From the Shaanxi History Museum, Xi'an
Nature and Architecture
Here in the Yaowang retreat of Sun Simiao (see photo for 10 April), are two interesting examples of the symbiosis of nature and architecture. The first photo shows a tree which has over the centuries grown through a temple; and the second, below, shows an intriguing arch formed by a man-made shape and the tree shape.
©Edward Burman
Canova and Napoleon
A plaster cast of the bust of Napoleon by Antonio Canova (1757-1822) made in preparation for his marble ‘Napoleon as Mars the Peacemaker’, over three metres in height, commissioned by Napoleon in 1802 but now in the home of his nemesis the Duke of Wellington at Apsley House in London.
This cast is in the Galleria dell’Accademia in Venice, where the young man from nearby Possagno, a village just north of Asolo (in the foothills of the mountains seen in last week's photo), was a student. The Gipsoteca of Canova (literally "plaster-theque", on the model of discotheque), in his home village, is one of the many small museums in Italy which are more fascinating than we might imagine, and almost contemporary since the collection was put together in the 1830s by his step-brother soon after Canova's death.
©Edward Burman
Venice in winter
On a clear winter's day, Mestre is visible to the left, the airport straight ahead across the lagoon, and snow on the Dolomites in the distance.
©Edward Burman
William Shakespeare, died 23 April 1616
Shakespeare's grave in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford-Upon-Avon (with that of his wife Anne to the left)
©Edward Burman
Monument above the grave showing Shakespeare with pen in hand, added a few years after his death
©Edward Burman
See Blog, 23 April 2016, for comment.
Screen with boxing scenes, Lord Byron's home, Newstead Abbey, Nottinghamshire
©Edward Burman
Bare-knuckle boxing was widespread and popular until the Marquess of Queensbury Rules of 1867 made the use of gloves obligatory. Holding and throwing opponents were both permitted under earlier rules, established in 1743 by a fighter called Jack Boughton. Under those rules there was no break in fighting, like modern breaks between rounds, until one of the boxers went down - either knocked down or thrown down. It is enjoying a revived popularity today with knuckles just taped rather than gloved.
Byron was apparently a good boxer whilst at Harrow, and remained an enthusiast throughout his life. He took lessons and sparred with one of the most celebrated boxers of the time, John ‘Gentleman’ Jackson, who had a fashionable "studio" in Bond Street where men of all social classes used to go for lessons and sparring sessions. Byron called him the "Emperor of Pugilism", and even invited him to visit Newstead Abbey.
Byron paid £250 for the screen, which has portraits of several well-known boxers and boxing scenes. The boxer to the right here is very obviously bare-knuckled and could possibly be Jackson himself - to judge from his gentlemanly shoes.
“I have been sparring with Jackson for exercise this morning … My chest, and arms, and wind are in very good plight, and I am not in flesh. I used to be a hard hitter, and my arms are very long for my height (5 feet 8 ⅓ inches). At any rate, exercise is good and this the severest of all.
”
Sun Simiao
©Edward Burman; April 2016
One of the four corners of a square shrine within the residence of Sun Simiao at Yaowang Mountain, in Tongchuan, north of Xi’an, each of which has a large representation of an acupuncture needle hanging from the eaves.
Sun Simiao was one of the masters of ancient Chinese medicine whose two thirty-volume works are key documents in its history, especially his chapter ‘On the Absolute Sincerity of Great Physicians’, which is considered the Chinese equivalent of the Hippocratic Oath.
He retired to this mountain, whose name “Yao Wang” means “Medicine King” (yao being herbal medicine), and died here in 682 AD.
Venice again
Venice is also colour and music (essential elements of theatre), here united in this lovely androgynous lute-player at the foot of Vittorio Carpaccio’s four-metre tall Presentation of Jesus at the Temple (1510), in the Galleria dell’Accademia in Venice. Wonderful reds and blues, and the pink cheeks of the young lutenist - as if embarrassed by the presence of the photographer!
©Edward Burman
Tiepolo & Theatre
©Edward Burman; March 2016
This restored fresco in the Accademia in Venice, titled “Devoti affacciati ad una loggia” (Devotees looking out from a loggia), was painted by Giambattista Tiepolo (1696-1770) - who was once President of the Academy - and his collaborator Girolamo Mengozzi (1688-1774). Positioned high up on the ceiling as it was in the original building (the fresco was removed intact, and then installed here), it’s a striking composition with its delicate colours and the way in which brilliant use of perspective opens up a series of arches behind the main figure in blue.
But even more striking to my eye is the way in which even the painted marble figure above the niche (whose wings suggest an angel) seems to be participating in the devotion.
It’s pure Venetian theatre.
Interestingly, Mengozzi also worked as a scenic designer for theatres in Venice.
Persian tea-house
This semi-underground tea-house, or chay-khaneh, in Kerman in south-east Iran was built in 1820 within the traditional bath-house of Hamam-e Valik. In 1978, when this photograph was taken, it was a quiet refuge from summer heat and an elegant respite after a day driving over desert tracks. Now it seems to have become a restaurant with live music, and with new blue furniture.
©Edward Burman
I’m not sure about the origins and precedence, but clearly Persian chay and Chinese cha are related, as are the words for tea-house: cha-guan (茶館) and chay-khaneh (چای خانه).
Santo Spirito di Ocre
©Edward Burman
An atmospheric late-afternoon shot of the fortified monastery of Santo Spirito di Ocre (taken on March 1st), on a dramatic site in the mountains near L’Aquila.
The monastery was founded in 1222 by Count Berardo of Ocre, of the powerful family of the Conti della Marsica which collectively controlled around a hundred castles between Umbria and Puglia. It was donated to a hermit called Beato Placido who lived in a cave in the rocks near the site and beneath the castle of Ocre which belonged to the count's family. It later passed to the Cistercian Order, but was always a mysterious place and unlike other Cistercian houses in plan. It was closed and deconsecrated by a Bull of Pope Innocent X, promulgated on 15 October 1652 as the result of unspecified heretical practices, and then abandoned for centuries. Until a few years ago it was the object of pilgrimage by local occultists, but has recently been restored.
Two Steeples in London
©Edward Burman
St Clement Danes, 10 May 1941 (photo in the public domain)
The present church of St Clement Danes, in the foreground of this photograph, was completed in 1682 by the great architect Sir Christopher Wren (1632-1723), with a steeple added to its square tower nearly forty years later by the equally great Scottish architect James Gibbs (1682-1754). Miraculously, the tower and steeple survived the fire which gutted the church during a bombing raid on the night of 10 May 1941.
Behind it is the imposing complex of the Royal Courts of Justice, designed by George Edmund Street (1824-1881) and completed a year after his death. The photo is taken from the same spot as that seen here to the right taken after the 1941 attack, with the steeple of the Courts of Law forming a backdrop to St Clement Danes although the rest of the buildings are invisible.
San Francesco, Pavia, from Brick and Marble in the Middle Ages, London: John Murray, 1874.
It’s an unusual view, and fascinating because these two towers with their steeples form the basis of an intriguing contrast between classical and gothic styles in London in a single shot.
On St Clement Danes, Gibbs was clearly influenced by Borromini and the towers of St Agnese in Rome amongst others, from the time he studied there under Carlo Fontana (who had himself worked with Borromini); the Courts of Law tower was equally influenced by the Gothic-style pinnacles which Street sketched during a tour of northern Italy, used as illustrations for his fascinating and detailed study Brick and Marble in the Middle Ages (1874), from which the illustration on the right is taken. In many of the other architectural sketches in the book he focuses on pinnacles and steeples.
Fontecchio
A few days ago I had the chance to revisit a favourite village in the mountains east of Rome, near l'Aquila, and see the marvellous late-fourteenth century fountain again. It stands just outside the fortified gate which leads into the medieval village, on a square which opens towards the mountains beyond, and is itself overlooked by a small gothic-style shrine.
©Edward Burman
Below is a detail of one of the four masks on the central column of the fountain which decorate the spouts.
©Edward Burman
Two Lincolnshire churches
The village of Somersby, in the Lincolnshire Wolds, counts hardly more than a dozen houses, and the nearby village of Bag Enderby even fewer. Yet both are interesting since the father of the great poet Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), the Poet Laureate, was the Rector of the two village churches for over twenty years. Oddly enough, they are both dedicated to St Margaret.
St Margaret's, Somersby
©Edward Burman
Alfred was born in Somersby, and baptised in St Margaret’s, which is opposite what was then the rectory and family home. He lived in the village for much of the next thirty years.
They both date in their present form from the 15th century, although the Somersby church is thought to go back to the twelfth century. They are build of local sandstone, and are delightful and relatively untouched examples of remote country churches.
St Margaret's, Bag Enderby
©Edward Burman
Turnstile
Hidden away in a quite residential area of Cambridge, a short walk from the Botanical Gardens, is a surprising survival of the Cold War, an anti-nuclear-bomb bunker complex built in the 1950s, and then extended further in the early 1960s. It's a disturbing presence in 2016.
The ivy-clad bunker seen from the street, with the entrance on the left.
©Edward Burman
In the event of a nuclear attack on Britain, government would continue in the Central Government Wartime Headquarters, codenamed (with a hint of Jason Bourne) ‘Turnstile’. A detailed War Book, leading ministers and hundreds of other politicians, civil servants and military officers through incredibly detailed and disturbing procedures, explained how the country would be divided into eleven regional command areas - one, fortunately, in Cambridge - to do their best for survivors without home, family, food, or future. This is where Cambridge and East Anglia would be run by those lucky enough to be admitted. It was less than a four-minute rush from government offices then located on Brooklands Avenue, so that there would be time to get there safely. Even the steps up to the bunker entrance faced the direction of the offices, to save time and facilitate entry.
“an alternative centre to London for authorising nuclear retaliation”
The entrance, where the thickness of the concrete walls can be clearly seen.
©Edward Burman
Shard?
It’s known as the Shard, designed by the Italian architect Renzo Piano and at 309 metres the tallest building in the EU, with a wonderful viewing gallery on the 72nd floor and several up-market bars and restaurants as well as a Shangri-la hotel.
Piano himself conceived it as a church spire, which were once the tallest buildings in every town and city, and in the 18th century created the skyline of London itself. Unfortunately, the organisation English Heritage, which looks after around four hundred historical buildings and monuments, referred to it rather hyperbolically as a shard of glass cutting through the heart of London. The name stuck. But in fact Piano, who was after all born in the great port city of Genova, had also always though of his buildings in terms of sails, and of flying, as he said four years ago in a newspaper interview.
“If you ask me what is a kind of constant with me it is this idea of making a building fly – creating something with zero gravity. Maybe this is why I love sailing so much. Sailing is not just about the wind, it is about the boat, and its buoyancy and its lightness, and maybe, yes, the Shard is like that.”
©Edward Burman
Without knowing this, I had always thought of its as a sail. Then, recently, on a water-bus going downstream towards Greenwich an elegant yacht happened to pass and the gleaming white of its beautifully shaped sail was highlighted against a dark and brooding London sky. For an instant, they were perfect twins as if echoing the two towers of Tower bridge.
More than a shard, it reminded me of the shimmering white of the hotel Burj Al Arab in Dubai, designed by the British architect Tom Atkins, especially in the perspective of this photograph which I took from the Jumeirah in 2008. It’s lower, 210 metres, and of course the sail shape is more deliberate. But the highest part of the most is strikingly similar to that of the “Shard”.
©Edward Burman
The Sail would be a better name, but it's too late now and even Renzo Piano calls it the Shard.