Archive for February, 2013

USS Monitor sailors to buried at Arlington

Monday, February 18th, 2013

Secretary of the Navy Ray Mabus announced last week that the remains of two sailors recovered from the wreck of the USS Monitor, the Civil War ironclad warship that was on the Union side in the first battle of ironclads in history, will be buried at Arlington National Cemetery on March 8th, the 151st anniversary of the famous battle. Navy and U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) representatives will pick up the remains from the military’s Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command (JPAC) in Hawaii and escort them to Virginia on March 7th. The next day’s burial ceremony with full military honors will take place at 4:00 PM. A horse-drawn caisson, a two-wheeled carriage used during the Civil War to carry artillery ammunition, will bear the caskets to their graves.

“These may very well be the last Navy personnel from the Civil War to be buried at Arlington,” said Mabus. “It’s important we honor these brave men and all they represent as we reflect upon the significant role Monitor and her crew had in setting the course for our modern Navy.”

The Monitor was the first ironclad warship made in the United States. It was a response to the news that the Confederacy had created a casemate ironclad over the hull of the former USS Merrimack, a steam-powered frigate that was docked at the Gosport Navy Yard in Virginia and had been half-assedly scuttled by Union forces as they evacuated after Virginia seceded. The Virginia and a flotilla of accompanying ships attempted to break the Union blockade by engaging the Union fleet at the Battle of Hampton Roads on March 8th, 1862. They were doing well, taking down several Union ships on the first day, but then they stopped on account of darkness. The second day the Monitor showed up and the two ironclads went head-to-head in an epic clash of iron titans.

They fought each other for three hours. The Virginia had 14 gun ports and fixed guns positioned in each, much like traditional wooden ships only with iron cladding. The entire ship had to be turned in order to fire. The Monitor, on the other hand, had the advantage of a revolutionary rotating gun turret that could hold two massive Dahlgren artillery guns and 14 men. There were no breaks to stop the turning, though, and the close quarters, muzzle-loading and heat of the guns meant that they couldn’t just rotate the turret and fire at will. They were able to get off one shot every five to eight minutes. Most of the shots were fired as the turret turned. Since these ships weren’t exactly fast movers, those strafing shots still made contact.

The final result was technically a draw. Both ships battered each other to a standstill and the Virginia withdrew. In strategic terms it was a win for the Union because they looked cool and because the blockade remained unbroken. The two ironclads met again on May 8th but did not engage, despite the Virginia‘s attempt to draw the Monitor out. Three days later, the Virginia was scuttled when Confederate forces withdrew from Norfolk.

On New Year’s Eve 1862, the Monitor sank in a storm off the coast of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. It was being towed by the USS Rhode Island at the time, but its iron cladding and top-heavy turret made it particularly susceptible to rough ocean waters. Most of the 62 crewmen were rescued by the Rhode Island, but 16 went down with the ship.

The wreck discovered on the Atlantic floor in August 1973. As attempts to raise the entire ship were deemed too likely to damage the wreck and too expensive, the site was named a National Marine Sanctuary and later a National Historic Landmark to protect it from treasure hunters and coastal traffic. Parts of it have been raised, however: the propeller in 1998, the steam engine in 2001 and on August 5, 2002, a team of Navy divers and NOAA experts, raised the 150-ton revolving gun turret.

During the 41 day lead-up to the recovery of the turret, divers found the remains of two sailors, one on top of the other, who had been trapped inside the turret when the ship capsized and sank. The turret was found inverted with the crewmen buried under coal, debris and two Dahlgren guns 13.5 feet long. Despite 140 years spent under water and the rough circumstances of their demise, the sailors’ skeletons were almost complete.

In the attempt to identify the crewmen, JPAC experts were able to extract DNA and discover a number of personal details. One was about 35 years of age and walked with a limp. He wore a gold ring and had a notch in his teeth indicating that he smoked a pipe. The other was about 21 years old and had broken his nose at some point. He wore mismatched shoes. JPAC was unable to pinpoint who the two men are, although the names of the 16 sailors who lost their lives aboard the Monitor are known and there are a number of pictures taken of the ship and crew. The DNA did not match any of the known descendants and family members of the Monitor crew.

Last year, the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Hampton Roads, facial reconstructions made from the molds of the skulls were publicized in the hope that somebody might have some old family pictures that identified the men. It was a long shot, and unfortunately no information was discovered.

The three most likely candidates are Jacob Nicklis, Robert Williams and William Bryan. The reconstructed face of the older sailor does bear a resemblance to Williams, the 30-year-old Welsh-born first-class fireman of the Monitor, but they weren’t able to confirm the identification. In the picture at right left, Robert Williams is the strapping mustachioed fellow in the hat standing with his arms crossed on the right just behind the guys playing checkers.

JPAC will continue to try to identify the sailors, but it’s been more than a decade since they were recovered from the ocean floor and the Navy believes it’s time to bury their remains.

Artifacts from the wreck site will continue to be recovered. The wreck, like many other iron ships, has become unstable and is in danger of imminent collapse. The NOAA wants to make every effort to save belongings of the crew and any parts of the ship they can over the next few decades before they decay. Past and future artifacts recovered from the wreck are conserved and displayed at the USS Monitor Center at the Mariners’ Museum in Newport News, Virginia, which also has a nifty full-sized replica of the Monitor outside the entrance which you can visit.


1540s Maiolica plate found hanging on cottage wall

Sunday, February 17th, 2013

A woman in Somerset, England, discovered she had a rare Italian Renaissance Maiolica plate hanging on the wall of her cottage when she invited appraiser Richard Bromell of Charterhouse Auctioneers in Sherborne, Dorset, to assess some of the objects in her home for their market value. It was hanging in a makeshift wire frame behind a door that was always open. Only about two inches of it were visible when Bromwell caught a glimpse of it.

At first he thought it had to be a 19th century reproduction worth perhaps £2,000 ($3,100), but when he took it to experts at the Ashmolean Museum they confirmed that it was the real thing: a Maiolica charger made in Urbino around 1540. The owner had inherited it from a relative years ago and had no idea of its age or value. It was put up for auction at Charterhouse on February 14th with a pre-sale estimate of £100,000 ($155,000), but due to massive interest from bidders all over Europe and the US, the final hammer price was an astonishing £567,000 ($880,000).

It’s the condition and quality of the painting that made the market salivate. The dish is nearly 500 years old, but the colors are still brilliant and the finish glossy. The only damage was a repaired chip about 1.4 inches wide on the bottom of the charger. It’s barely noticeable and doesn’t overlap with any of the figures, just with the yellow border and a green scribble of grass.

The plate is 16 inches in diameter and painted in a style called istoriato, an elaborate, highly detailed scene from history or legend. The subject on this piece is the Feast of Herod, although it takes a little looking to see it. Herod and his wife sit at a table under the columned portico in the left background. Walking up the steps towards them is Salome and some ladies carrying the head of John the Baptist on a platter. In the center background between the upper tree trunk on the left and the riverbank on the right is the executioner standing next to John’s headless body.

The rest of the scene is populated by wealthy revelers banqueting front and center, musicians to the left of them, ladies dancing to the left of the musicians, skinny dippers in the river on the right and a townscape in the back. It’s a big ol’ Renaissance party that could be set in any hilly town in Europe. One extra special touch is a hint of what may be the painter’s name hidden in the fur stole of the woman sitting on the right side of the central foreground banqueting table.

The design is a version of The Feast of Herod, a woodcut by German printmaker Sebald Beham dating to 1525-1545. The maiolica version leaves out the figure of death of holding a scythe who follows a couple walking just beneath Salome and John’s head. The architecture and overall scene is compressed to fit onto a plate, but other than those changes and the marvelous addition of color, it’s a faithful rendition.

No wonder that it claimed one of the highest prices ever paid for Italian pottery. The lucky buyer was London jewelery dealer S.J. Phillips Ltd. Company director Francis Norton said: “The plate is in wonderful condition and we really fancied it and were determined to get it. We don’t know what we’ll do with it yet but we might put it on display.”


Vermeer’s Woman in Blue at the Getty

Saturday, February 16th, 2013

Johannes Vermeer’s masterpiece Woman in Blue Reading a Letter that was restored to its original beauty before going on a tour of Asia last year has touched down in the United States. From February 16th to March 31st, it will be on display at the Getty Center in Los Angeles, its only stop in North America before it returns to the Rijksmuseum in time for the museum’s grand reopening on April 13th.

“This truly represents an extraordinary opportunity for Southern California,” explains Timothy Potts, director of the J. Paul Getty Museum. “Vermeer’s Woman in Blue is one of his greatest and most famous masterpieces. It has very rarely traveled outside of Amsterdam and this is the painting’s first visit to the West Coast. Vermeer’s paintings of women reading letters and engaged in other private, domestic activities have a unique intimacy and reality to them that can only be fully appreciated in the flesh. His finest works, like the Woman in Blue, have a magical immediacy that has never been rivaled.”

Taking advantage of the rare presence of such a great example of an interior subject from the Dutch Golden Age, the museum is exhibiting a number of other pieces along with the Vermeer which focus on people engaged in private moments inside the home. Works from the Getty’s permanent collection include Gerard ter Borch’s Music Lesson, Jan Steen’s Drawing Lesson, Pieter de Hooch’s Woman Preparing Bread and Butter for a Boy, and Frans van Mieris’s The Doctor’s Visit. An additional piece, An Elegant Lady Writing at Her Desk with a Dog beside Her, has been loaned for the exhibition from a private collection in New York. I love the geometry in Hooch’s painting and I can’t help but wonder what the doctor is peering at in his balloon flask in the Mieris work.

This is a great time to be on the West Coast if you’re a fan of Vermeer and other Dutch masters. The de Young Museum in San Francisco is currently hosting what is probably Vermeer’s most famous work, Girl with a Pearl Earring, as part of an exhibition of 35 important paintings from the Royal Cabinet of Paintings Mauritshuis in The Hague. Girl with a Pearl Earring: Dutch Paintings from the Mauritshuis features 35 important works by Dutch Golden Age masters like Vermeer, Rembrandt and Jan Steen. A companion exhibit at the de Young, Rembrandt’s Century, will be centered on Rembrandt’s etchings and those of other artists who preceded and followed him.

Girl and friends will travel to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta next, where they will be on exhibit from June 22, 2013 to September 29, 2013. The last stop before they return to the Netherlands will be Frick Collection in New York City. You can catch them there from October 22, 2013 to January 12, 2014.

Again we have a major renovation to thank for this artistic bounty. The Mauritshuis is also closed right now while the space is being renovated and expanded. It will remain closed until mid-2014 after which it will have a grand reopening of its own.


The last Medici, savior of Florence’s art, exhumed

Friday, February 15th, 2013

Anna Maria Luisa de’ Medici, only daughter of Cosimo III de’ Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany, and wife of Johann Wilhelm II, Elector Palatine, died on February 18th, 1743, at the age of 75. Historical accounts describe it variously as a long, painful death, a sudden fever or an “oppression on the breast.” The culprit was long thought to have been the syphilis her husband infected her with shortly after their marriage, a disease which was also said to be the cause of their childlessness. Another possible candidate was breast cancer.

Last October, the Electress Palatine was exhumed from her crypt in the Basilica of San Lorenzo as part of a collaborative research project by the University of Florence and the Reiss Engelhorn Museum in Mannheim, Germany. A tent was raised around her bones which remained in situ for a week while researchers took pictures and made a 3D scan of the skeleton. Two medallions were removed from the coffin for restoration and a sample of bone was taken for further laboratory analysis. The body was then reinterred. Because we live in an amazing era, the scans allowed the researchers to create an exact replica of the skeleton, including the crown she was still wearing, using a 3D printer.

The bone sample and material recovered from a pot found in the coffin which is believed to have contained her entrails in keeping with a traditional Medici burial practice, are being DNA tested by biological anthropologist Albert Zink of the European Academy of Bolzano, who also worked on the team who sequenced the genome of Otzi the Iceman.

Anna Maria Luisa’s skeleton “does not indicate late-stage syphilis, which is characterized by skull remodelling and bone outgrowth”, says Zink. But, he adds, it does not rule out earlier stages of the disease, which can in some cases result in organ failure and death.

Anna Maria’s husband died in 1716 when he was 58 and she was 48. Any syphilis she may have contracted from him would have been very far advanced indeed by the time of her death.

“Full DNA-sequence information may allow us to identify any susceptibility genes for breast cancer,” [Zink] says, “but we don’t yet know if the sample is of sufficient quality for this since the tomb environment had been very damp.”

It’s not surprising that the tomb would be damp given that the 1966 flood of the Arno River that drenched Florence in as much as 22 feet of mud and water also swamped the Medici tombs in San Lorenzo. It is surprising that despite the flood, the Electress’ skeleton was found mainly intact and articulated.

Scientists were also surprised to find that Anna Maria was buried with the crown of the Palatinate, not one of the Medici crowns. It’s a testament to the connection she felt to her title, which she used consistently until her death, and to her long-deceased husband. They reputedly had an amicable relationship, STDs or no STDs, and shared a passion for art and culture that made the court of the Palatinate a magnet for musicians, painters, architects.

That passion for art led Anna Maria to the act that would define her legacy and that of her illustrious family in the city they had ruled for 300 years. As the last of the Medici, it was up to her to save the cultural patrimony of the city which was in mortal danger of dispersal.

The question of the succession of the Grand Duchy had been her father Cosimo III’s obsession for years before his death in 1723. Anna Maria’s eldest brother Ferdinando died childless of syphilis in 1713. The youngest brother Gian Gastone hated his wife, generally preferred the company of his male favorites, and was unlikely to produce an heir. Seeing the writing on the wall, Cosimo was frantic to find a way to keep the Grand Duchy in Medici hands. It was technically a fiefdom of the Holy Roman Empire and Joseph I was keen to take control of it. To no avail, Cosimo tried to force Gian Gastone to get back together with his detested wife and impregnate her. By 1709, Cosimo was so desperate he made his brother Cardinal Francesco Maria de’ Medici renounce his vows and marry Eleanor of Gonzaga. Francesco Maria died childless in 1711.

He then tried to reinstate the Republic of Tuscany which had died with the creation of the Grand Duchy in 1533. He actually got the Holy Roman Emperor to agree to the plan, but then he torpedoed the agreement by changing the terms so that Anna Maria would inherit the Grand Duchy first and the Republic reinstated only after her death. Charles VI was Holy Roman Emperor by this time, and when Cosimo promulgated a decree through the Tuscan senate that the Electress would inherit should Gian Gastone pre-decease her, Charles was furious. He felt that Cosimo was trying to abrogate his rights to determine succession.

Cosimo was no longer given a say in the fate of the Grand Duchy after that. He tried to get the European powers to acknowledge Anna Maria as heir, but he failed. In the end, they determined that if Gian Gastone died childless, the Grand Duchy would go directly to the Austrian House of Lorraine. Anna Maria was out.

She was not going to be ignored, however. She was still the heir to her younger brother’s allodial title, meaning all the property owned by the family independent of the fiefdom of the Grand Duchy. When Gian Gastone died of a variety of diseases in July 1737, Anna Maria inherited a bunch of cash, the Duchy of Urbino, the family regalia, the contents of many palaces and one of the greatest collections of art ever known to man. The Lorrainers immediately made it clear that they had zero respect for the Medici patrimony except insofar as it could be converted to ready cash. They auctioned off furniture from Medici palaces in the Palazzo Vecchio, melted down silver objects from the Pitti Palace for coin and threatened Anna Maria with physical harm if she didn’t turn over her internationally famous jewelry collection so they could sell the stones.

Under this kind of pressure from the avaricious House of Lorraine, within a month of her brother’s death the formidable Anna Maria already had a draft drawn up of what would become known as the Family Pact. By the terms of this contract, the Medici possessions including “all furniture, effects and rarities” including “galleries, paintings, statues, libraries, jewels and other precious things such as holy relics” would be bequeathed to the new Grand Duke, Francis Stephen of Lorraine, husband of Maria Teresa of Austria and father of Marie Antoinette of France, and to his heirs only on condition that none of said possessions ever be removed from the capital and the Grand Duchy. They were to stay forever exactly where they were so they could “remain ornament of the state, for the use of the Public and to attract the curiosity of foreigners.” Grand Duke Francis Stephen agreed to the terms and the pact was signed in October 1737.

By this act, Anna Maria single-handedly saved the immense cultural heritage of Florence from succumbing to the fate of other Italian ducal estates that had been absorbed by European Powers. Mantua, for instance, was stripped bare when the Gonzaga line died out in 1627. The Gonzaga art collection was sold in its entirety to Charles I of England, and what was left was taken by the Habsurgs when the last Grand Duke of the French Gonzaga branch died in 1708. In 1731, the same fate befell the Duchy of Parma with the demise of the Farnese family. Three years after the death of the last Farnese duke, the ducal art collections were removed from the family palaces and shipped to the House of Bourbon rulers in Naples.

This would surely have happened to Florence as well if not for Anna Maria’s badassness. The vast majority of what is now in the Uffizi Gallery, Pitti Palace, Palazzo Vecchio, the Laurenziana library, Magliabecchiana library, Palatine library, a large chunk of the Bargello and everything in the smaller suburban Medici villas would be gone. Florence as we know it today would not exist. Think of how prescient Anna Maria was to recognize the value of her family holdings to city tourism. Mantua and Parma are lovely towns rich in history, but there is no comparison between them and Florence when it comes to tourist appeal. People go to Italy just to see Florence, and it’s not because of ruins or monuments like with Rome because the city doesn’t have many of those. They go to see the art. That’s Anna Maria’s doing.

Monday marks the 270th anniversary of her death. In her honor, Florence will hold celebrations of her life and legacy and Italy is releasing a stamp of a portrait of Anna Maria made by Antonio Franchi in the late 1600s and now in the Palazzo Pitti. The Reiss Engelhorn Museum is joining in the celebrations with a new exhibit dedicated to the Medici. The Medici – People, Power and Passion opens on February 17th and covers the family history from the founder Giovanni di Bicci until the Electress. She gets particular attention as the results of the exhumation study will be part of the exhibit.


The Little French Renaissance Book of Love

Thursday, February 14th, 2013

A recent addition to the British Library’s most excellent collection of digitized manuscripts is a valentine that puts contemporary efforts to shame. Written by Pierre Sala around 1500, the Petit Livre d’Amour (Little Book of Love) is a 5-inch by 3.7-inch book of poems and prose that he hand-wrote with gold ink on purple parchment and had professionally illuminated as a gift for his lover Marguerite Builloud. He even had a wood and leather carrying case made with rings on the edges so his lady love could hang it from a chain on her girdle.

Pierre Sala was a renown humanist, author, cook, personal valet and equerry to King Louis XII. Born and raised in Lyon, a center of the French Renaissance, his writings are important transitional works in the shift from the scriptural, patristic approach to scholarship of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance revival of classical philosophy and secular sources of knowledge. He wrote about the lives of Greek philosophers, collections of ancient aphorisms, histories, treatises and of course, romances and poetry.

He was also something of an accidental archaeologist and antiquities collector. When he built his house on the hill of Fourvière in the center of Lyons in 1514, he unearthed a large number of Franco-Roman remains from when the city was known as Lugdunum. This collection was so impressive the king came to visit it like a tourist in 1522. Pierre even named the house Antiquaille after them.

By then, he had sealed the deal with Marguerite. Perhaps this book helped. It is replete with references to the two of them. M and P are carved into the stylized floral pattern on the wooden cover. Their initials, drawn out of crossed compasses, decorate the pages like in a middle schooler’s Trapper Keeper. (I am aware I just seriously dated myself there). The poems and illustrations are all about love, of course, but not necessary mushy expressions thereof. The alternative name of the volume is “The Enigmas of Love” and the hardships of love, the obstacles, the dangers, are the dominant theme of the 12 drawings and the quatrains they illustrate.

Pierre starts off telling Marguerite that he wants to put his heart inside this daisy (Marguerite meaning daisy in French), that his thoughts will always be with her. The drawing opposite depicts a man putting his heart into daisy. His facial features are very basic, deliberately left so by the illustrator, a Parisian artist known as the Master of the Chronique scandaleuse, so another artist could fill in the details to make him look like Pierre. That artist was probably Jean Perréal, a painter in the employ of the French royal family who was a personal friend of Pierre’s. Perréal never did in fill the face, but he went on to make the rather dreamy portrait of Pierre at the end of the book.

The daisy allegory is followed by a man playing blind man’s bluff with three ladies, with the accompanying poem expressing his hope that if he can catch at least one of them, she won’t escape for a year. The next poem urges caution in Italian but recommends he not despair even though there are no assurances. The drawing across from it is of a solitary table with a candle burning on top.

The cautionary tales and juxtapositions — a wise man painting a fool, a pilgrim and a beggar illustrating the proverb “don’t limp in front of a lame person,” a man carrying a man on his shoulders while trampling another man on the ground illustrating the proverb “trampling on one man to help another” — continue through to the end.

My favorite is two women trying to catch flying hearts with a net. The quatrain describes the ladies as Friendly Expression and Courteous Manner who have stretched out their net to trap the unstable hearts that pass by. The best thing about that is the poem doesn’t spell out the word “heart.” It’s a little <3 drawing, a Renaissance emoticon! We don't know if she ever wore it like a hipster chain wallet, but Marguerite must have liked it, or at least not hated it too much, because she and Pierre were married and lived together at Antiquaille until his death in 1529.


“Ape Woman” gets decent burial 153 years later

Wednesday, February 13th, 2013

Julia Pastrana was born in Sinaloa, Mexico, in 1834, with two congenital diseases that would be her fortune and her curse. Generalized hypertrichosis lanuginosa caused her face and body to be covered in long, straight, thick black hair, her jaw to jut out and her ears and nose to be disproportionately large; gingival hyperplasia thickened her lips and gums.

The circumstances of her childhood are unclear, muddled by later promotional legends. According to A Cabinet of Medical Curiosities a book by Dr. Jan Bondeson whose cover Julia graces, she was found in a cave when she was two years old being cared for by a so-called root-digging Indian named Espinosa who insisted the child was not hers. She did love her, though, and raised her until her death. When Espinosa died, the governor of Sinaloa took Julia on as a servant. It wasn’t charity that inspired his actions; he wanted to study her as a medical curiosity.

Tired of being mistreated, Julia left his employ in 1854. According to some sources she was bought as a circus sideshow — slavery was illegal but circus exhibits were still bought and sold — by a Mexican customs agent who took her to the United States. American impresario M. Rates claimed he found her in Mexico and convinced her to go on the sideshow circuit in North America. He exhibited her as the “Marvelous Hybrid or Bear Woman” and she was a sensation. Doctors examined her, declaring her a human-orangutan hybrid and a new species of animal altogether.

She had a lovely soprano voice and a petite figure (she was just four feet, five inches tall) with tiny hands and feet. She was a nimble and graceful dancer. Her singing and dancing were often mentioned in surprised tones for their quality and elegance. Her mind was also far from brutish. She spoke three languages and was by all accounts a kind, warm, intelligent person, an excellent conversationalist and a generous donor to charitable causes. She was also punctilious about her appearance. It may have been monetized by its association with beasts of the wild, but she always made sure her hair was elaborately coiffed and her dresses pretty and feminine albeit very short for Victorian sensibilities.

In New York she met a Theodore Lent. He married her and became her manager, doubtless the former was a means to secure the latter. He brought her to Europe where she was a great success. Lent made sure she had very little in the way of society, despite her yearning for friends and affection, out of fear that if people knew she was a gentle, well-read, fully human woman, her shows wouldn’t sell as well.

She got pregnant during the European tour. They were in Moscow in 1860 when she went into labour. Her son Theodore was born with hypertrichosis and only lived 35 hours. Julia died from a birth-related fever a few days later. Her last words were reportedly “I die happy; I know I have been loved for myself.”

Unfortunately, her husband put the lie to those sad final words. He showed his true disgusting colors after the death of his wife and child by either selling their bodies to a Russian anatomy professor for £500 and then buying them back for £800 after they were embalmed when he realized he could still profit off of them, or by having them embalmed and taking them on the road. He nailed the feet of his wife and little baby to boards with poles so they could be displayed standing up. Then he married a bearded lady whom he named Zenora Pastrana and billed her as Julia’s sister. He and his new wife traveled Europe on exhibit next to the corpses of his dead wife and child.

In 1921, Julia and little Theodore’s bodies were purchased by Earl Jaeger Lund, a Norwegian show promoter who put them on display at his amusement park and on tours until the 1970s. Finally in 1972 there was enough of an outcry about this horrendous spectacle that the remains were put in storage at the Oslo fairground. They saw even more mistreatment out of the public eye. Vandals broke in and damaged Julia’s body in 1976, and threw the baby’s body into a ditch where it was devoured by mice. In 1979, Julia’s body was stolen only to be recovered shortly thereafter in a suburban garbage dump, her arm severed.

After it was recovered, Julia’s body was moved to the Institute of Forensic Medicine at the Oslo University Hospital where it remained in storage from 1997 until now.

In 2005, Mexican artist Laura Anderson Barbata, then in Oslo for a residency, began to campaign for Julia Pastrana’s body to be returned to Mexico for the proper Catholic burial that had so long been denied her. It took years before she got some attention, but in 2008 she submitted paperwork in favor of Julia’s repatriation to Norway’s National Committee for the Evaluation of Research on Human Remains. Last year the committee admitted that it was unlikely Julia Pastrana would have wanted to end up a specimen.

There were still some hoops to jump through. The University was amenable to returning the body, but they weren’t comfortable just handing her over to Laura Barbata because she was the only one who had asked.

A breakthrough came after the current governor of Sinaloa, Mario López Valdez, joined Ms. Barbata’s cause last year and petitioned for Pastrana’s repatriation. The Mexican ambassador to Denmark, Norway and Iceland, Martha Bárcena Coqui, offered to work with the university to accept the body.

“We understood that she must have suffered enormously during her lifetime and that her remains did not receive the respect they deserved for many years,” Ms. Coqui said by e-mail.

The institute agreed to begin the process of transferring Ms. Pastrana to Mexican custody last August.

Last Thursday, Barbata confirmed Julia’s identity before her body was sealed in a coffin. On Tuesday, Julia’s mortal remains were finally laid to rest in a cemetery in Sinaloa de Leyva. It’s touching to see crowds of people attending her funeral and her white coffin covered with flowers. Her last show was finally worthy of the person she was.


Louis I of Orléans found in The Agony in the Garden

Tuesday, February 12th, 2013

Conservators at Madrid’s Prado Museum have uncovered a rare portrait of Louis I, Duke of Orléans, son of Charles V of France and brother of Charles VI, hidden under overpaint in The Agony in the Garden, a 15th-century French painting depicting Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane while Peter, John and James slumber. The museum first encountered the work in February of 2011, when the private owner offered it to the Prado for study and potential acquisition. The lab gave it the full analytical monty: ultraviolet photography, X-rays, Infra-red reflectography, tests on the pigments and the panel.

They found that the painting was an extremely high quality piece. The pigments contain large amounts of expensive lapis lazuli painted on a Baltic oak panel. Tree ring analysis of the oak indicated the tree was felled in 1382. The X-rays and Infra-red reflectography revealed the artist had painted two figures on the bottom left which were later painted over with a thick layer of brown. The standing figure is clearly a saint, identified by the lamb at her feet as Saint Agnes. At her feet, a male figure kneels holding a scroll and looking at the scene in the garden. The man is dressed in sumptuous clothes that were fashionable around 1400. According to painterly convention, his posture and position indicates that he was included in the painting because he or his family commissioned the work.

Conservators could not identify the kneeling figure from the X-rays. The pattern on his sleeves was a likely clue — they could be a family emblem — but it wasn’t clear what they were. Saint Agnes was another clue. She takes a protective posture in the painting so could be the patron saint of the man kneeling in front of her. Researchers looked for someone in the upper ranks of French nobility with a connection to Saint Agnes and Louis of Orléans came up. Agnes was the patron saint both of his father King Charles V, to whom he was devoted, and of his wife Valentina Visconti, daughter of the Duke of Milan.

There are only three extant portraits of Louis, all of them manuscript illuminations. If the Donor could be confirmed as Louis of Orléans, this painting would be the only one of him ever found. Restorers decided to attempt to remove the overpainting to reveal the figure if it could be accomplished without damaging the original paint. The top layer was a natural resin varnish, easily removed using a light solvent. There were two layers of overpainting, the most recent applied in the 19th century or later. The overpainting was separated from the original paint by an isolating layer of varnish, but because the original paint is a very fragile egg tempera, it was too risky to use any solvents. Instead, restorers removed the overpaint with scalpel, looking through a stereoscopic microscope at the highest magnification so they could identify non-original pigment not visible to the naked eye.

Once liberated from their brown prison, the figures were revealed in all their brilliant glory. The colors were far brighter and richer than the colors on the saints and Jesus. The Donor’s scroll was found to be inscribed with the first words of the Psalm 50, aka the Miserere mei. The decorations on the sleeves turned out to be gold nettle leaves and they looked like appliqué rather than a fabric print.

The nettles were the key to the identification of Louis of Orléans. The nettle leaf was one of the duke’s emblems, one he particularly favored from 1399 until his death in 1407. Inventories of his possessions have survived and the 1403 inventory list “LXV feuilles d’or en façon d’orties,” meaning 65 gold leaves in the shape of nettles. He would have used these to decorate his clothes, like the dramatic fur-lined batwing houppelande the Donor wears in the painting.

Comparisons with the manuscript depictions of Louis support the identification. The distinctive nose and chin are similar in all the images, but his bald pate is only visible in the painting because Louis wears a hat in all three illuminations. He can’t wear a hat in Gethsemane, however, because he’s in the presence of God, Father and Son, no less. That makes this portrait even more remarkable.

Once Louis’ identity was pinned down, researchers were able to extrapolate from that the possible artist. There are very few surviving panel paintings from this period, and the style and quality of this one is unique so there is no means to devise attribution by comparing techniques. Louis of Orléans had painter in his household. Colart de Laon worked as a painter and as personal valet to the duke from 1391 until Louis’ death. He then did the same work for Louis’ son Charles until 1411. Contemporary sources praise him as one of the most significant artist of the day, but none of his work has been known to survive.

This painting is a small piece, probably intended for a use in a private chapel rather than a large church. The Gethsemane theme and the Miserere mei were usually included in funerary artworks, and since Louis’ family is not included in the panel, it’s likely that it was commissioned by his wife or son after his assassination.

Louis I, Duke of Orléans, Count of Valois, Duke of Touraine, Count of Blois, Angoulême, Périgord, Dreux, and Soissons, regent of France when his older brother Charles VI, aka Charles the Mad, went insane, was assassinated by his cousin and co-regent John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy. John’s courage against Ottoman forces in the Battle of Nicopolis (1396) earned him his nickname and his bullheaded vanity helped ensure his side was utterly routed. You can read all about it in one of my favorite books of all time, Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century. Many of these events are covered in Book IV of Jean Froissart’s Chronicles, which sadly I cannot find for free online, but here’s a full version available for 90 cents.

The Prado decided to purchase the painting, needless to say. They cleaned the entire thing, removing the overpaint that had darkened and dulled the rest of the figures and revealing the original brilliant color. The Agony in the Garden is now on display in Room 58A of the Villanueva Building. For more about the painting and restoration, watch these subtitled videos on the Prado’s website.


Sir James Tillie’s body IS in Sir James Tillie’s tomb

Monday, February 11th, 2013

The archaeological investigation of Sir James Tillie’s mausoleum on the grounds of Pentillie Castle, the estate he built in Cornwall in 1698, has revealed the skeletal remains of a man in the vault underneath the current floor of the turret structure. Although there are no plans to remove the bones for laboratory analysis and DNA testing, the context strongly suggests these are the mortal remains of Sir James Tillie. As Ted Coryton, current owner of Pentillie Castle, says: “There is not really any doubt about who the remains belong to.”

That’s because Sir James’ final wishes in regards to the disposition of his body were eccentric, to say the least, and the odds of anyone else getting buried in the folly of a private estate in the hundred or so years between his death and the modifications to the mausoleum are slim to none.

Sir James Tillie was a self-made man who, as far as we can discern from the many lies he told about himself, went from Baronet Sir John Coryton’s land agent to knight to husband of Sir John’s widow and owner of the estate he once managed. (It was rumored that that last step was accomplished with the aid of poison.) His meteoric rise was accompanied with a very high self-opinion, so high, in fact, that he believed not even death could keep him down for long.

He had a folly built on Mount Ararat, the highest hill on his estate with beautiful views of his mansion and the hairpin bend of the River Tamar. Instead of being interred in the tower, Sir James ordered that his body was to be dressed in his best clothes and bound to a large chair facing a window. He died on November 17th, 1713, and his servants fulfilled his wishes. There he would sit, next to his favorite books, a bottle of port and his pipe, until his resurrection which he was convinced would occur within two years of his death.

For two years, his servants brought his decaying body food and drink, but when the expected resurrection event never happened, they decided they had to inter Sir James’ remains instead of letting him sit there, exposed to the elements, rotting until the bonds could no longer hold him to the chair. He was buried and a statue of Sir James in his chair was placed at the same window where his body has sat watch for two years.

No specific evidence of where the remains were buried has survived. He might have been buried in the parish church of St. Mellion, the traditional resting place of the Coryton family, or in another parish church. He might have been buried in the mausoleum. No headstone or documentation of his final resting place has ever been found.

The estate remained in Tillie hands for three generations after Sir James’ death, and then returned through marriage to the Coryton family. They appear to have modified the mausoleum during an expansion of the estate in 1810. That was the last time it was maintained, and although the estate in general survived in decent condition until a neglectful shut-in owner let it go to pot in the late 20th century, the mausoleum did not. It was crumbling, structurally unsound, choked with ivy and weeds.

When Ted Coryton and his wife inherited the property in 2007, they initiated an extensive program of restoration. Once the main house was in tip-top shape, they turned their attention to the gardens and to the mausoleum. With grants from Natural England and the Country Houses Foundation, last year the mausoleum was finally able to get some attention. The statue was sent to Cliveden Conservation in Bath for restoration while back at the folly conservators cleared the vegetation, did some long overdue mortar pointing and rebuilding of the walls, repaired cracks and rebuilt the tower crenellations.

In order to accomplish all the work that needed doing, they had to stabilize the floor so they could build scaffolding. In October of last year, builders dug an exploratory hole in the floor and found a brick vaulted roof underneath the granite slabs. This was probably a function of the addition built in the early 19th century which made the original first floor into the ground floor to accommodate a new plinth.

Archaeologist Oliver Jessop explored the vaulted area and found that it was structurally sound, lined with plaster with the brick vaulted ceiling in excellent condition. He also found a human skeleton and the remains of a wooden object covered with leather and studs. It’s not clear exactly what this piece was, but its age and style suggest that it might be an early 18th century chair, perhaps the very one Sir James’ sat in awaiting his resurrection.

Pictures of the remains have not been released out of respect for what turned out to be Sir James’ final resting place despite his belief in his own immortality. The Coryton plans to publish more information about the mausoleum restoration. If you have a chance to visit Pentillie Castle in person, the estate is holding Garden Open Days in March, April and May. A member of the family will lead groups on tours through the grounds, including the newly restored kitchen garden which until recently was a mass of brambles, and share first-hand information about the restoration. The mausoleum won’t yet be available for tours at that point as work is ongoing, but visitors will get to hear all the juicy history they’ve uncovered thus far in the process.


Men jailed for theft of Qing artifacts from museum

Sunday, February 10th, 2013

Just in time for Lunar New Year, two men have been sentenced to lengthy prison terms for the theft of two Qing Dynasty artifacts worth a combined $3.2 million from the Durham University Oriental Museum last April. Lee Wildman and Adrian Stanton admitted to having plotted to break in to the museum, but they claimed they never went through it. On the witness stand, they testified that they met some unnamed “Northern men” in a silver Mercedes at a parking lot. These men commissioned them to steal any Chinese artifacts they could get their hands on, the older the better, but after casing the museum Wildman and Stanton backed out of the deal and instead only agreed to provide the mysterious northerners with stolen vehicles.

Judge Christopher Prince did not find their statements credible. In fact, he put it rather more baldly: “I have been struck over two days of this hearing over the amount of disingenuous lies told by the two defendants. I have not heard so many lies from the witness box for a very long time.”

Considering the evidence against them, it certainly was a brazen defense. There’s CCTV footage of Wildman and Stanton at the museum on March 29th. They make a beeline for the Chinese gallery and examined the display cabinets, testing the locks in preparation for their return. Wildman claimed that this was their sole attempt to burglarize the place, that they were thwarted when the museum staff made them check their backpacks and that when they returned empty-handed to the silver Mercedes, the Northerners were angry that had failed to steal anything. In broad daylight. With their faces clearly visible to the cameras. And security guards and museum visitors milling around. Because apparently these Mercedes guys were super keen on the worst burglary plan in the world.

Between March 29th and the April 5th break-in, Wildman and Stanton made several trips from their hometown of Walsall to Durham using stolen vehicles with fake license plates. Police identified them with number plate recognition cameras. The two defendants explained this evidence of their continuing involvement in the plan by saying they were providing the silver Mercedes guys with stolen cars to use during the burglary. The fact that several accomplices would testify that the stolen cars and cloned plates were used by Wildman and Stanton themselves before, during and after the crime didn’t deter them.

On the night of April 5th, the two drove to the museum in an Audi A3 with fake license plates. The thieves spent about 40 minutes breaking a hole in an outside wall and no more than one minute inside the museum. Using flashlights, they each went to two separate cabinets and stole the 18th century carved jade bowl and 17th century Dehua porcelain fairy boat. The alarm went off but they were so quick about it that they were gone before the police got to the museum. It’s almost liked they knew exactly what they wanted to steal, perhaps from an earlier visit?

After the smash and grab, they left in the same Audi. They hid the stolen pieces in a scrubland next to Harle Street in the town of Browney two miles from Durham. They changed cars in Browney and drove back to Walsall. The next day Stanton returned to Harle Street to pick up the Audi, changing the plates one more time.

It seemed like all that careful planning might have paid off, but when Wildman went back to the brownfield to recover the artifacts, he couldn’t find them. He was witnessed looking around the field in an agitated state until sunset. Acting on a tip, police arrived and arrested Wildman. He was released without charge shortly thereafter due to a prosecutorial oversight. Eight days later, authorities found the stolen artifacts in the field, hidden under a bush.

Wildman and Stanton hid out in various hotels in the Midlands until May 1st, when they were recognized thanks to a story on BBC’s Crimewatch show. The police arrested them at Baron’s Court Hotel in Walsall. In the room police found £10,000 in cash and a computer with information on the fake plates. Wildman said his £5,000 was given to him by his brother and he had no idea where Stanton got his identical sum of cash. A car parked outside was found containing a ski mask, a crowbar and fake license plates. Wildman said he didn’t know anything about that car.

Their accomplices — the guy who drove Stanton back to Harle Street to pick up the Audi, Stanton and Wildman’s girlfriends who booked their hotels while they were on the lam and another woman who allowed them to use her credit card to book the rooms — were arrested and confessed to their roles in the scheme. The driver got 20 months in jail. The girlfriends were sentenced 6 months in jail, 12 months suspended, and 200 hours of community service. Their friend with the credit card was sentenced to 4 months in prison, also suspended for a year.

Lee Wildman was sentenced to nine years in jail. Adrian Stanton got eight years. They refused to name the men who commissioned the crime because they said their families had been threatened, so the silver Mercedes cabal remains at large.

Both artifacts have been returned to the museum and will go back on display after an extensive review to beef up security practices.


Dense cluster of 35 pyramids found in Sudan

Saturday, February 9th, 2013

Researchers have discovered the remains of 35 pyramids clustered together in surprisingly close quarters in the archaeological site of Sedeinga on the left bank of the Nile in Sudan. The entire site is huge, covering more than 30 hectares, and has a range of monuments from the temple of Queen Tiye, wife of Amenhotep III, built in the second half of the 14th century B.C. to a 10th century A.D. Christian church.

In Amenhotep’s day, Sedeinga was in the Egyptian colony of Nubia but it became part of the independent Kingdom of Kush after the collapse of Egypt’s New Kingdom in 1070 B.C. The first 500 years or so of the kingdom is known as the Napatan (after Napata, which may have been the capital during this period) during which Egyptian hieroglyphics were used in inscriptions. From 500 B.C. through to around the 2nd century A.D. when the Kingdom declined under Roman pressure, the period is known as the Meroitic (after Meroë, possibly the new capital) as is the writing system that developed from the 2nd century B.C. on.

It’s the late Meroitic necropolis that the French Archaeological Mission to Sedeinga has been excavating since 2009. The pyramids were built over the course of several centuries with tombs next to them. They are so densely packed together because when the space began to fill up, later pyramids were squeezled in between and older ones reused. Just to give you an idea of how tight these quarters were, in the 2011 field season, researchers found 13 pyramids rubbing shoulders in 5,381 square feet, a space only slightly larger than an NBA basketball court.

The biggest pyramids they discovered are about 22 feet (7 meters) wide at their base with the smallest example, likely constructed for the burial of a child, being only 30 inches (750 millimeters) long. The tops of the pyramids are not attached, as the passage of time and the presence of a camel caravan route resulted in damage to the monuments. [Excavation director Vincent] Francigny said that the tops would have been decorated with a capstone depicting either a bird or a lotus flower on top of a solar orb.

Capstones have been discovered on the site, as have artifacts and human remains. Faience amulets depicting the deity Bes and an ankh on a crescent moon, pottery, beads and shells that were once strung together to make jewelry, a copper bowl, a stela with a Meroitic inscription and an offering table with a Meroitic dedication to a woman named “Aba-la,” which may be a nickname for “grandmother” (abuela!). The translation reads:

Oh Isis! Oh Osiris!
It is Aba-la.
Make her drink plentiful water;
Make her eat plentiful bread;
Make her be served a good meal.

The Kingdom of Kush borrowed a lot from Egyptian culture, which makes sense given its roots as an Egyptian colony. They worshiped the Egyptian pantheon and obviously their funerary architecture was inspired by Egypt. The Kush pyramids are smaller and pointier and several of the pyramid bases discovered in Sedeinga have an unusual circular structure inset within the square with cross-braces connecting the circle to the corners. Outside of Sedeinga, only one other pyramid has been found discovered with this circular element. There’s no equivalent in Egyptian architecture and there’s no structural purpose to it.

The grave of a child that was discovered late last year might shed some light on the curious circle design. The grave was covered by a brick circular cap. This may have been a local tumulus construction technique that was combined with the Egyptian fashion to produce a pyramid with a circle inside.





February 2013


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