Dr. Michael Guillen, in his book Five Equations that Changed the World (Hachette, 1995) succeeds in making five important equations easy to grasp and even entertaining to read about. None of the equations he's chosen is especially difficult to understand, and the book might be faulted by some for trying to make things a little too approachable, but Guillen's writing only occasionally feels condescending.
The book is divided into five sections, one for each of the equations. Each essay is itself divided into five parts—a prologue that relates an incident in the life of the man at the center of the story (and they are all men) intended, as the author says, to "set the tone for what is to follow;" sections headed Vini, Vidi, and Vici; and an epilogue. The vini (I came) sections describe how the hero of the story recognizes the problem that his theory solves. The vidi (I saw) sections attempt to explain why the problem was important. The vici (I conquered) sections describe how the protagonist arrived at the equation that solved the central problem developed in each section.
The hero of the first essay is Sir Isaac Newton. The equation discussed is his Universal Law of Gravitation, written as , where F stands for the gravitational force acting between two objects, m for mass (of the two objects in question), r for the distance between their centers of mass, and G for the gravitational constant, an example of an inverse square equation. The law was revolutionary in that it flew directly in the face of the idea that different rules applied to the earthly and heavenly realms. Guillen draws a direct line from Newton's realization that gravity acts
the same way throughout the Universe to the landing of astronauts on the
moon about 300 years later.
The second essay discusses Daniel Bernoulli's Law of Hydrodynamic Pressure, which deals with the pressure in a flow of liquid. It was Bernoulli's insight that as a fluid moves more quickly, its pressure declines and vice versa. While Bernoulli was concerned with liquids, airplanes (and birds) fly because the shape of an airfoil (whether natural or a man-made) causes air (in essence a very thin liquid) to flow more quickly over its curved upper surface than along its lower surface. Accompanying the speed differential is a pressure differential. Wings produce lift because the slower air flowing below them exerts more pressure than the faster air flowing over them.
The third essay tells the story of Michael Faraday's rise to prominence from humble beginnings and his Law of Electromagnetic Inductance, which Guillen writes as . According to other sources that is actually a modified form of Faraday's original law, this version known as the Maxwell-Faraday Equation, and I noticed that in other instances the forms Guillen uses are not necessarily those most familiar to us (for example, he gives E = mc2 as E = m x c2). However stated, the core idea and Faraday's insight was that magnetism and electricity are two sides of the same coin—that electric currents produce magnetic fields and that, conversely, a changing magnetic field generates electric current
in a conductor. Essentially, he recognized the principles behind dynamos and electric motors, and, once large reliable supplies of electricity became available, electric motors performed work far more efficiently than steam engines, important as steam engines had been. This essay dwells in some detail on the difficulties Faraday faced as a member of the lower classes (originally apprenticed as a book binder) in the English science establishment of his day dominated by wealthy gentleman scholars.
Rudolf Clausius, the subject of the fourth essay, is a less familiar figure than the others, but his Second Law of Thermodynamics is well known. Heat fascinated him. His breakthrough was understanding that cold things
normally never become cold on their own, that natural temperature flows always go from warmer to colder—or, more formally stated: "heat always flows spontaneously from hotter to colder bodies, and never
the reverse, unless external work is performed on the system" (from the Wikipedia article "Second Law of Thermodynamics"). By extension, he realized that energy changes and temperature changes were, again, two sides of one coin: they were changes in entropy.
The final essay, on Einstein's E = mc2 was particularly interesting, I thought, as it explained why Einstein started thinking along the lines that eventually led him to his conclusion about the interchangeability of energy and matter. According to Guillen, Einstein had understood that if you could travel as fast as sound waves emanating from a certain spot (only about 767mph) that you would cease to hear them because you would be moving away from their point of origin as quickly as they were; they would never reach you. Einstein apparently wanted to know what light would look like if you could travel at the speed of light away from a light source (almost 671 million mph, but more commonly given as 300,000m/sec). Ultimately, he concluded that the gravitational effects associated with travel at that speed would make it impossible to move so quickly and that light performs the feat because the photon is the only known particle believed to be pure energy and thus mass-less (and therefore not subject to gravity). Einstein decided that space and time are forced to change in such a way that the speed of light never changes—in short that space and time are mutable and everything, except light, is relative. An entertaining read if the history of science lights your lamp.
Monday, February 25, 2019
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 213 (Santa Rosa)
Another comparatively large collage. I was in a dry spell, collage-wise, from the end of last year and into the start of this year, but recently I've started making more monotypes again, and that has led to some new collage work.
This is Untitled Collage No. 213 (Santa Rosa). February 12, 2019. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, graphite, collage. Image size: 28.1 x 37.5cm (11.1 x 14.8 inches). Matted to 20 x 24 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
This is Untitled Collage No. 213 (Santa Rosa). February 12, 2019. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, graphite, collage. Image size: 28.1 x 37.5cm (11.1 x 14.8 inches). Matted to 20 x 24 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms: Daffodils, Pink Flowering Plum 2019
The yellow daffodils in front of the house and the pink flowering plum behind the house generally bloom at about the same time each year. This year, the first daffodils opened on February 6. The first flowers on the plum (Prunus blireiana) opened on February 9. Early to mid-February is normal for both plants.
They have bloomed between February 2 and about February 20 in a typical
year in the past. A storm is on the way that is supposed to drop as much as 10 inches of rain in the coming seven days. I hope these blossoms aren't all lost before we've had a chance to enjoy them.
Serendipitous Art: Red Tape Line on a Black Floor (February 23, 2019)
A line of orange-red tape on a battered, black floor. Serendipitous art.
Click on the image for a larger view. For more unintended art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.
Click on the image for a larger view. For more unintended art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Rain: Heavy Rain Continues (February 13, 2019)
We've been in the middle of another storm last night and so far today. The storm system and other rain since last reporting here has added another two inches to our total, but it's still raining. Therefore, we've had at least 23 inches so far, but I will update this precisely after the storm passes.
[STILL raining: As of 10:00AM on February 14 we've had 4.5 inches of new rain at my location since my last post here. I'm updating here because the gauge goes to only five inches. So, as of this morning, our total stands at 25.80 inches. That puts us ahead of the historical average, which is just under 24 inches for this date in Santa Rosa.]
[Update: As of 4:30 today (February 16) we've had another 1.3 inches since last reporting. Our total is now 27.10 inches.]
[STILL raining: As of 10:00AM on February 14 we've had 4.5 inches of new rain at my location since my last post here. I'm updating here because the gauge goes to only five inches. So, as of this morning, our total stands at 25.80 inches. That puts us ahead of the historical average, which is just under 24 inches for this date in Santa Rosa.]
[Update: As of 4:30 today (February 16) we've had another 1.3 inches since last reporting. Our total is now 27.10 inches.]
Friday, February 8, 2019
Art I'm Making: Untitled Collage No. 212 (Santa Rosa)
Just when I thought I had no more collages in me, I started making new monotypes yesterday and one thing led to another....
This one doesn't photograph well. The subtleties in the rice paper area get lost a little, but the image here is a reasonable facsimile. I think too often we forget that photographs of art, while they allow a general impression, are never a substitute for seeing the real thing.
This one doesn't photograph well. The subtleties in the rice paper area get lost a little, but the image here is a reasonable facsimile. I think too often we forget that photographs of art, while they allow a general impression, are never a substitute for seeing the real thing.
Untitled Collage No. 212 (Santa Rosa), my first collage so far in 2019. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, found paper (antique rice paper, found letter with fragments of stamps, handmade paper sample), collage. Image size: 28.0 x 37.5cm (11.0 x 14.8 inches). Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
For more, see my website at http://ctalcroft.wixsite.com/collage-site
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Books I'm Reading: On Photography
Having just read Susan Sontag's Against Interpretation and Other Essays, I felt inspired to finally read her collection called On Photography. I read an old Delta paperback edition (1978—apparently the first paperback edition) that I picked up used somewhere ages ago; although I thought I had a newer edition somewhere. No matter, the content is the same, although newer editions may have worthwhile ancillary material attached. It's a shame that Sontag didn't live long enough to add thoughts in the age of smartphones, Facebook, and Instagram.
This was much easier going than Against Interpretation—not because it is somehow lacking in depth, breadth, or rigor of thought—but simply because the subject matter is so much more familiar to me. I'm able to immediately see in my mind virtually all the images she mentions, none of which are shown in the text (I wonder if there's an illustrated edition?). I know the photographers she mentions. I know most of the history. But this is not about the history of photography or about the work of specific photographers except as useful for the purposes of supporting an argument.
The essays (six of them, although together they read as a single narrative) are mostly about the function of photography within human culture, and virtually every page has something worthwhile to say about the subject. Sontag talks about how photography relates to painting, to travel and tourism, about the way photography levels all events by transforming them into physical records, about ethical issues faced by documentary photographers and war correspondents, about the paradoxical way photographs can shock by exposing what is normally unseen while at the same time anesthetizing us to the shocking through repeated exposure, and about the way photography has come to shape the way we view and understand environments, both natural and man made.
Ultimately, she suggests that photography has usurped reality--that we have become more comfortable relating to images of the world than to the world itself. She was prescient. She had this insight when images were more pervasive than they'd ever been yet still far fewer and far more difficult to create than they are today. In 1977, making a photographic image usually involved film sent out for processing. There was typically a lag of at least several hours--sometimes as long as a week--between composing a photograph and seeing it. Polaroid cameras were available, but even at the height of their popularity and availability, most images were not made with instant cameras (and a Polaroid image took several minutes to appear). Today, virtually any phone handset can produce an image in seconds and that image can be made visible to hundreds of millions of viewers just as quickly. What would Sontag have had to say?
[A few days later I found the more recent edition I was pretty sure I had (Picador, 1990). The text is identical to the text of the version I read. No illustrations have been added, and there is no additional content. ]
This was much easier going than Against Interpretation—not because it is somehow lacking in depth, breadth, or rigor of thought—but simply because the subject matter is so much more familiar to me. I'm able to immediately see in my mind virtually all the images she mentions, none of which are shown in the text (I wonder if there's an illustrated edition?). I know the photographers she mentions. I know most of the history. But this is not about the history of photography or about the work of specific photographers except as useful for the purposes of supporting an argument.
The essays (six of them, although together they read as a single narrative) are mostly about the function of photography within human culture, and virtually every page has something worthwhile to say about the subject. Sontag talks about how photography relates to painting, to travel and tourism, about the way photography levels all events by transforming them into physical records, about ethical issues faced by documentary photographers and war correspondents, about the paradoxical way photographs can shock by exposing what is normally unseen while at the same time anesthetizing us to the shocking through repeated exposure, and about the way photography has come to shape the way we view and understand environments, both natural and man made.
Ultimately, she suggests that photography has usurped reality--that we have become more comfortable relating to images of the world than to the world itself. She was prescient. She had this insight when images were more pervasive than they'd ever been yet still far fewer and far more difficult to create than they are today. In 1977, making a photographic image usually involved film sent out for processing. There was typically a lag of at least several hours--sometimes as long as a week--between composing a photograph and seeing it. Polaroid cameras were available, but even at the height of their popularity and availability, most images were not made with instant cameras (and a Polaroid image took several minutes to appear). Today, virtually any phone handset can produce an image in seconds and that image can be made visible to hundreds of millions of viewers just as quickly. What would Sontag have had to say?
[A few days later I found the more recent edition I was pretty sure I had (Picador, 1990). The text is identical to the text of the version I read. No illustrations have been added, and there is no additional content. ]
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Rain: New Storms in Early February
Storms moving through the area yesterday and today have so far dropped 1.3 inches of new precipitation. That brings the total at my location in northwest Santa Rosa so far to 20.10 inches for the 2018-2019 rain year (which runs through October 31, 2019), about an inch below the historical average for the first week of February, but it's still raining....
[Update: Subsequent rain added 1.20 inches of precipitation. That brings the total now to 21.30 inches as of noon February 5, 2019)]
[Update: Subsequent rain added 1.20 inches of precipitation. That brings the total now to 21.30 inches as of noon February 5, 2019)]
Friday, February 1, 2019
Miscellaneous: Slate-colored Junco (February 1, 2019)
I had an unusual visitor in the garden today--a Slate-colored Junco, a Junco variety usually more at home on the East Coast and around the US-Canadian border east of the Rocky Mountains (our local "Oregon Junco" has a brownish back and flanks). Although a few of these all-grey birds turn up here every year and they aren't really rare, they are uncommon and I've never seen one this dark before (even in the East).
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Books I'm Reading: Susan Sontag's Against Interpretation and Other Essays
I finally got around to reading Susan Sontag's Against Interpretation and Other Essays, which appears to have remained in print since its initial publication in 1966. I read a Picador paperback edition of uncertain date (pictured). It looks like 1990, but it's hard to tell from the front matter. Whatever the year, my copy is from the 21st printing in this format.
It's easy to see why this collection continues to interest readers—why the publishers continue to make it available: although the essays here are from 1961 to 1966, making even the most recent more than 50 years old, they've held up well. While they are clearly of their time (and, in part, fascinating for that reason), they do not feel dated in the sense of no longer having much relevance or of being outmoded in style. Sontag writes charmingly, her familiarity with a wide range of philosophy, literature, theater, and film is impressive, and her thinking is lucid. On top of that, she had pretty good taste. I found the essays engaging even when they dealt with writers I've never read (or never even heard of in a couple of instances) and films I've yet to see. Reading Against Interpretation and Other Essays has given me another reason to delve into classic French cinema and to get around to reading Sartre, Camus, and their ilk. So many books, so little time, as they say. I most enjoyed the title essay, "Against Interpretation," her discussion of science fiction films, the piece about "happenings," and the collection of thoughts entitled "Notes on 'Camp'." Next, I plan to read Sontag's On Photography, a book I've been meaning to read for years.
Coincidentally, I recently (just this week) stumbled upon kanopy, an online film-streaming service that gives free access to a large selection of high-quality films through the public library system. All that's required is a public library card to get a pass to watch up to 10 films a month free (at least with a San Francisco Library card; limits differ from library to library apparently). Once you select a film, you can watch it as many times as you want for three days. I've already added most of the classics of French cinema Sontag discusses to my watch list.
It's easy to see why this collection continues to interest readers—why the publishers continue to make it available: although the essays here are from 1961 to 1966, making even the most recent more than 50 years old, they've held up well. While they are clearly of their time (and, in part, fascinating for that reason), they do not feel dated in the sense of no longer having much relevance or of being outmoded in style. Sontag writes charmingly, her familiarity with a wide range of philosophy, literature, theater, and film is impressive, and her thinking is lucid. On top of that, she had pretty good taste. I found the essays engaging even when they dealt with writers I've never read (or never even heard of in a couple of instances) and films I've yet to see. Reading Against Interpretation and Other Essays has given me another reason to delve into classic French cinema and to get around to reading Sartre, Camus, and their ilk. So many books, so little time, as they say. I most enjoyed the title essay, "Against Interpretation," her discussion of science fiction films, the piece about "happenings," and the collection of thoughts entitled "Notes on 'Camp'." Next, I plan to read Sontag's On Photography, a book I've been meaning to read for years.
Coincidentally, I recently (just this week) stumbled upon kanopy, an online film-streaming service that gives free access to a large selection of high-quality films through the public library system. All that's required is a public library card to get a pass to watch up to 10 films a month free (at least with a San Francisco Library card; limits differ from library to library apparently). Once you select a film, you can watch it as many times as you want for three days. I've already added most of the classics of French cinema Sontag discusses to my watch list.
Serendipitous Art: Windowpane Landscape (January 31, 2019)
A green windowsill and a cloudy sky in a windowpane looked like a landscape to me, looked like art to me. Serendipitous art.
Click on the image for a larger view. For more unintended art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.
Click on the image for a larger view. For more unintended art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.
Music I'm Listening To: Johannes Moser with the San Francisco Symphony (January 25, 2018)
I first heard of and heard cellist Johannes Moser when he appeared with Edward Gardner conducting the Santa Rosa Symphony, in 2007. He played Elgar's Cello Concerto. I don't have the clearest memory of that performance (it was a year before I started writing this blog) but I do remember thinking he was outstanding. I subsequently looked for him often, but he seems to perform mostly in Europe. So, I was thrilled to learn that he would be among the guest artists performing with the San Francisco Symphony this year (his debut with the Symphony). I attended the January 25 performance, which included Richard Strauss's Don Juan, Lutoslawski's Cello Concerto, with Moser the soloist, and Prokofiev's Symphony No. 5. Resident conductor Christian Reiff on the podium did a very creditable job, I thought.
I don't know Don Juan well, but Reiff had the piece well in hand from the get-go. Never a dull moment. The energy was remarkable. Too often the opening piece on a program serves as a warm-up with nothing quite gelled. Not so in this case. The same energy was present throughout the Lutoslawski and after intermission.
The Lutoslawski concerto is a fairly obscure piece by a composer even many classical music enthusiasts don't know well, but I'm quite familiar with it, having many years ago purchased a CD of Rostropovich playing the concerto (along with Dutilleaux's Cello Concerto--EMI CDC 7 49304 2). The piece was written for Rostropovich (premiered by him in London in 1970). Although I've heard it many times, I'd never seen it performed before. In a letter from Lutoslawski to Rostropovich (quoted in the liner notes to the EMI recording and in the San Francisco Symphony program for the Johannes Moser performance), the piece is described as a kind of battle between the soloist and the orchestra. Although the Cello Concerto opens rather languidly with a repeated single note on the cello (which Lutoslawski says in the letter to Rostropovich is to be played in an "inexpressive (indifferent) manner" things quickly escalate and Moser not only played the music, he played the piece rather theatrically—pugnaciously—jabbing and sawing, with every stroke in the aggressive sections seemingly a deliberate provocation aimed at the orchestra, which gave as good as it got. I was reminded of the famous description of the premiere performance of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto by unsympathetic critic Eduard Hanslick who complained that 'The violin is no longer played; it is pulled, torn, drubbed." While that was intended as a criticism, what a spirited and delightful performance Moser gave us. He had the audience giggling in places at his antics on stage, but never did he let the presentation get in the way of his tautly precise playing. He was marvelous. A memorable performance. Among the best I've seen in San Francisco—and that's saying a lot. I hope we'll see more of Moser here.
As an encore, he played a section of one of the Bach Cello Suites, introducing the piece by saying "And now for something completely different," which got another laugh. After the concert I had the pleasure of speaking with him briefly. I regret not asking him if all performers are so expressive when playing the Lutoslawski, but he remembered his performance with the Santa Rosa Symphony years ago and seemed pleased that I had enjoyed it and mentioned it and come back to see him. He autographed a CD for me and even added a doodle of himself playing the cello.
I thought Reiff handled the Prokofiev well, particularly the second movement, which I think among the most thrilling symphony movements ever written, when done well. Although I thought the first movement a little unsettled in places and I think the second movement should be launched into right away, while the tones of the first are still ringing in the ears (audience applause prevented this), overall, it was a fine performance. That second movement soars. It has a remarkable buoyancy and an irresistible momentum—again, when done right—and Reiff achieved that. It's a feeling few other pieces can generate, although I've had the same sensation when listening to the final movement of Dvorak's "American" quartet and in places in Schumann's Cello Concerto. It creates something of the thrill of effortless skiing—a rapid but relaxed, floating, forward motion. Again, this concert was a standout among the many fine concerts I've had the pleasure of attending recently.
I don't know Don Juan well, but Reiff had the piece well in hand from the get-go. Never a dull moment. The energy was remarkable. Too often the opening piece on a program serves as a warm-up with nothing quite gelled. Not so in this case. The same energy was present throughout the Lutoslawski and after intermission.
The Lutoslawski concerto is a fairly obscure piece by a composer even many classical music enthusiasts don't know well, but I'm quite familiar with it, having many years ago purchased a CD of Rostropovich playing the concerto (along with Dutilleaux's Cello Concerto--EMI CDC 7 49304 2). The piece was written for Rostropovich (premiered by him in London in 1970). Although I've heard it many times, I'd never seen it performed before. In a letter from Lutoslawski to Rostropovich (quoted in the liner notes to the EMI recording and in the San Francisco Symphony program for the Johannes Moser performance), the piece is described as a kind of battle between the soloist and the orchestra. Although the Cello Concerto opens rather languidly with a repeated single note on the cello (which Lutoslawski says in the letter to Rostropovich is to be played in an "inexpressive (indifferent) manner" things quickly escalate and Moser not only played the music, he played the piece rather theatrically—pugnaciously—jabbing and sawing, with every stroke in the aggressive sections seemingly a deliberate provocation aimed at the orchestra, which gave as good as it got. I was reminded of the famous description of the premiere performance of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto by unsympathetic critic Eduard Hanslick who complained that 'The violin is no longer played; it is pulled, torn, drubbed." While that was intended as a criticism, what a spirited and delightful performance Moser gave us. He had the audience giggling in places at his antics on stage, but never did he let the presentation get in the way of his tautly precise playing. He was marvelous. A memorable performance. Among the best I've seen in San Francisco—and that's saying a lot. I hope we'll see more of Moser here. As an encore, he played a section of one of the Bach Cello Suites, introducing the piece by saying "And now for something completely different," which got another laugh. After the concert I had the pleasure of speaking with him briefly. I regret not asking him if all performers are so expressive when playing the Lutoslawski, but he remembered his performance with the Santa Rosa Symphony years ago and seemed pleased that I had enjoyed it and mentioned it and come back to see him. He autographed a CD for me and even added a doodle of himself playing the cello.
I thought Reiff handled the Prokofiev well, particularly the second movement, which I think among the most thrilling symphony movements ever written, when done well. Although I thought the first movement a little unsettled in places and I think the second movement should be launched into right away, while the tones of the first are still ringing in the ears (audience applause prevented this), overall, it was a fine performance. That second movement soars. It has a remarkable buoyancy and an irresistible momentum—again, when done right—and Reiff achieved that. It's a feeling few other pieces can generate, although I've had the same sensation when listening to the final movement of Dvorak's "American" quartet and in places in Schumann's Cello Concerto. It creates something of the thrill of effortless skiing—a rapid but relaxed, floating, forward motion. Again, this concert was a standout among the many fine concerts I've had the pleasure of attending recently.
Friday, January 25, 2019
Art I'm Making: Recent Collages
I say in the headline "recent collages" but I've come to a point where I feel like I've done with collage what I can do with collage. I know there are an infinite number of potential works that I might create, but I've lost the intense feeling of urgency about experimenting. This has been typical of me in the past. There was a period when photography was my obsession, a period of intense woodblock and other kinds of printmaking, a period of oil painting, most recently this phase of collage-making. The collage phase lasted almost five years--much longer than usual (although I've never really stopped photography since I began at the age of about eight). The printmaking phase lasted about two years, painting and drawing about the same. I guess I need to take breaks between periods of activity. At the moment, my attention is mostly on making cyanotypes, which, so far, have proved far more difficult than I anticipated. For the time being, though, I post here my three most recent collages.
Above is Untitled Collage No. 209 (Santa Rosa), October 9, 2018, Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 14.6 x11.0cm (5.7 x 4.3 inches). Matted to 14 x 11 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
Below that is Untitled Collage No. 210 (Santa Rosa), October 20, 2018, Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 17.5 x21.3cm (6.9 x 8.4 inches). Matted to 16 x 20 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
And below that is Untitled Collage No. 211 (Santa Rosa), November 24, 2018, Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 11.2 x 6.6cm (4.4 x 2.6 inches). Matted to 11 x 14 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
Above is Untitled Collage No. 209 (Santa Rosa), October 9, 2018, Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 14.6 x11.0cm (5.7 x 4.3 inches). Matted to 14 x 11 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
Below that is Untitled Collage No. 210 (Santa Rosa), October 20, 2018, Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 17.5 x21.3cm (6.9 x 8.4 inches). Matted to 16 x 20 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
And below that is Untitled Collage No. 211 (Santa Rosa), November 24, 2018, Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, collage. Image size: 11.2 x 6.6cm (4.4 x 2.6 inches). Matted to 11 x 14 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse.
Miscellaneous: Another Indictment--Roger Stone
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| Photo: Drew Angerer/Getty Images |
I don't have the resources to independently confirm any of the following, which I found in a comment today on the Roger Stone arrest, but nothing here contradicts anything I've read from reliable sources. It's quite remarkable when you lay it out like this. I post it with no further comment except to suggest that impeachment is overdue.
That said, there are arguments supporting the idea that an electoral defeat in 2020 and then arrest would be a greater and more appropriate humiliation for a man who appears to so richly deserve to get his come-uppance.
Hillary Clinton Benghazi "Investigation"
4 years
0 indictments
0 convictions
Hillary Clinton E-mail "Investigation"
2 years
0 indictments
0 convictions
Trump-Russia Investigation
15 months
34 Indictments/charges--and counting (Individuals)
3 Indictments/charges (Companies)
5 GUILTY pleas (and counting)
4 CONVICTIONS (and counting)
Indicted: Roger Stone
Indicted: Paul Manafort
Indicted: Rick Gates
Indicted: George Papadopoulos
Indicted: Michael Flynn
Indicted: Michael Cohen
Indicted: Richard Pinedo
Indicted: Alex van der Zwaan
Indicted: Konstantin Kilimnik
Indicted: 12 Russian GRU officers
Indicted: Yevgeny Prigozhin
Indicted: Mikhail Burchik
Indicted: Aleksandra Krylova
Indicted: Anna Bogacheva
Indicted: Sergey Polozov
Indicted: Maria Bovda
Indicted: Dzheykhun Aslanov
Indicted: Vadim Podkopaev
Indicted: Irina Kaverzina
Indicted: Gleb Vasilchenko
Indicted: Internet Research Agency
Indicted: Concord Management
Guilty Plea: Michael Flynn
Guilty Plea: Michael Cohen
Guilty Plea: George Papadopolous
Guilty Plea: Richard Pinedo
Guilty Plea: Alex van der Zwaan
Guilty Plea: Rick Gates
Over 191 Criminal Charges (and counting):
Conspiracy against the USA (2 counts)
Conspiracy to launder money (2 counts)
Bank fraud (8 counts)
Bank fraud conspiracy (10 counts)
Subscribing to false tax returns (10 counts)
Making false statements (6 counts)
Failure to file reports of foreign bank accounts (14 counts)
Unregistered agent of a foreign principal (2 counts)
False FARA statements (2 counts)
Subscribing to false tax returns (10 counts)
Assisting in preparation of false tax documents (5 counts)
Conspiracy to defraud the United States (13 counts)
Conspiracy to commit wire fraud and bank fraud (2 counts)
Aggravated identity theft (24 counts)
For further information, here is a link to a NY Times article on the subject. This article was originally published in February 2018 but has been updated online repeatedly. The last update was January 25, 2019, so it is current as of today.
For further information, here is a link to a NY Times article on the subject. This article was originally published in February 2018 but has been updated online repeatedly. The last update was January 25, 2019, so it is current as of today.
Monday, January 21, 2019
Music I'm Listening To: So Many Concerts
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| Musician's case backstage at The Green Music Center |
Concerts I've failed to mention include an extraordinary performance of Ravel's Bolero, Friday October 19, 2018 in San Francisco with Pablo Heras-Casado conducting the San Francisco Symphony (I can't remember what else was on the program). Bolero is extremely familiar, but I'd never heard it live before, never seen it before. Visually, what was striking was the way the snare drum was positioned not at the back of the stage in the percussion section but right in the middle—in front of the woodwinds and just behind the violas. The snare drum sounds from beginning to end, without a break, establishing and maintaining the beat throughout. It is central to the piece in more than one sense. How hard it must be to keep it going flawlessly for the 15 minutes or so that Bolero lasts. It was an extraordinary performance—in its entirety, not just the percussion, although the snare drummer enjoyed a long and enthusiastic spell of applause.
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| Jean-Yves Thibaudet and Gauthier Capucon take a bow |
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| Nokuthula Ngwenyama and Jayce Ogren coming offstage after Harold in Italy |
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| Francesco Lecce-Chong conducting the Santa Rosa Symphony |
The day before, December 1, I was backstage in Santa Rosa taking pictures for the symphony during a concert at The Green
Music Center. On the program were the William Tell Overture (Rossini),
Berlioz's Harold in Italy, and Vivaldi's Gloria. The concert was led by
guest conductor Jayce Ogren. Nokuthula Ngwenyama was the viola soloist in
Harold in Italy.
On January 12, in the new year, I was backstage again for a concert conducted by new music director Francesco Lecce-Chong. He led the Santa Rosa Symphony in a couple of short brass fanfares by Takemitsu, Mozart's Symphony No. 40 and Mahler's Symphony No. 4. Soprano Marie Plette was soloist in the Mahler.
Not to mention the Santa Rosa Symphony concert with Sharon Isbin on November 8, 2018 and also seeing Hilary Hahn in recital in San Francisco on the following day—two concerts I wrote about briefly here—or to mention the several art shows I saw in those months that I never got a chance to write about, notably the Muslim Fashions show, the René Magritte show, and the Pre-Raphaelites show, all in San Francisco.
On January 12, in the new year, I was backstage again for a concert conducted by new music director Francesco Lecce-Chong. He led the Santa Rosa Symphony in a couple of short brass fanfares by Takemitsu, Mozart's Symphony No. 40 and Mahler's Symphony No. 4. Soprano Marie Plette was soloist in the Mahler.
Not to mention the Santa Rosa Symphony concert with Sharon Isbin on November 8, 2018 and also seeing Hilary Hahn in recital in San Francisco on the following day—two concerts I wrote about briefly here—or to mention the several art shows I saw in those months that I never got a chance to write about, notably the Muslim Fashions show, the René Magritte show, and the Pre-Raphaelites show, all in San Francisco.
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| Soprano Marie Plette and Francesco Lecce-Chong coming offstage after the Mahler |
Books I'm Reading: The Monuments Men
First book of the new year. The Monuments Men (2009, Little, Brown and Co.), by Robert M. Edsel, with Bret Witter, is the book from which the recent film was made. It tells the story of the German looting of art treasures in Europe during WWII. This is the same story told in Lynn H. Nicholas's 1994 book The Rape of Europa, but from the perspective of the men and women charged with finding, protecting, and repatriating the loot.
An extraordinary tale in many ways. First, it vividly demonstrates (yet again) the Nazi capacity for organized and meticulously documented criminal activity—activity condoned and encouraged from the very top. Extraordinary that treasures of the caliber of The Ghent Altarpiece were carted away and stowed in salt mines. Extraordinary that Hitler directed all of the looted art to be destroyed at the end of the war, when it had become clear that the war was lost. Extraordinary to think that, at the same time— almost until the day he killed himself—Hitler still had visions of a great museum in Linz where all the stolen art would go. Extraordinary that so few people on the Allied side accomplished so much with so little support from the governments they were serving. The writing is workmanlike, but the tale itself is well worth the time.
An extraordinary tale in many ways. First, it vividly demonstrates (yet again) the Nazi capacity for organized and meticulously documented criminal activity—activity condoned and encouraged from the very top. Extraordinary that treasures of the caliber of The Ghent Altarpiece were carted away and stowed in salt mines. Extraordinary that Hitler directed all of the looted art to be destroyed at the end of the war, when it had become clear that the war was lost. Extraordinary to think that, at the same time— almost until the day he killed himself—Hitler still had visions of a great museum in Linz where all the stolen art would go. Extraordinary that so few people on the Allied side accomplished so much with so little support from the governments they were serving. The writing is workmanlike, but the tale itself is well worth the time.
Rain: Another 0.95 Inches
Clear and sunny today for the first time in quite a while. It was still misting last night as I watched the lunar eclipse, obscured by clouds about half of the time. Now the clouds are all gone. There was 0.95 inches in the rain gauge this morning. That brings our total for the 2018-2019 rain year to 18.80 inches at my location in northeast Santa Rosa. Normal for January 21 in Santa Rosa is a little under 19 inches, so, we are right on track to see an average year of rainfall, as long as the rain doesn't suddenly stop. We'll see.
Sunday, January 20, 2019
Miscellaneous: Lunar Eclipse of January 20, 2019
We got to see only about half of the eclipse tonight because of clouds
and rain, but we got to enjoy the climax at least. Here's my best shot
of the action. Shot with an Olympus OMD EM-1 Mark II and a 420mm-equivalent lens (80-300mm zoom lens at 300mm plus 1.4x teleconverter) at f4 for 1/3 of a second at ISO 6400. Camera on tripod, in-camera image stabilization off. Exposed using a remote shutter release. Anti-vibration setting not used. Recorded from Santa Rosa, CA at 9:20PM Pacific Standard Time.
Friday, January 18, 2019
Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Pink Flowering Plum and "Noyo Dream" Rhododendron
On January 13, the first blossoms opened on the pink flowering plum alongside the house. Today both this plum and the white plum on the other side of the house are in full bloom and buzzing with bees.
Thursday, January 10, 2019
Books I'm Reading: A Beautiful Question
The last book I read in 2018, Nobel Prize winner Frank Wilczek's A Beautiful Question (Penguin, 2015) is one of those books that you immediately want to re-read the moment you're finished with it because it handles such difficult subject matter.
I periodically subject myself to these books on physics, because I want to understand what human beings so far understand about the universe, but I never seem to make much progress. The fault is mine, not the author's.
Wilczek lays out the now-familiar history of the development of quantum physics but approaches the story from a somewhat unusual perspective. His focus throughout the book is on beauty and idealizations of reality and the relationship of these to actual reality as we understand it. His greatest pleasure is in pointing out how human intellect, inspired by notions of the ideal, has arrived at solutions to basic problems that in large part conform to expectations—and in this symmetry, this conformance of real to the ideal, he sees great beauty. He looks at the universe as envisioned by Pythagoras, Socrates, Galileo, Newton, Maxwell, Einstein, and then by physicists of the modern era, pointing out along the way how our understanding of the universe points to a positive answer to the question he initially posits "Does the universe embody beautiful ideas?"
I see that I read only 14 books in 2018, which seems a shamefully small number. That's a book every 3.7 weeks. I'd like to be near one every two weeks, at the very least.... So many books. I will have to try harder in 2019.
I periodically subject myself to these books on physics, because I want to understand what human beings so far understand about the universe, but I never seem to make much progress. The fault is mine, not the author's.
Wilczek lays out the now-familiar history of the development of quantum physics but approaches the story from a somewhat unusual perspective. His focus throughout the book is on beauty and idealizations of reality and the relationship of these to actual reality as we understand it. His greatest pleasure is in pointing out how human intellect, inspired by notions of the ideal, has arrived at solutions to basic problems that in large part conform to expectations—and in this symmetry, this conformance of real to the ideal, he sees great beauty. He looks at the universe as envisioned by Pythagoras, Socrates, Galileo, Newton, Maxwell, Einstein, and then by physicists of the modern era, pointing out along the way how our understanding of the universe points to a positive answer to the question he initially posits "Does the universe embody beautiful ideas?"
I see that I read only 14 books in 2018, which seems a shamefully small number. That's a book every 3.7 weeks. I'd like to be near one every two weeks, at the very least.... So many books. I will have to try harder in 2019.
Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms—Cyclamen Coum and White Flowering Plum (First Week of January 2019)
I've become lazy about keeping track of first blooms in the garden. I think this is because, having taken fairly careful notes, for several years, I've satisfied my original curiosity about the consistency of bloom dates. At first I recorded the first blossoming of virtually every plant in the garden. More recently I've limited by attention to a smaller sampling and missed a few dates I would have liked to have recorded more carefully. As usual, Cyclamen coum, a dwarf cyclamen variety, was the first flower to bloom in the garden in the new year, several blossoms were already open on the 2nd or 3rd of January, but a single blossom had already opened on December 16--which is quite a bit earlier than every before. Probably an outlier, not part of a trend. Last year this plant bloomed first on January 4. So, aside from the one early bloom, this is in line with its usual pattern.
The white flowering plum on the side of the house began blooming almost a week ago, but I missed the exact date. Probably around January 4. Always pretty, always delightfully fragrant, the bees are already swarming it, probably mostly to collect the abundant pollen. We lost our bees this past summer, so these are bees from hives the neighbors keep. The plum first bloomed last year on January 14, so this is comparatively early, although not unusually so. The tree has had its first flowers as early as December 30 in the past.
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
Rain: Lots More Rain
It's been rainy for the past few days and the forecast is mostly for rain in the coming week. People are already grumbling about it. How quickly we forget about drought....
Since last reporting, we've had 3.50 inches of new precipitation at my location in northeast Santa Rosa. That brings our total so far for the 2018-2019 rain year to 13.95 inches as of noon on January 8, which is about two inches below the historical average (about 15.9 inches) for this time of year, but judging from the forecast, we could easily make that up in the coming few days.
[As of the morning of January 12, we've had another 1.10 inches of rain at my location, bringing the total to 15.05 inches. Average cumulative rainfall for January 12 in Santa Rosa is just under 17 inches, so, we remain a little under two inches behind.]
[As of the afternoon of January 17, we've had 2.80 more inches of rain, bringing the total to 17.85 inches, but it's still raining....]
Since last reporting, we've had 3.50 inches of new precipitation at my location in northeast Santa Rosa. That brings our total so far for the 2018-2019 rain year to 13.95 inches as of noon on January 8, which is about two inches below the historical average (about 15.9 inches) for this time of year, but judging from the forecast, we could easily make that up in the coming few days.
[As of the morning of January 12, we've had another 1.10 inches of rain at my location, bringing the total to 15.05 inches. Average cumulative rainfall for January 12 in Santa Rosa is just under 17 inches, so, we remain a little under two inches behind.]
[As of the afternoon of January 17, we've had 2.80 more inches of rain, bringing the total to 17.85 inches, but it's still raining....]
Monday, January 7, 2019
Art I'm Making: My Second First Cyanotype
A few weeks back, I posted here my "first cyanotype." Being new to this process, I was pleased with an image that had faults that I was willing to overlook in the excitement of getting a moderately successful image. Here, I post what I think I will be able to look back on as my real first cyanotype in the sense that this one actually looks the way I envisioned it from the outset.
I've been working to create a curve that works for me. However, this image worked a little by accident, I believe. That is, I think the curve I'm using now just happens to work well with this particular image. Using the same curve on other images and on a test target has been disappointing. I'm still have trouble getting a range of tones at the highlight end of things.
For the moment, though, I'll take what I can get. This is repeatable because I have the successful negative, but my work will continue until I get a curve that works more generally.
For those who like technical details, this is a print using the traditional cyanotype formula on Arches Platine, double coated, exposed for 15 minutes under an artificial UV light source. Developed in water with one tbsp of vinegar per quart for one minute under constant, vigorous agitation (which seems to be the key to keeping the highlights from getting stained) and then for 30 seconds in water with one tbsp of hydrogen peroxide added per quart of water. Washed ten minutes. The bird is a Great-tailed Grackle (Quiscalus mexicanus), photographed in Santa Rosa, California (digital capture, negative made on Pictorico transparency film). The Great-tailed Grackle is a comparatively unusual bird here, but it is becoming more common as it appears to be extending its range into our area of Northern California from its traditional range, mostly in the southwestern and south-central US and Mexico.
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
Birds I'm Watching: First Bird of 2019
2019—First bird of the year: White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis). This portends good birding in 2019, I think, as White-throated Sparrow is a relatively uncommon species here. I saw one under the feeder this morning as I pulled up the blinds on the living room windows. I've started putting out seed again after a hiatus of a couple of years prompted by the presence of young cats in the neighborhood. I'm hoping for the best now (but will remain vigilant).
To all my birder friends: I wish you a bountiful 2019 with many exotic, rare birds among the regulars.
Music I'm Listening To: Ranking the Mahler Symphonies
Ranking the Mahler symphonies: The Third is far and away my favorite.
Followed by the Sixth, the First, The Fifth, the Fourth, and the Ninth,
in that order, and then numbers 7, 8, and 2, although, I must admit
that it's only the Second that I actually don't enjoy. The Seventh and
Eighth I simply haven't listened to as much as some of the others.
My favorite recording of the Third remains the recording by Maurice Abravanel and the Utah Symphony Orchestra. I first discovered this recording, on LP (Vanguard Cardinal Series VCS10072/73, my copy pictured above), by chance in the cut-out bin of a record store in Columbus, Ohio back in the early 1980s, long before I had ever really listened to Mahler in earnest. I thought it sublimely beautiful, and still do. Years later, I was thrilled and relieved to find it re-released on CD, as I had feared I would wear out the grooves on the LP never able to replace it.
My favorite recording of the Third remains the recording by Maurice Abravanel and the Utah Symphony Orchestra. I first discovered this recording, on LP (Vanguard Cardinal Series VCS10072/73, my copy pictured above), by chance in the cut-out bin of a record store in Columbus, Ohio back in the early 1980s, long before I had ever really listened to Mahler in earnest. I thought it sublimely beautiful, and still do. Years later, I was thrilled and relieved to find it re-released on CD, as I had feared I would wear out the grooves on the LP never able to replace it.
I can't imagine a finer performance of this piece, and the sound is
ethereal. On a road trip across the United States, in 2009, in search of
things beyond my grasp, atheist though I am, I stopped in Salt Lake
City to pay homage to the Mormon Tabernacle because it's where this
recording was made. The Tabernacle is manned by eager young Mormons who
want to talk about God, I found. The young woman who approached me,
visiting from Brazil, I think it was, didn't understand why I was there.
Although the Tabernacle is an odd building--looking much like a tired roller skating rink or a hockey arena with a stage and chairs in it instead of ice, and with
wooden columns painted to look like marble--it's magical for its sound.
The other Abravanel Mahler symphony recordings are very good, too, but this is a standout. In fact, if I had to pick a single recording from among the thousands that I own--of any music by any composer--to take with me to a desert island, I'd probably pick this.
A bounded infinity.
The other Abravanel Mahler symphony recordings are very good, too, but this is a standout. In fact, if I had to pick a single recording from among the thousands that I own--of any music by any composer--to take with me to a desert island, I'd probably pick this.
A bounded infinity.
Happy New Year to all my friends and acquaintances—whether Mahler excites you or not.
Wines I'm Making: Racking and Dosing the 2018 Wines
Belatedly I report that I spent most of Christmas Eve this year handling wine. I racked our 2018 Cabernet (six gallons) and our 2018 Sangiovese (four gallons) for the first time, assuming (although not confirming) that malolactic fermentation had gone to completion. I lightly sulfited the wine and would have added oak staves, but I had none on hand and it was a holiday. Today, writing on New Year's Eve, I still haven't added the oak, but will do so when the stores open again on January 2nd. So far, the wine seems sound and well on its way.
I also racked a gallon of rosé that I made from subpar grapes that I didn't want to leave sitting on the skins during fermentation. I decided to try to use this wine to make a sparkling wine (a first attempt). Having made sparkling cider several times before, it seemed easy enough, but I won't be able to riddle the bottles and clear the lees after the secondary fermentation in the bottle, so, while the wine will be sparkling, it will have a little yeast debris in the bottom, like a bottle-fermented beer rather than like a crystal clear Champagne. We'll see.
After racking, I bottled the wine and dosed it at 1.4oz of sugar/gallon for the in-bottle fermentation. The only complication was that I didn't realize that sparkling wine bottles are larger at the lip than the beer bottles I use for making cider. Thus, my crown caps and capper were the wrong size. I had to go to the supply store to buy larger caps and a larger fitting for my capping device. It didn't go very smoothly because the fitting kept separating from the capper, but I did get eventually get the bottles capped. They are now (presumably) undergoing secondary fermentation in the bottles.
I also racked a gallon of rosé that I made from subpar grapes that I didn't want to leave sitting on the skins during fermentation. I decided to try to use this wine to make a sparkling wine (a first attempt). Having made sparkling cider several times before, it seemed easy enough, but I won't be able to riddle the bottles and clear the lees after the secondary fermentation in the bottle, so, while the wine will be sparkling, it will have a little yeast debris in the bottom, like a bottle-fermented beer rather than like a crystal clear Champagne. We'll see.
After racking, I bottled the wine and dosed it at 1.4oz of sugar/gallon for the in-bottle fermentation. The only complication was that I didn't realize that sparkling wine bottles are larger at the lip than the beer bottles I use for making cider. Thus, my crown caps and capper were the wrong size. I had to go to the supply store to buy larger caps and a larger fitting for my capping device. It didn't go very smoothly because the fitting kept separating from the capper, but I did get eventually get the bottles capped. They are now (presumably) undergoing secondary fermentation in the bottles.
Thursday, December 27, 2018
The Cocktail Glass Collection: Doc's Clock
A new addition to my collection of photos of neon cocktail glass signs in front of bars. This is the sign in front of Doc's Clock, at 2417 Mission St, San Francisco, CA 94110. The sign is missing a few letters at the moment, but the blue cocktail glass with red garnish is intact. Doc's Clock proclaims it's always cocktail time.
The yellow bulbs above the lettering shift around the side of the sign to an arrow pointing to the door of the place--a narrow dive-bar kind of place from the looks of it. I didn't go in.
For more, click the "Cocktail Glass Collection" label at right toward the top of the page.
The yellow bulbs above the lettering shift around the side of the sign to an arrow pointing to the door of the place--a narrow dive-bar kind of place from the looks of it. I didn't go in.
For more, click the "Cocktail Glass Collection" label at right toward the top of the page.
Thursday, December 20, 2018
Rain: More Rain in mid-December
Rain off and on in the past few days has added 1.80 inches to our total for the 2018-2019 rain year, which now stands at 10.05 inches as of noon on December 21. Average by this time of year in Santa Rosa is about 10.3 inches, so we have caught up after a slow start—but more rain is forecast for this weekend.
[Subsequent rain added another 0.40 inches, bringing the total to 10.45 inches as of December 26. The forecast for the next ten days is mostly sunny.]
[Subsequent rain added another 0.40 inches, bringing the total to 10.45 inches as of December 26. The forecast for the next ten days is mostly sunny.]
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Art I'm Making: "Go Figure" at The Sebastopol Center for the Arts
I'm pleased to say I got word today that two of the three pieces
I submitted to the upcoming "Go Figure" show at The Sebastopol Center for
the Arts were juried into the show. The show will feature
representations of the human figure from more than sixty artists from
all over the world.
One is this drawing of a young pregnant woman I did years ago, in Tokyo, using sanguine conté crayon. She had been disowned by her family and needed money, so had turned to modeling. She had become pregnant by her boyfriend, who she told me was a Greek sailor. The stuff of Victorian novels....
And here is the second of my two pieces that will appear in the upcoming "Go Figure" show at the Sebastopol Center for the arts.
An untitled nude. This is a traditional photograph (a gelatin silver print), a view of Kanako, the first model I ever hired. She had a habit of stretching before we began a session of drawing or photography. In this photo I caught her in side-light as she linked her hands behind her head and twisted a little to limber up her back.
The show opens Friday, January 11. It will run through Sunday, February 17 at the Sebastopol Center for the Arts, 282 S. High Street, Sebastopol, CA 95472. Telephone (707) 829-4797. Information also at info@sebarts.org The opening reception will be at the Center, on January 11 from 6:00PM to 7:30PM.
One is this drawing of a young pregnant woman I did years ago, in Tokyo, using sanguine conté crayon. She had been disowned by her family and needed money, so had turned to modeling. She had become pregnant by her boyfriend, who she told me was a Greek sailor. The stuff of Victorian novels....
And here is the second of my two pieces that will appear in the upcoming "Go Figure" show at the Sebastopol Center for the arts.
An untitled nude. This is a traditional photograph (a gelatin silver print), a view of Kanako, the first model I ever hired. She had a habit of stretching before we began a session of drawing or photography. In this photo I caught her in side-light as she linked her hands behind her head and twisted a little to limber up her back.
The show opens Friday, January 11. It will run through Sunday, February 17 at the Sebastopol Center for the Arts, 282 S. High Street, Sebastopol, CA 95472. Telephone (707) 829-4797. Information also at info@sebarts.org The opening reception will be at the Center, on January 11 from 6:00PM to 7:30PM.
Art I'm Making: Recent Collages
A couple of recent collages. I've been lazy about posting recent ones, mainly because I'm making them at a far slower pace than in the past. I feel like I've done what there is to do with this particular mode of working, but I'll probably keep at it sporadically. Right now, my attention is turned to trying to figure out the subtleties of the cyanotype process.
Above is Untitled Collage No. 207 (Santa Rosa). September 19, 2018. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, fragment of a doodling robot drawing in archival marker, collage. Image size: 11.5 x 12.2cm (4.5 x 4.8 inches). Matted to 11 x 14 inches. Signed on the mat.
Signed and dated on the reverse.
Below is Untitled Collage No. 208 (Santa Rosa). October 4, 2018. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, rice paper, antique silver leaf, collage. Image size: 11.5 x 11.7cm (4.5 x 4.7 inches). Matted to 11 x 14 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. This one really needs to be seen in person to get the full effect. The antique silver leaf is the large triangular bit behind the rice paper. It's actually inserted into a pocket in the rice paper, floating loose but held in place by the rice paper.
Below is Untitled Collage No. 208 (Santa Rosa). October 4, 2018. Acrylic on paper, acrylic monotype, rice paper, antique silver leaf, collage. Image size: 11.5 x 11.7cm (4.5 x 4.7 inches). Matted to 11 x 14 inches. Signed on the mat. Signed and dated on the reverse. This one really needs to be seen in person to get the full effect. The antique silver leaf is the large triangular bit behind the rice paper. It's actually inserted into a pocket in the rice paper, floating loose but held in place by the rice paper.
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