Category Archives: History

But I could have told you, Vincent…

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…this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.

I love that song. One of the all-time best songs of the seventies. If you don’t know it, you have to listen/watch. It’s an emergency.

This morning I caught a link to “This Day in History.” I found out through more searching that Vincent van Gogh did not in fact “chop off his own ear.” First, it wasn’t his whole ear, but rather just a small part of the lobe. And according to NPR, the police report of the incident suggested a fight with fellow artist Paul Gauguin, who was living with him at the time of the December 23rd, 1888 event.

~

It’s no secret van Gogh had his demons. They eventually cornered him into shooting himself in the chest, making a wound that would kill him a couple of days later. But what’s the scoop on this ear thing? I always assumed (read: believed what I’d read for decades) that he’d done the deed to himself in a rage of despair after Gauguin walked out on him. But according to a new study, reported by the London Telegraph:

Gauguin, an excellent fencer, was planning to leave Van Gogh’s “Yellow House” in Arles, southwestern France, after an unhappy stay.

He had walked out of the house with his baggage and his trusty épée in hand, but was followed by the troubled Van Gogh, who had earlier thrown a glass at him.

As the pair approached a bordello, their row intensified, and Gauguin cut off Van Gogh’s left earlobe with his sword – either in anger or self-defence.”

Muy interesante. Who says you don’t learn anything on the Interwebnet?

:-)

Got all your shopping done?

Addictive

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It’s the first day of my Christmas vacation. I love it. Well, I loved it until 5:30 a.m., when I stepped out onto my back porch to let Rousseau out, and promptly fell down the stairs. It was fantastic.

So I decided to treat myself to some coffee and extended quiet time, along with a huge dose of feeling sorry for myself and my sore ribs, janked back and neck, and smashed-up ankle. I ended up on FolkStreams.net, and got lost in a wonderful wildernesss for two hours.

I believe it’s crucial that our myriad social customs in America — age-old and often passed down by oral tradition only — be preserved before they’re irretrievably lost. The people at FolkStreams have put together a large collection of documentary films about anything and everything having to do with the American experience, and they’re all available for viewing online. Easy to disappear for hours, at least for me. From their site:

Folkstreams.net has two goals. One is to build a national preserve of hard-to-find documentary films about American folk or roots cultures. The other is to give them renewed life by streaming them on the internet. The films were produced by independent filmmakers in a golden age that began in the 1960s and was made possible by the development first of portable cameras and then capacity for synch sound. Their films focus on the culture, struggles, and arts of unnoticed Americans from many different regions and communities.”

This morning, I watched three films. One featured a group of black girls on a playground in 1968. The dynamic of play and interaction between them was fascinating. Then I watched a storyteller/singer spin the tale of Frankie Silver, a North Carolina woman who purportedly killed her husband and was hanged in 1833. Finally, I learned about gandy dancers on the railroads during the first half of the 20th century. Amazing stuff.

I highly recommend this site to anyone with an interest in little-known components of American cultural history; anything from old carnival barks to a cappella ballad singing in the Appalachians, to the Sacred Harp or Delta blues traditions. In some cases, these films — with priceless interviews and vintage film footage — are all that’s left.

I know it’s not Avatar or Sherlock Holmes, but satisfying and educational nonetheless. Thumbs up.

Happy Saturday — I’m off to replace the ice in my sock.

Fink ouch.

Crazy days

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On a cursory check, I found that this particular week (5 – 8 August, roughly) was quite busy historically.

I really, really hate conspiracies. I just want to know. Ya know? Marilyn’s death remains surrounded in mystery. Did she overdose by accident, or on purpose? Or was she really snuffed by the Kennedys? No one will ever know, I guess. And it’s probably safe to assume that anyone who might have known took the story to his/her grave.

Anyway, it was on this day — 5 August — in 1962 that Marilyn Monroe was found dead in her bungalow.

Tomorrow marks the anniversary of the 1945 bombing of Hiroshima. I don’t think kids today (or even those of us born in the 50s and 60s) realize the true horror of a catastrophe of this magnitude. Honestly. And I’m tellin ya: controlling nukes owned by crazy people = herding cats.

On the 7th is the anniversary of the foggy morning in 1974 when French athlete Philippe Petit illegally stepped out on a wire he and his mates strung between the two towers of the World Trade Center in New York. The Thriller and I finally got to see the movie about it, Man on Wire. You must see it to believe it.

The intrigue, blind faith, incredible audacity, celestial alignment and just plain dumb luck that combined to facilitate this stunt are simply not to be believed. Go rent this film today.

And on the very next day in the very same year (1974), Richard Nixon resigned the presidency. I vividly remember watching a replay of the announcement on the news the following evening, sitting with my dad in the living room. Another good movie: Frost/Nixon. We’ve seen it twice. Brilliant performances by Frank Langella as Nixon (he was nominated for an Oscar for the role) and Michael Sheen as David Frost.

Crazy days indeed. And now I’m off to my own crazy day. Ugh. Have a goody!

FO

Photo credits: 20th Century Fox; Magnolia Pictures

Now don’t go gettin all riled up.

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Cuz this ain’t about politics.

I noticed these images on a couple of blogs yesterday, and followed some links. It’s amazing (and gratifying) how visual art, after several millennia, still moves people to all manner of emotions.

A gaggle of different feelings will serve as reactions to the following picture. (You know the Law, so I ain’t interested in what those particular reactions are for you personally, or why. Just be nice and play my little game for today, k?)

Maybe this evokes less of a “convicted” response. I think it’s funny, myself:

Art has been controversial for centuries, but there was a time not too long ago when it was the only commercial visual stimulus available, and much attention was paid to its viewing, criticism and social commentary. I like art history — especially the periods which coincide with music history (Medieval, Renaissance, Baroque, Classical, Romantic, Impressionistic, Contemporary).

I won’t go into the whole of it, as I’d be writing all day instead of planning my glorious return to the school house, but imagine the shock of looking at this painting up close, when you hadn’t been raised on watching realistic reenactments of it on television:

Judith Slaying Holofernes, by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1618Artemisia (yep, a girl) painted several versions of this scene, over and over. Traditional misinformation classifies the painting as channelling the artist’s personal revenge against the men who humiliated her in her lifetime (she has an interesting story if you ever want to search it out), but in fact she maintained a closeness to the real story of Judith, who performed this grisly deed on an enemy general to scare his troops into retreating and leaving her people alone. Therefore, it’s more an indictment of tyranny than a kicking, screaming fit against the misogynistic ruling class of the day.

Interesting stuff.

Still, look at the determination on the women’s faces. Then look at Holofernes. How do you think the men of 1620 Italy reacted to it? And the women (though likely in secret)?

Did I mention I like visual art? It was the subject of one of my very first posts here at RtB. I could talk about it all day, really. Alas…

I found this quote from Artemisia herself:

An artist’s feeling is the white-hot core of painting…You’ve got to use your own emotions and paint with your own blood if need be in order to discover and prove the truth of your vision.”

If only we all felt that way about our own visions, eh?

FO

Free Trojan Association

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No, I’m not giving away warriors or infectious computer programs or, um…those other things. :-)

And no, I’m not writing a post about the Association of Free Trojans — if there actually is an Association of Free Trojans. Rather, I’ve deliberately misplaced the modifier to confuse you. Kidding again. I just have stuff to say about the word “trojan.”

Last night, while reading/researching, I ran into the word no fewer than three times. This, I surmised, was a sign: time to free-associate about trojans. [OK, I’m not *really* free-associating, but…you know.]

You hear the word “trojan” a lot; many times in connection with computer issues. There are three definitions one must keep separate in the virus/trojan/worm game, however (squeaky-clean, freshly-manicured Mac users, you can skip this section, although the Mighty Blue Apple has been known to get the occasional worm):

  • Virus: something your computer catches from an infected source, like media (CDs, portable drives, files).
  • Worm: a kind of virus spread mostly via networks.
  • Trojan: a bad piece of programming masquerading as something else

There are lots of schools that feature a Trojan warrior as their mascot. My school does. But I wonder how many people, when they think of a Trojan, first think about how the citizens of Troy got their collective butts kicked via the ultimate humiliation of the Trojan horse joke.

I would imagine a person’s first thought upon learning of the ruse dreamed up by Odysseus would be, What a buncha wankers. Well, if the knee-high strappy sandal fits…

They really bought it, lock and stock. Amazing. Different culture then, though. And really, how do we know Virgil didn’t make it all up? But still, I have to wonder when I see athletic teams called “Trojans” — why did they choose that mascot? I’m sure there were brave and powerful Trojan soldiers. But that’s not really their claim to fame.

Thus ends my Trojan association, but not my fondness for all things old. Take today, for instance. Tis a special day indeed. Behold the email I received from my fiend PK:

Hail, Mistress well met! I would remind thee that Thursday bringeth Talk Like Shakespeare day withal, to honor his birthday revels. Mayhaps it behooveth thee to visit yon web site:
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Well, mayhap I will.
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Finkus outus.