle (People's Hall), sometimes referred to as the Große Halle (Great Hall).  The hall would have seated 180,000 under a dome 16 times larger than that of St Peter's Basilica in the Vatican and in its vastness was a classic example of the representational architecture of the Third Reich.  Although it’s obvious the structure as a whole was intended to inspire awe, the details also conveyed the subliminal messaging of much fascist propaganda, fixtures like doorways sometimes four times the usual height, the disconnection from human scale emphasizing the supremacy of the state.

German conceptual H-45 battleship.

Hitler also thought the materiel supplied to his military machine should be big.  After being disappointed by proposals for the successors to the Bismarck-class ships to have the armament increased only from eight 15-inch (380 mm) to eight 16 inch (406 mm) canons, he ordered OKM (Oberkommando der Marine; Naval High Command) to design bigger ships.  Although none were ever built, Germany lacking the facilities even to lay down the keels, the largest (the H-44) would have had eight 20-inch (508 mm) cannons.  Even more to the Führer’s liking was the concept of the H-45, equipped with eight 31.5 inch (800 mm) Gustav siege guns but the experience of surface warfare at sea convinced Hitler the days of the big ships were over and he would even try to persuade the navy to retire all their capital ships and devote more resources to the submarines which, as late as 1945, he hoped might still prolong the war.  However, he never lost faith in the promise of bigger and bigger tanks, an opinion share by none of the tank commanders who were appalled at the designs of some of the monstrosities he ordered prepared.

Hitler’s study in the Reich Chancellery (1939) (left) and his (rarely used) big desk in the corner, the big doors behind (right)

Perhaps surprisingly, there’s no record Hitler ever complained the Mercedes-Benz built for his use were too small but then they were, even by the standards to which popes, presidents and potentates were accustomed, big.  Other heads of state weren’t so reticent and Charles De Gaulle (1890–1970; President of France 1958-1969), in 1965 aghast at the notion the state car of France might be bought from Germany or the US (it’s not known which idea he thought most appalling and apparently nobody bothered to suggest buying British) requested coachbuilder Henri Chapron (1886-1978) construct something with the necessary grandeur.  The legend is, Le General’s only stipulations about his enlarged Citroën DS were (1) it had to be longer than the stretched Lincoln Continentals then on the White House fleet (John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) assassinated in Continental X-100 modified by Hess and Eisenhardt) and (2) the turning circle had to be tight enough to enter the Elysée Palace’s courtyard from the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and then pull up at the steps in a single maneuver.

Size matters: Citroën DS Le Presidentielle (left) and LBJ era stretched Lincoln Continental by Lehmann-Peterson of Chicago (right).

Carrosserie Chapron managed to fulfil both requirements although the contrast between the Citroën’s rather agricultural 2.2 litre (133 cubic inch) four-cylinder engine the 430 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 in Lyndon Johnson’s (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1969-1969) Lincoln was remarkable, De Gaulle probably regarding the additional displacement as typical American vulgarity.  Chapron (apparently without great enthusiasm) began the build in 1965 and the project took three years; delivered just in time for the troubles of 1968, the slinky lines were much admired in the Élysée and in 1972, Chapron was given a contract to supply two really big four-door convertible (Le Presidentielle) SMs as the state limousines for Le Général’s successor, Georges Pompidou (1911–1974; President of France 1969-1974).  First used for 1972 state visit of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), they remained in regular service until the inauguration of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) in 1995, seen again on the Champs Elysees in 2004 during Her Majesty’s three-day state visit marking the centenary of the Entente Cordiale.

Mercedes-Benz 770K (W150), Berlin 1939.

Hitler though would have been impressed by the big V8 although he would doubtless have pointed out the 7.7 litre (468 cubic inch) straight-8 in his Mercedes-Benz 770K was not only bigger but also supercharged and he’d have found nothing vulgar in any of the American machine’s dimensions.  The 770Ks used by the Führer were produced in two series (W07 (1930-1939) & W150 (1939-1943)) of what the factory called the Grosser Mercedes (the Grand Mercedes) and while the earlier cars were available to anyone with the money (seven between 1932-1935 purchased by the Japanese Imperial household for the emperor’s fleet and adorned with the family’s gold chrysanthemum), the W150s were made exclusively for the upper echelons of the Nazi Party although to smooth the path of foreign policy, some did end up in foreign hands such as António Salazar (1889–1970) dictator of Portugal 1932-1968), Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975) & Field Marshal Mannerheim (commander-in-chief of Finnish defense force 1939–1945 and president of Finland (1944–1946).  Though large and impressive, by 1938 the W07 was something of a engineering relic and although the demands of the military were paramount in the economy, resources were found to update the Grosser to the technical level of the more modern 540K by adopting a lower tubular chassis with revised suspension (the de Dion axle at the rear something which should have appeared on the post-war cars) and a new, five-speed, all synchromesh gearbox.  Making the selection of first gear effortless was of some significance because so much of the 770K’s time was spent at crawling speed on parade duty but, despite the bulk (and the weight of the armored versions with 1¾ inch (45 mm) glass could exceed 5500 kg (12,000 lb), speeds in excess of 160 km/h (100 mph) could be achieved provided one had enough autobahn ahead although at that pace, even the 195 litre (52 US gallon, 43 Imperial gallon) fuel tank would soon have been drained.  Some sources also claim five were built with two superchargers, raising the top speed to 190 km/h (118 mph) but the tale may be apocryphal.

Mercedes-Benz G4 during Hitler’s entry in Vienna following the Anschluss (the absorption of Austral into the Reich), 14 March 1938.  The statue in the background is of the Archduke Charles Louis John Joseph Laurentius of Austria, Duke of Teschen (1771–1847) and often referred to as “Archduke Karl”, mounted on the Heldenplatz.

Also appealing to Hitler was the big, three-axle G4 (W31).  The factory developed six-wheel (and ten-wheel for those with dual rear wheels) cross-country vehicles for military use during the 1920s but after testing a number of the prototype G1s, the army declined to place an order, finding them too big, too expensive and too heavy for their intended purpose.  Hitler however, as drawn to big, impressive machines as he was to huge, representational architecture, ordered them adopted as parade vehicles and the army soon acquired a fleet of the updated G4, used eventually not only on ceremonial occasions but also as staff and command vehicles, several known to have been specially configured, some as baggage cars and at least one as a mobile communications centre, packed with radio-telephony.  Eventually, between 1934-1939, fifty-seven were built, originally exclusively for the OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (Armed Forces High Command)) and OKH (Oberkommando des Heeres (Army High Command)) but one was gift from Hitler to Franco and the Spanish G4, one of few which still exists, was restored and remains in the royal garage in Madrid.  According to factory records, all were built with 5.0, 5.3 & 5.4 litre straight-eight engines but there is an unverified report of interview with Hitler’s long-time chauffeur, Erich Kempka (1910-1975), suggesting one for the Führer’s exclusive use was built with the 7.7 litre straight-eight used in the 770K Grosser.  Most of the 770s were supercharged so, if true, it's a tantalizing prospect but this story is widely thought apocryphal, no evidence of such a one-off ever having been sighted.

Swagger

Swagger (pronounced swag-er)

(1) A manner, conduct, or gait thought an ostentatious display of arrogance and conceit.

(2) To walk or strut with a defiant or insolent air.

(3) To boast or brag noisily.

(4) To bring, drive, force, etc by means of bluster (now rare).

(5) Elegantly fashionable and confident (listed by some dictionaries as “rare” but in UK use it remains understood as a way of differentiating from “arrogant” and appears often in the form “a certain swagger” on the model of a phrase like “a certain grandeur”).

(6) In historic Australian (mostly rural) slang, an alternative name for a “swagman” or “swaggie” (an itinerant worker who carried a swag (a kind of roll-up bed) (archaic).  Swagman remains familiar in Australia because of the opening line of the bush ballad Waltzing Matilda: “Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong”.

1580–1590: The construct was swag + -er and it was a frequentative form of swag (in the sense of “to sway”), an early use of which appears in William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) A Midsummer Night's Dream (1595): “What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here?” (Puck in Act III, Scene 1) and it appears also in Henry IV, Part 2 (circa 1598) & King Lear (circa1605).  The verb swag (in the Shakespearian sense of “to strut in a defiant or insolent manner” (which then could also mean “a gait with a sway or lurch”) was from the Middle English swaggen, swagen & swoggen, probably from the Old Norse sveggja (to swing, sway) and may be compared with the dialectal Norwegian svaga (to sway, swing, stagger).  The meaning “to boast or brag” was in use by the 1590s to describe the antics of the concurrent agent-noun swaggerer (blusterer; bully; boastful, noisy fellow), the noun appearing in the early eighteenth century in the sense of “an insolent strut; a piece of bluster; a boastful manner”.  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb.   The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun.  Swagger is a noun & verb, swaggerer is a noun, swaggering is an adjective and swaggeringly is an adverb; the noun plural is swaggers.  The verb (used with object) out-swagger was used as a kind of “loaded” superlative, suggesting someone’s swagger had been “topped” by that of another.

Swaggering: Lindsay Lohan in swagger coat, New York City, March 2024.

A swagger coat was a (usually) calf-length overcoat with a distinctive cut which flared out below the knee.  They became fashionable in the early decades of the twentieth century, the wide, roomy silhouette, often without a belt, allowing for a “swaggering” or flowing appearance when worn.  The relaxed fit lent the garment a casual elegance and they often were worn, cloak-like, cast over the shoulders.  Swagger coats were commonly made from heavier fabrics like wool or tweed, making them ideal for outerwear in cooler weather and their air of “quiet sophistication” has made them a timeless classic.  A swagger stick was a short stick carried by a military officer as a symbol of authority but should not be confused with a field-marshal’s baton which was a symbol of the highest military rank.  Swagger sticks were shorter than a walking-cane, tended to be made from rattan or bamboo and adorned with a polished metal tip or cap.  A symbol rather than a practical tool, they are still seen during formal parades or other ceremonial events.  A “swagger-jack” was someone who copied or imitated the actions, sayings or personal habits of another.  The word “swagger” often carries a negative connotation but there’s a long tradition in the UK of it being used to distinguish for someone thought “arrogant”.  When one reviewer wrote of the Rolling Stones album Beggars Banquet (1968) as being the band “at their most swaggeringly debauched”, he really was giving them a compliment.  Much can context influence meaning.

The Swagger Portrait

A swagger portrait is a grand, usually large and often ostentatious portrait, typically commissioned by wealthy or influential individuals to display their status, power and prestige.  The term came into use in the late nineteenth century at the height of the British Empire when countless generals, admirals, politicians, governors, viceroys and others less exalted (though perhaps more deserving) decided it was something they deserved.  The distinguishing characteristics were (1) an imposing dimensionality, larger than life renditions not uncommon, (2) elaborate staging and poses, (3) an attention to detail, something of significance to the subjects often were dripping with decorations or precious jewels which demanded to be captured with precision and (4) a certain grandeur, something at which some artists excelled.  An exemplar of the breed was John Singer Sargent (1856-1925).

Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903; left), oil on canvas by Théobald Chartran (1849–1907) and Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903; right), oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US President 1901-1909), famous also for waging war and shooting wildlife, after being impressed by Théobald Chartran’s portrait of his wife, invited the French artist to paint him too.  He was so displeased with the result, which he thought made him look effete, he refused to hang the work and later supervised its destruction.  Roosevelt then turned instead to expatriate US artist John Singer Sargent.  The relationship didn’t start well as the two couldn’t agree on a setting and during one heated argument, the president suddenly, hand on hip, took on a defiant air while making a point and Sargent had his pose, imploring his subject not to move.  This one delighted Roosevelt and was hung in the White House.

Portrait of Madame X (1884), oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Manhattan.

A controversial work in its time, Madame X was Virginie Amélie Avegno Gautreau (née Avegno; 1859–1915) a banker's wife.  Unusually in the tradition of swagger portraits, Madam X was not a commission but undertaken on the painter's initiative and he understood the critics as well as he knew his subjects, knowing the juxtaposition of a black satin gown and porcelain-white skin would create a sensation.  However he understood the Parisian bourgeoisie less well and after being exhibited at the Paris Salon of 1884, the public reception was such that Singer was just about run out of town.  However, the painting made his reputation and it remains his best known work.

The Duke of Wellington (1812), oil on canvas by Francisco Goya (1812-1814), The National Gallery, London.

Arthur Wellesley (1769-1852; First Duke of Wellington was a British military hero and a less successful Tory politician although he remains remembered as a classic “Ultra”, a calling which is a hallmark of twenty-first century ideology.  Goya’s work is a typical military swagger portrait and it was for his battlefield exploits rather than in parliament which saw him granted the rare distinction of a state funeral.

Portrait of Empress Eugénie (1854), oil on canvas by Franz Xaver Winterhalter (1805-1873), Metropolitan Museum of Art, Manhattan.

The Empress Eugénie (Eugénie de Montijo, 1826–1920, Condesa de Teba) was the wife of Napoleon III (Charles-Louis Napoléon Bonaparte, 1808–1873; first president of France (1848-1852) and the last monarch as Emperor (1852-1870)) and it wasn't an easy gig for her so she deserved a swagger portrait more than many, Winterhalter painting several.  They have many the elements of the swagger portraiture of royalty, lavish fabrics, the subject in regal attire, as much an almost as much an installation as any of the sumptuous surrounds, the message conveyed one of status, power and beauty.

Dome

Dome (pronounced dohm)

(1) In architecture, a vault, having a circular plan and usually in the form of a portion of a sphere, so constructed as to exert an equal thrust in all directions.

(2) A domical roof or ceiling; a polygonal vault, ceiling, or roof.

(3) Any covering thought to resemble the hemispherical vault of a building or room; anything shaped like a hemisphere or inverted bowl.

(4) In water management, (usually in dam design), a semidome having its convex surface toward the impounded water.

(5) In crystallography, a form having planes that intersect the vertical axis and are parallel to one of the lateral axes.

(6) In geology, an upwarp (a broad anticline (a fold with strata sloping downwards on each side) caused by local uplift).

(7) In geology, a mountain peak having a rounded summit (a structure in which rock layers slope away in all directions from a central point).

(8) As vistadome, in passenger vehicles (usually railroad cars), a raised, glass-enclosed section of the roof of, placed over an elevated section of seats to afford passengers a full view of scenery (not usually truly in the hemispherical shape of a dome).

(9) In horology, the inner cover for the works of a watch which snaps into the rim of the case.

(10) A building; a house; an edifice (obsolete except as a literary device).

(11) As heat dome, a meteorological phenomenon in which the interplay of high & low pressure atmospheric systems interact to produce static, warm air over a large area.

(12) To cover with or as if with a dome; to shape like a dome.

(13) To rise or swell as a dome.

(14) In slang, a person's head (the form chrome dome used of the bald).

(15) In slang (both military and in some criminal classes), to shoot in the head (often in the form “got domed”).

(16) In African-American slang, to perform fellatio upon.

1505–1515: From the Middle French domme & dome (a town-house; a dome, a cupola) (which persists in modern French as dôme), from the Provençal doma, from the Italian duomo (cathedral), from the Medieval Latin domus (ecclesiae; literally “house (of the church)”), a calque of the Ancient Greek οἶκος τῆς ἐκκλησίας (oîkos tês ekklēsías).  Dome is a noun & verb, domed & doming are verbs and domelike, domical, domish & domesque are adjectives; the noun plural is domes.

By the 1650s, the formalized use in architecture ensured the meaning was (more or less) standardized as “a round, vaulted roof, a hemispherical covering of a building” and thus the ultimate specialized evolution from the Greek dōma (a house, housetop (used especially of those with a roof “in the eastern style”), from domos (house), from the primitive Indo-European root dem- (house, household).  The medieval use of the German dom and Italian duomo as verbal shorthand for “cathedral” (essentially a clipping from “house of God”) was picked up in the imperfect way so many words entered English to describe architectural features in the style of hemispherical cupolas, the domes at the intersection of the nave and the transept, or over the sanctuary, characteristic architectural feature of Italian cathedrals.  The sense in English of “a building, a house” had been borrowed in English as early as the 1510s and was used mostly of stately homes and it endures but only as a literary device and it’s rarely seen outside of poetry.

The shape occurs to one degree or another in nature and is common in man-made objects and the built environment so dome is an often seen modifier (cake dome, pleasure dome, lava dome; onion dome et al) and appears in the opening lines of one of the most cherished fragments of English verse: Kubla Khan (1797) by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834).

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

Some of the use has also been opportunistic and not especially domical.  Vistadomes were raised, glass-enclosed sections built into the roofs of railway carriages, placed over an elevated section of seats to afford passengers a better view of the scenery.  The idea was picked up by General Motors, the Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon (1964-1977), the Buick Roadmaster Estate (1991-1996) and the Scenicruiser busses (1954-1956 and made famous in the Greyhound livery some wore until the 1970s) all used raised, partially-windowed sections although none were officially described as “domes”.

The Hagia Sophia, now the main mosque in Istanbul; the minarets were added after the fall of Constantinople to the Ottoman Turks in 1453 and there are many architectural critics who maintain visually they improve the balance of the structure.  The illustration on the right shows how the Byzantine engineers used pendentives to make the construction of domes possible.     

Domes however are most associated with grand-scale, representational architecture (although quite a few builders of McMansions found them hard to resist).  One intriguing aspect of structural engineering upon which the integrity of a dome depends on what are called pendentives (the triangular segments of the lower part of a hemispherical dome left by the penetration of the dome by two semicircular vaults intersection at right angles).  Dating from 1727, pendentive was from the mid-sixteenth century French pendentif, from the Latin pendentem (nominative pendens) (hanging and the source of the English “pendulous”), the present participle of pendere (to hang) from the primitive Indo-European roots pen & spen- (to draw, stretch, spin).  What pendentives permit is the use of a circular dome over a square void square room or an elliptical one over something rectangular room.  Pendentives, (geometrically the triangular segments of a sphere), taper to points at the bottom and spread at the top to establish the continuous circular or elliptical base as required.  As structural supports, pendentives distribute the bulk of a dome’s weight to the four corners (the strongest points) and ultimately to the piers and the foundations below.  The classic example is the Hagia Sophia, the sixth century Byzantine cathedral at Constantinople (modern day Istanbul).  It was converted into a mosque when Constantinople fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1453 and, after a century-odd as a museum, is again a mosque.

Scale model of Germania.  Hitler would spend hours pondering the details but in 1945, he spent even longer looking at the model of what was planned for the Austrian city of Linz where he'd decided to have his tomb installed.

Domes have long been a favorite of emperors, dictators and those other megalomaniacs: architects.  A truly monumental one would have been the Volkshalle (People's Hall and known also as the Große Halle (Great Hall) & Ruhmeshalle (Hall of Glory), the centerpiece of Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) never realized plan to re-built Berlin as Germania, a worthy Welthauptstadt (world capital) of his “thousand year Reich”.  Although Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) was Germania’s chief architect, in some aspects he was really a glorified draftsman, correcting the technical errors in the drawings passed to him by the Führer who had be sketching parts of the design since the early 1920s.

Even by the standards of the super-dimensionality which was characteristic of the Third Reich, the domed hall would have been extraordinary.  The oculus would have been 46 m (151 feet) in diameter which would have accommodated the entire rotunda of Hadrian's Pantheon and the dome of St Peter's Basilica.  The  250 m (820 feet) diameter of the dome was (and this was a signature of Speer’s approach), bigger even than Hitler had requested and he was much displeased to learn of a rival architect’s plans for a dome 15 m (49 feet) greater in diameter to sit atop the city’s new railway station.  As things turned out, none of the grandiose structures were ever built and although a tinge of regret can be found in Speer’s post-war thoughts, even he admitted the designs were a failure because of “their lack of human scale”.

Berlin's rebuilt Reichstag with steel & glass dome.

Berlin did however eventually get a new dome, albeit it one rendered not in granite but the glass and steel the Führer thought was fine for factories and warehouses but which would have appalled him as a method of construction for public, representational architecture.  Plonked atop the rebuilt Reichstag, it was said to symbolize the reunification of Germany although quite how it managed that has never really been explained although the distinctive structure has become a city landmark and people seem to like it.  A clever design, it sits directly above the chamber of the Bundestag (the lower house of the bicameral federal parliament) and permits public observation, the clever design also reducing energy use by optimizing the input of natural light while moving shrouds minimize glare and heat-soak.

Cinerama Dome, Los Angeles in 1965, the year of its greatest commercial success.

The Cinerama Dome movie theatre sits on Hollywood’s Sunset Boulevard.  Opened in 1963, the Cinerama Dome introduced a new concept for film projection, a curved screen which sat inside a geodesic dome based on the design developed by US systems theorist & architect Richard Buckminster Fuller (1895–1983), one attraction of which was such things could be built at lower coast and in much less time than a conventional theatre building.  Intended to be the first of perhaps thousands around the planet, it was built in a still remarkable four months but it remains the only concrete geodesic on the planet and while it has operated intermittently since being closed during the COVID-19 pandemic, its future is uncertain and although it will probably be preserved as a historic building, it’s likely to be re-purposed as retail or restaurant space.

Lindsay Lohan at the Scary Movie V premiere, Cinerama Dome, April 2013.

The end of the line for Cinerama is another marker in the evolution of the technology which underpinned the evolution of the US economy from one based on agriculture, to one increasingly industrial to one geared around the military & entertainment.  In the 1950s, cinema’s greatest challenge came from television and the film studios fought back by creating differentiation in their products.  The venture into 3D proved a cul-de-sac for a number of reasons but one thing cinemas could do was make their big screens huge and during the 1950s the wide-screen Cinemascope enjoyed a boom.  However, there was a limit to how much screens could grow, hence the interest in Cinerama which projected onto a curved screen designed to take advantage of the way the human eye sees and processes images, the system at its best when provided by three synchronized projectors.  The idea lives on in the curved screens which have become popular among gaming freaks who enjoy the sense of “envelopment”.  It was also the era during which populations moved further from city centres into suburbs and thus, cinemas also needed to move, more of which (but often smaller) would be required.  Thus the attraction of the geodesic dome came which, largely pre-fabricated, was cheap to produce and quick to assemble.  However, Cinerama was expensive to film, to print, to produce and the sheer size and weight of the prints meant it was costly even to ship the material to venues and the conversion process to something which could be used with conventional projection.

Heat Domes

July 2023 Global heat map from the Climate Change Institute, University of Maine, USA.  For those unconvinced, Fox News continues to provide alternative facts.

The “heat dome” is a weather phenomenon, the physics of which has for decades been understood but of late the term has entered general use as much of the northern hemisphere has suffered from prolonged, unusually high temperatures, July 2023 measured as the hottest month ever recorded.  A heat dome occurs when a large, high-pressure system traps and concentrates hot air in a specific region, leading to prolonged and extremely high temperatures. Under a heat dome, the atmospheric pressure aloft prevents the hot air from rising and dissipating, effectively acting as a lid or cap over the area, thus the image of a dome sitting over the land.

The UK's Royal Meteorological Service's simple illustration of the physics of a heat dome.  Heat domes are also their own feedback loop.  A static areas of high pressure which already contains warm or hot air trapped under the high will become hotter and hotter, creating a heat dome.  Hot air will rise into the atmosphere, but high pressure acts as a lid and causes the air to subside or sink; as the air sinks, it warms by compression, and the heat builds. The ground also warms, losing moisture and making it easier to heat even more.

Decalcomania

Decalcomania (pronounced dih-kal-kuh-mey-nee-uh or dih-kal-kuh-meyn-yuh)

(1) The process of transferring designs from specially prepared paper to cardboard, paper, wood, metal, china, glass etc.

(2) A design so transferred (always rare).

1864: From the French décalcomanie, the construct being décalc- (representing décalquer (to trace, transfer (a design)) the construct being dé- (in the sense of “off”) + calquer (to press) + the interfix “-o-” + -manie (–mania).  Decalcomania is a noun; the noun plural is decalcomanias (the plural in French was decalcomania).  Disappointingly, the noun decalcomaniac is non-standard.

The French prefix dé- partly was inherited from the Middle French des-, from the Old French des-, from a conflation of Latin dis- (apart) (ultimately from the primitive Indo-European dwís).  In English, the de- prefix was from the Latin dē-, from the preposition dē (of, from (the Old English æf- was a similar prefix)).  It imparted the sense of (1) reversal, undoing, removing, (2) intensification and (3) derived from; of off.  In French the dé- prefix was used to make antonyms (as un- & dis- function in English) and was partially inherited from the Old and Middle French des-, from the Latin dis- (part), the ultimate source being the primitive Indo-European dwís and partially borrowed from Latin dē-.  In English de- became a most active word-forming element, used with many verbs in some way gained French or Latin.  The frequent use in Latin as “down, down from, from, off; down to the bottom & totally (hence “completely” (intensive or completive)) came to be reflected in many English words.  As a Latin prefix it was used also to “undo” or “reverse” a verb's action; it thus came to be used as a pure privative (ie “not, do the opposite of, undo”) and that remains the predominant function as a living prefix in English such as defrost (1895 and a symbol of the new age of consumer-level refrigeration), defuse (1943 and thus obviously something encouraged by the sudden increase in live bombs in civilian areas which need the fuses to be removed to render them safe) and de-escalate (1964, one of the first linguistic contributions of the political spin related to the war in Vietnam).  In many cases, there is no substantive difference between using de- or dis- as a prefix and the choice can be simply one of stylistic preference.  Calquer (to press) was from the Italian calcare, from the Latin calcāre (to tread on; to press (that sense derived from calx (heel)).

The suffix –mania was from the Latin mania, from the Ancient Greek μανία (mania) (madness).  In modern use in psychiatry it is used to describe a state of abnormally elevated or irritable mood, arousal, and/or energy levels and as a suffix appended as required.  In general use, under the influence of the historic meaning (violent derangement of mind; madness; insanity), it’s applied to describe any “excessive or unreasonable desire; a passion or fanaticism” which can us used even of unthreatening behaviors such as “a mania for flower arranging, crochet etc”.  As a suffix, it’s often appended with the interfix -o- make pronunciation more natural.  The use of the suffix “-mania” in “decalcomania” may appear a curious use of an element in a word describing a process in graphical or decorative art given usually it’s appended to reference a kind of obsession or madness (kleptomania, bibliomania, megalomania et al) but here it’s used in a more abstract way.  The “-manie” in the French décalcomanie was used to suggest a fad or craze (the latter in the sense of something suddenly widely popular) and was not related to the way “mania” is used by mental health clinicians.  So, it was metaphorical rather than medical rather as “Tulipmania” came to be used of the seventeenth century economic bubble in the Netherlands which was centred on the supply of and demand for tulip bulbs.

TeePublic’s Lindsay Lohan decals (page one).

The noun decal (pronounced dee-kal or dih-kal) was in use by at least 1910 as a clipping of decalcomania, a process which came into vogue in France as early as the 1840s before crossing the channel, England taking up the trend in the early 1860s.  As a noun it referred to (1) the prepared paper (or other medium) bearing a image, text, design etc for transfer to another surface (wood, metal, glass, etc) or (2) the picture or design itself.  The verb (“to decal” and also as decaled or decaling) described the process of applying or transferring the image (or whatever) from the medium by decalcomania.  The noun plural is decals.  In the US, the word came to be used of adhesive stickers which could be promotional or decorative and this use is now common throughout the English speaking world.  The special use (by analogy) in computer graphics describes a texture overlaid atop another to provide additional detailing.

Variants of the transfer technique which came to be called decalcomania would for centuries have been used by artists before it became popularized in the mid-eighteenth century.  The method was simply to spread ink or paint onto a surface and, before the substances dried, it was covered with material such as such as paper, glass, or metallic foil, which, when removed, transferred the pattern which could be left in that form or embellished.  Originally the designs were deliberate but the innovation of the Surrealists was to create imagery by chance rather than conscious control of the materials.  The artistic merits of that approach can be discussed but young children have long taken to it like ducks to water, splashing colors on one side of a piece of paper and then folding it in half so, once pressed together, the shape is “mirrored”, creating what is called a “butterfly print”, something like the cards used in the Rorschach tests.

Although an ancient practice, it is French engraver Simon François Ravenet (1706–circa 1774) who is crediting with give the technique its name because he called it décalquer (from the French papier de calque (tracing paper) and this coincided with painters in Europe experimenting with ink blots to add “accidental” forms of expression into their work.  Ravenet spent years working in England (where usually he was styled Simon Francis Ravenet) and was influential in the mid century revival of engraving although it was in ceramics decalcomania first became popular although the word didn’t come into wide use until adopted by the Spanish-born French surrealist Óscar Domínguez (1906–1957).  It was perhaps the German Dadaist and Surrealist Max Ernst (1891–1976) who more than most exemplified the possibilities offered decalcomania and it was US philosopher turned artist Robert Motherwell (1915–1991) who said of him: “Like every consequential modern painter, Max Ernst has enforced his own madness on the world.”  Motherwell was of the New York School (which also included the Russian-born Mark Rothko (1903–1970), drip painter Jackson Pollock (1912-1956) and the Dutch-American Willem de Kooning (1904–1997)) so he was no stranger to the observation of madness.  Condemned by the Nazis variously as an abstractionist, modernist, Dadaist and Surrealist, Ernst fled to Paris and after the outbreak of World War II (1939-1945) he was one of a number of artistic and political figures who enjoyed the distinction of being imprisoned by both the French and the Gestapo; it was with the help of US art patron and collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898–1979) he in 1941 escaped Vichy France and fled to the US.

That “help” involved their marriage, hurriedly arranged shortly after the pair landed in New York but although in the technical sense a “marriage of convenience”, she does seem genuinely to have been fond of Ernst and some romantic element wasn’t entirely absent from their relationship although it’s acknowledged it was a “troubled” marriage. A divorce was granted in 1946 but artistically, she remained faithful, his work displayed prominently in her New York gallery (Art of This Century (1942–1947)), then the city’s most significant centre of the avant-garde.  Through this exposure, although he never quite became integrated into the (surprisingly insular) circle of abstract expressionists, Ernst not only became acquainted with the new wave of American artists but contributed also to making European modernism familiar to Americans at a time when the tastes of collectors (and many critics) remained conservative.  He was an important element in her broader mission to preserve and promote avant-garde art despite the disruption of war.  So, the relationship was part patronage and part curatorial judgment and historians haven’t dwelt too much on the extent it was part love; even after their divorce, Guggenheim continued to collect pieces by Ernst and they remain in her famous “Venice Collection” at the Palazzo Venier dei Leoni.  As a wife she would have had opinions of her husband but as a critic she also classified and never said of Ernst as she said of Pollock: “...the greatest painter since Picasso.”

Untitled (1935), Decalcomania (ink transfer) on paper by André Breton.

For Ernst, the significance of decalcomania was not its utility as a tool of production (as it would appeal to graphic artists and decal-makers) but as something which would result in a randomness to excite his imagination.  What he did was use the oil paint as it ended up on canvas after being “pressed” as merely the starting point, onto which he built elements of realism, suggesting often mythical creatures in strange, unknown places but that was just one fork of decalcomania, Georges Hugnet (1906–1974) rendering satirical images from what he found while André Breton (1896–1966 and a “multi-media” figure decades before term emerged) used the technique to hone surrealism, truly decalcomania’s native environment.

Decalcomania in psychiatry and art: Three of the ink-blot cards (top row) included by Swiss psychiatrist Hermann Rorschach (1885-1922) in his Rorschach Test (1927), a projective psychological tool in which subjects' perceptions of inkblots are recorded and then analyzed with psychological interpretation or historical statistical comparison (and now, also AI (artificial intelligence)) and three images from the Pornographic Drawing series by Cornelia Parker (bottom row).

Nor has decalcomania been abandoned by artists, English installation specialist Cornelia Parker (b 1956) producing drawings which overlaid contemporary materials onto surfaces created with the decalcomania process, the best known of which was the series Pornographic Drawing (1996) in which an inky substance extracted from pornographic film material was applied to paper, folded in half and opened again to reveal the sexualised imagery which emerged through the intervention of chance.  Although it’s speculative, had Ms Parker’s work been available and explained to the Nazi defendants at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) when they were considering the Rorschach Test cards, their responses would likely have been different.  Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941) would have been disgusted and become taciturn while Julius Streicher (1885–1946; Nazi Gauleiter of Franconia 1929-1940) would have been stimulated to the point of excitement.

Europe after the Rain II, 1940-1942 (Circa 1941), oil on canvas by Max Ernst.

Regarded as his masterpiece, Europe after the Rain II (often sub-titled “An Abstract, Apocalyptic Landscape”) was intended to evoke feelings of despair, exhaustion, desolation and a fear of the implications of the destructive power of modern, mechanized warfare.  It was a companion work to an earlier to the earlier Europe after the Rain I, (1933), sculpted from plaster and oil on plywood in which Ernst built on a decalcomania base to render an imaginary relief map of Europe.  It was in 1933 Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) gained power in Germany.

Europe after the Rain I, (1933), oil & plaster on plywood by Max Ernst.

Even the physical base of Europe After the Rain I was a piece of surrealist symbolism, the plywood taken from the stage sets used for the film L'Âge d'or (1930) (The Age of Gold or the Golden Age depending on the translator's interpretation).  Directed by Spaniard Luis Buñuel (1900-1983), L'Âge d'or was a film focused on the sexual mores of bourgeois society and a critique of the hypocrisies and contradictions of the Roman Catholic Church's clerical establishment.  While one of France's first "sound films", it was, as was typical during what was a transitional era, told mostly with the use of title cards, the full-screen explanatory texts which appeared between scenes.

Snow Flowers (1929) oil on canvas by means of frottage & grattage by Max Ernst.

Technically, Ernst was an innovator in Decalcomania, in 1925 using the technique of frottage (laying a sheet of paper over a textured surface and rubbing it with charcoal or graphite).  The appeal of this was it imparted the quality of three dimensionality and Ernst liked textured surfaces as passages in a larger composition.  He also employed grattage (frottage’s sister technique) in which an object is placed under a piece of paper, which is then covered with a thin layer of pigment and once the pigment is scraped off, what is revealed is a colorful imprint of the object and its texture.

1969 Chrysler (Australia) VF Valiant Pacer 225 (left), 1980 Porsche 924 Turbo (centre) and cloisonné Scuderia Ferrari fender shield on 1996 Ferrari F355 Spider (right).

There was a time when decals or cars were, by some, looked down upon because they were obviously cheaper than badges made of metal.  That attitude changed for a number of reasons including their use on sexy, high-performance cars, the increasing use of decals on race cars after advertising became universally permitted after 1968 and the advent of plastic badges which, being cheaper to produce and install, soon supplanted metal on all but the most expensive vehicles.  By the mid 1970s even companies such as Porsche routinely applied decals and the Scuderia Ferrari fender shield, used originally on the cars run by the factory racing team, became a popular after-market accessory and within the Ferrari community, there was a clear hierarchy of respectability between thin, “stuck on” printed decals and the more substantial cloisonné items.

A video clip explaining why a Scuderia Ferrari fender shield costs US$14,000 if it's painted in the factory.

However, many of the cloisonné shields were non-authentic (ie not a factory part number), even the most expensive selling for less than US$1000 and there was no obvious way to advertise one had a genuine “made in Maranello” item.  Ferrari’s solution was to offer as a factory option a decalcomania, hand-painted by an artisan in a process said to take about eight hours.  To reassure its consumers (keen students of what the evil Montgomery Burns (of The Simpsons TV cartoon series) calls “price taggery”), the option is advertised (depending on the market) at around US$14,000.