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Ruttenbai "Ruttie" Petit ("The Flower of Bombay") after marriage Maryam Jinnah (February 20, 1900 - February 15, 1929), was the second wife of Muhammad Ali Jinnah - an important figure in the Indian Independence Movement and later founder of Pakistan. She was the only daughter of Sir Dinshaw Petit, who in turn, was the son of Dinshaw Maneckji Petit, founder of the first cotton mills in India. The Petits were textile magnates and one of Bombay's wealthiest Parsi families.
"Ruttie" as she was affectionately called, was bright, gifted and graceful. Although she was 16 the year she met Mohammad Ali Jinnah, she was intellectually much more mature than other girls her age. She had diverse interests ranging from romantic poetry to politics. With her maiden aunt she attended all public meetings held in Bombay and was familiar with the movement for swaraj (home-rule). She was a fierce supporter of India for Indians and many years later when asked about rumours of Jinnah's possible knighthood and whether she would like to be Lady Jinnah, she snapped that she would rather be separated from her husband than take on an English title.
In the summer of 1916, Jinnah was invited to escape the Bombay heat at the summer home of his client and friend Sir Dinshaw. There, in Darjeeling, Jinnah was enchanted with Ruttie's precocious intelligence and beauty, and she in turn was enamoured by J, as she called him.
Jinnah approached Sir Dinshaw with a seemingly abstract question about his views on inter-communal marriages. Sir Dinshaw emphatically expressed his opinion that it would be an ideal solution to inter-communal antagonism. Jinnah could not have hoped for a more favourable response, and immediately asked his friend for his daughter's hand in marriage.
M. C. Chagla, who was assisting Jinnah at his chambers in those days, recalled later, "Sir Dinshaw was taken aback. He had not realized that his remarks might have serious personal repercussions. He was most indignant, and refused to countenance any such idea which appeared to him absurd and fantastic."
Jinnah pleaded his case, but to no avail. Not only was this the end of the friendship between the two men, but Sir Dinshaw forbade Ruttie to meet Jinnah as long as she lived under his roof. As she was still a minor, the law was on his side but Ruttie and Jinnah met in secret anyway, and decided to wait out the two years until she attained the age of maturity.
Shortly after her eighteenth birthday, Rattanbai converted to Islam and adopted the name Mariam. Two months later, on April 19, 1918, they were married at his house South Court in Bombay. The wedding ring which Jinnah gave Ruttie was a present from the Raja of Mahmudabad. The Raja and a few close friends of Jinnah were the only guests at the wedding, and later the couple spent part of their honeymoon at the Mahmudabad palace in Nainital. The rest of their honeymoon was spent at the Maidens Hotel, a magnificent property just beyond the Red Fort.
Ruttie and Jinnah made a head-turning couple. Her long hair would be decked in fresh flowers, and she wore vibrant silk and headbands lavish with diamonds, rubies and emeralds. And Jinnah in those days was the epitome of elegance in suits custom-made for him in London. According to most sources, the couple could not have been happier in those early years of their marriage. The only blot on their joy was Ruttie's ostracism from her family. Sir Dinshaw mourned Ruttie socially even after his granddaughter Dina was born.
By mid-1922, Jinnah was facing political isolation as he devoted every spare moment to be the voice of moderation in a nation torn by Hindu-Muslim antipathy. The increasingly late hours and the ever-increasing distance between them left Ruttie isolated.
In September 1922, she packed her bags and took her daughter to London. The echoes of her loneliness are apparent in a letter which she sent to her friend Kanji, thanking him for the bouquet of roses he had sent as a bon voyage gift; It will always give me pleasure to hear from you, so if you have a superfluous moment on your hands you know where to find me if I don't lose myself. And just one thing more, go and see Jinnah and tell me how he is, he has a habit of overworking himself and now that I am not there to tease and bother him he will be worse than ever.
Upon her return to India, Ruttie tried to see more of her husband but he was too busy campaigning for elections as an independent for the general Bombay seats. Ruttie withdrew into a world of spirits, séances and mysticism. Although she tried to interest Jinnah in the metaphysical, he had little time to devote to the whims of a wife half his age.
In 1925, Jinnah was appointed to a subcommittee to study the possibility of establishing a military college like Sandhurst in India. For this purpose he was to undertake a five-month tour of Europe and North America. Jinnah decided to take Ruttie with him - on what he hoped would be a second honeymoon. Instead the trip simply magnified the growing personal gulf between them. By 1927, Ruttie and Jinnah had virtually separated, and the move of the Muslim League's office to Delhi was just the final blow to a relationship that was already, in essence, over.
Ruttie's health deteriorated rapidly in the years after they returned from their final trip together. But she kept her interest in her pets and her close friends. Even as a frail, weakened woman, Ruttie attempted to remain in touch with those around her, going so far as to travel in bedroom slippers even though her feet were swollen and painful. Later she decided to live alone.
Ruttie lived at the Taj Hotel in Bombay, almost a recluse as she became more and more bed-ridden. Kanji continued to be her constant companion. By February 18, 1929 she had become so weak that all she could manage to say to him was a request to look after her cats. Two days later, Ruttie Petit Jinnah died. It was her 29th birthday. She was buried on February 22 in Khoja Isna Ashari Cemetery, Mazgaon, Bombay according to Muslim rites. Jinnah sat like a statue throughout the funeral but when asked to throw earth on the grave, he broke down and wept.
Later, Chagla said, "That was the only time when I found Jinnah betraying some shadow of human weakness. It's not a well publicised fact that as a young student in England it had been one of Jinnah's dreams to play Romeo at The Globe. It is a strange twist of fate that a love story that started like a fairy tale ended as a haunting tragedy to rival any of Shakespeare's dramas."
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I am starting a new series of images which are digital paintings of my travel photos. I will keep adding to this collection over time. I hope you like them.
LAS FORMULAS DEL PATHOS Y SU SUPERVIVENCIA
Artículo de la Catedrática Victoria Cirlot.
En él "trata de plantear y comprender lo que el historiador del arte Aby Warburg denominó Pathosformel (fórmulas del pathos)"... "Se rastrea la aparición del concepto en su obra descifrando su significado y sus implicaciones para el análisis de las imágenes"... "Finalmente, el concepto es aplicado a una imagen fotográfica contemporánea lo que permite una comprensión mayor de su efecto en la recepción del público, estableciendo un diálogo entre la tradición iconográfica del pasado y la actualidad."
Artículo en English, Castellano www.raco.cat/index.php/Comparativecinema/article/view/cc....
Extracto del texto dónde se menciona la fotografía de referencia:
En Barcelona, el 1 de febrero de 1976, Manel Armengol realizó una serie de fotografías en blanco y negro que recogían puntualmente las cargas policiales contra los manifestantes, todavía en la llamada época de transición. De entre todas ellas, Georges Didi-Huberman escogió una para la portada del catálogo y el cartel de la exposición Insurreccions, inaugurada en el Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya en febrero de 2017 (DIDI-HUBERMAN, 2017). Aquí me interesa otra de las fotografías de la misma serie, la que según el propio testimonio del fotógrafo, lo invistió profesionalmente, dado el gran impacto que conoció en los medios de comunicación de todo el mundo. El interés que nos suscita ahora esta fotografía se debe a que resuelve la imagen según la misma fórmula del pathos de La muerte de Orfeo de Dürer (Fig. 7). Destacaré cómo el fotógrafo enmarcó la imagen, que se resuelve en el personaje de espaldas situado a la derecha del revoltijo de seres humanos caídos, que con el brazo derecho alzado está dispuesto a asestar el golpe con la porra. El revoltijo humano sustituye a Orfeo con su rodilla hincada en el suelo, aunque reitera la composición triangular del cantor y también repite el gesto protector del brazo. Frente a la ménade que vemos de cara en el dibujo de Dürer, y que funciona como una inversión simétrica de la ménade de espaldas, en la fotografía de Manel Armengol vemos a otro policía detrás del grupo de personajes caídos. Frente al claro eje vertical que marca el árbol en la composición de Dürer con el polémico cartel que parece hacer referencia a la homosexualidad del cantor (Orfeus der erst puseran, pues juró no amar a mujer si no era a su esposa Eurídice), en la fotografía son diversos árboles invernales y una cierta neblina, producida por los botes de humo lanzados por la policía, los que ocupan el fondo, en el que también interviene un letrero (Academia...). Pero todas estas variantes no pueden ocultar que ambas imágenes están recorridas por un mismo ritmo y que nos muestran una misma carga energética: el desencadenamiento de una violencia, contra la que la víctima (o las víctimas) nada pueden hacer. Se trata de una Pathosformel en la medida en que nos confronta ante una violencia extrema."
Head of Medusa from the first ships.
This is an example of refined craftsmanship. The detail of the hair, the scales, the snakes and nostrils were made using hand-held tools (burin and chisel). The resulting portrait combines the apotropaic function typical of the depictions of this monstrous figure with the pathos characterizing the humanized Medusa type. The bronze fittings are the most important set of objects found during work to salvage the Nemi ships. The head of Medusa was placed high up, as if to watch over the ship with her gaze.
The Ships.
The Nemi Ships were two ships built by the Roman emperor Caligula in the 1st century AD at Lake Nemi. Although the purpose of the ships is only speculated on, the two large ships are a unique example of ceremonial vessels, genuine palaces floating on the water of lake, created in the image of luxurious eastern residences of the Hellenistic period. The ships contained quantities of marble, mosaic floors, heating and plumbing such as baths among its amenities. The attribution to Caligula was confirmed by the discovery of some lead water pipes (fistulae) with inscriptions proving that the ships belonged to this emperor.
Although the ancient sources do not mention the Nemi ships, recent studies have succeeded in reconstructing the architecture of the vessels. The first was used as a sort of annexe to the sumptuous residence owned by the emperor on the banks of the lake. The second was used for ceremonial proposes, as proven by the discovery of cult objects connected with the goddess Isis.
Recovery from the lakebed succeeded in October 1932. The ships were put on display in a museum built on the shores of the Lake Nemi, where they were almost completely destroyed by fire in 1944 during the second word war.
Bronze, lost-wax casting
Age of Caligula
37 – 41 AD
Roma, Palazzo Massimo alle Terme
Everyone's entitled to a holiday... even a hard working digger machine. Now sitting there just catching the rays and waiting for a cocktail or two.
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It has been a very busy past few months, but I finally unpacked my computer and got some much needed photo time last night. I couldn’t wait to process this picture of the Berkeley Marina. I arrived there just in time to see the sunset and had to scramble over some rocks to get to this position while there was still color in the sky. After the constant rush that has been my life over the past few months, it was very satisfying to stand still and simply observe the sunset over this beautiful marina.
Atkinson Art Gallery, Lord Street, Southport, Merseyside.
Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow, c1890.
By Lady Elizabeth Butler (1846-1933).
Watercolour and Gouache over pencil.
Lady Butler enjoyed huge acclaim for the complex battle scenes she specialised in. Although thrillingly lifelike, they were posed by models and usually painted years after the event. This lone figure of Napoleon after his defeat in 1812 was probably a study for a larger composition.
From 1862 Lady Elizabeth Butler began her studies of art in Italy, then in 1866 she went to South Kensington, London where she enrolled at the Female School of Art. Moving to Florence in 1869 where she studied under Giuseppe Bellucci and attended the Accademia di Belle Arti. She often signed her works as Mimi Thompson.
Famous for her paintings of battle scenes, Lady Elizabeth Butler was a remarkable artist, being one of only a few 19th century women to acquire fame for their historic paintings. Prior to her fame as a battle scene artists she had focussed on religious subjects, but in 1870 she was inspired by the works of Jean Louis Ernest Meissonier and Edouard Detaille, from then on she changed her focus to depicting heroic actions of soldiers of the ranks. In her 1922 autobiography she wrote about her military paintings: "I never painted for the glory of war, but to portray its pathos and heroism."
Born at Villa Claremont in Lausanne, Switzerland, her other works include the Crimean War and the Battle of Waterloo, The Roll Call (purchased by Queen Victoria) and The Defence of Rorke's Drift.
Her marriage to the distinguished British Army Lieutenant-General Sir William Francis Butler in 1877 resulted in six children, and a new era in her life as she travelled the British Empire. During their empire travels both she and her husband started to believe that the empire rulers of Britain and Europe may not provide the most positive experience for those whose land they ruled over. Even so, she continued to paint scenes showing the valour of the ordinary British soldier. Although she herself never witnessed war, she achieved more than any woman before or during her time in this field of art.
On her husband's retirement from the army, they moved to Bansha Castle, County Tipperary, Ireland. During the Irish Civil War a collection of watercolours she had created from their time in Palestine were moved to Gormanston Castle for safe keeping, later they were moved to London. Ironically they were almost all destroyed during the German Blitz of London.
Lady Butler was widowed in 1910, passing away herself in 1933.
I'm obsessed with Buffalo Bill Cody, the Wild West showman who brought to life the drama and pathos of the settling of the American frontier. I can imagine what Buffalo Bill would have done with Twitter, Facebook and YouTube! Imagine: #cowgirlbeauty or #belleofthewest
Kactus Kate is my alter-ego--and this beguiling cowgirl is how I picture her. I finally found a copy of the ad featuring the cowgirl--I bought a page from Life magazine so I could make a high-resolution clip of what I call "Cosmic Cowgirl".
I layered her over W.F. Cody's face on an Internet copy of one of his famous Buffalo posters, with the not-so-modest announcement, "I am Coming". I have photos that I took of reproductions of this iconic buffalo while visiting the Buffalo Bill Museum at Lookout Mountain. I plan to work with those images soon.
I don't have mad Photoshop skills, but I'm playing with layers--trying to build in a digital sense, one of the lushly detailed backgrounds featured in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Posters.
"Pathos. La tragedia delle Troiane" da Euripide e Seneca per la regia di Micha van Hoeck a Giardini Naxos con la presenza di un mimo ironico e giocoso, Lindsay Kemp.
The slogan at the bottom is from the National Association of Ice Industries ad in The American Home. Doomed technologies and their last gasps for relevance have a pathos all their own. See following pitch.
Manet s'ispirò per il suo quadro "Le déjeuner sur l'herbe" al "Concerto campestre" di Tiziano. Bernhard Gillessen, artista tedesco che vive in Umbria, potrebbe ispirarsi ad un déjeuner trevano tra i piantoni di Bovara, per celebrare "Pic & Nic", evento musico- conviviale, svoltosi quest'anno sotto un'ostile pioggerella, che nulla ha tolto - se non un po’ di pubblico - al pathos di stampo rurale dell'iniziativa. La colazione tra gli ulivi è una abitudine da non trascurare, in tempi di ristrettezze finanziarie. Forse è questo il sensato suggerimento che ci viene da Trevi, ma anche da Preci, dove si festeggia “Il Maggio”, con gli strumenti musicali della tradizione umbra, gli organetti, i tamburelli, le ciaramelle, i mandolini, le zampogne e i flauti, che ci permetteranno di ballare saltarelli e mazurche e di ascoltare i canti della tradizione etnocoreutica dell’Appennino centrale. Insomma, per dirla con i preciani, "chi arriva sona", considerato che agli umbri piacciono i poeti a braccio, gli stornellatori e i cantanti nei modi della memoria. Il CEDRAV ha inserito l'iniziativa nel progetto Comunità Sonore del Comitato per la Promozione del Patrimonio Immateriale Italiano. Questa di Trevi e di Preci è l’Umbria che ci piace di più. E anche l’Umbria adatta per le scampagnate a basso costo e ad alto rendimento culturale che, a parte i cassonetti della differenziata sparsi qua e là, colpisce l’occhio e appaga la mente, riecheggiando i temi della musica romantica, degli ozi - non solo pastorali - la rappresentazione parallela del visibile e dell'invisibile, del praticabile e dell'impraticabile, del probabile e dell'impossibile. E se l'opera di Tiziano è considerata un "manifesto" dello sviluppo stilistico della pittura veneta all'aprirsi del Cinquecento, i faccioni dei candidati stampati sui manifesti delle prossime amministrative svolgono un loro ruolo, realizzando un inno all'umbritudine più stagnante, quella che ignora i requisiti basilari della comunicazione e ci restituisce il folclore di certa politica, attraverso una lettura ironica dei localismi. Perché l'ironia non è soltanto ironica. E’ analisi seria, sentimento di vibrante e nativa pietas, nella sua inflessibile accezione del termine. Gli umbri sono condannati a ricercare il bello, mentre i loro faccioni palesano un decadentismo estetico faticosamente arginabile. Ci sembra di vederli, questi candidati, mentre s'aggirano tra i piantoni e le tovaglie a quadretti, lasciando trapelare il loro spleen. La parola viene dal greco, perché in inglese significa milza. Lo spleen umbro, invece, descrive una sorta di scontentezza meditativa, accompagnata da sguardo melanconico, intervallato, ma solo di rado, da carsica vena atrabiliare, che a volte assume, improvvisamente, le forme della veemenza passionale o di una carnale disposizione godereccia, nel corso della quale bisognerebbe fotografarli, questi "most wanted" da appendere al muro. Siparietto. Candidati, quanto sono forzati i sorrisi che compaiono nei vostri manifesti. Per non parlare degli sfondi, dove avremmo preferito pastori, paesaggi, quinte vegetali, come quelle che spuntano nei quadri dell'umbratile Frappi. Avremmo preferito rappresentazioni di giovani che brindano in un prato, di donne dai piedi nudi che, invece d'indossare occasionali tailleur, avessero ballato il saltarello. Mica per altro, per poter esprimere la nostra preferenza in base ad un’allegoria musicale del bello e della poesia purificatrice. S’avverte in questa vigilia elettorale la necessità che i poeti a braccio interpretino quel lirismo neoplatonico, semplice e comprensibile, che attinge a pochi elementi essenziali, rappresentati dal fuoco, dall'acqua, dalla terra e dall'aria. E dall’armonizzarsi di questi elementi nelle nostre valli, in cui gli aspiranti, oltre alle promesse di buon governo, si fossero mostrati, nei manifesti elettorali, suonando il flauto campestre, strumento rustico e divino, prerogativa dei semplici e dei puri. Invece capita spesso che “chi arriva, sona”, come dicono a Preci. Beata umbritudine, umbra beatitudine.
Giovanni Picuti
abcabc@cline.it
dal Corriere dell'Umbria del 5.5.2011
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My previous attempt to make it up to Jin Mao Tower by sunset was foiled when our driver took a wrong turn and deposited us into the 9th circle of Shanghai-traffic hell. We were nearing the end of our stay in China and I still had not gotten any “I am looking down on you mere mortals”, shots so I was extra determined to get here. On this day, I had already dragged my family to Suzhou and back and we were dangerously low on fun-happy-sparkles-energy because our last meal had been over fourteen hours ago (except for the baby, she eats a man-sized meal every two hours). The baby gave me an annoyed look as I used her as an excuse to bypass the huge line to the elevator that took us to the observation deck. A quick ride up to the top and the doors opened up to reveal pandemonium.
There were droves of Chinese tour groups, school kids and guides with megaphones waving those silly flags around. It was a photographer’s nightmare. I found a place for my family to sit down while I squeezed through hot, sweaty masses of people to finally find this spot. I waited for the light to be just right, fired off a few shots and got the heck out of there. Even as we were in the elevator just about to escape the craziness, an old man decided to jump out as the doors were closing. Oh man …
I wish I could say the rest of the evening went any better, but we ended up spending over $100 dollars on crappy food at a fancy restaurant and having to make a quick exit as the baby’s good will finally ran out and she let us have it. My poor family endured a lot to get this shot, but now that a few weeks have gone by and emotions are no longer raw, they saw the final product and begrudgingly decided it was worth it. Thanks for your patience ladies. Enjoy the view of Shanghai’s sprawling megalopolis at your leisure. =P
… this photo looks awesome on a big screen … you can almost see the big boss through the window, yelling at his employees in the building 30 miles away.