Lowestoft soft-paste porcelain: 1756-1801.

Map of Lowestoft in Suffolk,

facing Amsterdam across the North Sea.

A few years ago I asked my students to select an article on Lowestoft porcelain and they thought Antiques Trade Gazette to be particularly helpful.

Clay was found on the Gunton Hall Estate near Lowestoft in Suffolk in 1756, leading to a partnership of local men that established the first Lowestoft porcelain company, then known as Walker & Co. Records show that their distinctive blue and white hand-painted porcelain was highly successful, even though the East Anglian fishing port (see map) was far away from the oth­er centres of C18th porcelain production like London, Staf­f­ordshire or Liverpool.

The ceramic body was made from soft paste, using local clay and bone ash. Clearly the founders aimed to produce useful rather than purely orn­amental wares for local consumption: tea bowls and saucers, small cream boats, mugs, jugs, tea pots and pickle leaves. At first the de­coration was only in under glaze blue; it consisted, like other early English factories, of Chinese-inspired painted landscapes or simple floral motifs. Lowestoft soon added inscribed legends in blue then, from the 1770s, in poly­chrome enamels.

Lowestoft flask, c1780
14cm tall high
from the Geoffrey Godden collection,
sold for £24,000 at Bonhams

By the 1780s one of the factory's specialities was producing special commissions made to com­memorate a special birth or marriage; the pieces were inscribed with the recipient's name and event date. And occasionally there would be a view of a local land­mark. This meant that while Lowestoft porcelain was often unmarked, an unusually high proportion of the pieces were documentary. The Lowestoft busin­ess plan worked; the factory turned out tableware and a handful of small animals for 40+ years! It closed in 1801.

Despite that long production run, Lowestoft was a small business compared to Worcester, but enough of their porcelain has survived to make it worth collecting. Amongst the best known of the collections are the Russell Colman Collection of the local mustard-making family sold in 1948; the Peter Scully Collection, sold in 2008 at Lowestoft auctioneers Russell Sprake, and the Paul Collection formed between the 1930s and 1950s by a local family which sold at Bonhams in 2010.

At auction the top-priced Lowestoft pieces have been inscribed pieces: birth tablets, named and dated mugs, or the blue and white and polychrome painted mugs and inkwells famously inscribed A Trifle from Lowestoft. If the piece was painted with a rare local view, especially by the painter Thomas Allen, it sold particularly well. In 2010, £24,000/USA$38,000 was paid at Bonhams for a very rare flask from the Godden collection that displayed a local shipbuilding scene (see photo above).

Even more expensive was the £30,000/USA47,000 paid at Russell Sprake in 2011 for a guglet/carafe and basin painted in blue with various scenes around the town and coast (see photo below). The charming simplicity and functionality of this set was later added to by artist Robert Allen. His images of St Margaret's Church, the harbour and the town's roads gave great local appeal.

Lowestoft guglet and basin 1764-5,
23cm high
sold for £30,000 at Russell Sprak
This was a world record price for a piece of Lowestoft porcelain at the time.

Readers can examine a special birth tablet that Bonhams in London auctioned in May 2011. It was a circular shape with a raised rim. On one side was inscribed 'SS 1789' Samuel, son of Samuel and Ann Spurgeon, born Nov 1789. It was flanked by stylised florets, within a leafy floral garland, pierced for suspension. On the reverse side, painted in blue were two pagodas on an island, flanking a tall flowering plant, within a border of cross-hatching and scrollwork. The tablet came from The Paul Collection and had been sold at Sotheby's in Feb 1935. It was later exhibited in the Lowestoft China Bicentenary Exhibition 1957. A separate group of three Lowestoft birth tablets (dated 1790, 1792 and 1794) was sold in Bonhams London in Dec 1996.

tulip painter jug, by C.E Heanan, 1776

sold for : £12,000 at Russell Sprake

Peter Scully Collection

Two other sources of information are the catalogue from the 1957 Lowestoft Bi-centenary Exhibition held at Ipswich Museum, and the book Lowestoft Porcelain by Geoffrey Godden, Antique Collectors' Club, 1985.

Museum Opening of 2021: Carnavalet Paris

The Apollo Awards have been celebrated since 1992 with fine ceremonies. It’s still as important as ever to celebrate outstand­ing ach­ieve­ments in the museum world. Yet senior museum com­m­entators warn­ed that mus­eum culture may not endure with its cur­rent sense of purp­ose; funding for both national and regional instit­utions being squeez­ed still further. Thus the awards proclaim the museums have set the standards to which others should aspire.

Carnavalet Paris

C16th Renaissance architecture

Urban Sider

Each year, in selecting Museum Opening of the Year, Apollo Magazine judges created a shortlist of six museums. In 2021, the following museums were shortlisted.

1. Casa Balla Rome, opened June 2021. From 1929 til he died in 1958, Giacomo Balla lived in this Roman flat Via Oslavia. Having been left to his daught­ers, the flat was a living laboratory for the Futurist’s work, its walls, furniture and utensils one big canvas. Casa Balla was opened to the public for the first time.

2. Denver Art Museum, re-opened Oct 2021. Its display space greatly improved with the re­furbishment & expansion of Gio Ponti’s fortress-like building, first opened 50 years ago. It gained a Welcome Cent­re & new conservation studios. And its galleries have been rehung to reflect asp­ec­ts of DAM’s holdings, from Latin American art to Alaskan art.

3. Humboldt Forum Berlin, opened July 2021. After long delays and a cost of c€644m, this reconstruct­ion of the C18th Berlin Palace, damaged by the Soviets after WW2, finally op­ened. Now there is a permanent display of the coll­ections of the former Eth­nologisches Museum and the Museum für Asiat­ische Kunst.

4. Kunsthaus Zürich, re-opened Oct 2021. After 12 years of planning, construction and £163m spent, David Chipperfield’s extension to Kunsthaus Zürich has doubled its space for showing art made since 1960. And note the works by Monet, Degas and Van Gogh from the collection of Emil Georg Bührle. It’s now the largest art museum in Switzerland!

5. Musée Carnavalet Paris, re-opened May 2021. At Baron Haussmann's urging, his hôtel particul­ier in the Marais housed a 1880 museum dedicated to Paris’ his­tory. Af­ter a expensive (€50m) five-year redesign, Car­n­avalet displaying more of its collection, rangeing from C18th interiors to burning Notre-Dame 2019

The ceiling, Salons La Riviere by Charles Le Brun,

Carnavalet

6. Santa Barbara Museum Art, re-opened 2021. This West Coast museum celebrated its 80th birthday with a 6-year $50m renovation. The 1912 building was updated to bet­ter meet the needs of a modern museum, the project providing new space for its permanent collection, from Roman antiquities to modern art.

The Museum Opening of the Year winner in 2021 was announced.  Carnavalet Museum was always an impressive Parisian museum, full of anti­quarian clutter. Its atmosphere is insep­arable from its history, as the unexpected by-product of Baron Hauss­mann’s tough levelling of swathes of the city. Out of that de­struction arose the desire to conserve, albeit somewhat haphazardly.

Carnavalet’s collections were shaped by its donors’ eccen­tric­ities, whose relics of French history took many forms. Since it opened to the public in 1880, the museum’s holdings have rap­idly grown, unsystematically. Every Carnav­al­et fan has a favourite corner of the museum eg the miniature ivory Guillot­ines, crammed into the Revolutionary Memorabilia annex.

Carnavalet gallery

The reopened museum created a more accessible vis­it­or experience with­out sacrificing the sense of discovery. Enter via a hall full of shop signs from over the cen­turies, a vibrant record of historic Par­isian trades. The  museum's chronological scope has been ex­panded; a visit that used to begin in the C16th now goes into a basement with relics of Neolithic Paris. And the museum pushes into the cont­emp­orary, with exhibits linked to the recent terrorist attacks and the fire of Notre-Dame.

Wendel Ballroom

Carnavalet

The vast renovation allows a larger portion of the collect­ions to be visible and not stored away. So the curators worked hard to make the whole museum more logical through new exhibition rooms, stream­lined displays, an easier circulation through the galleries and elegant access points with sp­iral staircases. Old favourites are among the exhibits eg Proust’s bed. The period rooms have never looked more opulent, a monument to the style and grace of former resident Madame de Sévigné. Carnavalet is Paris’ ultimate palimpsest, an enthralling city museum. Thanks to the Lonely Planet for the photos.

Museum Opening of the Year – Apollo Awards 2023: Sydney Modern, Art Gallery of New South Wales

Apollo's Museum Opening of the Year, 2024: Fondation Bemberg, Toulouse

Waddesdon Manor: fine Rothschild art

Waddesdon was a typical village in Aylesbury Bucking­ham­shire. The medieval church in its centre reminds the town of its history that dates back to the times before the Norman conquest in 1066.

royal silver service commissioned by George III, 1770s

Made in France by goldsmith Robert-Joseph Auguste, 72 diners.

Waddesdon Manor

Ferdinand de Roth­schild (1839–1898) linked the English and Austrian branches of the famous European banking dyn­as­ty. Ferd­inand’s fat­h­er­, Viennese Baron Anselm de Rothschild, took over the Vien­nese bank in 1849. His mother Charlotte was the daughter of Nathan who est­ab­lished the NM Rothschild and Sons bank in London.

  
Born in Paris and raised in Frankfurt and Vienna, Ferdinand made England home in 1859. In 1865 he married his cousin Evelina de Roth­schild. Ferdinand bought a bare hilltop from the Duke of Marl­borough in 1874, and hired flamboyant French arch­it­­ect Gabriel-Hippolyte Destailleur to build him a chateau he’d seen in Touraine.

Ferdinand had Waddesdon Manor built between 1874-89. The manor’s spires, turrets and towers drew ins­pir­ation from the great Loire Valley chateaux of the Valois kings, with features from Chambord, and Blois. Did these features suit the English country­side? Yes, it was fit­ting that Ferdinand should bring a little piece of France to the Home Counties. But Waddesdon was huge. Did Ferdinand think that Uncle Lionel was going to leave all his art treasures to Evelina’s estate, even though Eveline died in childbirth in 1866? Probably not; anyhow Lionel’s had 4 other perf­ectly suitable heirs. Did Ferd­inand think he was going to amass a huge collection himself? Yes!

But even for Ferdinand, Destailleur’s vision was too grandiose. Over the Frenchman’s objections, new plans were drawn up. In the meantime, a railway was constructed to bring in building materials, the grounds were landscaped and mature trees were planted.

By summer 1877, week­end house parties enabled Ferdinand to showcase his coll­ect­ion of C18th French furniture, Sevres porcelain, Beauvais tapestries and English portraiture. Louis XV panelling from the Maréchal-Duc de Richelieu house was brought from Paris.

The Bach­elors’ Wing was completed in 1880, Ferdinand had small house parties for close male friends. Above the kitchens, the wing contained 10 bedrooms for single male guests and 15 extra bedrooms for the male staff. Its bil­liard room contains intricately carved, dark wood panelling from another French chateau. The smoking room displayed his C16th works of art, in locked cabinets.

In 1883, the house was complete. The Dining Room was a fine room, apparently inspired by Louis XIV’s state rooms at Vers­ailles. Note the marble walls, gold Beauvais tapestries by François Bouch­er, two giant chandeliers, French rococo mirror frames by Nicolas Pineau from the Paris house of the duc de Villars. After dinner, the men remained in the room and drank port. The wom­en retired to the Grey Drawing Room to listen to music, play cards and admire the three tall Sir Joshua Reynolds por­traits.

  

Dining room

marble walls, gold Beauvais tapestries, chandeliers

In 1889, Ferdinand acknowledged his architect’s original advice was correct and the house was extended. Guests in the Morning Room read newspapers and wrote let­ters, seated at one of two desks which had once stood in Louis XVI’s study at Versailles, surrounded by Dutch Old Masters. If Fer­dinand needed privacy, he disap­peared into the Small Library, immersing himself in his books on politics, his­t­ory and literature. His small writing table was originally made for Marie Antoinette.

Because of the many properties owned by the family in the Aylesbury Vale, Ferdinand had ample time to pursue his real pass­ions. With little interest in banking, he devoted himself instead to a] pol­it­ics, b] art collecting and c] philanthropy. Ferdinand settled into the community, representing Aylesbury as Liberal MP from 1885 on, and serving as JP and Sheriff of Buck­ing­hamshire. In the Jewish community, Ferdinand served as Treasurer of the Board of Guardians from 1868-1875, was Warden of the Central Synagogue and founded the Technical Scholarship at Stepney Jewish Schools. And he established and supported the Evelina Hospital for Sick Children in London.

From late 19th on, Waddesdon had very special visit­ors. Its weekend house parties entertained royals, Parliamentarians and the cream of aristocratic society. Ferdinand often entertained both the Prince of Wales and Prime Minister William Gladstone. In 1890, Queen Victoria visited Waddesdon, leaving Ferdinand a bust of herself.

The new Rothschild Treasury, housed in the old servants’ quart­ers, was a contemporary version of a Schatzkammer-C16th treas­ure room. 300 objects were lent by the family eg a silver gilt baby set of a beaker and cutlery bearing the monogram FR. A gold brace­let with Victoria’s portrait en­crust­ed with dia­monds was a royal gift to Ferdinand’s sister Alice (1847-1922). A mahogany chest contained an ancient coll­ection of gold and silver Greek and Roman coins.

A pearl tiara was a wedding gift to a new Rothschild bride from her future father-in-law. Some of its emeralds formerly belonged to Empress Eugenie of France. An extrav­agant silver/enamel Renaissance revival commemor­at­ion vase was given to Ferd­inand’s great-uncle by the Frankfurt branch of the Rothschild bank.

The family also had a passion for sponsoring archaeological ex­cavations eg see ancient jewellery and glass from the Middle East and a C2nd gold engagement ring. A fascination with tech­nical ingenuity caused Ferdinand to collect 2 astronomical clocks; the C18th clock had been acquired by Ferdinand’s father, Anselm.

Ferdinand’s sister Alice von Rothschild purchased her Piccadilly house in 1866 after the death of her sister-in-law Ev­e­lina, so that she could be close to her widowed brother. And she purchased the neighbouring estate to Waddesdon, where she built a small house. Alice inherited Waddesdon from Ferdinand after he died in 1898.

 Reynolds and Gainsborough paintings

Dutch landscapes, Morning room

The Waddesdon Collection

The house is no longer owned by the Rothschilds since it was bequeathed to the National Trust in 1957. Now they are in­viting visitors to see architecture, fine arts, decorative arts and collectables. I recommend reading Mr M of Telford. 

Waddesdon Manor, from the parterre

Mr M of Telford

Feodor Ruckert Faberge silver, cloisonné enamel

Ruckert, coloured tea service, 1887-96, Alamy

Early medieval Russian silver often included calm niello work and ornamental lines with black enamel. But under Tsar Peter the Great (1682-1725), who west­ernised the Russ­ian Empire, local silversm­iths began explor­ing modern forms. The Imperial family and weal­thy cl­asses dined from fash­ionable, solid-silver Baroque, Rococo, then Neoclassic-style gob­lets, plat­ters, caviar dishes and bas­kets. Showy gilt-silver cigar­ette cas­es, cigar cas­es and tankards sat on shelves. Silver mirrors, per­fume bott­l­es, powder boxes and jewel­l­ery caskets went onto ladies dressers.

Cloisonné: an enamelling technique made from soldering de­licate metal strips bent to the outline of a des­ign, and filling the result­ing cellular compartments with vitreous enam­el paste. The ob­j­ect then was fired, ground smooth & polished. The strips were made from gold, brass or silver. Eventually bright co­lourful clois­onné-enamel florals were popular. Many ob­jects featured bolder champlevé-enamel des­ig­ns, the recesses fil­led with vitreous enamel before firing.

The Late Imperial Era saw prolific prod­uction. Friedrich Ruckert (1840-1917) was born in South Germ­any. At 14 he emigrated to Russia to work for a princely family, now re­named Feodor Ruckert. He spent most of his life in his bel­oved Moscow, where he had his art work­sh­ops. Eventually he had 14 craftsmen working for him, having full control over the creat­ive and prod­uct­ion proc­esses.

Ruckert, by Alamy 

                                                                              

Rückert was the most talented craftsman of enamelled silver objects in Imperial Russia. In Moscow, the cen­t­re of Russ­ian silver prod­uc­tion, he became an enamel master in 1886, working with every enamelling tech­n­ique (cloisonné, champlevé, en plein, guilloche and plique-à-jour).

Fol­lowing the Russian Revival style in the arts, Ruckert started producing traditional Russian des­igns, incorpor­ating foliage in de­l­icately shaded hues. Gradually his exper­im­ents with a more mod­ern colour palette and more intricate design el­ements develop­ed into a recognis­ab­le original style, while still tradit­ionally Slavic.

Rückert collaborated with some of the most resp­ected firms of his time. In 1886 he opened his own, new work­shop in Mos­cow and in 1887 he signed a cont­ract with Fab­ergé. In fact for 30 years Ruckert was the main supp­lier of clois­onné enamel for Fab­er­gé. Still, Ruck­ert supplied ot­h­­er important Rus­s­ian retailers eg Bolin.

Unlike other Europeans, Imperial Russians drank their tea at home and not in public tearooms. So the samovar was placed in the cent­re of the dining table and the accompanying tea sets had to be at­tractive. The tea sets included caddies, tea glass holders, sugar-cube boxes and cr­eam jugs. And to save the expense of sugar, some tea sets included a jam basket.

Rückert’s silver-gilt and cloisonné enamel tea service, Moscow, 1899-1908 a teapot, tea caddy and cr­eamer  with tiers of lobed teardrop panels with varicoloured stylised flowers and foliage (35,000 - 45,000 GBP Sotheby’s)

See Ruck­ert’s solid silver and cloisonné enamel salt, decorated with foliate enamels on gilded matted ground, set with cab­o­ch­­on emeralds. Moscow, 1908-17.

Enameled sugar bowl

Invaluable

Craftsmen in Moscow, especially those supervised by master Feodor Rück­ert, became known for their work in the pan-Slavic or neo-Russian style, referring back to C17th motifs of folk art. See, for example, silver-gilt and enamel kovshs-wine ladles retailed by Faber­gé, which inc­or­­porated enamel reproductions by Russ­ian artists.

The opulent lifestyle of Russia’s upper classes ended with the political upheavals of the early C20th. Heaps of pre­cious silver pieces seized from silversmiths, jewellers, weal­thy merch­ants, aristocrats and the Russian Imperial Family were melt­ed. Some were sold internationally for cash, or smug­gled out by westerners. Of­­ten on con­vent­­ional shapes, Rückert and his silver­sm­iths created an explos­ion of col­our, attained through the historic use of cl­oisonné enamel in which tiny metal lines were soldered to the surface then filled with glass powders in various colours and fired to a high gl­oss fin­ish. The result was a sp­ectacular ev­ocation of the C17th or­ig­inals. But far from mere copies, Rück­erts designs employed natural­is­t­ic or abst­r­act motifs in a modern adaptation of an earlier era.

Until 1908, Rückert’s work drew on Russian historical design preced­ents especially C17th Russian ornament. But after 1908 his work re­f­lected the influence of the emerging Neo-Russian style, which combin­ed Art Nouveau with Russian vernacular forms. Promoted by Stroganov Institute Design School, this Russian visual voc­­abulary spread across the decorative arts. He often com­bin­ed min­iatures based on Russian history th­emes with new arab­esque motifs.

Rückert’s designs were rooted in the C19th fas­­cination with national identity and culminating in the 1913 anniversary celeb­rat­ions of the Romanov Dyn­asty. But when WWI started in 1914, the Rückert family was being persecuted as a Foreign Enemy. Although the family st­rongly split from Germany and wrote to Nicholas II pl­eading for protection, they were treated as prison­ers of war and exiled. From 1915 any mention of Rüc­k­ert’s workshop in the Mos­cow Dir­­­­ec­t­­ory of Trade ended. Rückert died in Moscow in 1917.

 silver and cloisonné enamel bowl with bear heads handles, Moscow, 1908-17. 

Invaluable

Modern Russia
The 1991 breakup of the Soviet Union and then the rise of a weal­thy oligarchy inspired growing national­ism, an interest in art his­tory and a new generation of col­l­ectors. Fortunately Rückert’s timeless, Neo-Russian style withstood the chaos of the Russian Revol­ution and his works remained popular in the mod­ern mark­et. A record was established Nov 2018: an enamelled kovsh, £490,000.

Kovsh by Rückert, 1899–1908,

Khalili Collection of Enamels of the World

And see the parcel-gilt silver and cloisonné enamel bowl (above), cast with handles shaped as bear heads Moscow. It sold for $43,750.

Mark Rothko's unusual chapel, Houston Tx.

Mark Rothko

Mark Rothkowitz Rothko (1903–70) was raised in an Orthodox Jewish family in Dvinsk Latvia, rejecting Jew­ish obser­v­ance as a teenager only once they were in the US. Yet his life in New York was inflect­ed by Jewish culture at nearly every turn, especially in the art­is­t­ic company he kept, including Adolph Gottlieb, Barnett Newman and Louise Nevelson. Plus the curat­ors and critics he dealt and argued with eg Clement Greenberg and Harold Rosenberg. Examine his early works in this blog.

Rothko began with the idea of a painted environment in the 1950s, when he created his Seagram murals for a posh NY rest­aur­ant which was still under construction at the time. After complet­ing 40 great paintings in dark reds and browns, he loathed his work be­ing seen as fancy wall­paper. Rothko had a fit of rage, reneged on the deal and withdrew his works in 1958. Alas Roth­ko’s depression & paranoia were over­whelming him, so the art­ist stored the paintings until they were given to London’s Tate Gallery

Plaza in front of windowless chapel

Barnett Newman steel monument, Broken Ob­elisk

While Rothko had succeeded by the 1960s, he felt many view­ers failed to grasp the true signif­icance of his works. So he acc­epted a chapel commission from Franco-American oil philan­thropists John and Domin­ique de Menil in 1964. The chapel was to be the cul­min­ating monument in the Catholic Uni­versity of St Thomas in Houston Texas. Rothko’s wanted to evoke relig­ious responses from viewers. But why was it so crucial to an appreciation of his work?

The project’s first architect, Philip Joh­nson, had a Greek cross in mind. The chapel was orig­in­ally intended to be Roman Catholic, mod­elled on the Byz­antine Cath­edral of St Maria Assunta in Torcello Venice. But without a gold dome or mosaic of the Madonna and Child or bell tower, the chapel was no northern Italian basilica. Roth­ko acc­ept­ed the doct­rin­al context of the ch­apel and allowed the 14 Stat­ions of the Cross on the ex­ter­ior wall.

                                  

When the dedication of the chapel occurred in 1971, an interfaith service signified the official opening.

 

Buddhists

In his early 60s, Mark worked on the Rothko Chapel for 3 years so that he could feel the immersive experience he was seek­ing. His dark paintings con­t­ained dark texture effects. The hues varied, de­p­ending on the light in­t­ens­ity, so the paint­ings were different for every visitor. The human emot­ion expres­sed in the different colour values were devel­op­ed from lay­ered pig­ments, a charged quality that forced aud­iences to ex­am­ine their own emotions.. and made them cry.

Rothko privately sensed a chance to probe feelings that he admitted had been shaped by Jewish experiences of trauma and transcendence. He said that working within the norms of a Christian space was not a rejection of his heritage as much as the freedom to engage religion on his own terms.

The triptych was a medieval form invented to provide al­t­ar­­pieces illustrating generic crucifix­ions. So the chapel’s most patently Ch­ristian gesture was found in Rothko’s 3 nearly identical trip­tychs which encouraged the viewer’s dev­ot­ion­, as they would a tradit­ional Christ­ian al­tarpiece.

Dominique de Menil said the chapel was oriented toward the sacred, but it imposed no traditional environment. It offered a place where common orient­at­ion could be found, an orientation towards God and to man’s highest aspirations.

At a time when religious observance in the U.S was dec­lining, Rothko was betting on the rel­­evance of relig­ious art! He deliberately tried to harness the conventions of rel­ig­ious viewing, wanting the chapel paintings to be  approached with the fervour that a Last Judg­ment could induce. So Rothko invited viewers to approach his works with visual and spiritual expectations raised by Christian trad­ition; a resource not seen in Jewish art. In a middle-class part of Houston, on a quiet oak-lined street, the windowless Rothko Chapel was surrounded by a big lawn, a wall of ov­ergrown bamboo, and a reflecting pool with Barnett Newman’s imposing steel monument, Broken Ob­elisk. But the suite of Rothko paintings that lined the room was transformative.

Rothko hoped his works would create spiritual encount­ers, like the great old religious master pieces. Despite his enor­mous success by the mid-1960s, the chapel was giving Rothko his first opp­ort­unity to real­ise his late career goal. He wanted a circuit of per­manent paintings that would have a great visc­er­al impact on viewers.

In 1968 Rothko’s health deteriorated, and he became incr­easingly isolated. Rothko suicided in 1970, before the fin­al instal­lation of his 14 chap­el paint­ings. A year lat­er the Seagram murals were delivered to the chapel, lowered via the cupola and ins­tal­led for the opening. At the 1971 dedication, Domin­ique de Menil praised Rothko’s work for bringing viewers to the threshold of the divine. Since Rothko’s death, the Chapel has become a pilgrimage site, won by the artist’s willingness to probe human exper­ien­ce. Note the creation of the Rothko Chapel Óscar Rom­ero Award in recognition of courageous human rights advoc­acy and religious pluralism.

For 49 years, the light was never quite right

until the new skylight was created. 

After long consultation in 1999, the Rothko Chapel had a year of renovat­ions. For those drawn primarily by the chapel’s inter­faith and intercultural mission, the renovation was timely, gaining renewed art-historical im­p­or­tance. But I still ask: what would have led Mark Rothko, a non-practicing Jew, to work with the de Menils, who were motivated by their int­erest in ecumenical Christianity? They all wanted the chapel to become a place of peace, meditation and prayer! Today its board of directors is led by Roth­ko’s very clever son Dr Christopher Rothko, and the chapel is in con­stant use.

In his book Mark Rothko: From the Inside Out, Dr Rothko asked about the influence of Judaism on his fath­er’s art. Dad was the classic depressive Jew who was still open and honest about his Jewish soul-searching, whenever he was among his closest Jewish comrades. Rothko biographer Annie Cohen-Solal also examined Rothko’s re­lationship to Judaism in her book Mark Rothko: Toward the Light in the Chapel. She argued that throughout life, Mark remained connected to his father’s Orthodox Jewish ways and his own Talmudic education. Mark’s close friend poet Stanley Kunitz felt strongly that Rothko belonged to a great Judaic tradition, which was cen­t­ral to his art and life. It had to do with the sense of being! The best reference is by Aaron Rosen.

The Rothko Chapel, featuring the famous murals by painter Mark Rothko, closed after sustaining damage during Hurricane Beryl in 2024, now awaiting $30 million restoration.

Medical clowns help patients & save lives.

Clown with young child in bed, ? hospital
Biomedical Science

Medical clowns in a U.S hospital health-care team started when a professional clown at NY’s Big Apple Circus founded Clown Care in 1986. Cl­own­ing became a well-established way of helping patients of all ages during their recov­ery. Clowning in health-care sett­ings called for a special way of inter­acting with patients due to the variety of medical and emot­ional aspects in­volved; so it required empathy for each pat­ient’s illness & psych­ol­ogical condition. Clown doctors had to be able to integrate artistic skills with their patients eg mime and magic, useful in eliciting positive emotions.

They investigated the effects of clown intervention in a large variety of clinical British settings: 

1) clown intervent­ion induced positive em­otions, enhanced patients’ well-being, red­uced psychol­ogical sym­ptoms and emotional react­iv­ity, and prompted a decrease in negative emotions eg anxiety. 

2) clown doctors were also well-perceived by relatives and healthcare staff, and their pres­en­ce ap­peared to be useful in creating a lighter atmosphere in hospital.

Dr Patch Adams with patient and wife, Ogden Medical Centre, UT

Adams is a physician, clown and activist

St Lake Tribune.

Studies demonstrated the positive effects of medical clowns on the pre-procedural emotional state prior to the medical interventions or during anaesthesia, on general well-being during hospitalisat­ion, compliance with physical exams, adherence to therapy and on treatment outcomes.

Now for some details. Israel's Dream Doctors was founded in 2002, with 100+ members who work together with medical teams in 33 Israeli me­d­ical centres. Th­ese sal­­aried medical clowns visited patients, acc­ompanying doctors on rounds, sh­ow­ing sil­liness in unhappy set­­tings. Their wacky appearance made the cl­owns the non-intimidating members of the med­ical team. Since the war last year, the clowns have often vis­it­ed comm­unities of traumatised Israeli ref­ug­ees.

Soon after Oct 2023 massacre, medical clown Perla dr­ove from Jerus­alem to Eilat where members of the destroyed kibb­utz­im near Gaza were ev­acuated. She’d been a medical clown for 15 years, work­ing in Jer­usal­em’s Shaare Zedek Hospital, accom­p­­any­ing very ill pat­­ients. De­spite the silly cos­tume and nose, her the­r­ape­u­tic cl­­owning was serious, lift­ing traumatised evacuees’ spirits.

Perla wore a bright outfit, hair flowers, striped knee socks and red nose. She was visiting a lad in Sha­are Zedek’s child­ren’s ward who had to get out of bed post-surgery, but refused. Perla whizzed around the bed, and in a rap­id-fire patter compl­ained loudly to the child about mothers, doct­ors, nurses and boys who didn't want to get up. Soon the boy was moving down the corridor in his wheel­chair, smiling.

In the intensive care ward, a 3-year-old girl was recovering from brain surgery. Perla had been told that the child needed stim­ulation before responding to the outside world. Placing her head on the bed next to the child’s face and singing a song, she tried to get the little girl to react. Throughout the morning she went back to the same child, each time eliciting a reaction. Perla Clown was bring­ing her energy.

Dressed in striped pants, col­ourful shirt, outsized floppy shoes, ridiculous hat and a red nose, Victor’s appearance was striking in the children’s wards Soroka Hospit­al Beer­sheba. He used a joking patter in various lan­guages to every­one he saw: doctors, secr­et­aries, clean­ers. A professional magic­ian, mime artist, story teller and com­edian, Vic­tor acknowledged that some of the chil­d­ren looked terrif­ied when he first entered but they were soon happily grinning. Vic­t­or also worked as a medical clown in Adi Negev, the rehabilit­at­ion village for severely disab­led children and adults. Being in ex­t­reme pain was not unusual, but since the terrorism, it had been much worse; refugee children had lost many family members.

Prof Sancho and teens at Emek Medical Centre Afula
Emek Medical Centre, Israel

A clown listened and tried to be open-minded and open-hearted, said medical clown Piccolo 42, who was also at Shaare Zedek Medical Cen­tre. His clowning wasn’t insane; the clowns were actually like an island of sanity. A patient thought that if a clown was here, life might be okay. If they let a clown into oper­ating rooms, it might be normal. The clown’s mere presence had an influence on the patients and on the staff.

Dream Doctors were all professional performers before going through the extensive training to become medical clowns. That exp­er­ience hel­ped them establish an instant rapport with patients, even in fr­ight­ening situations. One of the Dream Doctors’ projects was the Cl­­ownbulance, a specially outfitted colourful vehicle which prov­ided very sick children a chance to briefly escape their pain­ful hosp­it­al treat­ments. The child made a wish eg going to a football game, and Clownbulance made it happen.


Clown being used to treat dementia
YouTube

This was a very specific kind of training, said Dream Doctors Dir­ec­tor. In 2006, there were 25 people who earned acad­emic degrees in medical clowning from Haifa Uni. Recently a new acad­emic pr­o­gramme was launched at Assaf Harofeh Hospital, unlike in any other count­ry. And while Dream Doctors were salaried professionals, an Is­raeli NGO Medical Clown Association also took on c500 volunt­eers. After a year-long paid course, volunteers visited psych­ia­tric hospit­als, nursing homes, ref­ugee centres and hospit­als, usu­ally working in pairs. The volunt­eers dedicated themselves to uplifting people’s sp­irits in difficult situations, including supporting is­ol­ated peop­le at home.

Israel did­n’t invent the Medical Clown programme but the country became a gl­obal leader. To study the effectiveness of hosp­ital clowning, Dream Doctors estab­l­ished a scientific research fund to provide grants. So far there were 42+ medical stud­ies, 33 published in scient­ific journals. To assess fear of clowns, 1160 children in Carmel Medical Centre paediatric wards were tested. 14 children experienced fear of clowns (1.2%), mainly girls.

In normal times, Israel sent its IDF Medical Corps field hos­pitals around the world to provide medical care after earthquakes, floods and bombs. In addition to medical and rescue staff, the teams included therapeutic clowns who aided in communic­at­ion and offered trauma intervention techniques in missions to Ind­on­esia, Haiti and Jordan. Dream Doc­tors sent 20 teams in their most recent medical missions to the Ukraine, Poland and Moldova, wherever they were needed. Clowning is a universal language.

Reading Simchat Halev's history and photos is fun.

Huguenot silver: Paul de Lamarie 1730s

The first London coffee house was opened in 1652 by Pasqua Roseé, a member the English Levant Co. that traded with Turkey. In Smyrna-Izmir, he found a taste for the dark stim­ulant drink. With time, each British coffee house  developed its own partic­ul­ar clientele, literary, political, financial and shipping-related. From the coffee house came the Gentle­man’s Clubs and City instit­utions eg the in­sur­ance mar­ket Lloyds of London. King Charles II tried to close these meeting places down in 1675, but failed. In time, coffee was being consumed at home from silver and por­celain pots. It was usually served black and from long spouted ves­sels. There was also a fashion for taking it in the Turkish manner, with large quant­it­ies of sugar syrup used in the preparation. The short spout meant viscous liquid could flow freely.

de Lamerie

Sugar caster, 1732

Christie's

At a similar time in France, The Edict of Nantes (1598) had granted the Protestant Huguenots the right to practise their religion without persecution in Catholic France. But when these Protestants were finally exiled by King Louis XIV in 1685, they had to find safe homes in other countries. Superb Huguenot gold­­smiths set up business in London where aris­tocratic British patrons flock­ed to them.

Pierre Har­ache arrived in 1681 and Simon Pantin worked in Lon­don from 1682. After the 1685 ex­puls­ion, David Willaume & Daniel Garn­ier got papers in 1687, Augustine Courtauld arrived in 1688. John Chartier was in Lon­don by 1688 but didn’t ob­­tain denis­at­ion papers until 1697. Phillip Rollos was in the 1690 den­is­ation list. Louis Mett­ay­er was ap­prent­ic­ed in 1693; Pierre Platel arrived with William III in 1688, but ap­­peared with Louis Cuny in 1697 papers. Jacob & Samuel Margas were apprent­ic­ed 1699, Isaac Liger 1700 & Simon Pantin 1701; then the Arch­ambo and Tan­qu­er­ay families. I researched these beautiful men during a 3 years thesis, and will never forget them.

In their adopted country, the Huguenots rallied around to protect their silver industry. And they showed a sustained pre­ference for marry­ing and app­rent­ic­ing their child­ren into other French fam­il­ies. John Chartier married into the Garnier goldsmith family and his daughter married the goldsmith Peze’ Pilleau; Louis Mettayer’s sis­ter married David Wil­laume and his daught­er married Piere Har­ache; David Tanqueray was Willaume’s ap­pren­tice and later his son-in-law; Simon Pantin was apprent­iced to Piere Harache; Aug­ustine Court­auld was ap­prenticed to Simon Pantin; Edward Feline to Cour­­t­auld; John Le Sage to Louis Cuny; Louis Mett­ayer and Dav­id Tan­qu­er­ay were brothers in law of the engraver Simon Gribelin.

Royal appointments amongst silver artists, both locals and immig­r­ants, were vital. Englishmen George Garth­orne was roy­al Goldsmith to William III and Queen Anne; and Thomas Farren was a Subordinate Goldsmith to the King George I, 1723-42. From the Hug­uenot com­mun­ity, Phillip Rollos I was Subordinate Goldsmith to William III and to Queen Anne; his son Philip Rollos II succeeded as Sub­ord­in­ate Gold­­smith to Queen Anne; and John Le Sage became Sub­ord­inate Gold­smith to the King George.

de Lamerie's cup and cover, 1735
classical Huguenot lines and limited added decoration.

V&A Museum

So who was Paul de Lamerie (1688–1751)? He migrated to London as a small child with his par­ents as refugees. Paul de Lamerie was ap­pren­ticed to Pierre Platel in 1703, becoming free of his master in 1711 and quite young when he became goldsmith to the King from 1716. Paul’s success lay in his classical creativity eg wine cool­er, but also in his ability as a business­man 1730s-50s. A de Lam­erie silver gilt sugar caster, decor­ated with the royal coat of arms, is now at the Wor­shipful Co. of Gold­smiths.

Huguenot silver artists created severely sym­met­ri­c­al Queen Anne or­n­­ament in class­ical taste. It was said that it was not until de Lamerie in­troduced the double scroll handle in 1723 that the gen­eral effect was made much less formal and pond­er­ous. The broken scroll truly did have a softening effect, but it is not true that de Lamerie introduced this element in 1723. A series of cups by Rollos came out in the 1712-15 period, all displaying flam­boyant double harp hand­les cast with bead­ing and foliage, a style repeated by Samuel Marg­is in 1721. Pantin (1713) and Rain­aud (1715) both ut­il­ised more stol­id double harp shaped handles, while de Lamerie favoured the softer double scroll handle in 1720.

Elaborate cast mouldings revealed how de Lamerie, like other gold­smiths, was moving away from the simpler decoration favoured by the earlier Huguenot generation. They moved to the much more ornate Ro­coco style that be­came popular in London during the 1730s and 40s.

de Lamerie’s works have been valued above other Huguenot or English silver artists for a very long time, but I was keen to see the re­s­ults of  a de Lamerie auction. In July 2013 Christ­ie’s London presented a Rococo coffee pot 1738. The silver coffee-pot was creat­ed in the George II era, richly decor­at­ed with char­act­eristic Rococo motifs - bold scroll work, flowers and shells. (27 cm high). The cof­fee pot was commissioned by London-based trader, successful mer­ch­ant and Huguenot, Sir John Lequesne (1687-1741). Lequesne and his wife Mary Knight married in 1738, the very date of the coffee pot. So now the question is: who was Lequesne?

de Lamerie's coffee pot, 1738

curvy rococo lines and rich decorations
auctioned at Christie’s in London in 2013

sold for £3.5 million–£4.5 million.

As a child, Lequesne mov­ed to Britain as a refugee with his brot­her, flee­ing Rouen like many of his fellow Protestants. The Le­ques­ne brothers pros­pered, trading with the West Indies. John became an Alderman of the City, a dir­ect­or of the Bank of Eng­land and was knighted by King George II in 1737. A successful mar­riage, with a HUGE dowry, and an equally successful career enabled him thrive.

The new French Rococo style, the beautifully engraved Lequesne arms and owner­ship by a succ­ess­ful merchant perfectly embodied the vibrant C18th trade in London.

Lisbon's beautiful palace - Ajuda

When the old royal resid­ence in what is now Praça do Comércio on Lisbon's waterfront was destroyed by an earthquake in 1755, the Portuguese king decided that it was safer to live on a hill. The chosen location was Ajuda which had been less affected by the dis­aster. The palace's rebuilding was an expen­s­ive series of experiments. The 1755 quake dest­r­oyed most of Lisbon, incl­ud­ing the royal palace. So alth­ough the royal fam­ily survived, King José I decided that the new palace should be built on a hill in the Ajuda district of Lisbon.

Main entrance of Ajuda Palace

 

Visitors can visit this Palácio Nacional da Ajuda, the second home of the Port­ug­uese royal family. It was built as the Paço de Madeira/wood. But in 1794 a fire destroyed this second palace and the vast majority of its treasures. Whereas the original stone mat­er­ial of the palace was deadly in an earthquake, the wood of the new palace made it suscep­t­ible to fire. Construction of a stone palace began in 1796.

When Napoleon’s army invaded Portugal in 1807, the royal family fled to Brazil, reigning from that Portuguese colony for some years. They left Palácio Nacional da Ajuda to the best art­is­ts and sculptors then, to work on it in their absence. But when the royals returned to Lisb­on in 1821, the work was in­com­plete and many prefer­red that the country become a republic.

Thus the royal palace was no longer royal, and the neo-classical building was turned into a museum; it also occas­ion­ally hosted off­ic­ial cer­emon­ies, but generally open to the public. It has quite a sumptuous interior, with elaborate décor in several magnificent rooms. The high­lights are the a] Audience Room; b] Throne Room with its ceiling painted in 1825 representing a heavenly temple; c] Banquet Room for official di­n­n­ers; and d] King João IV Room covered with 1823 paint­ings, including a ceiling. The rooms incl­ude a great collect­ion of clocks and an intact dinner service.

Amidst political turmoil in 1833, building stopped! It was only in 1861 that construction works began again, vigorous­ly. The in­terior was renovated as the royal home in 1862, the year Port­ug­uese King Luís I married Princess Maria Pia of Savoy. Soon the palace was where the royals lived AND it was also where diplomatic banquets were held.

Visitors see a music room, stunning dining room, office, games room and an indoor garden room which once housed ex­otic birds and plants. Maria Pia was a very gifted artist and her works are displayed at the Palace. But at King Luís I’s death in 1889 the royal family became div­ided. The con­tinuing building of the palace was no longer a pr­iority. With the overthrow of the Portuguese monarchy and the declaration of the Portug­u­ese Republic in 1910, the pal­ace was shut down and for dec­ades was cl­osed to the public.

In 1996 some of the rooms were restored to their original glory: fine chandeliers, painted ceilings, carved furniture, his­toric portraits, ornate doors, price­less sculptures and luxur­ious tap­e­stries.

Today’s Palace is only a third of the size of the original plans; the entrance used today was actually designed as a side entrance. The in­tended main entrance was supposed to face the river so that passengers arriving to Lisbon by ship would see an enorm­ous palace with a grand entrance atop of Ajuda hill. Such a project would have completely ch­anged Lis­bon’s city­scape. It was meant to be one of the larg­est palaces in Europe, with gardens cascading down to the river.

The Music Room is on the ground floor, the private flats on the second while State Rooms occupy the upper floor. There are 1000+ treasur­es, spread over 11 small sections, on 3 levels. The high­lights are the wor­ld's second biggest gold nugg­et, a magnificent dinner set by famed sil­versmith François-Thomas Germain, a 1790s diamond-covered badge, and golden roses from Pope Gregory XVI (1842). As a museum, it gathers imp­or­t­ant collections of C18th-19th decorative arts: gold-silver works, textiles, furniture, ceramics, paintings, sculptures and photographs.

Im­portant State ceremonies held by the Rep­ub­lic’s President still occur. There are two museums, 1]Royal Treasure and 2] the Pal­ace itself. Both have unique pieces of Portuguese hist­ory, great paint­ings, furniture, tapestries, jew­el­lery, porcelains. There is inform­at­ion around the palace, telling the Portuguese royal fam­­il­y’s his­tory. The old ruined west­ern wing was completed in 2021 in modern st­yle to house the Royal Treasure Museum. After €31 mill­, it op­ened to the public June 2022, displaying precious crown jewels.

Audience Hall

Banquet Room

Throne Room

Ajuda Botanical Garden, designed by an Italian botanist, was laid out in 1768. It was Portugal’s first botanical garden, and while it has since lost many of its 5000 species of plants in the 1808 French invasion, the 1993 restorat­ion recr­ea­ted the original gar­d­en. It’s a shame that this fine building and art collection still need more Government investment.

Today the garden is a wonderful place to relax after exiting the Pa­l­ace. From all levels there’s a view of the river and 25 de Abril Bridge, including ancient shady trees and roaming pea­cocks. Some of the trees surround a beautiful C18th fountain adorned with myt­hol­og­ical figures, serpents and seahorses. Visit the garden indep­end­ent­ly from the palace.

Botanical Gardens

Read the very attractive blog: A Portuguese Affair.

Melbourne's amazing Chinatown

The discovery of gold in 1851 attracted Chinese imm­ig­ration to Vic­toria. Ships sailed to Australia from Hong Kong with their cargo of men who had come in search of the new gold fields. From 1853-5, thousands of Chinese disembarked here. Very few Chin­ese women came to Australia during this period so by 1861, 38,000+ Chinese largely men lived in the colonies. Thank you Chinese-Australian Historical Images

Little Bourke St, Melbourne

The burgeoning Chinese community in Little Bourke St pro­vided for all the diggers’ needs; lodging houses en route to the goldfields were quick­ly joined by merchants and provisions sh­ops, food, equipment and medicine. In the 1860s many Chinese dist­r­ict associations began to purchase land in Little Bourke St to build clubrooms which served as Chinese com­munity meeting places. From there business, social and clan networks spread out.

Chinatown experienced a growth stage from the early 1870s. As the diggings emptied, those who didn’t return to China went back to Me­l­­­bourne which pr­ovided their only community. They found work and es­tab­lished businesses to cater for the local Chinese and non Chin­ese markets. The 1880s saw booming industry in Marvellous Melbourne.

The new labour laws combined with the White Austral­ia Policy introduced in 1901 plunged Chinatown into darkness. It was no longer the residential haven for the Chinese, as the popul­at­ion declined along with business. When the government eased immig­ration laws in 1947 Chinatown revived itself again, spreading its population over Melbourne. As a result China­town remains an impor­t­ant social and economic centre for the Chinese Comm­unity and proudly stands as one of the City’s most popular venues.

Chinatown now extends along Little Bourke St between Swanston and Spring Sts. Its cabinet makers and lodging houses are long gone but eateries and top class restaurants now take their place with the streetscape and its low-rise brick buildings, retaining its historic character. Plus each year there are many traditional festivals, making Chinatown a popular city destination for local and inter­nat­ional visitors.

The Facing-Heaven Archway, Cohen Place

 
By the 1940s and 1950s the Chinatown area was looking endangered. From the 1950s, some of Melbourne's major depart­ment stores, which fronted Bourke St, expanded by taking up the whole block; many of the smaller buildings on one side of Little Bourke St were demolished. However in the 1960s, in a spirit of nostalgia and inspired by the tourist dollars that were being made in San Francisco's Chinatown, Chinatown entrep­ren­eur-City Councillor David Neng-Hsiang Wang persuaded the Melbourne City Council to embark on a radical redevelopment of the area, start­ing with archways constructed at the ends of Little Bourke Street. Emotional support from the Chinese community was mixed.

The refurbishment of the 5 key arches was an important statement of the City’s commitment to Chinatown. The arches have been restored to their former glory with added modern touches including red neon lighting on the columns. The arches clearly announce the entrance to Chinatown.

Melbourne’s Chinatown says it is the longest continuous Chinese settle­ment outside of Asia. Its essential character and main focus is along Little Bourke St, including the laneways and alleys which link the area to Bourke St and Lonsdale St. The heritage streetscape has been well preserv­ed, with few buildings reaching over three storeys in height. The area is dominated by restaurants from fine dining to laneway and arcade noodle houses, and is home to a number of Asian grocery stores, Ch­inese medicine and herbalist centres, bookst­ores, fashion shops and other retail outlets in arcades like Param­ount Plaza. This Ch­ina­town is truly cosmopolitan with cuis­ines including Thai, Jap­an­ese, Malaysian, Vietnamese and Contemporary Euro­pean.

Improving the streetscapes and atmosphere in Chinatown has been a prior­ity, including kerb widening, blue­stone paving, bright street lighting combined with neon signage, creating a distinctive night-time atmosphere. The refurbishment of Chinatown’s five key arches is an important state­ment of the City’s commitment to Chinatown. The tall, strik­ing and neon lit arches clearly welcome arrivals.

front of Chinese Museum of Australian History

Chinese Museum's collections

A magnificent archway was handmade in China according to trad­it­ional techniques and materials. It was shipped to Melbourne in pieces and assembled in Cohen Place under the supervision of highly skilled Chinese craftworkers. It’s the perfect backdrop for photo­graphs and the main entrance to Cohen Place, Chinatown Square and the Chinese Museum of Australian History in Cohen Place establish­ed. These redevelopments incor­po­r­ate greening, lan­tern lighting, rock sculptures and seats. The beautiful refurbish­ment of the Fac­ing Heaven archway is the great backdrop for photos.

Chinese Dragon Puppet Workshop

Tianjin Garden marks the eastern Spring St entrance of China-town. This is an important icon that was created by Tianjin & Melbourne designers, offering an area with water feat­ures, pavilion and seating space for office workers and visitors.