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The seemingly massive island in the background is Besboro Island covered with what I think is called a lenticular cloud. It makes the island look much larger. Unalakleet is a busy fishing port in the summer, and the racks in the foreground are used to dry nets and fish.
Detail of the south window under the tower (and over/around the main entrance) by Powells, 1921. Perhaps my favourite window here. It was sadly targeted on several occasions in the 1990s by mindless stone-throwing idiots and thus certain sections needed to be repaired a few times (on one occasion by yours truly) but is happily better protected now.
St Mary's is the parish church of the town of Kidderminster and a grand affair it is too, still mostly an early 16th century building of impressive proportions, its extraordinary length in particular. The tower is a major landmark on the northern edge of the town centre, though sadly the construction of the modern ring-road effectively cuts the church off completely from the rest of the town and it can only be reached via a rather uninviting subway beneath the dual-carriageway, thus it doesn't get the footfall it deserves.
The church is usually approached from the south and it is this aspect that makes the biggest impression, most noticeably for its handsome south-west tower and the richly glazed clerestories of the nave (which appears to be composed more of glass than wall), all fine examples of the late medieval Perpendicular style. The length of the building is remarkable as beyond the nave is not only a decent sized chancel but a further chapel to the east as well (an early 16th century chantry chapel, formerly detached but now more integrated and in use as a parish room). There has however been much restoration owing to the fragility of the grey and red sandstones used in the construction, and thus much of the external stonework was renewed in the Victorian period (when the south chapel and vestries connecting to the chantry chapel were added). On the north side of the chancel is a handsome memorial chapel added in the early decades of the 20th century.
Entry is via the porch in the base of the tower at the south-west corner, where the visitor is greeted by a vast interior space whose lighting is somewhat subdued (especially the chancel). the nave is a classic example of the Perpendicular style and of considerable width, culminating above in the bright clerestories and a flat wooden ceiling. There is much of interest to discover here, particularly the monuments which date from the 15th-17th centuries and include several fine tombs, the earliest being a graceful canopied tomb to a noblewoman in the south aisle and a large brass on the north side. The chancel has three more large tombs with recumbent effiges to members of the Cokesey and Blount families, the latter being of post-Reformation date.
Every window of the church is filled with stained glass, mostly of the Victorian period but much of it rather good. The most handsome window is the early 20th century window by Powell's over the main entrance and there is more glass by the same studio in the nave aisles whilst the nave clerestorey has an attractive sequence of angels holding symbols of the Benedicite by Hardmans' installed at the very end of the 19th century. My first encounter with this church was in the late 1990s when working as part of the team that releaded the entire scheme of windows in the nave clerestorey, thus I got to know these angels very well. Sadly however the glass throughout this church suffers from a disfiguring layer of varnish or shellac (applied as 'blackout' at the beginning of World War II and a substance known as 'speltek' according to someone I spoke to at the church). This was smeared over most windows with a rag (the impressions of which were apparent when we worked on the clerestorey windows) and is not easily removed, but small areas where it has detached show how much brightness has been lost while the windows suffocate under this darkening layer. I hope some day the right solvent can be found to remove this stuff with minimal risk to the glass.
Kidderminster's grand parish church rewards a visit and deserves more visitors than it currently receives. It isn't always open but in recent years prior to the pandemic was generally open for a few hours on most days during the summer months (though best to check times before planning a trip). Don't be put off by the seemingly impenetrable barrier of the ringroad, St Mary's is worth seeking out and the nice people who steward their church would I'm sure like to be able to welcome more people to this fine building.
www.worcesteranddudleyhistoricchurches.org.uk/index.php?p...
Seemingly abandoned and vandalised, I'm staggered to find that this one has been retaxed since this photo was taken - now taxed until the end of October, although the MOT is due at the end of May.
Climbing the seemingly never-ending stairs of Fleshmarket Close I happened to glance upward and notice a ghost sign (one of many in Edinburgh) on the gable of one of the tenements advertising a former eatery/bar - now The Halfway House. Usually concentrating on the steps, I had never noticed this before.
Despite the seemingly endless stacks of books, the vendors know exactly where a copy of Stephen Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People is placed if you're looking for one.
Chowrasta Market, George Town, Penang.
PS: Believe it or not, I actually did capture a pile with the exact same book on top of it in another picture!
Leica M6 Millenium | Summicron 35mm f2 v4 | Kodak TMax 400
A seemingly local car to me, obviously been hiding away for some time, as it was out of tax in April '87.
Looked quite frilly, as you'd expect from a Datsun that's been off the road for 30 odd years, but it held up quite well.
Graham Greene - The 3rd Man
Bantam Books 797, 1950
Cover: movie tie-in photo - Valli and Joseph Cotten
One of my personal all-time favourite movies!
Thirty-six years ago today, on April 25th, 1976, filmmaker Carol Reed passed away. One of the greatest directors ever to come out of the U.K., Reed started out as an actor, but gained fame as a writer-director in the late 1930s and 1940s.
Reed's undisputed masterpiece is "The Third Man," a 1949 film noir based on a screenplay by the great British writer Graham Greene. The film involves a writer of Westerns, Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), who comes to post-war Vienna after being promised a job by his childhood friend Harry Lime. On arriving, he discovers that Lime had seemingly been killed shortly beforehand. However, he soon finds out, through investigating with Lime's girlfriend Anna (Alida Valli) that his old pal had been stealing and diluting penicillin from military hospitals, leading to the death of children, and that Lime (indelibly played by Orson Welles) is still alive.
The film is frequently named as among the greatest ever made: the British Film Institute called it the greatest ever film from the U.K. in 1999, and the AFI labelled it the 57th best American film the year before (it was co-produced by Britain's Alexander Korda and America's David O. Selznick, hence the dual parentage). It's such a key part of Austrian culture that there's an entire museum in Vienna dedicated solely to the film. And rightfully so: it's rich, funny, thrilling and impeccably made and acted, feeling as fresh today as it must have in 1949. To commemorate the anniversary of Reed's passing, you'll find below five things that you may not know about the director's greatest achievement.
1.Graham Greene originally gave it a happier ending, while Carol Reed was forced to change the film for U.S. audiences.
The film was always intended to be a screenplay first and foremost, but Greene (a novelist and former spy best known at the time for his 1938 novel "Brighton Rock," made into an acclaimed film in 1947 starring Richard Attenborough) wrote the story in prose as a novella first. There's a number of differences -- Holly Martins was called Rollo in the novella, both he and Harry were British rather than American, and the whole thing is narrated by Major Calloway, the part played by Trevor Howard in the film. But the biggest difference comes in the ending: Greene wanted a happy ending, with Holly (or Rollo) and Anna reunited, while Reed, and even producer David O. Selznick, a famous advocate of happy endings, believed that Anna should shun him. That being said, Reed didn't get his own way on everything. For the U.S. release, Selznick removed the opening narration (which is performed by the director himself), and cut eleven minutes of scenes, mostly to make Holly more heroic, and less of an alcoholic. Reed's cut has subsequently been restored for home video releases.
2. We might have seen a version of the film starring Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant.
It's hard to imagine a version of the film without Orson Welles in what's arguably his most iconic role (or indeed, without Joseph Cotten as the lead), but as ever, that wasn't necessarily the original plan. Reed's original choice for Holly Martins was James Stewart, but producer David O. Selznick had Joseph Cotten under contract, and insisted on using him. Ironically, Selznick objected to Reed's choice of Cotten's long-time collaborator Orson Welles to play Harry Lime, a character who Greene had based on legendary spy Kim Philby, who'd been his superior in the British Special Intelligence Service during the war, and who, in 1963, would turn out to be a long-time Soviet agent. Selznick called Welles "box office poison" for the part, and pursued Cary Grant instead. Reed got his way, but Grant would become a frequent visitor to the set -- the actor was filming "I Was A Male War Bride" on the next-door stage at Shepperton.
3. Anton Karas, composer of the famous theme & score, was an unknown performer in a Vienna wine bar when Reed found him.
Even those who've never seen the film will likely have heard its famous theme, part of the seminal score by Austrian musician Anton Karas, who used only a zither to perform it. Karas had been a complete unknown beforehand; he performed in a Heuringer (an Austrian wine-tavern), and was heard by Reed at a production party. Reed immediately asked him to his hotel room to record demos, and when shooting wrapped, invited him to London to write and record the score. On the film's release, "The Harry Lime Theme" became an enormous hit with the record selling an unprecedented 500,000 copies by the end of 1949, and on release in the U.S. the following year, it topped the Billboard chart for eleven weeks. Even today, it crops up in unlikely places: it can be heard in a bar in Vin Diesel actioner "xXx," and The Lonely Island sampled aspects of the score for one of their earliest tracks, "Stork Patrol" (see below).
4. The shoot was a rocky one: Welles went A.W.O.L before shooting, and Reed became dependent on speed to keep to his schedule.
Welles was a man not short on ego, and initially proved to be something of a nightmare on the shoot, travelling in Europe as the film was meant to shoot, and arriving two weeks late. Even then, he refused to shoot the sewer scenes on location, forcing Reed to use body doubles (including assistant director Guy Hamilton, who'd later make his name helming Bond movies like "Goldfinger") and to rebuild the sewer as a set in Shepperton, back in the U.K.. Welles calmed down once the shoot was underway, and enjoyed playing Lime, and while rumors that he ghost-directed persisted, they are patently false, though he did contribute the famous "cuckoo clock" speech. But Welles wasn't the only headache that the director had to contend with. Reed was shooting three units simultaneously to keep on schedule, and became hooked on Dexedrine (or speed) to help him pull his 20-hour days, which perhaps helps to explain the brilliantly skewed visual style of the film. That being said, not everyone was enamored of the dutch angles. Reed's friend, director William Wyler, sent him a spirit level, with the droll note attached "Carol, next time you make a picture, just put this on top of the camera, will you?"
5. Welles would play Harry Lime again in a prequel radio series, which in turn would inspire his own film "Mr. Arkadin."
The film was a bona-fide hit (the biggest of 1949 in the U.K.), and unsurprisingly, it would go on to other mediums. As was often the practice at the time, a radio adaptation aired soon after, with Cotten (but not Welles) reprising his role, while in 1959, a British TV series aired also called the "The Third Man," starring Michael Rennie ("The Day The Earth Stood Still") as a watered-down version of Lime, now a Robin Hood-like art dealer. But perhaps the most significant adaptation was the radio series "The Adventures of Harry Lime" -- "The Lives of Harry Lime" in the U.S. -- which produced 55 episodes in 1951 and 1952. It showcased Lime's adventures before Vienna, and featured Welles returning to the role he made famous. The polymath even wrote a number of episodes, one of which, "Man Of Mystery," served as the source material for his own film "Mr. Arkadin," which Welles called his "biggest disaster" after it was re-edited by the producers. The original radio version, along with a number of others, is included on the Criterion Collection versions of "The Third Man" and "Mr. Arkadin" (which is presented in three different cuts).
The seemingly mundane gesture of opening the tap to satisfy basic needs, such as drinking and hygiene, is almost never simple in Ethiopia's more remote and drought-affected areas.
© European Union/ECHO/Anouk Delafortrie
Seemingly out of nowhere, Bagnalls Coaches of Swadlincote have started undertaking Rail Replacement work for CrossCountry. Amongst their coaches are at least 3 former First Group Volvo B7TLs - this is former Bristol 32021. Seen here at Coleshill Parkway arriving for standby duties.
Seemingly the booked traction for the Westbury-Bescot tripper, 59003 is seen approaching Ryecroft Junction with 0M50 0713 Westbury Down T.C. to Bescot Up Engineers Sdgs
A derelict and seemingly abandoned farm building in the forgotten wilds of West Sussex. A sinister place where the birds are silent... and where the lost become the missing. This is real Texas Chainsaw Massacre country (but not in Texas... obviously).
Helen, this is my submission to the "Abandoned, Derelict, Lost and Forgotten" photo challenge.
Well. Here is what I have been working on for a seemingly two week stretch of inactivity on my photo stream in Flickr. I have photographed my redesigned MOC of a P-51 Mustang (in light bluish-gray), my MOC of a Dodge WC Utility truck from World War II, and my A-26 Invader plane (primarily in dark green). I'll start with the simplest one: the Dodge WC. I just constructed a representation of the average WC out there pertaining to World War II based off some images I found. It features Brickmania printed star tiles, as well as a simulated tarp able to house crates. The close second to the most complex would have to be the Mustang. This one was a LOT of failed experimentations, but I am proud of the final product. It features dihedral, an angling of the wings sideways as well as a slight backwards slant via balljoint techniques, and working landing gear on all three wheels. I was very proud how I was able to fit the minifigure in there too (:. Lastly, the Invader, the largest MOC here, was probably the most complex almost entirely due to its engines (which were some of the most convoluted sections I have ever created on a LEGO plane), the fully functioning landing gear, and the demand for a light bluish-gray blend at its belly to the fuselage color of dark green. Man, this was a lot of work done over some two weeks. But I hope you like it!
Also... check out Cooper Shaffner's stream on Flickr, as he has started a discord inclusive to all LEGO military builders. He is tagged in this photo, and his advertisement is on his page posted just recently.
Okay, that's all for now. Cheers (;.
Dunnottar Castle (Scottish Gaelic: Dùn Fhoithear, "fort on the shelving slope") is a ruined medieval fortress located upon a rocky headland on the northeastern coast of Scotland, about 3 kilometres (1.9 mi) south of Stonehaven. The surviving buildings are largely of the 15th and 16th centuries, but the site is believed to have been fortified in the Early Middle Ages. Dunnottar has played a prominent role in the history of Scotland through to the 18th-century Jacobite risings because of its strategic location and defensive strength. Dunnottar is best known as the place where the Honours of Scotland, the Scottish crown jewels, were hidden from Oliver Cromwell's invading army in the 17th century. The property of the Keiths from the 14th century, and the seat of the Earl Marischal, Dunnottar declined after the last Earl forfeited his titles by taking part in the Jacobite rebellion of 1715. The castle was restored in the 20th century and is now open to the public.
The ruins of the castle are spread over 1.4 hectares (3.5 acres), surrounded by steep cliffs that drop to the North Sea, 50 metres (160 ft) below. A narrow strip of land joins the headland to the mainland, along which a steep path leads up to the gatehouse. The various buildings within the castle include the 14th-century tower house as well as the 16th-century palace. Dunnottar Castle is a scheduled monument, and twelve structures on the site were listed buildings.
Seemingly Jet throughout Streetview here but I suspect it was Harvest branded for some time in between two Jet eras. Partly because it's an Ascona site and several others have gone through this branding pattern, and also there's an image of it as Harvest on Google. Shame no-one caught that era on here.
www.google.co.uk/maps/@51.7444574,-0.7344414,3a,75y,64.94...
A seemingly out of place cantilever signal bridge complete with inoperative signals, guards the former Pere Marquette carferry apron in Port Huron, MI. Nearby are the former Pere Marquette depot and P-M RR bridge over the Black River. In looking at the area, it was evident that the P-M/C&O Port Huron yard was once located here. Need Mr. Peabody's way-back machine you know.
Seemingly the capital's first monument to a same-sex couple: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butt%E2%80%93Millet_Memorial_Fountain
A seemingly endless number of grapevine rows basking in the warm California sun are identified by red plastic tags in the Artesa Winery in the Napa Valley outside the town of Napa. Owned by the Raventos family of Spain, the vineyard is called the Jewel of Carneros.
The renowned Napa Valley of California is really very beautiful with its grapevine covered slopes. While there were many vineyards in the area, we punched the location of one into our GPS and drove to the entranceway to the Aresa Vineyard and Winery on our way back from Napa. In the far distance, sounds of people having fun drifted to us from the far hill where the winery was located. While I took many shots of carefully laid out trellises covering the hills, I was able to actually walk amongst the grape vines to take some of these close-up shots… and learned that the post at the head of each row has a tag to identify it. These grapes were not yet ripe and I understand that they will be harvested between September and November.
(IMG_5145)
© Stephen L. Frazier - All material in my photo stream may NOT be reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted or uploaded in any way without my permission. My photos are Copyrighted "Stephen L. Frazier" and All Rights Reserved.
Harold Harvey’s seemingly innocent depiction of girls selling oranges to a young fisherman carries a hidden message that reveals important social concerns in Edwardian Britain. He first tackled the subject in 1905 in The Orange Seller (Royal Cornwall Museum, Truro), a picture of a girl seated in a dark interior with a basket of oranges. This visual idea was taken out into the open air and in the present example, placed in the busy ambience of Newlyn Harbour. Here, his viewpoint took in the waterfront, a section of the North Pier and the gentle slope of Paul Hill running down to Wherry Town, which is off to the right. Along with neighbouring Mousehole, this was a favourite setting between 1905 and 1908. However the encounter he depicts contains a more complex message. Oranges remained an exotic fruit in rural areas in the Edwardian period
[Oil on canvas, 30.5 x 40.6 cm]
gandalfsgallery.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/harold-harvey-oran...
A seemingly abandoned building in Logan, Iowa with the inscription "Harrison County Agricultural Building" above the door.
Seemingly detached from its body, the head and neck of this partially submerged Double-crested Cormorant has a snake-like profile. The ripples of the water and the reflection of the clouds, aquatic plants, and cormorant each contribute to this image’s interesting texture.
Location: Green Cay Nature Center and Wetlands, Florida, United States of America
Seemingly as a photographer, I come across many strangers with cameras; I think that it's an unspoken language that we are sometimes interested in the pictures another is taking. With that being said, while I was out shooting pictures on a chilly February eve I came across this old man standing in the middle of the 100 Block on State Street. I walked up cautiously, as it was late I didn't want to startle him: As I admired his wide angle lens on the camera, I caught a glimpse as he pulled his eye from the viewfinder and his LCD was exposed. Catching the low-light street, with the capitol and light trails included; it was a great opportunity to be had. Lucky for the both of us traffic was at a minimum so we began to chat, and I learned my strangers name was Gerald.
Gerald had gotten out of the Overture Center not long ago, there was a speaker who just happened to be a photojournalist for National Geographic. I was disappointed only for a moment, but was happy to find that Gerald too was an accomplished photographer. Having his works published in the likes of National Geographic and Audubon among the better known works. While it was chilly and I didn't want to keep him from capturing pictures, I explained the (608)strangers project. Easily agreeing, we needed only four photographs to get the exposure right. We moved out of the way of a passing bus and exchanged business cards, he continued forth with his night; but I was far too cold to continue.
A successful encounter for the 100 strangers group, which it seems I have been quiet from for a while. Lacking an inspiration to write up my encounters, I hope that posting this photo will get me back on the right path.
169/100
Seemingly having benefitted from a recent repaint, this GE makes for a fine roster shot. The same could not be said however for the trailing unit!
Seemingly rising up through the trees is the steeple for the Westminster UPC in Upper St. Clair PA. Looks can be deceiving. It appears this church sits in a rural setting, but actually this is a relatively populated suburban area. Taken from the Gilfillan farm trail.
I first became aware -- well, REALLY aware, I should say -- of St. Patrick's Catholic Church a few years ago when my friend, David, and I, for seemingly the millionth time, found ourselves discussing local mid-century architecture. (If you're thinking that we're a couple of geeks to waste our time on such boring topics, I have nothing whatsoever to say in our defense -- dorks, I guess we are).
Since he's an architect with all kinds of formal training and knowledge, I was curious to find out David's favorite local building. When I asked, without a second's hesitation, he decisively blurted, "St. Patrick's, no question."
"What, you mean that windowless concrete slab against the sky on Portland and 23rd?" I replied. Probably like you, I had driven by the monolithic facade tons of times and never gave St. Patrick's a second thought.
Really, I thought, that's the best you can do? Of all of the great buildings in the city, you named THAT one?
With a superior sniff, I mentally derided David for his choice. I mean, there were so many BETTER buildings he could have picked -- The Gold Dome, St. Luke's, even the old State Capitol (now Arvest) Bank that has been so lamely altered in recent years. He could have mentioned my personal favorite (for obvious reasons -- my grandfather designed it), the First Christian Church, or he could have picked one of Goff's amazing homes in the area. He could have gone with something older like the Deco delight that is the First National Bank building or something newer like the sexy Chesapeake Boathouse ... but he went with St. Patrick's?!
David gave my incredulous stare a knowing, confident nod that told me I was obviously and completely clueless.
"Just go check it out," was all he said in an almost-whisper before he got up to get another beer, effectively ending the conversation.
The idea for Oklahoma City's best kept architectural secret was born when the congregation of mostly blue collar families received an enterprising new priest, Monsignor Don J. Kanaly. Before arriving in Oklahoma, Kanaly had studied and travelled throughout Europe and become intrigued with the Medieval tradition of common villagers coming together to construct the great Gothic cathedrals that still dot the landscape centuries later.
The idea of doing the same thing in America fermented in Kanaly's mind for years and finally found fruition when he arrived on the flat, dry plains of Oklahoma and joined the parish that had a school and auditorium but no real sanctuary. If such architectural miracles could be performed in Europe before the Industrial Revolution, surely the same feat could be accomplished here and now, he must have reasoned.
Kanaly decided to conduct a test project to see if his instincts were correct. He and the parish would build a rock wall along Portland to insulate the school from the busy road just a few feet away. If they could build a wall, they could certainly build a church.
So, work began.
The parishioners spent the sweltering summer of 1959 constructing a six-foot high, 50-foot-long stone wall, and with each heavy rock they placed, their confidence in their abilities grew. By the end of the summer, the wall was complete, and since the wall continues to stand strong over 50 years later, I guess you could say the experiment was a grand success.
With work completed on the wall, it was now time to find an architect to design a church that the congregation could work as a community to build. Kanaly and the congregation chose Tulsa architect Robert L. Jones, an Oklahoma native who studied under the great Mies van Der Rohe at the Illinois Institute of Technology and attended the Technical University in Karlsruhe, Germany, on a Fulbright Grant before returning to the Sooner State and setting up shop with brothers David and Lee Murray to form one of the state's great firms, Murray-Jones-Murray.
During the diagnostic phase of the design process, Jones met with the priests and parishioners to determine the needs of the congregation. He learned that, during normal Sunday services, the school's small auditorium could somewhat comfortably accommodate all of the worshippers since there were several services a day. However, on holidays and during special events when the entire congregation gathered together, it was impossible to meet inside, so church members had no option but to erect a platform in the adjacent field to handle the large crowds of people. And, as often happens in zany slapstick comedies and in Oklahoma, the congregation often fell victim to our fickle weather and found themselves attempting to focus on religious celebrations while dealing with torrential downpours, sudden tornado threats, dress-lifting wind, and stifling heat.
Armed with this knowledge, Jones began sketching plans that incorporated the Miesian box he had so successfully used in his firm's designs for the Tulsa Airport, as well as his own, award-winning home in the same city. The church would be made up of 52 pre-cast concrete panels that the parishioners could lift into place, forming the outer, windowless walls of the building. Using concrete and having no exterior windows would allow the congregation to both save money and do most of the construction work themselves.
Also, using a simple box as the basic form allowed Jones to get creative with the interior space, which would be a church within a church ... literally.
Picture those cute Russian matryoshka (or nesting) dolls where a small doll fits into a bigger one that fits into an even larger one, and you get the idea. Jones envisioned a small, glass-encased sanctuary where up to 500 of the congregation could meet for weekly services and feel cozy yet comfortable. Surrounding the glass sanctuary would be a larger concrete building that could be used for overflow when the entire parish gathered for special events. The idea was simple yet brilliant, but in order for the design to work, the glass sanctuary had to be an entirely open space without any kind of internal support.
That's where Felix Candela comes into the story.
Candela, a Spaniard exiled to Mexico after fighting on the losing side in the Spanish Civil War, was one of the first to embrace the use of thin-shell concrete in his incredibly futuristic designs. Lightweight, malleable, and perhaps most importantly, inexpensive, thin-shell concrete allowed post-WWII architects to play with roof designs in a way they were never able to before. Instead of traditional, heavy roofs that had to be supported by several interior beams, which, therefore, dictated the design, the lightness of thin-shell concrete (sometimes only an inch or two thick) removed the need for interior support altogether. Walls could be rearranged or completely removed, and interior space could be opened up and played with. This new freedom allowed for pure, uninhibited creativity to abound for the first time in architectural history.
Already an internationally-known figure in architectural circles, Candela came on board as the project's structural engineer, and the way he solved the problem of creating the glass sanctuary as an open space was to incorporate the thin-shell supporting "umbrellas" he had used so effectively in a previous design, Mexico City's High Life Textile Factory building.
Basically, Jones used 10 of Candela's hyperbolic parabaloid umbrellas as the roof for the glass sanctuary, which enabled it to be an open, free-standing space within the larger building. With Candela's contribution, Jones had his church within a church.
Soon, however, the pleasant working relationship between architect and engineer tensed when Candela expressed his dislike for Jones' Miesian design, saying it didn't look at all like a church. Instead, he suggested that, since the sanctuary was named after St. Patrick, it should be designed like a shamrock. Seriously ... a shamrock.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Jones balked at Candela's whimsical suggestion and told Kanaly, " “Either you have the right architects and the wrong engineer or the wrong engineer and the right architects.” Luckily, Jones' more sophisticated vision prevailed, and no shamrock church was built in Oklahoma City. However, Candela was never happy with the design. When he penned a book about his remarkable career later in life, Candela never mentioned his participation in the St. Patrick's project, and the church is not included in any of his online project lists.
With the basic design complete, it was time to think about more artistic aspects of the church. Kanaly brought in art consultant, Frank Kacmarcik, to help. A true Renaissance man, Kacmarcik was a monk, a gifted writer and artist, and a scholar who was uniquely suited for the job at hand. He had worked with architect Marcel Breuer during the design and building of Breuer's St. John's monastery in Minnesota and was also friends with Bauhaus-trained artist, Josef Albers, who headed Yale's design department at the time.
Kacmarcik's contribution to St. Patrick's is perhaps the church's most dramatic and awe-inspiring feature, the design for the 50 giant, stylized angels symbolizing the "heavenly Jerusalem," which would be imbedded in the interior concrete panels and protectively surround the glass sanctuary. He also asked his friend, Albers, to design the embellishments for the alter -- a gold brick wall and abstract, Bertoia-inspired hanging sculpture.
The final adornment would be the elegant and ultra-modern bell tower dramatically jutting up from the earth in an elongated vertical sweep, dwarfing the horizontal line of the church and making the combination of the two very cross-like in appearance. Made of concrete pillars and topped by a redwood cross, the bell tower would house three bells symbolizing Mary, St. Joseph, and St. Patrick.
With the design complete, it was now time for the true hard work to begin. Ever the motivator, Kanaly rallied his congregation, and they all rolled up their collective sleeves and began the task of building their own modern-day cathedral right here in the heart of Oklahoma. During the next two years, over 500 parishioners spent most of their spare time hammering, pouring, sanding, cutting, and carving Jones' blueprints into reality. They excavated the site and poured the foundation, cut the stone floor, built the wooden forms used to cast the angels, carved the long, wooden pews, applied gold leaf to Albers dramatic brick alter screen, and finished out the walls. At the end of the day, only the steel, concrete, and electrical work was outsourced to professionals.
Finally, many calloused hands, hammered fingernails, and long work weekends later, St. Patrick's was finished, and "the church the people built," as it came to be known, opened for its first service on September 23, 1962. Jones' only Oklahoma City building was a masterpiece and was immediately recognized as such by the North American Liturgical Conference, who awarded the building the Cardinal Lercaro Gold Medal, the first of 28 architectural awards the building would receive.
St. Patrick's also appeared in many national magazines in the ensuing months and received a coveted cover shot in Progressive Architecture by famed architectural photographer, Julius Shulman. When he came to OKC to photograph St. Patrick's, Shulman was particularly taken with how beautifully the natural light filtered into the building, giving it a peaceful, serene "glow." He wanted to capture that glow in Kacmarcik's angels and patiently waited hour after hour until the sun perfectly glinted in an angel's eye behind the alter, then he clicked one time and had the perfect shot.
When I met him years later, Shulman told me how impressed he was with the simple elegance of St. Patrick's (and with Jones' work in general). When I told him the church hadn't changed a bit since he first saw it nearly 50 years before, Shulman smiled and said, "There's no need to tamper with perfection."
Indeed.
So, after my conversation with David, I was still skeptical but even more curious. One crisp-but-cloudless fall afternoon, I decided to take his advice and stop and have a look at what lies behind that huge, almost fortress-like concrete facade on Portland. I entered the church and walked through Monsignor Don Kanaly's glorious brainchild, taking in Bob Jones' masterful vision, protected by Felix Candela's graceful umbrellas and watched over by Frank Kacmarcik's stunning angels.
Damn, David was right! This place is AMAZING!
Instead of force feeding you details of my impressions of this architectural marvel, I'm going to follow David's lead, offer up a knowing, confident nod, and gently whisper to you ...
"Just go check it out."
Seemingly abandoned storefront in Peoria, Illinois. The sign says "Photos, by appt. only" but it also says "Clothes" and "Books".
Now seemingly in the minority compared to new liveries, the sole old liveried 10 plate Spare was seen helping out on Yellows, since they need a good number of spares daily following repaints of a few of the 61 plates which previously graced the route...
989 approaches Victoria Centre with a 68 from Snape Wood, Bulwell and Basford.
At the Louvre, seemingly underground in a Pharaoh's tomb. January 2015.
The sphinx is a fabulous creature with the body of a lion and the head of a king. This one was successively inscribed with the names of the pharaohs Ammenemes II (12th Dynasty, 1929-1895 BC), Merneptah (19th Dynasty, 1212-02 BC) and Shoshenq I (22nd Dynasty, 945-24 BC). According to archaeologists, certain details suggest that this sphinx dates to an earlier period - the Old Kingdom (c. 2600 BC).
This is one of the largest sphinxes outside of Egypt. It was found in 1825 among the ruins of the Temple of Amun at Tanis (the capital of Egypt during the 21st and 22nd dynasties). This impressive stone sculpture with its precise details and polished surfaces is a work of admirable craftsmanship. The recumbent lion, with tense body and outstretched claws, gives the impression of being ready to leap. The shen hieroglyph sculpted on the plinth under each paw evokes a cartouche, confirming the royal nature of the monument.
Some City churches seem to be open, if not all the time, then frequently. But others rarely seem to open their doors to visitors. Then there are those who seemingly don't want anyone to see inside their wonderful buildings. Which is more than a shame, really. These houses of God should be for everyone, not just the custodians.
Saying that, I must take another opportunity to thank The Friends of the City churches, and the time given by their volunteers who give up their time to ensure that these are open at least one day a week.
So, in the past two years, I think I have visited all of the churches that they are keyholders for, and so without this fine organisation, I would not have seen inside many of them.
St Benet's is open between 11:00 and 15:00 on Thursdays, and despite wondering whether it would be open as advertised, the greeters assured me it is open each and every Thursday.
St Benet's is unique in that I think I am right in saying that it is the only City Wren church that survived the Blitz undamaged. In which case, Wren would reconise this church, over all others he helped rebuild after the great fire in 1666.
It is now situated tucked in the corner of an off ramp of Queen Victoria Street, and the pedestrian has to walk through an unwelcoming subway to get to the door, which on this occasion was open.
I was greeted warmly, and given a tour of the history of the church, plus tips on visiting other churches. A wonderful visit and a fine church.
----------------------------------------------------
The Church of St Benet Paul's Wharf is a Welsh Anglican church in the City of London. Since 1556, it has also been the official church of the College of Arms in which many officers of arms have been buried. In 1666 it was destroyed in the Great Fire of London, after which it was rebuilt and merged with nearby St Peter's. The current church was designed by Sir Christopher Wren.[1] It is one of only four churches in the City of London to escape damage during World War II.
St. Benet's traces its history back to the year 1111, when a church was built on the site and dedicated to St Benedict. Over time the name was abbreviated to St. Benet. To the west of the site was the watergate of Baynard's Castle, which is referenced in the biographies of Queen Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey. Both the church and the castle were destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. It was rebuilt by the architect Christopher Wren, and reopened in 1683.
St Benet Paul's Wharf, London, taken from the top of nearby St Paul's Cathedral. Visible behind the church is the City of London School.
On 2 March 1706, Henrietta Hobart married Charles Howard, 9th Earl of Suffolk, a captain in the 6th (Inniskilling) Dragoons there. (Henrietta Howard subsequently became mistress to the future King George II.)[2]
The church was narrowly saved from destruction in the late 19th century, when its parish was merged with that of St Nicholas Cole Abbey. After an energetic campaign by its supporters, it was preserved and reconsecrated in 1879 as the London Church of the Church in Wales.[3] It is now the City's Welsh church, with services conducted in Welsh.[4]
In 2008 the church was closed for a few months due to a "dwindling congregation"[5] but reopened in time for the carol service in December that year. Welsh services are held weekly on Sundays at 11 a.m and 3.30 p.m and the church can be toured on Thursdays between 11 a.m and 3 p.m.
The church is of dark red brick, with alternate courses of Portland stone at the corners. The tower is situated to the north-west of the nave and is capped by a small lead dome, lantern and simple short spire.
The interior is almost a square. Unusually for a Wren church, the ceiling is flat rather than domed or curved. The north gallery was formerly used by the Doctors' Commons, and is now used by the College of Arms. Most of the original 17th century furnishings are still intact, including the magnificent altar table, reredos and pulpit, designed by Grinling Gibbons. The lectern and baptismal font are also original.[7]
The galleries are supported by Corinthian columns. There is a memorial to Inigo Jones, who was buried in the previous church, and a medallion bust of Sir Robert Wyseman, a benefactor of St Benet's who died in 1684.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Benet%27s,_Paul%27s_Wharf
A church has been on this site since 1111. Destroyed in the Great Fire, the present church was built by Wren and Hooke (possibly owing more to the latter) between 1677 and 1683. It was one of only four Wren churches to escape damage in the Second Word War but was vandalised in 1971: repaired and reopened in 1973. It has a long-standing connection with the College of Arms across the road. Also since 1879 the church has accommodated the Welsh Episcopalian congregation in London. It is therefore sometimes known as “the Welsh church”, though that is a misnomer. Paul’s Wharf was the wharf on the Thames from which stone and other building materials were conveyed for the Wren reconstruction of St Paul’s cathedral.
www.london-city-churches.org.uk/Churches/StBenetPaulsWhar...
There has been a church on this site, dedicated to St Benet (or Benedict), since the Twelfth Century.
Shakespeare refers to it in Twelfth Night: Feste, the Clown asking Duke Orsino to add a third to the two coins he is offering reminds him: “...the bells of St Bennet, sir, may put you in mind -– one, two, three.”
In the Sixteenth Century, because the watergate of Baynard’s Castle was close by, both Anne Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey may have received the last rites at St Benet on their way to execution at the Tower. The River Thames was, of course, an important thoroughfare at the time and the unlucky women could have completed their journey by boat.
St Benet is the only unaltered Wren church in the City. All but four were damaged in the Second World War and the other three either suffered the effects of an IRA bomb or have been restored.
The royal connection continued with Charles II having a special door at the side of the building and a private room from which he could take part in services. The Stuart arms can be seen above the west door marking the vantage point from which the king observed proceedings below.
Until 1867 St Benet was the parish church of Doctors Commons, a legal institution which, among its other activities, could provide facilities for hasty marriages. There is a record, for instance, of some 1300 weddings taking place in one year alone in the Eighteenth Century.
In 1747, Henry Fielding, the author of Tom Jones, Joseph Andrews and Shamela, married his second wife here.
In 1879 Queen Victoria removes St Benet from the list of churches to be demolished and grants the use of the church to the Welsh Anglicans for services.
The Officers of the College of Arms still have their own seats in St Benet’s and their personal banners hang from the gallery together with that of the Duke of Norfolk. At least 25 Officers are buried here.
In the 1870s the church was regarded as redundant and scheduled for demolition. Eminent Welsh Anglicans petitioned Queen Victoria to be allowed to use the building for services in Welsh. In 1879, Her Majesty granted the right to hold Welsh services here in perpetuity and this has continued ever since, with a service each Sunday morning.
In 1954, in the reorganisation of the City churches and parishes, St Benet became one of the City Guild churches as well as the Metropolitan Welsh Church.
The eminent composer Meirion Williams was the church organist in the 1960s and 1970s. As well as a Mass, Missa Cambrensis, he wrote a number of other works, including songs which are particular favourites of contemporary Welsh opera singers.
In 1971 a fire started by a vagrant damaged the north side of the church. During the repair work, necessitated mainly by smoke and heat damage, the Nineteenth Century organ was moved and rebuilt in its present (and original) position in the west gallery. When the church was reopened in May 1973, the congregation received a message from the Prince of Wales and trumpeters from the Royal Welsh Regiment blew a fanfare in celebration.
Today, the growing congregation at St Benet's remains committed to making known the good news of Jesus afresh to the current generation of the Welsh in London.
Seemingly there are three times more ponies in Iceland than humans. My maths takes that to about one million. Some are domesticated however others are loosely looked after my farmers but still remain wild. All have a distinctive shaggy appearance.
Week in the Life Digi kit from Ali Edwards
Today my seemingly harmless cold turned into a bad respiratory infection.
I could have decided to let it all go, but this year I decided to just go with it and do my best to tell the story even though I wasn't well.
I dragged myself out to my 19 week ultrasound, as there was no way to re-book in the ultrasound this week. All 5 (well 6) of us headed out in the windy weather to see out new baby 'Forbes'.
Phill decided to stay home for the rest of the day since I was so sick.
I spent the rest of the day in bed while Phill did lunch (pies), took Emily to dance and did dinner (roast chicken)..
By the time we got the weekly online shopping delivery from Coles, I was feeling a little better. So I helped clean up the kitchen and games room.
I watched a few barbershop videos (got sucked in searching for a good rendition of “I woke up this morning feelin' fine” barbershop style). Phill wasn't so impressed.
We watched an episode of Arrow and then I was in bed by 8:30pm
A seemingly-nonchalant driver brings the stock to form an Epsom Downs train back into Clapham Junction, having reversed beyond the station during engineering works between here and Victoria. One couldn't be too casual with the SUBs, as their Westinghouse brakes could not simply be released and re-applied easily to adjust for stopping in the right place and required to be got right first time! This characteristic disappeared with the EPBs and their electro-pneumatic system. 1980.
A seemingly local car to me, obviously been hiding away for some time, as it was out of tax in April '87.
Looked quite frilly, as you'd expect from a Datsun that's been off the road for 30 odd years, but it held up quite well.
Having seemingly exhausted a majority of the Park & Ride MetroDecker EVs, we move now onto the still-debranded MetroDeckers running on regular city services. Here, not visible in my first journey to see the MetroDeckers, the branding effort is simply to stick on a generic First York logo above the cab and on the front panel, and then to also stick on a colour-clashing 'Skyline' logo. This, too, doesn't wear well when the road salt is kicked up. One hopes that with the new rebranding effort York seems to be going for with the soon-to-be-cascaded diesel StreetDecks, these will be painted in a similar livery too. They surely can't keep looking like this.
Still bizarrely not painted into one of two fleet liveries well after the Covid frequency reduction, First York's 39518, a 2020 Optare MetroDecker EV originally intended for the Park & Ride, is seen coming off the Lendal Bridge on a 6 to the University of York.
The seemingly inexorable march of the pylons across the desert in Xinjiang Province, western China, as the gleaming structures awaited the attachment of the power lines in December 2009.
© David Hill.
Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon
_low light
__a finger on the lens
___a man looking the ground !
____a bigger paint than i think !!
L1270066
Taken from MoMa web site
www.moma.org/collection/conservation/demoiselles/ask.html
_____________
In 1907 Picasso was working in Paris, in his Montmartre studio known as the Bateau-Lavoir. At this time his work was evolving from the structural, Cézanne-inspired figures exemplified by Two Nudes (Spain, 1906) into a new pictorial language that he and Georges Braque would further refine and transform. One Picasso scholar has described the paintings of these early years as a progression from "outer presence to inner shape, from color to structure, and from modified romanticism to a deepening formalism (Schwartz, Cubism, p. 15)." Les Demoiselles d'Avignon churned together Picasso's earlier subject matter, specifically the classical nude, with Iberian statuary—ancient pre-Spanish sculpture—and African art, beloved for its seemingly abstract simplifications. The painting has also been viewed as the young Picasso's brutish reaction to Henri Matisse's bold and idyllic 1906 masterpiece, Le Bonheur de Vivre (Barnes Foundation). Picasso evidently provoked his fellow artists and critics with the monumental bordello scene, formerly titled The Philosophical Brothel, in which five prostitutes seductively invite the viewer into a splintered and faceted space that confounds our understanding of the image.
__________
The following questions were addressed directly to the conservators during the conservation of Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon.
I have some questions on treatments and analyses of Les Demoiselles d'Avignon. The questions are listed below.
How do you pick up the best one of hundreds of kinds of varnishes for a target oil painting in terms of colorimetry? Is there any priority of choices?
Colorimetry is not the first criterion for choosing an appropriate varnish for use in a conservation treatment. Conservators tend to use varnishes that have been formulated specifically for superior long-term aging qualities. They offer stability, good handling properties and superior optical qualities. They are soluble in a range of solvents, which offers flexibility in their application, whether via a brush or spray.
How do you manipulate the thickness of varnish? Is the thickness uniform over a painting surface? Is Manipulating thickness (thick or thin) important for a final result?
The thickness (viscosity) of the varnish is determined by the ratio of solvent to solids in the varnish mixture. This will also depend on the choice of solvent and the molecular weight of the polymer making up the varnish. One can build up a thicker coating by spraying successive layers of varnish rather than applying one thick coat with a brush. It is important to achieve the proper optical effects.
The thickness of varnish affects the appearance of a painting. (Of course, not only color but also tone). It might be a reasonable thought that a restorer try to use several techniques of varnish-thickness control with brush, spray, and whatever for a preferred result. That means varnishing is a highly artificial process, not to reproduce the original varnish made by Picasso himself.
Yes, the varnish layers can be manipulated to produce the desired effects of matte and gloss and to help disguise areas of restoration. Picasso did not varnish the painting. He objected to the appearance of varnish on modern paintings. This is one reason why we removed the discolored varnish that restorers used and decided not to revarnish Les Demoiselles d'Avignon.
Is it possible to use the different recipe or palette of oil paints from Picasso's one for filling? If so, what is a reason of the possibility?
The filling done was very minimal. The material used was a material consisting of chalk in a water-based synthetic binder. This is a reversible material unlike oil paints, which could not be safely removed at a later date.
Is it not crucial to look at the photo of an artwork taken in the previous restoration in terms of color confirmation? This question comes from the fact that a color photo sometimes does not show precious colors to us.
It is important to document the restoration stages with photography and other imaging techniques. However, we know that color photographs are susceptible to color shifts so they are unreliable documents for color matching. During the retouching stage one would only rely on a photograph to help reconstruct large areas of damage or loss. Fortunately this was not the case for Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, and the retouches could be matched to surrounding paint without having to rely on a photograph.
How many times could the painting be restored? Is it possible that one day it couldn't be restored?
The painting has been treated at least four times in less than one hundred years. Depending on the extent of the treatment the painting could be restored many times more. We don't anticipate many future restorations since the painting is monitored very closely in the museum environment. With this in mind, it is conceivable that the painting will be with us for many generations to come only requiring minimal restoration every twenty or thirty years.
I notice that on your web site you mention that although the picture is lined, the evidence indicates that the lining occurred after the paint was applied and dry, probably in 1924. I was wondering how you know that, if you think Picasso did this or someone else, and why?
We know that the lining occurred after the painting was dry since there is evidence on the surface that the heat and pressure used during the lining process caused minor deformations in the paint, such as blisters and flattened impasto. There was also residue of the glue used in the lining on top of the paint, which was removed during the recent treatment. We also know from archival evidence that Jacques Doucet sent the painting to a reliner when he acquired Les Demoiselles d'Avignon in 1924.
"Paintings that have been varnished are also cleaned, or more accurately, devarnished, when the varnish discolors over time and thus distorts the original colors of the painting. Finally, some paintings should not have been varnished at all, and a varnish can compromise the essential aesthetic." In this case, a painting that may be de-varnished, not to be re-varnished once the cleaning is finished, what steps do you take to help conserve the painting without using varnish?
The presence of the varnish on a painting, which the artist did not intend to be varnished, does not preserve the painting. Indeed it can do much to diminish the essential quality of the painting. To protect the surface of an unvarnished painting from dirt and grime there are, if necessary, a number of things we do. In some cases the paintings are framed with glass or Plexiglas to protect the surface. This not only provides a physical barrier from airborne grime but also provides a buffer against any climactic changes and (in the case of Plexiglas) protection from damaging UV light. In the case of a painting the size of Les Demoiselles d'Avignon we might decide to place a barrier in front of the work to prevent visitors from approaching too closely. Under these circumstances the only treatment necessary would be a routine dusting with a soft brush once a month or so.
How long will this restoration process take, and when will the painting be on view again?
We expect the restoration, cleaning, and retouching, along with documentation of the process, to take about six months.
How does one determine that a painting needs to be cleaned?
The cleaning of a painting may be undertaken for a number of different reasons. One frequent reason is that the surface of the painting has acquired a discoloring layer of dirt and grime, the removal of which is called a surface cleaning. Paintings that have been varnished are also cleaned, or more accurately, devarnished, when the varnish discolors over time and thus distorts the original colors of the painting. Finally, some paintings should not have been varnished at all, and a varnish can compromise the essential aesthetic of the painting. When it is clear from the historical record that a painting has been varnished that should not have been, conservators will devarnish the work—if it is safe to do so—in order to try to restore more of the original surface quality to the painting.
Why is it important that restorations be reversible?
Reversibility is essential because it allows future generations to identify and remove restoration materials from a work of art without affecting the original material of the work. Thus, if these restoration materials change or discolor they can be easily and safely replaced. Similarly, if a current restoration is, in the future, thought to be inappropriate due to additional research, it can be safely removed and redone.
I was just wondering how you match the paint when restoring. Specifically, are the types of paint used in the work available now for the restoration?
We know through technical analysis which pigments were in Picasso's palette. These pigments are still available, in more refined versions and in formulations with synthetic binding media. Light stable restoration paints are also available to today's conservator. They can be used to match Picasso's palette but have the advantage of being soluble in solutions that will not affect Picasso's original oil paint. This ensures that any restorations applied to the original are "reversible" and can be removed easily when and if necessary. The color matching is achieved with a combination of skill and experience gained from a familiarity with original artists' materials and materials available to conservators.
It is great to know that a masterpiece is getting restored to its former glory. How can you match the color (if retouching is needed) to the original that Picasso applied (since most of the early pictures taken of the piece where in black in white?).
Relying on photographs would only be necessary if there were large areas of loss requiring reconstruction during the restoration. Fortunately, this is not the case with Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. Inpainting will only be done in small, discrete areas of lost paint and the losses will be toned to match surrounding paint so that they are no longer visually distracting. In this case the color matching will be done using easily reversible restoration paints mixed to match the color and gloss of Picasso’s original oil palette.
Picasso was alive and painting recently enough to know about restoration procedures in some shape or form. Why do we think that his paintings were not meant to age? Is there a way to know that he wanted them always to appear fresh and new rather than letting them age naturally, like a fine wine?
Picasso had a philosophical approach to the condition of his works. Gertrude Stein paraphrased his thoughts: “After all, if it all ages together why not?” This restoration aims to respect that point of view—not to make the painting look fresh and new, but to make it look that it has all aged together. Thus materials that were not original are being removed and the retouching we do of lost paint will match the aged paint. Signs of aging will therefore still be evident, even after our conservation treatment is completed, without distracting from the essential power of the painting.
What characteristics of Picasso's work and style did you have to be familiar with in order to be able to intervene in his work?
An in-depth study of Picasso's painting materials preceded the treatment of Les Demoiselles d'Avignon. These materials were found to be consistent with other works from the same period, including the small study in MoMA's collection and published results of other technical studies of Picasso's work (cf. Delbourgo and Koussiaki). Information on the original materials, coupled with knowledge of the materials used by restorers/conservators in the past (e.g. wax and synthetic varnish), allowed us to arrive at an appropriate treatment that will allow Picasso's original materials to be conserved while removing restorers' later additions that have discolored over time.
What is your attitude when you face art pieces by completely different artists?
It is best to be familiar with many examples of an artist's work before a restoration is attempted. Knowing the range of materials that one may encounter helps the conservator make an informed decision about conservation treatments and materials that are both compatible with the original and easily reversible should they discolor over time.
Have you ever noticed a recurring damage or problem you have treated that is found characteristically on the work of Picasso or any other artist?
Fortunately Picasso used materials that were of high quality. His training as an academic artist meant that he knew exactly how to use art materials in a way that would ensure their longevity. Even still, his technique could sometimes be slightly at odds with his materials. He worked so quickly that sometimes under-layers of paint did not have time to thoroughly dry before he applied another layer on top. This could result in areas of drying cracks where the under-layer is visible (cf. the face of the crouching figure in Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, where a layer of cadmium yellow is visible through cracks in the uppermost paint layer). These cracks surely developed while the painting was still in Picasso's possession and maybe soon after the work was finished. Picasso was known to admire these kinds of conditions as a sign that the work had a life of its own. These drying cracks will not be altered since they are now stable and serve as evidence of Picasso's working methods.
We couldn't find a signature. Do you know about that?
Picasso did not always sign his finished works. However, paintings from this period (such as the monumental Three Women [autumn 1907–late 1908], now in the Hermitage, Saint Petersburg) were sometimes signed on the reverse of the canvas. The lining canvas applied in 1924 obscures the reverse of the original canvas of Les Demoiselles d'Avignon. It is possible that a signature exists but has remained obscured. However, our attempts to discover it through several examination techniques, including transmitted light, infrared photography, and X-rays, do not show any such signature.
In recent months there have been more wanderings of Go-Ahead London General's fleet of Wright StreetLite single deck vehicles from Merton (AL) bus garage with the vehicles straying away from their normal sphere of operation on route 219 linking Wimbledon with Merton, Colliers Wood, Tooting Bec, Wandsworth Common and Clapham Junction. In this view WS 19 is captured by my camera at the bus stop at the Morden end of St Helier Avenue with the vehicle seemingly encountering some kind of mechanical problem whilst on route 164 from Sutton Station to Morden and Wimbledon on the late afternoon of Friday 27th May 2022.
Sometimes on my road it's a question of just happening to be in the right place at the right time!