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All artwork is © Cory Varcoe, All Rights Reserved. You may not use, replicate, manipulate, redistribute, or modify this image without my explicit written consent
RepRap is a self-replicating 3D printer. It builds its own gears and components. (detail photos)
The coiled polymer feed looks like an IV bag bobbing over the working tip. The dual print head is affectionately called Zaphod.
Scattered about are sci foo camp tents… and the ubiquitous “foo bar” beckons in the background, serving variable drafts.
Concrete pillboxes built to replicate Nazi bunkers rest on an old cattle farm now an area of critical environmental concern managed by the BLM in southwest Oregon, Sept. 26, 2018. BLM video: Toshio Suzuki
A quiet oak savanna in southwest Oregon has a World War II story to tell.
It was the summer of 1942 when thousands of young American troops started arriving in Oregon to prepare for battle.
Only months prior, immediately after the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor and America’s entry into WWII, the U.S. Army broke ground on Camp White, a massively ambitious training ground for troops north of Medford.
The national war effort was ramping up, and from the rationing at home to the drill sergeants yelling at new draftees, the task at hand was unified: Get America prepared for war as fast as possible.
At Camp White, in the heart of the Rogue River Valley, it got loud very quick.
Construction crews worked 24 hours a day until the base, consisting of 1,300 structures, was complete. Barracks, mess halls, a railroad, full electrical grid and sewer system were all built in six months.
And then the troops arrived.
The newly reinstated 91st Division went on 91-mile-long hikes.
They fired bazookas, mortars and tanks.
And they attacked concrete pillboxes built to replicate Nazi bunkers.
Despite creating what was then Oregon’s second most populous city at 40,000 people, there are now only a few lasting structures proving Camp White ever existed. Sadly, there are even fewer first-hand memories.
The pillboxes are still standing, though. They simultaneously represent a mostly forgotten military legacy and since 2013, an opportunity for historic preservation.
After decades of private cattle farming, Camp White’s pillboxes now rest on public land.
Read the full story about the Camp White pillboxes that rest on the northeast side of Upper Table Rock, an area of critical environmental concern for the BLM: www.facebook.com/notes/blm-oregon-washington/the-wwii-leg...
Take a virtual tour of the pillboxes via this 360-degree video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XgHu5y-TtAw
U.S. Soldiers of 1st Battalion, 4th Infantry Regiment, replicating the opposing force, advance on the objective in an M113 armored personnel carrier during exercise Combined Resolve II at the Joint Multinational Readiness Center in Hohenfels, Germany, May 22, 2014. Combined Resolve II is a multinational decisive action training environment exercise occurring at the Joint Multinational Training Command’s Hohenfels and Grafenwoehr Training Areas that involves more than 4,000 participants from 15 partner nations. The intent of the exercise is to train and prepare a U.S. led multinational brigade to interoperate with multiple partner nations and execute unified land operations against a complex threat while improving the combat readiness of all participants. (U.S. Army photo by Spc. John Cress Jr./Released)
Replicate the web link for a possibility to win the reward: giveaway.amazon.com/p/53fbc84770742142 Premium quality plastic container to make use of with traveling toiletries, cosmetics or various other usages. Product: PP Weight: 96g Bundle: 1 x 50ml pump container (12.5 * 3.2 centimeters) 2 x 80ml flip-cap container (11 * 3.5 centimeters) 1 x 50ml
Shakaland Village Shaka Zulu Kraal Cultural Replication of a Zulu “Umuzi” or Homestead Normanhurst Farm Nkwalini Kwazulu-Natal South Africa May 1998
Sadly, Shakaland has now permanently closed in 2025
www.southafrica.net/au/en/travel/article/aha-shakaland-ho...
This wedding cake was replicated from an image I was given by the bride. Unfortunately I'm unable to credit the original, as I don't know where it came from. I would have chosen to do a couple of things differently had it been my own design. :)
The bride arranged for a fresh flower topper, so hopefully I'll be able to obtain a picture of the finished product!
The top and middle tiers were both chocolate mud, and the bottom tier was a dummy. It's hard to tell from the pic, but the dots on the quilting are piped royal icing dots which have been painted silver. Ribbons and brooches were supplied by the bride.
replicated for safety's sake from the now-deleted TamIAm: "Only the second greatest thing I've ever seen"
photos1.blogger.com/img/89/961/400/cor_blimey.jpg
tamiam.blogspot.com/2004/10/only-second-greatest-thing-iv...
go-blog-go.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109768209...
"Thematic consonance is all, I tell you."
The EBRD and its donors have supported the construction of a sanitary landfill and the establishment of the first waste sorting plant in the country
Georgia, just as everywhere else, if there is one public service people tend to overlook, it is solid waste management. No one wants to know what happens to the rubbish we throw away. Once it’s dumped in a bin, all we want is for it to go away. But where it goes and the way it is treated actually makes the difference between a liveable, safe urban space and a dangerously contaminated one.
So the work of someone like Tamaz Tutusani, a municipal driver of refuse-collector trucks in Rustavi, is crucial for preserving our cities and allows us to carry on with our lives without having to worry about the final destination of our waste.
Until recently, waste disposal was a serious issue for Rustavi, an industrial city 25 kilometres east of the Georgian capital, Tbilisi, and home to 120,000 people. Solid waste was transported and dumped into the same landfill that serves the capital. But that landfill doesn’t have the right capacity or the necessary hygiene standards to guarantee a risk-free environment.
So Rustavi’s municipality decided to construct an integrated sanitary landfill and finally implement international standards for waste management that can ensure the entire system is efficient and sustainable in the long run.
And this innovative plan has now become a reality thanks to an EBRD loan worth €1.6 million and grant co-financing from the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency (SIDA) and BP that provided €1.7 million and over €700,000 respectively.
“We established a new waste management company to look after all landfill operations” explained Khatuna Tegetashvili, the director of LTD Rustavi Landfill. “Our employees were trained to boost their know-how of all matters relating to solid waste, from health and safety to equipment maintenance and public tendering for supplies.”
This technical cooperation project, which is part of the overall renewal, was funded by the government of Austria and the Early Transition Countries Fund.
The rubbish Mr Tutusani collects is now taken to the brand new landfill. The landfill is safe for the environment because it has been constructed in compliance with EU directives, which, for instance, make sure rain does not penetrate inside and control the accumulation and migration of gas formed by the waste.
The landfill serves also the small town of Gardabani, which, as per the municipality’s overall renovation plan, has shut down its old, unsanitary dumpsite.
Moreover, the project introduced waste recycling to Georgia for the first time. The large warehouse where the new sorting line is located, right next to the landfill, is the first stop for Mr Tutusani’s truck. The waste is unloaded on a conveyor belt where trained workers can manually divide plastic, cellophane and cardboard from the rest.
All different materials are then collected and compressed together. In this way they will be sold and reused by various industries.
For now only three per cent of the total solid waste that reaches Rustavi’s landfill is recycled. It’s an encouraging first step that eventually, in the municipality’s long-term vision, will lead to the introduction of recycling at source, which is more effective and less expensive.
“Our work and the whole waste collection and disposal process have improved,” said Mr Tutusani in a rest break while his truck unloaded rubbish bags.
The Georgian government has every intention to replicate the success of this project in other regions. And the EBRD and its donors are ready to provide their financial support and expertise so that the people of Georgia can continue to live in clean and safe cities, blissfully oblivious of what happens to their rubbish.
This is one photo that can never be replicated as apparently this WW2 structure was demolished two days ago on 23rd March 2017.
There is much speculation as to what led to its demise, I'll leave you to research it for yourself.
This image is the copyright of © Michael John Stokes; Any users, found to replicate, reproduce, circulate, distribute, download, manipulate or otherwise use my images without my written consent will be in breach of copyright laws. Please contact me at mjs@opobs.co.uk for permission to use any of my photographs.
PLEASE NOTE: Before adding any of my photographs to your 'Favorites', please check out my policy on this issue on my profile.
The 3D model: www.thingiverse.com/thing:69491
The 3D printer: makerbot.creativetools.se
For more information creative-tools.com
I have passed St Mary a number of times since travelling to see the orchids at a nearby reserve. So with some time to kill a couple of weeks ago, I decide to call in.
The church is nearer to the village of Metfield than the one it is parish church for, and parking was problematic, as the church is off the main road, and the small houses and farms that make this part of Withersdale all had rather unwelcoming do not park here signs, and nearer the church, do not park on the grass signs. So where doe the visitor who arrives by car actually park? I ended up on the verge of the B road that passes close by, but the unwelcoming nature of the area had put me in a bad mood.
St mary is a small and simple church, a small bellcote at the west end, a fine ancient font on a new pedestal, some small but old pews and a fine roof.
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(Introduction: Back in 2002, Withersdale was the 500th church on the Suffolk Churches site. You might say that the end of the journey was in view. I had recently had a conversation with some friends about writing parodies, using the style of other authors for those things we would have written anyway. One friend, a teacher, claimed to have written an entire school report in the style of Raymond Chandler. Some writers are easy to replicate - TS Eliot and Hemingway, for example - but it is harder to sustain a parody when the parodied writer is best known for going on at length. I said I'd have a go at Proust, which I did here, and James Joyce for church 501, Bungay St Mary. It's not for me to say how successful the parodies are, although the Joyce one has been complimented kindly by some of the man's fans. Nobody has ever said anything about the Withersdale parody - perhaps more people read Joyce than Proust, I don't know. In 2007, when I began revisiting Suffolk churches to replace the old photographs I had taken with brand spanking new digital ones, I came back to Withersdale. Unfortunately, I got here at the dullest hour on a dull day, and so the exteriors are not what I had hoped for. Still, that's a good excuse to go back again. As for the text, I have not seen any reason to change it, other than to add one hyperlink to a page on the Norfolk Churches site. I realise that this will be an annoyance for anyone wanting to find out more about Withersdale and its church. For this, I apologise.)
2002: For a long time, I used to read French novels in bed. And then, mid-morning, I'd get up and wander through an industrial wasteland.
I was living in Sheffield, in South Yorkshire, in the years when the coal and steel industries were finally coming to an end, and I'd walk through the battlefields of Brightside and Attercliffe, wondering at the abandoned factories and mills, and the wasted infrastructure, the boarded-up pubs and shops, the graffiti, the row upon row of derelict terraces. One day, I even found an old railway station, the door onto the platform hanging open, the wind howling through the gap into the tunnel, the line going nowhere.
Often, I would imagine what these places had once been like, when they were still alive, for I was not born to this, coming as I did from the flat fields of East Anglia. The first time I saw it all, it was already over. I loved the litany of names: Attercliffe and Brightside I have already mentioned, and there was Eccleshall and Carbrook, Intake and Millhouses. I don't know now if I knew them from visiting them, or only knew them from their names, bold on the fronts of buses.
I would wander alone through the broken streets, gazing up at the brick-faced shells, and imagine them full of activity, and try to decide what this winch had been for, or the platform where the lorries came, or the booth by the gate. This was all the evidence, and this was all I had to go on, as I reconstructed a world I had never seen. And what really interested me was not the places at all, but the people who had once inhabited them; those people who had now gone, but these buildings were once the focus of their lives, and they had known them very differently to the way I was knowing them now.
Using material evidence to reconstruct their activities, I could perhaps begin to understand their lives.
I was thinking about this as I cycled along the Waveney valley - but then something else happened. I had come to Withersdale from Weybread, up on the Norfolk border. In fact, I had reached Weybread from the northern side of the Waveney, since the most direct route from Mendham to Weybread had been across the river into Norfolk, and through the lanes that lead into Harleston. About fifteen years before all this happened, when I was living on the south coast of England, I had had a brief but passionate affair with a girl who came from Alburgh, a Norfolk village on the other side of the border to Mendham. I hadn't thought of this for years, but suddenly seeing the name of the village, which I had never visited, on a road sign, startled me. And then something extraordinary happened. As I sat on my bike, savouring this shock of recognition, an agricultural lorry passed me, and I noticed that the name of the town painted on the side of the lorry was the same south coast town where this occured.
I was still wondering at this as I threaded through the back lanes between Weybread and Withersdale, a world away from the post-industrial ruins of South Yorkshire, or the misery of the south coast, for I had not often been happy there, and never wish to be so poor or so far from home again. When I moved to the south, I had not many months since finished an increasingly pointless relationship that should have stopped after six months, and unfortunately went on for another two years. My habit of reading Proust in bed had come towards the end of this; that, and wandering around east Sheffield, were, I think, displacement activities of a kind, not only to avoid spending too much time with her, but also to avoid doing anything about it. It also had much to do with me leaving Sheffield shortly afterwards. It was a year later that I moved to the south coast, and I was already seeing the girl who would become my wife. And then I met this woman from a Norfolk village shortly after I arrived in the unfamiliar coastal town, in the warmest October of the century. The leaves were only just beginning to colour and fall, and I remembered the way the woods rode the Downs, and the way the fog hid all day in the valleys.
And then I thought, well, it must have been more than fifteen years ago, because I could remember leaving her bed in the early hours of one Friday morning, the paleness just beginning to appear in the east, and being stopped on a roadblock on the bypass, where it joined the Lewes road. It was the night that the IRA had bombed the Tory party conference at the Grand Hotel, and everyone leaving town was being stopped and questioned. I had no idea what had happened, and the policeman didn't tell me. As I explained where I had been, I watched the police coaches hurtling back westwards out of Kent, away from the miners' strike.
When I had made my life less complicated, I used to cycle around the Sussex lanes, finding lonely churches and sitting in them. When I'd lived in Sheffield, I liked to wander up on to the moors, perhaps to Bradfield, where the church looks out on an empty sky. Standing in its doorway took me out of the world altogether, and was the first time I experienced that sense of communion with the past. St Mary Magdalene, Withersdale, reminded me a bit of Bradfield, although busy Suffolk is much noisier than the peace around Sheffield. Here was an ancient space, plainly Norman in origin, that had stood here stubbornly while the world changed around it. Wars had come and gone, times of great prosperity had warmed it and depressions had made it cold again. Disease and famine had emptied it, until the irrepressible energy of human activity had restored it to life. And it was still here, so unlike our own transitory existences. But perhaps there is a resilience in stone that reflects the human spirit.
What would I have found most extraordinary back then, on the south coast? That we would now have known ten years of relative peace in Ireland? That the time of the Tories would finally come to an end, and it would be hard to imagine them ever regaining power? That I would be married with children in East Anglia? I think I would have found the Tories being out of power least believable.
I had been looking forward to reaching Withersdale for several years, and it had increasingly become the sole quest of the day, like people who set out on a journey to see with their own eyes some city they have always longed to visit, and imagine that they can taste in reality what has charmed their fancy.
Everybody who writes about it seems to like it, Mortlock calling it a dear little church, Simon Jenkins thought it unusually atmospheric, and Arthur Mee writes as though he actually visited the place for a change, and curiously mentions half a dozen pathetic old benches... which once held an honoured place in God's house and are now a shelter from the sun for a few of God's sheep, which is typical of barmy Arthur.
The church sits right beside the busy Halesworth to Harleston road, which you wouldn't expect from its reputation for being remote and peaceful. Incidentally, this is a road I always find difficult when I'm cycling, since it bends and twists through high Suffolk, and you can never be entirely clear about which way it is heading, and several times I have made the mistake of absent-mindedly turning for Harleston when I wanted Halesworth, and so on. Withersdale was the last piece of the jigsaw in north east Suffolk for me; I had visited every single other medieval church beyond the curve that connects Diss in Norfolk to Halesworth, and then the sea.
It was a crisp, bright afternoon towards the end of February, and my next stop after Withersdale would be the railway station at Halesworth, where I planned to catch the train that left at 4.30pm, en route from Lowestoft to Ipswich. Before Halesworth, the train would pass through Beccles, where I had stepped off of it earlier that morning, and cycled off to visit the churches of Worlingham, Mettingham and Shipmeadow workhouse. It was after this that I had made the somewhat convoluted journey through the Saints to reach Mendham in the early afternoon. Each of the Saints is an event, as if a counterpoint to the time it takes to travel through them, creating a history, a tradition of the distance, each one connected to and yet significantly different from the others, and sometimes events can overtake history and change its course, as I had discovered.
Now, I was nine miles from Halesworth, with less than an hour to go before the train left, which would give me time to visit Withersdale, but would concentrate my mind, since the 4.30pm train was the last that I could reasonably catch, having no lights, and needing to cycle a further two miles from the station when I arrived in Ipswich.
So, if I was to decide that the setting or interior of St Mary Magdalene were in any way timeless, this would have to be set against a pressing urgency - or, if not quite an urgency, a sense that an urgency would be created if I did not remain aware of the passing of time.
I stepped through the gate into the sloping churchyard, passing 18th and 19th century headstones as I walked to the east of the building. Here, I discovered that the church was not entirely rendered rubble, for the east wall had been partly rebuilt in red brick, and the window frame above was made of wood, which would be a memory of times past, and a hint of things to come.
The south side of the building was dappled in winter sunlight, and I remembered how Arthur Mee had found this church surrounded by elm trees, and how their leaves must have sent shadows scurrying along this wall, and how the sunlight had been washing it for generations. I wondered if there could be some kind of photographic effect, perhaps caused by chemicals in the rendering responding to the photons in the sunlight, and I remembered how Proust had watched from his curtained apartment the streets below, imagining scenes into stillness. I thought of my own small world, my transitory journey, and how this would be a blink of an eye, a relative stillness in comparison to the long centuries the wall had stood, and how everything I cared about, my passions, hopes and fears, signified nothing beside it.
I looked up at the pretty weather-boarded turret, and the little porch below. Although the church is visibly Norman in construction, the turret and porch have a later historical resonance, because they were the gift of William Sancroft, later to be Archbishop of Canterbury, who in the long years of the 17th century Commonwealth lived at nearby Fressingfield, during the time that the episcopal government of the Church of England was supressed.
Fressingfield was his native village, but Fressingfield church is a medieval wonder, and it is not too fanciful to imagine that Sancroft made St Mary Magdalene his quiet project, although of course it cannot be the work of one man, or even one generation or epoch, but his touch must have fallen firmly here.
I stepped inside to a cool light suffusing the nave and chancel, and I climbed up to the tiny gallery at the west end to look down on the space below. St Mary Magdalene is a relatively unspoiled prayerbook church, almost entirely of the 17th century, with some sympathetic Victorian additions. The pulpit is against the north wall as at All Saints South Elmham, to take full advantage of the theatrical sunlight from the windows in the south wall. The pulpit is tiny, barely two feet across, and the benches face it, and so do the box pews to south and east.
The woodwork is mellow, breathing a calmness into the silence, while the chancel beyond is gorgeous, a tiny altar surrounded by three-sided rails sitting beneath the elegant window, two brass vases of pussywillow sweet upon its cloth. I stood for some time looking down, and then descended, finding a superb font carved with a tree of life and a grinning face. It may be Norman, it may be older. It is set upon a modern brick base, but even this is fitting, as are the benches with strange ends, with a hole for the candlepricks, and I ran my hand over the golden curve, an eroticism stirring in the memory as the scent of flowers in a window splay touched my senses, an echo of a spring evening some twenty years before, when I had first ever thought myself in love, and this came to me now.
There was a crisp confidence to this building; it was expressed in the curious elegance of the 17th century English Church which had furnished it that, despite so many traumas, had finally come to represent the simplicity of the Puritans, the seemliness of the Anglicans, and that was the Elizabethan Settlement of the previous century fulfilled. Here Sancroft waited, while the world turned upside down around him, and then Cromwell died, and so too did the Puritan project; Sancroft became Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London, witnessing its destruction by fire in 1666, and overseeing its complete rebuilding in the classical style, and such a contrast with St Mary Magdalene it must have made that perhaps he sometimes wished he was back here. A High Anglican, he crowned the Catholic James II with some misgivings, but then refused to recognise the Protestant coup of William III in 1688, returning once more to Suffolk, where he died.
I sat in the shadowed pew and felt the distant beat, the quiet trick of history turned and played. I thought of the certainty that this interior represented, the triumph of the will, of belief over mystery, and how the rationalist, superstitious 18th century worshippers here could not have conceived of the great sacramental fire that would one day flame out of Oxford and lick them clean.
I sat there, long enough to forget that I must of necessity move on, and the place began to cast a spell which I thought mostly due to the light, which was becoming pale as the sun faded beyond the distant trees, or perhaps the silence, but I knew in fact it was because of the matter on my mind.
You see, there's another thing. A few days before my visit to Withersdale I had spent a weekend abroad with three female friends, one of whom I felt increasingly drawn to, to the extent that I wondered if anything might come of it. This was also on my mind as I sat in the neat coolness of St Mary Magdalene, looking at the pussy willows in the altar vases, and talking to someone, possibly God.
How to understand flowers on altars, I wonder. How the 18th century puritans who furnished this place would be appalled! And yet they were perfect, as if the entire building had been constructed and furnished for them to be placed here, on this day, at this time, with the late afternoon light glancing down the hillside and leading my gaze to the brass vases. What did they mean to me, in comparison with their meaning for the people who placed them there? I ought to mention that the friends I went away with were all younger then me, at least twelve years, and it is to my great delight how younger people reinvent the world I think I understand, just as I must have done, and still do for people that much older than me. This constant process of reinterpretation must be immensely annoying for those who think they have grown old and wise, but I rejoice in it; it is a beautiful chaos, and keeps the world fresh and new, and history could not exist without it. By history, I mean of course the gradual process of constant change, which was also Newman's definition of the word tradition, rather than anything about dates and famous people.
So I sat there, and wondered if I should try and make something happen with the woman I mentioned, if I should tell her how I felt, and discover if what seemed to be the case was actually so, and so as I sit here now, writing this, I know the full story, and how it finally ended some weeks later, and this makes complete the circle from the moment I crossed the Waveney at Mendham, putting in chain an irrevokable sequence that would lead me here now to this computer keyboard, on this sunny spring evening in Ipswich. In A L'ombre des Jeunes Filles en Fleurs, Proust remembers crossing France by train at night, and the dislocation and alienation of being hurtled through an invisible, unfamiliar landscape. He cannot sleep, and in the middle of the night the train stops in a secret valley, far from the nearest town, perhaps because there is a station, or because the track is blocked, I don't remember. He opens the carriage window; it is a hot, sultry night.
Suddenly, a woman appears from the nearest cottage, with a jug of coffee, and he watches her give the coffee to a group of passengers, or perhaps they were the men removing the blockage, which I think was a tree, but may have been an animal of some kind, or perhaps it was to do with a swollen river. Proust thinks of her life in this lost valley ...from which its congregated summits hid the rest of the world, she could never see anyone save those in the trains which stopped for a moment only.
She moves back down the track, and gives the narrator some coffee. Wordlessly, he drinks it, returns the bowl, and the train starts to move, and he watches her silently as she recedes into the blackness, not knowing where he is, and only being certain that he will never see her again.
Instantly, the day is magnified, signified: Il faisait grand jour maintenant, says the narrator, je m'eloignais de l'aurore... This is history, thousands of these events, infuriatingly disparate and yet somehow connected. And this is so for everyone, for millions of us. I think now of Withersdale, and see connections ramifying, spiralling outwards, always becoming endless.
Replicating the scene taken the previous evening with a PCC, but this time with a Milano. June 8, 2017. © 2017 Peter Ehrlich
The MakerBot Digitizer 3D-scanned Laser Cat model was used in this test of different layer thicknesses. The cat was scaled down to 50 mm in height and then 3D printed at the following layer heights:
- 0.40 mm (400 microns)
- 0.30 mm (300 microns)
- 0.20 mm (200 microns)
- 0.10 mm (100 microns) - Average width of a strand of human hair
- 0.05 mm (50 microns)
- 0.02 mm (20 microns)
All six cats where 3D printed on a MakerBot Replicator 2 with TRUE BLUE PLA plastic at 230 degrees C.
All layers where 3D printed with MakerWare's standard values as follows:
(400 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(300 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(200 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(100 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(50 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 60 mm/s
(20 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 40 mm/s
---
The 3D scanner: bit.ly/1a7y8hG
The 3D printer: makerbot.creativetools.se
The 3D model: www.thingiverse.com/thing:146265
The Ajanta Caves (Ajiṇṭhā leni; Marathi: अजिंठा लेणी) in Aurangabad district of Maharashtra, India are about 30 rock-cut Buddhist cave monuments which date from the 2nd century BCE to about 480 or 650 CE. The caves include paintings and sculptures described by the government Archaeological Survey of India as "the finest surviving examples of Indian art, particularly painting", which are masterpieces of Buddhist religious art, with figures of the Buddha and depictions of the Jataka tales. The caves were built in two phases starting around the 2nd century BCE, with the second group of caves built around 400–650 CE according to older accounts, or all in a brief period of 460 to 480 according to the recent proposals of Walter M. Spink. The site is a protected monument in the care of the Archaeological Survey of India, and since 1983, the Ajanta Caves have been a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The caves are located in the Indian state of Maharashtra, near Jalgaon and just outside the village of Ajinṭhā 20°31′56″N 75°44′44″E), about 59 kilometres from Jalgaon railway station on the Delhi – Mumbai line and Howrah-Nagpur-Mumbai line of the Central Railway zone, and 104 kilometres from the city of Aurangabad. They are 100 kilometres from the Ellora Caves, which contain Hindu and Jain temples as well as Buddhist caves, the last dating from a period similar to Ajanta. The Ajanta caves are cut into the side of a cliff that is on the south side of a U-shaped gorge on the small river Waghur, and although they are now along and above a modern pathway running across the cliff they were originally reached by individual stairs or ladders from the side of the river 35 to 110 feet below.
The area was previously heavily forested, and after the site ceased to be used the caves were covered by jungle until accidentally rediscovered in 1819 by a British officer on a hunting party. They are Buddhist monastic buildings, apparently representing a number of distinct "monasteries" or colleges. The caves are numbered 1 to 28 according to their place along the path, beginning at the entrance. Several are unfinished and some barely begun and others are small shrines, included in the traditional numbering as e.g. "9A"; "Cave 15A" was still hidden under rubble when the numbering was done. Further round the gorge are a number of waterfalls, which when the river is high are audible from outside the caves.
The caves form the largest corpus of early Indian wall-painting; other survivals from the area of modern India are very few, though they are related to 5th-century paintings at Sigiriya in Sri Lanka. The elaborate architectural carving in many caves is also very rare, and the style of the many figure sculptures is highly local, found only at a few nearby contemporary sites, although the Ajanta tradition can be related to the later Hindu Ellora Caves and other sites.
HISTORY
Like the other ancient Buddhist monasteries, Ajanta had a large emphasis on teaching, and was divided into several different caves for living, education and worship, under a central direction. Monks were probably assigned to specific caves for living. The layout reflects this organizational structure, with most of the caves only connected through the exterior. The 7th-century travelling Chinese scholar Xuanzang informs us that Dignaga, a celebrated Buddhist philosopher and controversialist, author of well-known books on logic, lived at Ajanta in the 5th century. In its prime the settlement would have accommodated several hundred teachers and pupils. Many monks who had finished their first training may have returned to Ajanta during the monsoon season from an itinerant lifestyle.
The caves are generally agreed to have been made in two distinct periods, separated by several centuries.
CAVES OF THE FIRST (SATAVAHANA) PERIOD
The earliest group of caves consists of caves 9, 10, 12, 13 and 15A. According to Walter Spink, they were made during the period 100 BCE to 100 CE, probably under the patronage of the Satavahana dynasty (230 BCE – c. 220 CE) who ruled the region. Other datings prefer the period 300 BCE to 100 BCE, though the grouping of the earlier caves is generally agreed. More early caves may have vanished through later excavations. Of these, caves 9 and 10 are stupa halls of chaitya-griha form, and caves 12, 13, and 15A are vihāras (see the architecture section below for descriptions of these types). The first phase is still often called the Hinayāna phase, as it originated when, using traditional terminology, the Hinayāna or Lesser Vehicle tradition of Buddhism was dominant, when the Buddha was revered symbolically. However the use of the term Hinayana for this period of Buddhism is now deprecated by historians; equally the caves of the second period are now mostly dated too early to be properly called Mahayana, and do not yet show the full expanded cast of supernatural beings characteristic of that phase of Buddhist art. The first Satavahana period caves lacked figurative sculpture, emphasizing the stupa instead, and in the caves of the second period the overwhelming majority of images represent the Buddha alone, or narrative scenes of his lives.
Spink believes that some time after the Satavahana period caves were made the site was abandoned for a considerable period until the mid-5th century, probably because the region had turned mainly Hindu
CAVES OF THE LATER OR VAKATAKA PERIOD
The second phase began in the 5th century. For a long time it was thought that the later caves were made over a long period from the 4th to the 7th centuries CE, but in recent decades a series of studies by the leading expert on the caves, Walter M. Spink, have argued that most of the work took place over the very brief period from 460 to 480 CE, during the reign of Emperor Harishena of the Vakataka dynasty. This view has been criticized by some scholars, but is now broadly accepted by most authors of general books on Indian art, for example Huntington and Harle.
The second phase is still often called the Mahāyāna or Greater Vehicle phase, but scholars now tend to avoid this nomenclature because of the problems that have surfaced regarding our understanding of Mahāyāna.
Some 20 cave temples were simultaneously created, for the most part viharas with a sanctuary at the back. The most elaborate caves were produced in this period, which included some "modernization" of earlier caves. Spink claims that it is possible to establish dating for this period with a very high level of precision; a fuller account of his chronology is given below. Although debate continues, Spink's ideas are increasingly widely accepted, at least in their broad conclusions. The Archaeological Survey of India website still presents the traditional dating: "The second phase of paintings started around 5th – 6th centuries A.D. and continued for the next two centuries". Caves of the second period are 1–8, 11, 14–29, some possibly extensions of earlier caves. Caves 19, 26, and 29 are chaitya-grihas, the rest viharas.
According to Spink, the Ajanta Caves appear to have been abandoned by wealthy patrons shortly after the fall of Harishena, in about 480 CE. They were then gradually abandoned and forgotten. During the intervening centuries, the jungle grew back and the caves were hidden, unvisited and undisturbed, although the local population were aware of at least some of them.
REDISCOVERY
On 28 April 1819, a British officer for the Madras Presidency, John Smith, of the 28th Cavalry, while hunting tiger, accidentally discovered the entrance to Cave No. 10 deep within the tangled undergrowth. There were local people already using the caves for prayers with a small fire, when he arrived. Exploring that first cave, long since a home to nothing more than birds and bats and a lair for other larger animals, Captain Smith vandalized the wall by scratching his name and the date, April 1819. Since he stood on a five-foot high pile of rubble collected over the years, the inscription is well above the eye-level gaze of an adult today. A paper on the caves by William Erskine was read to the Bombay Literary Society in 1822. Within a few decades, the caves became famous for their exotic setting, impressive architecture, and above all their exceptional, all but unique paintings. A number of large projects to copy the paintings were made in the century after rediscovery, covered below. In 1848 the Royal Asiatic Society established the "Bombay Cave Temple Commission" to clear, tidy and record the most important rock-cut sites in the Bombay Presidency, with John Wilson, as president. In 1861 this became the nucleus of the new Archaeological Survey of India. Until the Nizam of Hyderabad built the modern path between the caves, among other efforts to make the site easy to visit, a trip to Ajanta was a considerable adventure, and contemporary accounts dwell with relish on the dangers from falls off narrow ledges, animals and the Bhil people, who were armed with bows and arrows and had a fearsome reputation.
Today, fairly easily combined with Ellora in a single trip, the caves are the most popular tourist destination in Mahrashtra, and are often crowded at holiday times, increasing the threat to the caves, especially the paintings. In 2012, the Maharashtra Tourism Development Corporation announced plans to add to the ASI visitor centre at the entrance complete replicas of caves 1, 2, 16 & 17 to reduce crowding in the originals, and enable visitors to receive a better visual idea of the paintings, which are dimly-lit and hard to read in the caves. Figures for the year to March 2010 showed a total of 390,000 visitors to the site, divided into 362,000 domestic and 27,000 foreign. The trends over the previous few years show a considerable growth in domestic visitors, but a decline in foreign ones; the year to 2010 was the first in which foreign visitors to Ellora exceeded those to Ajanta.
PAINTINGS
Mural paintings survive from both the earlier and later groups of caves. Several fragments of murals preserved from the earlier caves (Caves 9 and 11) are effectively unique survivals of court-led painting in India from this period, and "show that by Sātavāhana times, if not earlier, the Indian painter had mastered an easy and fluent naturalistic style, dealing with large groups of people in a manner comparable to the reliefs of the Sāñcī toraņa crossbars".
Four of the later caves have large and relatively well-preserved mural paintings which "have come to represent Indian mural painting to the non-specialist", and fall into two stylistic groups, with the most famous in Caves 16 and 17, and apparently later paintings in Caves 1 and 2. The latter group were thought to be a century or more later than the others, but the revised chronology proposed by Spink would place them much closer to the earlier group, perhaps contemporary with it in a more progressive style, or one reflecting a team from a different region. The paintings are in "dry fresco", painted on top of a dry plaster surface rather than into wet plaster.
All the paintings appear to be the work of painters at least as used to decorating palaces as temples, and show a familiarity with and interest in details of the life of a wealthy court. We know from literary sources that painting was widely practised and appreciated in the courts of the Gupta period. Unlike much Indian painting, compositions are not laid out in horizontal compartments like a frieze, but show large scenes spreading in all directions from a single figure or group at the centre. The ceilings are also painted with sophisticated and elaborate decorative motifs, many derived from sculpture. The paintings in cave 1, which according to Spink was commissioned by Harisena himself, concentrate on those Jataka tales which show previous lives of the Buddha as a king, rather than as an animal or human commoner, and so show settings from contemporary palace life.
In general the later caves seem to have been painted on finished areas as excavating work continued elsewhere in the cave, as shown in caves 2 and 16 in particular. According to Spink's account of the chronology of the caves, the abandonment of work in 478 after a brief busy period accounts for the absence of painting in caves such as 4 and 17, the later being plastered in preparation for paintings that were never done.
COPIES
The paintings have deteriorated significantly since they were rediscovered, and a number of 19th-century copies and drawings are important for a complete understanding of the works. However, the earliest projects to copy the paintings were plagued by bad fortune. In 1846, Major Robert Gill, an Army officer from Madras presidency and a painter, was appointed by the Royal Asiatic Society to replicate the frescoes on the cave walls to exhibit these paintings in England. Gill worked on his painting at the site from 1844 to 1863 (though he continued to be based there until his death in 1875, writing books and photographing) and made 27 copies of large sections of murals, but all but four were destroyed in a fire at the Crystal Palace in London in 1866, where they were on display.
Another attempt was made in 1872 when the Bombay Presidency commissioned John Griffiths, then principal of the Bombay School of Art, to work with his students to make new copies, again for shipping to England. They worked on this for thirteen years and some 300 canvases were produced, many of which were displayed at the Imperial Institute on Exhibition Road in London, one of the forerunners of the Victoria and Albert Museum. But in 1885 another fire destroyed over a hundred paintings that were in storage. The V&A still has 166 paintings surviving from both sets, though none have been on permanent display since 1955. The largest are some 3 × 6 metres. A conservation project was undertaken on about half of them in 2006, also involving the University of Northumbria. Griffith and his students had unfortunately painted many of the paintings with "cheap varnish" in order to make them easier to see, which has added to the deterioration of the originals, as has, according to Spink and others, recent cleaning by the ASI.
A further set of copies were made between 1909 and 1911 by Christiana Herringham (Lady Herringham) and a group of students from the Calcutta School of Art that included the future Indian Modernist painter Nandalal Bose. The copies were published in full colour as the first publication of London's fledgling India Society. More than the earlier copies, these aimed to fill in holes and damage to recreate the original condition rather than record the state of the paintings as she was seeing them. According to one writer, unlike the paintings created by her predecessors Griffiths and Gill, whose copies were influenced by British Victorian styles of painting, those of the Herringham expedition preferred an 'Indian Renascence' aesthetic of the type pioneered by Abanindranath Tagore.
Early photographic surveys were made by Robert Gill, who learnt to use a camera from about 1856, and whose photos, including some using stereoscopy, were used in books by him and Fergusson (many are available online from the British Library), then Victor Goloubew in 1911 and E.L. Vassey, who took the photos in the four volume study of the caves by Ghulam Yazdani (published 1930–1955).
ARCHITECTURE
The monasteries mostly consist of vihara halls for prayer and living, which are typically rectangular with small square dormitory cells cut into the walls, and by the second period a shrine or sanctuary at the rear centred on a large statue of the Buddha, also carved from the living rock. This change reflects the movement from Hinayana to Mahāyāna Buddhism. The other type of main hall is the narrower and higher chaitya hall with a stupa as the focus at the far end, and a narrow aisle around the walls, behind a range of pillars placed close together. Other plainer rooms were for sleeping and other activities. Some of the caves have elaborate carved entrances, some with large windows over the door to admit light. There is often a colonnaded porch or verandah, with another space inside the doors running the width of the cave.
The central square space of the interior of the viharas is defined by square columns forming a more or less square open area. Outside this are long rectangular aisles on each side, forming a kind of cloister. Along the side and rear walls are a number of small cells entered by a narrow doorway; these are roughly square, and have small niches on their back walls. Originally they had wooden doors. The centre of the rear wall has a larger shrine-room behind, containing a large Buddha statue. The viharas of the earlier period are much simpler, and lack shrines. Spink in fact places the change to a design with a shrine to the middle of the second period, with many caves being adapted to add a shrine in mid-excavation, or after the original phase.
The plan of Cave 1 shows one of the largest viharas, but is fairly typical of the later group. Many others, such as Cave 16, lack the vestibule to the shrine, which leads straight off the main hall. Cave 6 is two viharas, one above the other, connected by internal stairs, with sanctuaries on both levels.
The four completed chaitya halls are caves 9 and 10 from the early period, and caves 19 and 26 from the later period of construction. All follow the typical form found elsewhere, with high ceilings and a central "nave" leading to the stupa, which is near the back, but allows walking behind it, as walking around stupas was (and remains) a common element of Buddhist worship (pradakshina). The later two have high ribbed roofs, which reflect timber forms, and the earlier two are thought to have used actual timber ribs, which have now perished. The two later halls have a rather unusual arrangement (also found in Cave 10 at Ellora) where the stupa is fronted by a large relief sculpture of the Buddha, standing in Cave 19 and seated in Cave 26. Cave 29 is a late and very incomplete chaitya hall.
The form of columns in the work of the first period is very plain and un-embellished, with both chaitya halls using simple octagonal columns, which were painted with figures. In the second period columns were far more varied and inventive, often changing profile over their height, and with elaborate carved capitals, often spreading wide. Many columns are carved over all their surface, some fluted and others carved with decoration all over, as in cave 1.
The flood basalt rock of the cliff, part of the Deccan Traps formed by successive volcanic eruptions at the end of the Cretaceous, is layered horizontally, and somewhat variable in quality, so the excavators had to amend their plans in places, and in places there have been collapses in the intervening centuries, as with the lost portico to cave 1. Excavation began by cutting a narrow tunnel at roof level, which was expanded downwards and outwards; the half-built vihara cave 24 shows the method. Spink believes that for the first caves of the second period the excavators had to relearn skills and techniques that had been lost in the centuries since the first period, which were then transmitted to be used at later rock-cut sites in the region, such as Ellora, and the Elephanta, Bagh, Badami and Aurangabad Caves.
The caves from the first period seem to have been paid for by a number of different patrons, with several inscriptions recording the donation of particular portions of a single cave, but according to Spink the later caves were each commissioned as a complete unit by a single patron from the local rulers or their court elites. After the death of Harisena smaller donors got their chance to add small "shrinelets" between the caves or add statues to existing caves, and some two hundred of these "intrusive" additions were made in sculpture, with a further number of intrusive paintings, up to three hundred in cave 10 alone.
A grand gateway to the site, at the apex of the gorge's horsehoe between caves 15 and 16, was approached from the river, and is decorated with elephants on either side and a nāga, or protective snake deity.
ICONOGRAPHY OF THE CAVES
In the pre-Christian era, the Buddha was represented symbolically, in the form of the stupa. Thus, halls were made with stupas to venerate the Buddha. In later periods the images of the Buddha started to be made in coins, relic caskets, relief or loose sculptural forms, etc. However, it took a while for the human representation of the Buddha to appear in Buddhist art. One of the earliest evidences of the Buddha's human representations are found at Buddhist archaeological sites, such as Goli, Nagarjunakonda, and Amaravati. The monasteries of those sites were built in less durable media, such as wood, brick, and stone. As far as the genre of rock-cut architecture is concerned it took many centuries for the Buddha image to be depicted. Nobody knows for sure at which rock-cut cave site the first image of the Buddha was depicted. Current research indicates that Buddha images in a portable form, made of wood or stone, were introduced, for the first time, at Kanheri, to be followed soon at Ajanta Cave 8 (Dhavalikar, Jadhav, Spink, Singh). While the Kanheri example dates to 4th or 5th century CE, the Ajanta example has been dated to c. 462–478 CE (Spink). None of the rock-cut monasteries prior to these dates, and other than these examples, show any Buddha image although hundreds of rock-cut caves were made throughout India during the first few centuries CE. And, in those caves, it is the stupa that is the object of veneration, not the image. Images of the Buddha are not found in Buddhist sailagrhas (rock-cut complexes) until the times of the Kanheri (4th–5th century CE) and Ajanta examples (c. 462–478 CE).
The caves of the second period, now all dated to the 5th century, were typically described as "Mahayana", but do not show the features associated with later Mahayana Buddhism. Although the beginnings of Mahāyāna teachings go back to the 1st century there is little art and archaeological evidence to suggest that it became a mainstream cult for several centuries. In Mahayana it is not Gautama Buddha but the Bodhisattva who is important, including "deity" Bodhisattva like Manjushri and Tara, as well as aspects of the Buddha such as Aksobhya, and Amitabha. Except for a few Bodhisattva, these are not depicted at Ajanta, where the Buddha remains the dominant figure. Even the Bodhisattva images of Ajanta are never central objects of worship, but are always shown as attendants of the Buddha in the shrine. If a Bodhisattva is shown in isolation, as in the Astabhaya scenes, these were done in the very last years of activities at Ajanta, and are mostly 'intrusive' in nature, meaning that they were not planned by the original patrons, and were added by new donors after the original patrons had suddenly abandoned the region in the wake of Emperor Harisena's death.
The contrast between iconic and aniconic representations, that is, the stupa on one hand and the image of the Buddha on the other, is now being seen as a construct of the modern scholar rather than a reality of the past. The second phase of Ajanta shows that the stupa and image coincided together. If the entire corpus of the art of Ajanta including sculpture, iconography, architecture, epigraphy, and painting are analysed afresh it will become clear that there was no duality between the symbolic and human forms of the Buddha, as far as the 5th-century phase of Ajanta is concerned. That is why most current scholars tend to avoid the terms 'Hinayana' and 'Mahayana' in the context of Ajanta. They now prefer to call the second phase by the ruling dynasty, as the Vākāţaka phase.
CAVES
CAVE 1
Cave 1 was built on the eastern end of the horse-shoe shaped scarp, and is now the first cave the visitor encounters. This would when first made have been a less prominent position, right at the end of the row. According to Spink, it is one of the latest caves to have been excavated, when the best sites had been taken, and was never fully inaugurated for worship by the dedication of the Buddha image in the central shrine. This is shown by the absence of sooty deposits from butter lamps on the base of the shrine image, and the lack of damage to the paintings that would have been happened if the garland-hooks around the shrine had been in use for any period of time. Although there is no epigraphic evidence, Spink believes that the Vākāţaka Emperor Harishena was the benefactor of the work, and this is reflected in the emphasis on imagery of royalty in the cave, with those Jakata tales being selected that tell of those previous lives of the Buddha in which he was royal.
The cliff has a more steep slope here than at other caves, so to achieve a tall grand facade it was necessary to cut far back into the slope, giving a large courtyard in front of the facade. There was originally a columned portico in front of the present facade, which can be seen "half-intact in the 1880s" in pictures of the site, but this fell down completely and the remains, despite containing fine carving, were carelessly thrown down the slope into the river, from where they have been lost, presumably carried away in monsoon torrents.
This cave has one of the most elaborate carved façades, with relief sculptures on entablature and ridges, and most surfaces embellished with decorative carving. There are scenes carved from the life of the Buddha as well as a number of decorative motifs. A two pillared portico, visible in the 19th-century photographs, has since perished. The cave has a front-court with cells fronted by pillared vestibules on either side. These have a high plinth level. The cave has a porch with simple cells on both ends. The absence of pillared vestibules on the ends suggest that the porch was not excavated in the latest phase of Ajanta when pillared vestibules had become a necessity and norm. Most areas of the porch were once covered with murals, of which many fragments remain, especially on the ceiling. There are three doorways: a central doorway and two side doorways. Two square windows were carved between the doorways to brighten the interiors.
Each wall of the hall inside is nearly 12 m long and 6.1 m high. Twelve pillars make a square colonnade inside supporting the ceiling, and creating spacious aisles along the walls. There is a shrine carved on the rear wall to house an impressive seated image of the Buddha, his hands being in the dharmachakrapravartana mudra. There are four cells on each of the left, rear, and the right walls, though due to rock fault there are none at the ends of the rear aisle. The walls are covered with paintings in a fair state of preservation, though the full scheme was never completed. The scenes depicted are mostly didactic, devotional, and ornamental, with scenes from the Jataka stories of the Buddha's former existences as a bodhisattva), the life of the Gautama Buddha, and those of his veneration. The two most famous individual painted images at Ajanta are the two over-life size figures of the protective bodhisattvas Padmapani and Vajrapani on either side of the entrance to the Buddha shrine on the wall of the rear aisle (see illustrations above). According to Spink, the original dating of the paintings to about 625 arose largely or entirely because James Fegusson, a 19th-century architectural historian, had decided that a scene showing an ambassador being received, with figures in Persian dress, represented a recorded embassy to Persia (from a Hindu monarch at that) around that date.
CAVE 2
Cave 2, adjacent to Cave 1, is known for the paintings that have been preserved on its walls, ceilings, and pillars. It looks similar to Cave 1 and is in a better state of preservation.
Cave 2 has a porch quite different from Cave one. Even the façade carvings seem to be different. The cave is supported by robust pillars, ornamented with designs. The front porch consists of cells supported by pillared vestibules on both ends. The cells on the previously "wasted areas" were needed to meet the greater housing requirements in later years. Porch-end cells became a trend in all later Vakataka excavations. The simple single cells on porch-ends were converted into CPVs or were planned to provide more room, symmetry, and beauty.
The paintings on the ceilings and walls of this porch have been widely published. They depict the Jataka tales that are stories of the Buddha's life in former existences as Bodhisattva. Just as the stories illustrated in cave 1 emphasize kingship, those in cave 2 show many "noble and powerful" women in prominent roles, leading to suggestions that the patron was an unknown woman. The porch's rear wall has a doorway in the center, which allows entrance to the hall. On either side of the door is a square-shaped window to brighten the interior.
The hall has four colonnades which are supporting the ceiling and surrounding a square in the center of the hall. Each arm or colonnade of the square is parallel to the respective walls of the hall, making an aisle in between. The colonnades have rock-beams above and below them. The capitals are carved and painted with various decorative themes that include ornamental, human, animal, vegetative, and semi-divine forms.
Paintings appear on almost every surface of the cave except for the floor. At various places the art work has become eroded due to decay and human interference. Therefore, many areas of the painted walls, ceilings, and pillars are fragmentary. The painted narratives of the Jataka tales are depicted only on the walls, which demanded the special attention of the devotee. They are didactic in nature, meant to inform the community about the Buddha's teachings and life through successive rebirths. Their placement on the walls required the devotee to walk through the aisles and 'read' the narratives depicted in various episodes. The narrative episodes are depicted one after another although not in a linear order. Their identification has been a core area of research since the site's rediscovery in 1819. Dieter Schlingloff's identifications have updated our knowledge on the subject.
CAVE 4
The Archeological Survey of India board outside the caves gives the following detail about cave 4: "This is the largest monastery planned on a grandiose scale but was never finished. An inscription on the pedestal of the buddha's image mentions that it was a gift from a person named Mathura and paleographically belongs to 6th century A.D. It consists of a verandah, a hypostylar hall, sanctum with an antechamber and a series of unfinished cells. The rear wall of the verandah contains the panel of Litany of Avalokiteśvara".
The sanctuary houses a colossal image of the Buddha in preaching pose flanked by bodhisattvas and celestial nymphs hovering above.
CAVES 9-10
Caves 9 and 10 are the two chaitya halls from the first period of construction, though both were also undergoing an uncompleted reworking at the end of the second period. Cave 10 was perhaps originally of the 1st century BCE, and cave 9 about a hundred years later. The small "shrinelets" called caves 9A to 9D and 10A also date from the second period, and were commissioned by individuals.
The paintings in cave 10 include some surviving from the early period, many from an incomplete programme of modernization in the second period, and a very large number of smaller late intrusive images, nearly all Buddhas and many with donor inscriptions from individuals. These mostly avoided over-painting the "official" programme and after the best positions were used up are tucked away in less prominent positions not yet painted; the total of these (including those now lost) was probably over 300, and the hands of many different artists are visible.
OTHER CAVES
Cave 3 is merely a start of an excavation; according to Spink it was begun right at the end of the final period of work and soon abandoned. Caves 5 and 6 are viharas, the latter on two floors, that were late works of which only the lower floor of cave 6 was ever finished. The upper floor of cave 6 has many private votive sculptures, and a shrine Buddha, but is otherwise unfinished. Cave 7 has a grand facade with two porticos but, perhaps because of faults in the rock, which posed problems in many caves, was never taken very deep into the cliff, and consists only of the two porticos and a shrine room with antechamber, with no central hall. Some cells were fitted in.
Cave 8 was long thought to date to the first period of construction, but Spink sees it as perhaps the earliest cave from the second period, its shrine an "afterthought". The statue may have been loose rather than carved from the living rock, as it has now vanished. The cave was painted, but only traces remain.
SPINK´S DETAILED CHRONOLOGY
Walter M. Spink has over recent decades developed a very precise and circumstantial chronology for the second period of work on the site, which unlike earlier scholars, he places entirely in the 5th century. This is based on evidence such as the inscriptions and artistic style, combined with the many uncompleted elements of the caves. He believes the earlier group of caves, which like other scholars he dates only approximately, to the period "between 100 BCE – 100 CE", were at some later point completely abandoned and remained so "for over three centuries", as the local population had turned mainly Hindu. This changed with the accession of the Emperor Harishena of the Vakataka Dynasty, who reigned from 460 to his death in 477. Harisena extended the Central Indian Vakataka Empire to include a stretch of the east coast of India; the Gupta Empire ruled northern India at the same period, and the Pallava dynasty much of the south.
According to Spink, Harisena encouraged a group of associates, including his prime minister Varahadeva and Upendragupta, the sub-king in whose territory Ajanta was, to dig out new caves, which were individually commissioned, some containing inscriptions recording the donation. This activity began in 462 but was mostly suspended in 468 because of threats from the neighbouring Asmaka kings. Work continued on only caves 1, Harisena's own commission, and 17–20, commissioned by Upendragupta. In 472 the situation was such that work was suspended completely, in a period that Spink calls "the Hiatus", which lasted until about 475, by which time the Asmakas had replaced Upendragupta as the local rulers.
Work was then resumed, but again disrupted by Harisena's death in 477, soon after which major excavation ceased, except at cave 26, which the Asmakas were sponsoring themselves. The Asmakas launched a revolt against Harisena's son, which brought about the end of the Vakataka Dynasty. In the years 478–480 major excavation by important patrons was replaced by a rash of "intrusions" – statues added to existing caves, and small shrines dotted about where there was space between them. These were commissioned by less powerful individuals, some monks, who had not previously been able to make additions to the large excavations of the rulers and courtiers. They were added to the facades, the return sides of the entrances, and to walls inside the caves. According to Spink, "After 480, not a single image was ever made again at the site", and as Hinduism again dominated the region, the site was again abandoned, this time for over a millennium.
Spink does not use "circa" in his dates, but says that "one should allow a margin of error of one year or perhaps even two in all cases".
IMPACT ON MODERN INDIAN PAINTINGS
The Ajanta paintings, or more likely the general style they come from, influenced painting in Tibet and Sri Lanka.
The rediscovery of ancient Indian paintings at Ajanta provided Indian artists examples from ancient India to follow. Nandlal Bose experimented with techniques to follow the ancient style which allowed him to develop his unique style. Abanindranath Tagore also used the Ajanta paintings for inspiration.
WIKIPEDIA
I've had 3 printing at once, but never all four. Yet.
From left to right:
- RepRap Kossel
- RepRap Prusa i3
- Ultimaker 2
- MakerBot Replicator 1 XL
After successfully replicating a LUT that I liked from another image processing program, I realized it might work well on some photos I took last May around the Perigord Noir region of France.
From a message shared with a friend here on Flickr -
RawTherapee is free - rawtherapee.com/
You'll need to add Pat David's HaldCLUT film emulation collection - rawpedia.rawtherapee.com/Film_Simulation
Relatedly, if you already use the Gimp (see: www.gimp.org/ ) their most recent versions include 32bit floating-point color-space precision settings. I've been waiting 18 years for this (which is why I went with RawTherapee some years back as it was built to have a large color space to work in).
To get film emulation and some other interesting LUTs into the Gimp, check out G'Mic - patdavid.net/2013/08/film-emulation-presets-in-gmic-gimp/
G'Mic site - gmic.eu/
I want to replicate a memory, but all I see is a blur. I get on a bus… the next thing I remember is the North Beach region… next memory is City Lights Bookstore, then a few books. And then I close my eyes, and it’s no longer 2001, and I’m not almost 18… I’m almost 40.
13th birthday cake for a guy who LOVES iced animal cookies. He also plays cricket. Caricature of him with bat and teeny tiny cookies sitting ona huge box of animal cookies (banana cake covered in buttercream with images).
Name and age made in fondnat to replicate cookies. Fondant "cookies" pouring from the box.
Bet he would like a box this big......
This pipe’s design is replicated on both halves of the bowl and features a Maid of Erin harp beneath a Royal Crown along with sprays of shamrock. Both nationalist emblems of harp and shamrock were usually associated together within Ireland from the 18th to the early 20th centuries. The Maid of Erin on this pipe is not winged and shown subordinated to the Crown.
The use of shamrock in Ireland associated with St. Patrick (Ireland’s patron saint) originated in the 17th century and by the end of the 18th century it began to be adopted as a nationalist emblem. The use of the shamrock as a national emblem to show one’s patriotism became widely popular in the latter half of the 19th century along with the Maid of Erin harp.
The Maid of Erin harp is depicted with an allegorical female figure of Erin affixed to the outer body of the harp. The Maid of Erin is usually depicted as winged but sometimes without the wings. The earliest appearance of the Maid of Erin harp was on the Royal Standard of King James I of England (c.1603) and its first appearance on the Irish coinage was on the St. Patrick’s halfpenny (c.1674). Thereafter, the Maid of Erin was commonly used as an emblem of Ireland into the 20th century.
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References:
niarchive.org/CulturalFusions/portals/a1b3a25b-b7fe-4bef-...(WEB).pdf (Emblems of Ireland – covers both the shamrock and the Maid of Erin harp).
www.coinweek.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/st_pat_thumb.jpg (Image of a St. Patrick’s halfpenny (1670’s) which was the first Irish coin to depict the Maid of Erin harp).
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shamrock (The shamrock as an Irish emblem).
Coins & Tokens of Ireland by Seaby’s Numismatic Publishing Ltd, 1970.
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Height: 2 1/8” (54mm)
Widest width: 1 1/8” (28mm)
Length: 1 7/8” including stem (47mm)
Inside diameter: ¾” (19mm)
Find location: Mullingar, County Westmeath.
A comparison of four different common 3D-print layer heights.
• 0.34 mm/layer - Low (340 microns)
• 0.27 mm/layer - Medium (270 microns)
• 0.1 mm/layer - High (100 microns)
• 0.05 mm/layer - Super fine (50 microns)
These models where 3D printed with blue 1.75 mm PLA plastic filament on a MakerBot Replicator 2 3D printer.
The sample 3D model for this print is MorenaP's popular tree frog: www.thingiverse.com/derivative:34468
3D-printer: makerbot.creativetools.se
Laser-cut plate: www.thingiverse.com/thing:69351
3D printer filament spool holder for MakerBot Replicator
Made on a makerbot.creativetools.se
Download the file for free from: www.thingiverse.com/thing:72746
The entire roof, ceiling and plasterwork were replicated in their entirety to replace that lost in the fire. The new roof is an all-timber construction based on traditional mortise and tenon joints using queen post-trusses for its basic structure and finished with Blue-Bangor slates each measuring 600mm x 900mm. Below that, a barrel vault ceiling was also installed, constructed of timber and overlaid with riven chestnut lathes to which the base plaster was applied. Plastering was carried out by George O’Malley Plastering Ltd and the work supervised by master-plasterer George O’Malley, who has many years expertise in restoring and creating decorative plasterwork. Traditional methods using lime plaster mixed with goat-hair/horsehair to reproduce as far as possible the original designs as well as new moulds. There were also the 28 plaster angels originally produced by local plasterer Terence Farrell (1787-1876) for the sum of £150. All were damaged in the fire and 26 angels were recoverable which were restored by George O’Malley, the remaining two were reproduced. These were hung back in their original positions above the free-standing limestone columns.
This photo shows the northern part of the nave and above are semicircular Diocletian windows containing leaded stained glass by James Scanlon. Those opposite on the southern side have art-glass windows by Kim en Joong, a Dominican priest based in Paris.
St Mel’s of Longford town is the cathedral church for the diocese of Ardagh and Clonmacnoise. Ambitious plans for a fine church building in Longford began to take form after the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829 and became a reality when sufficient funds had been collected. Construction began in 1840 with the laying of the foundation stone which was taken from the original cathedral of St. Mel at Ardagh, only a few miles from Longford. The main body of the new cathedral was completed in 1856 to a neo-classical design by the architect Joseph Benjamin Keane, work having been delayed during the period of the Great Famine (1846 and recommenced 1853). After Joseph’s death in 1849, work was continued after by his assistant John Bourke (d.1871) who was also responsible for the belfry tower completed in 1860, but with major alterations to its original design. The neo-classical portico was designed by George Coppinger Ashlin (1837-1921) and completed in 1889 with its pediment and sculpted tympanum depicting the enthronement of St. Mel as Bishop of Ardagh along with three statues above the pediment. By this time, the cathedral building has taken on its definitive form with no further major alterations until its refurbishment after the devastating fire of 2009.
On 25th December 2009, the entire building was gutted by a fire which accidently started within the boiler chimney flue at the rear and quickly spread. The alarm was raised just after 5am but fire-fighting attempts were hampered by frozen pipes as the country was in the grip of one of its worst and prolonged periods of freezing temperatures for decades. By daylight, the entire building had been reduced to a burnt-out shell with the loss of all its furnishing, fittings and diocesan museum. The museum contained many priceless artefacts that included the Crozier of Saint Mel and the book-shrine of St. Caillin (1536), the latter damaged beyond restoration but it may be possible to conserve some of the remnants. The 28 supporting columns were also damaged beyond repair and had to replaced anew. Very little was recoverable that survived the worst of the 1,000 deg.C fire and even these suffered some degree of fire damage such as The Bell of Fenagh which is undergoing conservation treatment at the National Museum of Ireland and the original baptismal font with its brass fittings and surrounding mosaic floor. But the most puzzling of all and described by many as nothing short of a miracle was the survival of the Holy Family painting in the northern transept and the undamaged Eucharistic Host still inside the fire damaged tabernacle. The Holy Family oil painting on a cotton-based canvas should have readily gone up in flames due to its highly combustible materials but somehow survived relatively unscathed despite the intense fire around it. This painting was of Italian origins by an unknown artist and is now back on display requiring little more than a cleaning!
After five years of work by many expert disciplines using traditional methods, the cathedral building has been totally refurbished and which included quarried blue-limestone for 28 columns with hand-carved capitals that support the roof. Both Harry Clarke Studio windows were salvaged from the transepts and restored to their former glory by Abbey Stained Glass Ltd of Dublin, a company with much experience in the restoration of stained glass windows. Other replacements such as the wooden pews, alter, stained glass, Stations of the Cross tablets, pipe-organ, fixtures and fitting were all made in a modern style to the best materials and craftsmanship available. It is also planned to open a diocesan museum in the cathedral’s new crypts. The total cost of refurbishment and fitting out came to around €30 million, funded mostly from the insurance cover and after five years of hard work the cathedral was reopened for services at Christmas 2014.
Photos taken Thursday 22nd January 2015.
References:
www.facebook.com/StMelsRestoration (St Mel’s Cathedral restoration – Facebook page).
www.rte.ie/news/special-reports/2014/1215/667007-longford... (RTE News article about TV program The Longford Phoenix).
www.longfordtourism.ie/event/st-mels-cathedral-rise-from-...
irishcatholic.ie/sites/default/files/styles/large/public/... (Sculptor Ken Thompson working on one of his Stations of the Cross panels).
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Mel%27s_cathedral,_Longford
l7.alamy.com/zooms/5e9904767cdb4317b39e15ee189488c3/shrin... (Image of St. Caillin book shrine created in 1536 before it was damaged beyond repair in the 2009 fire at St. Mel’s cathedral).
www.alamy.com/stock-photo-st-mels-crozier-longford-cathed... (Image of the 10th century St. Mel’s Crozier and sadly, completely destroyed in the cathedral fire of 2009).
www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVb7TQy4QAM (Engineers Ireland presentation titled Recreating the Historical Roof of St. Mel's Cathedral).
Concrete pillboxes built to replicate Nazi bunkers rest on an old cattle farm now an area of critical environmental concern managed by the BLM in southwest Oregon, Sept. 26, 2018. BLM photo: Matt Christenson
A quiet oak savanna in southwest Oregon has a World War II story to tell.
It was the summer of 1942 when thousands of young American troops started arriving in Oregon to prepare for battle.
Only months prior, immediately after the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor and America’s entry into WWII, the U.S. Army broke ground on Camp White, a massively ambitious training ground for troops north of Medford.
The national war effort was ramping up, and from the rationing at home to the drill sergeants yelling at new draftees, the task at hand was unified: Get America prepared for war as fast as possible.
At Camp White, in the heart of the Rogue River Valley, it got loud very quick.
Construction crews worked 24 hours a day until the base, consisting of 1,300 structures, was complete. Barracks, mess halls, a railroad, full electrical grid and sewer system were all built in six months.
And then the troops arrived.
The newly reinstated 91st Division went on 91-mile-long hikes.
They fired bazookas, mortars and tanks.
And they attacked concrete pillboxes built to replicate Nazi bunkers.
Despite creating what was then Oregon’s second most populous city at 40,000 people, there are now only a few lasting structures proving Camp White ever existed. Sadly, there are even fewer first-hand memories.
The pillboxes are still standing, though. They simultaneously represent a mostly forgotten military legacy and since 2013, an opportunity for historic preservation.
After decades of private cattle farming, Camp White’s pillboxes now rest on public land.
Read the full story about the Camp White pillboxes that rest on the northeast side of Upper Table Rock, an area of critical environmental concern for the BLM: www.facebook.com/notes/blm-oregon-washington/the-wwii-leg...
#3DBenchy printed on a MakerBot Replicator Desktop 5th Generation 3D printer.
The 3D-model: 3dbenchy.com/download
The 3D-printer: www.creativetools.se/index.php?route=product/search&f...
#3DBenchy printed on a MakerBot Replicator Desktop 5th Generation 3D printer.
The 3D-model: 3dbenchy.com/download
The 3D-printer: www.creativetools.se/index.php?route=product/search&f...
Concrete pillboxes built to replicate Nazi bunkers rest on an old cattle farm now an area of critical environmental concern managed by the BLM in southwest Oregon, Sept. 25, 2018. BLM photo: Matt Christenson
A quiet oak savanna in southwest Oregon has a World War II story to tell.
It was the summer of 1942 when thousands of young American troops started arriving in Oregon to prepare for battle.
Only months prior, immediately after the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor and America’s entry into WWII, the U.S. Army broke ground on Camp White, a massively ambitious training ground for troops north of Medford.
The national war effort was ramping up, and from the rationing at home to the drill sergeants yelling at new draftees, the task at hand was unified: Get America prepared for war as fast as possible.
At Camp White, in the heart of the Rogue River Valley, it got loud very quick.
Construction crews worked 24 hours a day until the base, consisting of 1,300 structures, was complete. Barracks, mess halls, a railroad, full electrical grid and sewer system were all built in six months.
And then the troops arrived.
The newly reinstated 91st Division went on 91-mile-long hikes.
They fired bazookas, mortars and tanks.
And they attacked concrete pillboxes built to replicate Nazi bunkers.
Despite creating what was then Oregon’s second most populous city at 40,000 people, there are now only a few lasting structures proving Camp White ever existed. Sadly, there are even fewer first-hand memories.
The pillboxes are still standing, though. They simultaneously represent a mostly forgotten military legacy and since 2013, an opportunity for historic preservation.
After decades of private cattle farming, Camp White’s pillboxes now rest on public land.
Read the full story about the Camp White pillboxes that rest on the northeast side of Upper Table Rock, an area of critical environmental concern for the BLM: www.facebook.com/notes/blm-oregon-washington/the-wwii-leg...
LUGNuts' founder Lino Martins has graciously given me permission to replicate his series of automotive illustrations based on various mixed alcoholic drinks.
The next in this series is a Lego -model replication of Moscow Mule' - Zil-130 Truck.
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In Lino's own words:
"I’m aware that designing vehicles based on mixed drinks is a fairly irresponsible thing to be doing. I have friends who are in recovery or simply choose not to drink and for them I have something cool in mind that will finish out this series. My friend Buell Richardson had a couple of suggestions that I felt rather uneasy about drawing in these rather sensitive times so instead I have rendered the Moscow Mule in hopes that he can still appreciate my design choices in doing so. I went with a custom Soviet ZIL-130 pickup truck in olive green. The Moscow Mule drink itself is not that visually interesting but it is usually served in a copper mug. This got me thinking to adorn the truck with hammered copper gas tanks, rims and other accessories. Buell enjoys painting gaming miniatures and does it quite well so I incorporated a base for the truck that makes it look like it could be one of his painted miniatures. The background is a faded sunburst in colors reminiscent of old Soviet propaganda art. I couldn’t resist finishing off the piece with a red star and hammer and sickle design on the side of the truck. The end result is something I like quite a bit and I hope that you all do too. Stay tuned as I draw more of your suggestions and remember always drink responsibly and never drink and drive."
3D model made by Swedish 3D artist Måns Larsson
- 3D-modell sliced with Skeinforge 50
- Printed with ReplicatorG on a standard MakerBot Replicator FDM 3D-printer
The size of the Makerbot Replicator prints is a game changer - this baby is 15x15x10 cm. And no, the Ritz cracker wasn't 3D printed.
Here's the kid brother: Horn0016
Removing 3D-prints from a 3D printer's build plate can be a bit tricky - specially if the bottom surface area is large. In this video we show a very easy way to remove such 3D prints from the build plate without damaging the model or the build plate.
This example shows a 3D printed model of a table stand for the Sony Xperia Z1 mobile phone. The design was made by Thingiverse user magnum. (see link below).
The 3D print was made with MakerBot translucent blue PLA plastic on a Replicator 2 3D-printer.
We chose to 3D print directly on top of the acrylic detachable build plate, instead of covering it with blue painter's tape. The PLA plastic stick well to the build plate which make the final resulting print look really flat and nice.
To remove the 3D print use a strait-bladed painter's palette knife. The blade should be thin (aprox. 0.4 mm), be flexible and have a sharp edge on its tip. (BEE CAREFUL NOT TO HURT YOURSELF). Always aim the tip of the knife away from your fingers and body.
Start by placing the tip of the blade just where the 3D printed model meets the build plate. Hold it at slight downwards angle.
Use a rubber hammer or any firm solid object and hit the palette knife so that the tip wedges itself between the model and the build plate. Then orient the palette blade down so that it becomes horizontal with the build plate.
Continue to hit the knife until you enter a significant part of the models bottom surface. Then rotate and turn the blade so that it wedges itself deeper and sideways under the model.
You will clearly hear a cracking sound while the model releases from the acrylic surface. After you reach a certain threshold the model will release completely from the build plate.
One should never need to hit the knife too hard. If the model is very big, take things slowly and insert the knife from different sides of the model.
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The 3D printer: bit.ly/166tbW1
The 3D model: www.thingiverse.com/thing:231674
The MakerBot Digitizer 3D-scanned Laser Cat model was used in this test of different layer thicknesses. The cat was scaled down to 50 mm in height and then 3D printed at the following layer heights:
- 0.40 mm (400 microns)
- 0.30 mm (300 microns)
- 0.20 mm (200 microns)
- 0.10 mm (100 microns) - Average width of a strand of human hair
- 0.05 mm (50 microns)
- 0.02 mm (20 microns)
All six cats where 3D printed on a MakerBot Replicator 2 with TRUE BLUE PLA plastic at 230 degrees C.
All layers where 3D printed with MakerWare's standard values as follows:
(400 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(300 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(200 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(100 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 90 mm/s
(50 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 60 mm/s
(20 microns) - 15% infill - perimeters 2 - speed 40 mm/s
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The 3D scanner: bit.ly/1a7y8hG
The 3D printer: makerbot.creativetools.se
The 3D model: www.thingiverse.com/thing:146265