Tincture

Tincture (pronounced tingk-cher)

(1) In pharmacology, a solution of alcohol or of alcohol and water, containing animal, vegetable, or chemical drugs (an alcohol solution of a non-volatile medicine (obsolete)).

(2) A slight infusion, as of some element or quality; the dipping of something into a liquid to gain to color.

(3) A trace; a smack or smattering; tinge.

(4) In heraldry, any of the colors, metals, or furs used for the fields, charges etc, of an escutcheon or achievement of arms.

(5) A pigment or other substance that colours or dyes; specifically, a pigment used as a cosmetic (obsolete).

(6) To impart a tint or color to; tinge.

(7) To imbue or infuse with something.

(8) A slight flavour, aroma, or trace

(9) In medicine as "tincture of steel", an alcoholic solution of the chloride of iron (obsolete).

(10) A small flaw, an imperfection; a blemish or stain (now rare except as a literary device).

(11) In Christianity, a synonym of baptism (based on the idea of being "dipped into or sprinkled with Holy Water". 

(12) A (small) alcoholic drink (used humorously).

(13) In alchemy, an immaterial substance or spiritual principle which was thought capable of being instilled into physical things; also, the essence or spirit of something; a material essence thought to be capable of extraction from a substance.

(14) In chemistry, the part of a substance thought to be essential, finer, and/or more volatile, which could be extracted in a solution; also, the process of obtaining this.

1350-1400: From the Late Middle English tincture (dye, pigment; colour, hue, tint; process of colouring or dyeing; medicinal ointment or salve (perhaps one discolouring the skin); use of a medicinal tincture; (alchemy) transmutation of base metals into gold; ability to cause such transmutation; substance supposed to cause such transmutation)), the construct being the Latin tīnct(ūra) (act of dyeing) + the Middle English -ure (the suffix indicating an action or a process and the means or result of that action or process).  The construct of tīnctūra was tīnc(tus) (coloured, tinged; dipped in; impregnated with; treated”) + -tūra (the suffix forming action nouns expressing activities or results) while tīnctus was the perfect passive participle of tingō (to colour, dye, tinge; to dip (in), immerse; to impregnate (with); to moisten, wet; to smear), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European teng- (to dip; to soak), (source also of the Old High German dunkon (to soak) and the Greek tengein (to moisten).  It was cognate with the Ancient Greek τέγγω (téngō) and from the Latin Modern English has picked up tint, taint and tainture (an obsolete synonym of tincture).  Tincture is a noun & verb, tinct, tincturation, tincturing & tinction are nouns, verbs & adjectives, tinctured is a verb & adjective, tinctorial & tinctorious are adjectives and tinctorially is an adverb; the noun plural is tinctures.  The noun tinctura is listed by most dictionaries as obsolete but it is still in use poetically.

The fifteenth century use by apothecaries to refer to medicinal ointments (the assumption by historians this use was associated particularly with those used to discolor the skin or from being imbued with the essential principles of the substance).  In pre-modern medicine the meaning lingered, the idea of a tincture being a “solution of medicine in a mixture of alcohol” recorded in the professional texts in the 1640s.  In fashion, parchment preparation and then still rare applications such as wallpaper, the word was used to describe a “process of coloring" from early in the fifteenth century.  The verb was derived from the noun and came into use in the 1610s in the sense of “imbue with color”.  Tincturation (preparation of a tincture) was in use by the mid nineteenth century while tinction has been used to mean “preparation for dyeing, coloring matter ready for use” since the 1890s.

Not following the rules: The Lohan family crest.

In heraldry, the “rule of tincture” (described as “a design philosophy”) is the convention “metal should not be put on metal, nor colour on colour”.  There appears to be no historical basis for the emergence of this rule in the early fifteenth century and the favored modern explanation is that imposing it simply made it easier for the craftsmen of the era, it being technically challenging to inlay metals in metals, the practical point being a high wastage rate of expensive materials (the client paying only for the finished product).  However, the rule took hold rather in the manner the strictures in some religions (such as prohibitions on the consumption of shellfish or pig products) began as public health measures in the pre-refrigeration age endured to become orthodox articles of faith.  Centuries later, although the application of the “rule” began to be relaxed, such was the enduring influence that artisans' guilds formally codified a list of “exemptions” from the rule.

Meaning shift

The historic meaning of tincture (a synonym for dye or pigment) is now entirely obsolete; a tincture is now a subtle shade, tint or variation of an original colour or a smattering of another.  It can be applied to any field vaguely analogous such as tastes or aromas and can be used pejoratively to suggest someone’s knowledge of something might be less than advertised.  It has also found a niche is recipes printed in up-market publications as a word to use instead of "hint".

Lindsay Lohan tinctures: copper and auburn variations of red.

The Dendrobates tinctorius “Giant Orange” (the common name the "Dyeing Poison Dart Frog" (based on the early belief natives used brightly colored frogs to dye feathers & fabrics)).  Described by retailers as a “great beginner frog” (the reason for that presumably understood by collectors) and “best kept in pairs”, the RRP (recommended retail price) is US$59.99.

The adjective tinctorious dates from the late eighteenth century and appears first to have been used of colorful plants.  Even in horticulture it has become rare but an echo survives in the Dendrobates Tinctorius, a frog much prized by collectors and photographers for its striking colors and patterns.  Unsurprisingly referred to usually as "tincs" (the standard abbreviation of "tincture") Dendrobates Tinctorius are one of the largest species of poison dart frogs, although in global terms still hardly large, the largest some 2 inches (50 mm) length. They are native to the rainforests of South America and appear in dramatic color combinations including hues of blues, blacks, yellows and oranges.  They can safely be kept by hobbyests because in capativity they're not poisonous, their toxicity in the wild by virtue of their preferred diet of small invertebrates, not consumed in a captive environment.  Prices of adults in the most desired color mixes can exceed US$120.

Auburn

Auburn (pronounced aw-bern)

(1) A reddish-brown or golden-brown color.

(2) Of something colored auburn (most often used to describe hair).

(3) A widely used locality name.

(4) As the Auburn system (also known as the New York system and Congregate system), a notably severe penal method created in the early nineteenth century and implemented in Auburn Prison, Auburn, New York.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English abron, abrune aborne & abourne (light brown, yellowish brown), a sixteenth century alteration (because of a conflation with the later spelling auburne with the Middle English broune & brun (brown) which also changed the spelling) of the earlier auborne (yellowish-white, flaxen) from the Middle French & Old French auborne & alborne (blond, flaxen, off-white) from the Medieval alburnus (fair-haired, literally “like white or whitish”) and related to alburnum (the soft, newer wood in the trunk of a tree found between the bark and the hardened heartwood, often paler in color than the heartwood) from alba & albus (white).  Since the meaning shifted from blonde to hues of red, auburn has tended to be used exclusively of women’s hair.  The noun use dates from 1852.  Auburn is often associated with the Venetian painter Tiziano Vecellio (circa 1490-1576; known usually in English as Titian), especially the works of his early career when the colors tended to be more vivid but the modern practice is to apply auburn to darker shades although there’s much imprecision in commercial applications such as hair dyes and what some call some sort of auburn, others might list as some variation of burgundy, brown, chestnut, copper, hazel, henna, russet, rust or titian.

The term “medieval scholar” is not of course oxymoronic though the language is replete with errors of translation and misunderstandings replicated and re-enforced over a thousand-odd years.  However, as English began to assume its recognizably modern form, nor were errors unknown and it does seem strange such a well-documented Latin word as alburnus (fair-haired, literally “like white or whitish”) which had evolved in Middle English as auburne could be conflated with the Middle English broune & brun (brown), leading eventually to the modern auburn having morphed from blonde to a range of reddish browns.  Some etymologists however suggests it was deliberate, the late fifteenth century blond being preferred while auburne was re-purposed to where it could be more useful in the color-chart.  The modern blond & blonde were from the Old French & Middle French blund & blont (blond, light brown, feminine of blond) thought most likely of Germanic origin and related to the Late Latin blundus (yellow) from which Italian picked up biondo and Spanish gained blondo.  It was akin to the Old English blondenfeax (gray-haired), derived from the Classical Latin flāvus (yellow) and in Old English, there was also blandan (to mix).  There exists an alternative etymology which connects the Frankish blund (a mixed color between golden and light-brown) to the Proto-Germanic blundaz (blond), the Germanic forms derived from the primitive Indo-European bhlnd (to become turbid, see badly, go blind) & blend (blond, red-haired)).  If so, it would be cognate with the Sanskrit bradhná (ruddy, pale red, yellowish).  In his dictionary (1863-1873), Émile Littré (1801–1881) noted the original sense of the French word was "a color midway between golden and light chestnut" which might account for the notion of "mixed."  In the Old English beblonden meant "dyed," so it is a possible root of blonde and the documentary record does confirm ancient Teutonic warriors were noted for dying their hair.

However the work of the earlier French lexicographer, Charles du Fresne (1610-1688), claimed that blundus was a vulgar pronunciation of Latin flāvus (yellow) but cited no sources.  Another guess, and one discounted universally by German etymologists, is that it represents a Vulgar Latin albundus from the Classical Latin alba & albus (white).  The word came into English from Old French where it had masculine and feminine forms and the English noun imported both, thus a blond is a fair-haired male, a blonde a fair-haired female and even if no longer a formal rule in English, it’s an observed convention.  As an adjective, blonde is now the more common spelling and can be applied to both sexes, a use once prevalent in the US although most sources note the modern practice is to refer to women as blonde and men as fair.  Even decades ago, style guides on both sides of the Atlantic maintained, to avoid offence, it was better to avoid using blond(e) as a stand-alone noun-descriptor of women.

Paintings by Titian (left to right), Portrait of a Lady (circa 1511), National Gallery, London, Flora (1515), Uffizi Gallery, Florence, St Margaret and the Dragon (circa 1559) Museo del Prado, Madrid & Portrait of a Lady in White (circa 1561), Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Dresden.

Even the understanding of auburn as “reddish brown” or “golden brown” has changed over the years.  The Venetian painter Tiziano Vecellio (circa 1490-1576 and known in English usually as Titian) lent the name “titian auburn” to the tint of reddish-brown hair which appeared so often in his work.  As so often happens in art, his output darkened as he aged so the term “titian auburn” as a literal descriptor of a particular tincture needs to be understood as a spectrum.  While his fondness for redheads seems not to have diminished with age, the vivid hues which characterized the flowing locks he favored in his youth were later sometimes rendered in more subdued tones.

Lindsay Lohan illustrates the shift from the Latin alburnus to the modern English Auburn.

(1) Alburnus as a Roman would have understood the description; now called blond or blonde depending on context.

(2) The classical understanding of “titian auburn”, a light and vivid shade reddish-brown.

(3) A more cooper-tinged hue, representative of what the hair-dye industry would call something like “light auburn”.

(4) This is a dark alburn; any darker and depending on the tint, it would be described either as burgundy or chestnut.

The Auburn Speedster

1935 Auburn 851 SC Speedster.

Under a variety of corporate structures, the Auburn company produced cars in the US between 1900-1937 and is remembered now for the Speedster 851 & 852, one of the most romantic designs of the mid-1930s.  Although Auburn, along with its corporate stablemates Cord and Duesenberg, succumbed to the affects of the Great Depression, the company’s financial problems long-predated the 1929 Wall Street crash, the conglomerate of the three manufacturers assembled in 1925 as a restructuring.  After this, in the growing economy of the 1920s Auburn began again to prosper and it was in 1925 the company introduced the model which would be the basis of the later 851 & 852.  Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg (A-C-D) actually enjoyed a logical structure in that the brand-names existed at different price points but it lacked any presence in the low-cost mass-market, relying instead on lower volume vehicles which relied on their style, engineering and value for money for their appeal.  Had the depression not happened, the strategy might have worked but, given the austerity of the 1930s, what’s remarkable is that A-C-D endured until 1937.             

1932 Auburn 12-160.  The color is said to be a 1932 factory option and is similar to the apple green with which Duesenberg painted their 6.9 litre (420 cubic inch) straight-eights.

Although now celebrated for their stylish lines, A-C-D’s cars were at the time also noted for innovation and the quality of their engineering.  Cord’s front-wheel-drive proved a cul-de-sac to which US manufacturers wouldn’t for decades return but other aspects of their designs were influential although A-C-D’s trademark quixotic offerings sometimes suggested a sense of disconnection from economic reality; in 1932, in the depth of the depression, Auburn announced a model powered by a 391 cubic inch (6.5 litre) V12, a perhaps questionable approach in an environment which had seen demand collapse for the twelve and sixteen cylinder Lincolns, Packard and Cadillacs.  Elegant and powerful, in less troubled times it would likely have succeeded but was wholly unsuited to the world into which it was released despite being priced from an extraordinary US$1,105; while that was 40% more than even the most expensive Ford V8, it was a fraction the cost of the more comparable Packard or Lincoln V12.

1936 Auburn 852 SC Speedster.

The Boattail Speedster was less ambitious but had already carved its niche.  It was designed in 1928 to create the signature product that encapsulated what A-C-D wished the Auburn marque to represent: fast, sleek, stylish and a value for money no other could match; had the company anticipated the slogan “grace, space & pace” it would have been well understood for what is now called a mission statement was exactly what made Jaguar such a success in the post-war years.  Using Lycoming's smooth, powerful and reliable straight-eight cylinder engine, sleek Speedster delivered the performance the lines promised, a genuine 100 mph (160 km/h) roadster which set speed records when taken to Daytona Beach.  The Speedster’s classic iteration was the 851 (the subsequent 852 all but identical), introduced in 1934, the design clearly a homage to the much-admired (if infrequently purchased) Duesenberg Weymann Speedster though where the Duesenberg was long and elegant, the Auburn was squat and sporty and for those who wanted something more charismatic still, the 280 cubic inch (4.6 litre) straight-eight could be ordered with a Schwitzer-Cummins centrifugal supercharger.  The market responded to the speed and the art deco style but the investment had been considerable, something the under-capitalized A-C-D undertook only because the improving economy provided some confidence sales would be sufficient to ensure profitability.  Had the recovery been sustained, A-C-D may have survived, unemployment in 1937 still high but significantly lower in the demographic which was their target market.  As in was, in mid-1937, the US economy suffered a sudden, sharp, recession which would last over a year, the effects lingering until late 1940 when the combined effected of increased armaments production and a presidential election had a simulative effect.  A-C-D, its finances in a perilous state since the Wall Street Crash, couldn’t survive and the companies all entered bankruptcy, Auburn succumbing in 1937.

A-C-D’s fate provides a cautionary tale which for decades was often ignored by those unable to resist the siren call to make beautiful, fast cars bearing their name.  Unless volumes were sufficient (thereby diluting the lure of exclusivity which tended to be much of the attraction) or else subsidized by the profits of some mass-market offering, enduring success was rare and few of those which did initially flourish were capitalized to the extent necessary to survive the inevitable downturns which disproportionally affects those depending on the more self-indulgent sectors sustained by discretionary expenditure.

Martini

Martini (pronounced mahr-tee-nee)

A cocktail made with gin or vodka and dry vermouth, usually served with a green olive (the twist of lemon a more recent alternative).

1885-1890:  Origin disputed; it may be an alteration of Martinez (an earlier alternate name of the drink) but is probably by association with the vermouth manufacturer Martini, Sola & Co. (later Martini & Rossi). Another theory holds it’s a corruption of Martinez, California, town where the drink was said to have originated.  Others claim it was first mixed in New York but then NYC claims lots of things happened there first.

CCTV image capture, New York City, 24 July 2012.  Noted Martini aficionado Lindsay Lohan enjoys a Vodka Martini.

By 1922 the Martini had assumed its modern, recognizable form: London dry gin and dry vermouth in a ratio 2:1, stirred in a mixing glass with ice cubes, sometimes with addition aromatic bitters, then strained into a chilled cocktail glass.  Green olives were the expected garnish by the onset of World War II with a twist of lemon peel often seen by the 1950s.  From the 1930s on, the amount of vermouth steadily dropped as the cult of the dry prevailed.  Today, a typical dry Martini is made with a ration between 6:1 and 12:1.  Some were more extreme, Noël Coward (1899–1973) suggesting filling a glass with gin, then lifting it in the general direction of the vermouth factories in Italy.  Ian Fleming (1908–1964) had James Bond follow Harry Craddock’s shaken, not stirred directive from The Savoy Cocktail Book (1930) but contemporaries, Somerset Maugham (1874–1965) and Franklin Roosevelt (1882–1945; US president 1933-1945), neither a stranger to a Martini, both recommended stirring although chemists observe the concept of “bruising the gin” has no basis in science.  The Vodka Martini came later.  It was first noted in the 1950s when known as the Kangaroo Cocktail, a hint at its disreputable origins but normally reliable sources commend the Blueberry Vodka Martini and purists concede this is the only Martini to benefit from using sweet vermouth.  In 1966, the American Standards Association (ASA) released K100.1-1966, "Safety Code and Requirements for Dry Martinis," a humorous account of how to make a "standard" dry Martini. The latest revision of this document, K100.1-1974, was published by American National Standards Institute (ANSI).  Flippant they may have been but they’re good guides to the classic method.

Compare & contrast: A classic Gin Martini (left) and a Stoli Blueberry Vodka Martini (right)

Stoli Blueberry Vodka Martini Recipe

Ingredients

60 ml (2 oz) Stoli Blueberi Vodka
60 ml (2 oz) sweet vermouth
15 ml (½ oz) lemon Juice
3-5 fresh blueberries
Ice Cubes

Instructions

(1) Pour Stioli Blueberi Vodka, sweet vermouth and lemon juice into cocktail shaker and middle blueberries.
(2) Add ice cubes until shaker is two-thirds full.
(3) Shake thoroughly until mixture is icy.
(4) Strain and pour into chilled martini glasses.
(5) Skew blueberries with cocktail pick, garnish martini and serve.
(6) Add a little blueberry juice to lend a bluish tincture (optinal).

Martini Racing, the Porsche 917 and the Pink Pig

Porsche 917LH, Le Mans, 1970.

Unlike some teams which maintained a standard livery, Martini Racing sometimes fielded other designs.  One noted departure was the “hippie” or “psychedelic” color scheme applied to the Porsche 917LH (Langheck (Longtail)) which placed second at Le Mans in 1970 and proved so popular that the factory received requests from race organizers requesting it be entered.  Weeks later, across the Atlantic, the organizers of the Watkins Glen Six Hours wanted their own ‘hippie’ 917 but with the car in Stuttgart, Martini Racing took over another team’s car and raced in ‘hippie’ colors to ninth place on one day and sixth the next.

Porsche 917K, 1970.

Subsequently the scheme was reprised in another, even more lurid combination of yellow & red in another psychedelic design, this time to match the corporate colors of Shell, the teams sponsor.  This remains the only surviving psychedelic car, the factory’s Langheck 917 being converted to 1971 specifications and painted in Gulf Oil’s livery for Le Mans.  Like many other used 917s, subsequently it was scrapped by an unsentimental Porsche management.

Porsche 917-20, 1971.

Although it raced only once, the “Pink Pig” (917-20) remains one of the best remembered 917s.  In the never-ending quest to find the optimal compromise between the down-force needed to adhere to the road and a low-drag profile to increase speed, a collaboration between Porsche and France's Société d’Etudes et de Réalisations Automobiles (SERA, the Society for the Study of Automotive Achievement) was formed to explore a design combine the slipperiness of the 917-LH with the stability of the 917-K.  Porsche actually had their internal styling staff work on the concept at the same time, the project being something of a Franco-German contest.  The German work produced something streamlined & futuristic with fully enclosed wheels and a split rear wing but despite the promise, the French design was preferred.  The reasons for this have never been clarified but there may have been concerns the in-house effort was too radical a departure from what had been homologated on the basis of an earlier inspection and that getting such a different shape through scrutineering, claiming it still an “evolution” of the original 917, might have been a stretch.  No such problems confronted the French design; SERA's Monsieur Charles Deutsch (1911-1980) was Le Mans race director.  On the day, the SERA 917 passed inspection without comment.

Porsche 917-20, Le Mans, 1971.

At 87 versus 78 inches (2.2 vs 2.0 m), the SERA car much wider than a standard 917K, the additional width shaped to minimize air flow disruption across the wheel openings.  The nose was shorter, as was the tail which used a deeper concave than the “fin” tail the factory had added in 1971.  Whatever the aerodynamic gains, compared to the lean, purposeful 917-K, it looked fat, stubby and vaguely porcine; back in Stuttgart, the Germans, never happy about losing to the French, dubbed it "the pig".  Initially unconvincing in testing, the design responded to a few tweaks, the factory content to enter it in a three hour event where it dominated until sidelined by electrical gremlins.  Returned to the wind tunnel, the results were inconclusive although suggesting it wasn't significantly different from a 917K and suffered from a higher drag than the 917-LH.  It was an indication of what the engineers had long suspected: the 917K's shape was about ideal.

Porsche 917-20, Le Mans, 1971.

For the 1971 Le Mans race, the artist responsible for the psychedelia of 1970 applied the butcher’s chart lines to the body which had been painted pink.  In the practice and qualifying sessions, the Pig ran in pink with the dotted lines but not yet the decals naming the cuts; those, in a font called Pretoria, being applied just before the race and atop each front fender was a white pig-shaped decal announcing: Trüfel Jäger von Zuffenhausen (the truffel hunter from Zuffenhausen); the Pink Pig had arrived.  Corpulent or not, in practice, it qualified a creditable seventh, two seconds slower than the 917-K that ultimately won and, in the race, ran well, running as high as third but a crash ended things.  Still in the butcher's shop livery, it's now on display in the Porsche museum.

Porsche 917-20, 1971.

Scuttlebutt has always surrounded the Pink Pig.  It's said the decals with the names of the cuts of pork and bacon were applied furtively, in the early morning of the race, just to avoid anyone asking they be removed.  Unlike the two other factory Porsches entered under the Martini banner, the Pink Pig carried no Martini decals, the rumor being that the Martini board refused to associate the brand with the thing.  Finally, although never confirmed by anyone, it's long been assumed the livery was created, not with any sense of levity but as a spiteful swipe at SERA although it may have been something light-hearted, nobody ever having proved Germans have no sense of humor.

Porsche 917KH, 1971.

Using the 917KH (Kurz (Short)), the factory team in 1970 gained Porsche its first outright victory in the Le Mans twenty-four classic.  In the following year's race, Martini Racing won using a 917KH with a similar specification, running this time in the standard corporate livery.  The refinements to the 917K's aerodynamic properties had tamed whatever idiosyncrasies remained from the fast but unstable original and with still could have been extracted from the enlarged flat-12 but with the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (International Automobile Federation)), international sport’s dopiest regulatory body, again changing the rules, the run in 1971 would prove to be the 917’s last official appearance at Le Mans.

Porsche 917-10, 1972.

Although the bloodless bureaucrats at the FIA probably thought they'd killed off the 917, there was still much potential to be exploited and Porsche now devoted the programme to the Can-AM (Canadian-American Challenge Cup), conducted on North American circuits for unlimited displacement sports cars.  Run under Group 7 regulations, what few rules there were mostly easy simultaneously to conform with while ignoring which it why the Can-Am between 1966-1973 is remembered as one of the golden eras of the sport.  Now turbocharged (as 917-10 & 917-30), in their ultimate form the cars were tuned in qualifying trim for some 1500 horsepower and raced usually with over 1000.  So dominant were the 917s that the previously successful McLaren team withdrew to focus on Formula One and there were doubts about the future of the series but as it turned out, the interplay of geopolitics and economics that was the first oil crisis meant excesses such as unlimited displacement racing was soon sacrificed.

Porsche 917K-81 (Kremer).

However, the 917 was allowed one final fling as an unintended consequence of rule changes for the 1981 sports car season which although never intended as a loophole through which the now ancient Porsche could pass, for one team the chance to again run the 917 at Le Mans proved irresistible.  The factory had retired the 917 after its win in the 1973 Can-Am, moving to the 936 platform for 1975 and while aware of the implications of the rule changes, weren't tempted by what they regarded a nostalgic cul-de-sac but Kremer Racing were intrigued and, with factory support, built a new 917 to Group 6 specifications (enclosed bodywork and a 5.0 litre flat-12), labeling it the 917K-81.  Using Kremer own aluminium spaceframe, at the 1981 Le Mans 24 hour it was fast enough to qualify in the top ten and run with the leaders until a suspension failure forced retirement (the car eventually classified: 38th, DNF (did not finish).  The pace displayed was sufficiently encouraging for the car to be entered in that year's 1000 km event at Brand Hatch where it proved fast but, lacking the factory support, also fragile and it again recorded a DNF.  That was the end of the line for the 917.

Rubricate

Rubricate (pronounced roo-bri-keyt)

(1) To mark or color with red; to adorn with red; to redden.

(2) To furnish with or regulate by rubrics.

(3) To write in the form of a rubric.

(4) In publishing, to print (a book or manuscript) with red titles, headings etc; to illuminate a manuscript with red letters.

1560–1570: Either from the perfect passive participle of the Latin verb rūbrīcō (to paint red) or from the Late Latin rūbrīcātus, past participle of rūbrīcāre (to color red), the construct being rūbrīc(a) (red ocher; red earth) + -ātus.  The Latin suffix -ātus was from the Proto-Italic -ātos, from the primitive Indo-European -ehtos.  It’s regarded as a "pseudo-participle" and perhaps related to –tus although though similar formations in other Indo-European languages indicate it was distinct from it already in early Indo-European times.  It was cognate with the Proto-Slavic –atъ and the Proto-Germanic -ōdaz (the English form being -ed (having).  The feminine form was –āta, the neuter –ātum and it was used to form adjectives from nouns indicating the possession of a thing or a quality.  Rubricate & rubricating are verbs, rubricated is a verb & adjective and rubrication & rubricator are nouns.

Rubic (rubrick the obsolete spelling) was from the Middle English rubriche & rubrike, from the Old French rubrique, from Latin rūbrīca (red ochre; red earth), the substance used to make red letters, from ruber (red), from the primitive Indo-European hrewdh.  Rubic came widely to be used, derived mostly from the sense of “giving emphasis or illumination to the text”.  In ecclesiastical printing, a “church text with rubrics” was one with the directions for a religious service printed in red.  This extended to secular publishing when used of a heading in a book or something highlighted in red which led to the general use as (1) a title of a category or a class, (2) an established rule or custom; a guideline.  By extension it came to describe (3) in education, a set of scoring criteria for evaluating a pupil’s work and the associated comments and (4) the flourish appearing after a signature.

The comparative is more rubricate and the superlative most rubricate.  Lindsay Lohan illustrates the nuances:

(1) Naturally rubricated.
(2) De-rubricated.
(3) Re-rubricated.
(4) Highly rubricated.

The popularity of red among Ferrari buyers has declined from the highs of the 1990s (and it was in this decade the phrase “resale red” was popularized) when fewer than two in ten were ordered in any other color but even today some 40% of Ferraris leave the factor finished in some shade of red.  Sliver, black, bright yellow and darker blues now attract buyers and noting this, the factory has in recent years launched new models in a variety of colors, the debut of the 488 Pista Spider at the 2018 Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance using a white car trimmed in black in Alcantara and leather, an unfortunately neglected combination.

Ferrari 488 Pista Spider, 2018 Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance.

Recent trends notwithstanding, red probably still is lodged in the public imagination as the color of a Ferrari and the origins of that long pre-date the brand, the motor-car and perhaps even the Italian state.  Quite how red became the Italian national color is contested among historians but the tale most Italians prefer is that of Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807-1882), an Italian nationalist general and politician.  Already famous for his exploits in Brazil, Uruguay and elsewhere in Europe, the legend of Garibaldi was created by his personal command of many of the military campaigns which led eventually to Italian unification in 1871 and his reputation as a romantic revolutionary has flourished because historians have seemed always anxious to present his military adventures as noble causes; unlike many pragmatic politicians of his time, Garibaldi longed for a united country and believed in miracles.

Portrait of Giuseppe Garibaldi (wearing garibaldino) during the landing of Thousand at Marsala (1860), oil on canvas by Induno, Gerolamo (1827-1890), Museo del Risorgimento, Turin.

Garibaldi’s part in the movement for Italian unification (known as il Risorgimento (Rising Again)) also added to the lexicon of paramilitary fashion.  His followers were known as the Garibaldini and in lieu of a uniform, they wore the red shirts he favored, the popular legend being it was to ensure they weren’t distracted from fighting were their blood to be spilled although it’s said that during his time in Uruguay, he wore the red shirts used by the butchers from a nearby slaughterhouse.  It was also an indication the campaign was a popular insurrection, not one fought by conventional military maneuvers or with traditional formations because, as the red-coated British soldiers had discovered, red wasn’t a good color to wear on a battlefield.  The word Garibaldino (plural Garibaldini) is used to refer to any volunteer soldier who served in the cause and the red shirts (which were never standardized in shade, style or cut) are often called garibaldino shirts or just garibaldinos.  From that point onwards, red began to be adopted as a symbol of many things Italian.

Le Mans 24-hour winning 1956 Jaguar D-Type in Ecurie Ecosse livery (known informally as Scottish Racing Blue)  In 2016 it sold at auction for US$22 million.

Il Risorgimento however can’t much in 1900 have occupied the minds of the members of the AIACR (the Association Internationale des Automobile Clubs Reconnus (International Association of Recognized Automobile Clubs), predecessor of the FIA (the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (International Automobile Federation)) because, displaying an ineptitude the FIA has of late turned into a mission statement, the color red was allocated to the United States as the official shade to be used on their racing cars.  The Belgiums were granted yellow, the French blue, the Germans white and the British Green and it wasn’t until 1907 the Italians were able to claim the right to red and these colors would sometimes be an issue in the years to come.  In 1934, Mercedes-Benz cars appeared in raw aluminum and the myth developed that the mechanics had to work overnight scraping off the thick layers of white paint so the machines would comply with the formula’s weight limit but the truth is less romantic. The factory simply didn’t wish to apply paint and the cars appeared at the track unpainted well before the weight limit was imposed, the company successfully arguing that in heraldry, silver and white are the same tincture (color), known as Argent.  The Nazis having taken power, the attitude “don’t argue with the Germans” was settling over Europe and the authorities relented.  Thus was born the era of the “silver arrows”, the all-conquering, aluminum-skinned grand-prix cars which would dominate the circuits in the 1930s and return for two winning seasons two decades later and the idea that white could be silver may have inspired the Nazis who for years argued (with gradually diminishing returns) that black was white.  The FIA also didn’t push the point in the 1950s when the Edinburgh-based Ecurie Ecosse (Scotland Stable) requested to race in the blue and white livery of the flag of Scotland, noting the pre World War I precedent of a Scottish outfit which had competed under a blue tartan.  Notably darker than French Racing Blue, Ecurie Ecosse argued the color really was a variation of green (although the real reason was they thought British Racing Green (BRG) was too identifiably “English”) and the request was approved, proving that if white can be silver, blue can be green.  In 1968, the system began to be abandoned under pressure from teams which wanted to use the corporate colors of their sponsors and that proved the thin end of the wedge, almost unrestricted advertising appearing within years.

But even when adorned with the logos of sponsors, Ferrari stuck to red.  Ferrari has sold road-cars (initially without great enthusiasm) to customers since 1947 and it’s impossible to compile a definitive list of all of the shades of red used over the decades given (1) the changes in the composition of paint which subtlety have altered the exact tincture, even of colors which retained the same designation (2) the sketchiness of the factory’s early records of such things and (3) the number of vehicles painted to special order, some of which used one-off shades.  However, Rossoautomobili compiled an illustrated guide to a dozen-odd which are said to be representative of the variations in rosso (red), all being rubricated although some are more rubricated than others; their indicative list including:

Rosso Barchetta (Little Boat Red): A darker shade of red.  Barchetta is Italian for “little boat”, an allusion to the shape Ferrari’s early (late 1940s) race cars.

Rosso Berlinetta (Coupé Red): A recent addition which takes advantage of newer techniques, permitting a triple-layer finish which sparkles in direct sunlight.  On the options sheet it lists at €20.000 (US$21,200).  In translation, berlinetta is literally “a small saloon” but in the Italian way of things is to applied to coupés.

1965 Ferrari 275 GTB (short-nose) in Rosso Cina.

Rosso Cina (China Red): Another of the darker hues which many would think of as a burgundy or maroon.  Non-metallic, it was introduced during the 1960s, the era of the 275 and 330 series cars and was reputedly a tribute to the red used on some fine Chinese porcelain held in Italian museums.

Rosso Dino: Another artifact from the 1960s, this one was discontinued in the 1970s before being re-introduced early in the twenty-first century and it remains part of Ferrari’s historical colour palette.  It straddles that area between red and orange, the name a tribute to Alfredo Ferrari (nicknamed Alfredino or Dino) 1932-1956; son of il Commendatore, Enzo Ferrari (1898-1987).

Rosso Fiorano (Fiorano Red): A darker shade named after Ferrari’s test track Pista di Fiorano.

Rosso Magma (Lava Red): A very metallic shade which was originally a Maserati part-number, added through the factory’s "Tailor Made" programme for selected models.  The name summons the image of the red-hot lava which flows from the earth’s magma chambers during volcanic eruptions.

2014 Ferrari LaFerrari in Rossa Vinaccia.

Rosso Vinaccia (Red Wine): The factory insists this must be thought a red although most might at first sight think it a purple.  The link lies in the literal translation as “red wine” but rather than the drops, the inspiration came from the detritus, the remains of the grapes after the juice is extracted.

Rosso Maranello Opaco (Matte Maranello Red): Reflecting the fad in recent decades for matte-finish paints (which seems to date from the idea that the military’s stealth technology could be used to absorb rather than reflect the radar waves police use in speed-limit enforcement), this is based on the metallic triple-layer Rosso Maranello. 

Rosso Metallizzato (Metallic Red): Dark almost to the point of suggesting a hint of purple, it’s one of the darkest shades of red on the option sheet.

Rosso Mugello (Mugello Red): Named after the Autodromo Internazionale del Mugello, this is both darker and a little more subdued than most reds.

Rosso Portofino (Portofino Red): Introduced as the signature shade of the Ferrari Portofino in 2017, it’s in the traditional vein and probably only experts can pick the difference.

1972 Dino 246 GT by Ferrari in Rosso Corsa.

Rosso Corsa (Racing Red): The classic Italian Racing Red, the original, and to many the definitive Ferrari color.

Rosso Scuderia (Factory Team Red): The especially bright Rosso Scuderia will be familiar to many as the exact color used by the Scuderia Ferrari (the factory racing team) for the Formula 1 cars.  In certain light conditions, it tend to orange.

Rosso Singapore (Singapore Red): Reflecting the increasing importance of the markets in the Far East, Rosso Singapore first appeared on a "Tailor Made" Ferrari commissioned by a dealer to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Singapore.

Rubino Micalizzato (Micalised Ruby): A dark and most subdued red (which is described as a “ruby”), it’s available only on request and doesn’t appear on the factory’s color charts.

Italian Racing Red: 1950 Ferrari 375 FI (left) & 1960 Ferrari 246 F1 (right).

The 375 was built to contest Formula One during the immediate post-war era when the rules permitted engines to be either 4.5 liters (275 cubic inch, naturally aspirated) or 1.5 litres (92 cubic inch, supercharged).  Although down on power compared with the supercharged BRM V16, the 4.5 litre V12 Ferrari proved more reliable and was the first in a series of classic front-engined roadsters which endured until 1960.  In 1960, a 246 F1 using a 2.4 litre (147 cubic inch) V6 was the last front-engined machine to win a Formula 1 grand prix, taking the checkered flag at the Italian Grand Prix (most of the mid-engined competition having withdrawn over safety concerns about the fast Monza circuit).