We are often reminded to encourage creativity and artwork in children especially when art funds are reReceived as a winner of a Goodreads Giveaway
We are often reminded to encourage creativity and artwork in children especially when art funds are readily being cut from schooling budgets. Although this is indeed super important; we should also encourage imagination and the creation of ‘stories’ which can grow into the literary arts. Aya Watanabe addresses this niche need in her charming offering to small children with, “Paper Stories: A Snip-and-Glue Activity Book”.
“Paper Stories” is a colorful, scrapbook-paper quality activity book that feature various ‘prompts’ highlighting animals, people, food, etc; where children can cut and paste paper illustrations to complete a story. For example, adding stripes to a zebra, ice cream scoops to cones, umbrellas into children’s hands or decorating a bedroom. Using this method, children can practice scissor skills, arts/crafting and utilize using their imaginations to ‘write’ a story. Being both educational and entertaining while also exercising interaction; makes Watanabe’s “Paper Stories” beloved by children and parents, alike. “Paper Stories” even has a folder pocket in the inside back cover to collect scraps! Watanabe truly thought of everything!
I ‘played’ with “Paper Stories” with a six-year-old who is very much a budding artist and creative; and he was thrilled with the interaction and the feeling of being to make decisions that create his own version of events/stories. To be honest, even as a grown adult, I was itching to do some of my own cutting/pasting! “Paper Stories” is absolutely delightful.
Watanabe discloses at the conclusion of “Paper Stories” that some of the pages include hidden icons! This additional aspect of “Paper Stories” gives an extra ounce of fun to go back and look for the images that were missed during the first viewing.
“Paper Stories” is a high-quality and charismatic activity book that is perfect for small children. Watanabe is simplistic and yet truly unique with her piece making “Paper Stories” a winner and a must-have! ...more
All Tudor England history-enthusiasts hold a soft spot for Hans Holbein, the Basel-born artist (painter, jewelry-metal smith and architectural interioAll Tudor England history-enthusiasts hold a soft spot for Hans Holbein, the Basel-born artist (painter, jewelry-metal smith and architectural interior designer): the “it” artist of King Henry VIII’s court. Holbein was and still is; known for popularizing portraiture and creating the visual legacy of Tudor nobility. Even non-Tudor aficionados are familiar with Holbein’s work without even realizing it; as Holbein was the eyes and ‘camera’ (so to speak) of the Tudor court giving us an extant real image of the appearance of historical figures. Compare Holbein’s paintings to official celebrity headshots of modern day. Franny Moyle works to highlight the life of the artist in, “The King’s Painter: The Life of Hans Holbein.
Moyle sets “The King’s Painter” on a disclaimer foundation noting that the text is not a thorough biography due to the lack of existing resources concerning Holbein; and her belief that the politics and history of both the art world and Tudor court must also be discussed in order to understand Holbein’s person. Meaning, Moyle admits that “The King’s Painter” won’t be wholly-encompassing of Holbein and will go off on tangents. Heed this warning as that is certainly the stylistic-formula behind “The King’s Painter”. Rather than a standard biography, “The King’s Painter” combines elements of art history, art study/exploration, history review and college-style persuasive argument meshed with the biography perspective.
Consequentially, “The King’s Painter” is a convoluted, choppy, mish-mosh presentation with the reader constantly jumping back-and-forth in mind stream attempting to decipher Moyle’s angle. One moment Holbein is discussed, suddenly into art history and highlighting a specific painting and then diving into events that have nothing to do with Holbein. Yes, Moyle alerted of this style but it makes “The King’s Painter” difficult to grasp and disappointing for those readers who want to focus solely on Holbein. Furthermore, Moyle doesn’t necessarily excel in any of the departments resulting in a somewhat amateur work, including her slips of overly familiar text that has no place in a scholarly piece.
Moyle leaves many holes and unanswered questions regarding Holbein and his personal life. “The King’s Painter” will express such points as Holbein having marital discourses with his wife and then suddenly they are lovey-dovey with no explanation of the resolution to that end-point. Moyle’s writing is best described as a bit clumsy.
Equally aggravating is Moyle’s obsession with particular words. Seemingly, she chose a word from a thesaurus and received payment with each usage. For example, Moyle used the art term, ‘verisimilitude’ upwards of a billion times (often with several instances on the same page) and if I never hear this word again for the rest of my life; then I will be quite content.
On a positive note, even with the extensive macro-approach with “The King’s Painter”; Moyle refrains from being abrasively biased or speculative. This excludes the painting breakdowns where, at the end the day, conjecture runs rampant in the art world.
As “The King’s Painter” reaches the halfway mark; it becomes steadier in its flow and Moyle successfully hones in on Holbein offering information new even to those readers well-versed in Tudor history. Holbein becomes a bit more ‘real’ even if not 100% revealing his personal life or inner-psyche. Moyle goes even further to debunk some art myths which strengthen “The King’s Painter”.
“The King’s Painter” does fall victim to bouts of repetition and tedium which signal a weak editing job and discourages page-turning rather than solidify information. This is redeemed by the fresh dialogue crediting the connections between art and politics and specifically, Holbein and Henrician court events. This conversation is intriguing and adds depth to “The King’s Painter”.
Unfortunately, the concluding chapters of “The King’s Painter” feel rushed, empty and with a finality that fails to truly bring Holbein home in a memorable manner. Moyle supplements “The King’s Painter” with not one…not two…but THREE sections of glorious photo plates which are one of the principle highlights of “The King’s Painter”. Also included are Notes (hardly annotated) and a short bibliography leaving much to be desired.
“The King’s Painter” is a somewhat messy look at the great Hans Holbein but readers do come away with more understand than going into the text. “The King’s Painter” is suggested for Tudor lovers of Hans Holbein or art history enthusiasts of renaissance art but don’t expect to be blown away.
For the followers of the Elizabethan and Jacobean courts; the name Nicholas Hilliard is a familiar one. Hilliard was a highly esteemed artist specialiFor the followers of the Elizabethan and Jacobean courts; the name Nicholas Hilliard is a familiar one. Hilliard was a highly esteemed artist specializing in miniatures (although Hilliard was also known for producing some works in ‘great’ and for goldsmithing) and can be compared to his earlier predecessors Lucas Horenbout, Levina Teerlinc and even Hans Holbein the Younger. Hilliard’s sitters included Queen Elizabeth I, Mary Queen of Scots, Sir Francis Drake, Sir Walter Raleigh and King James I; and a plethora of others including the Medici, Valois and Habsburgs. Despite this high regard, bookshelves aren’t filled to the brim with collective works featuring Hilliard and/or his art. Historian (and art historian) Elizabeth Goldring ambitiously attempts to present a definitive biography of Nicholas Hilliard in, “Nicholas Hilliard: Life of an Artist”.
“Nicholas Hilliard” is a large-volume, glossy-paged coffee table book with Goldring combining stylistic elements of a biography, art history/study and historical period portrait in an effort to present a “big-picture” perspective of Nicholas Hilliard, his environment and his artistic output. Although this chronological study sounds like Goldring’s target of a “definitive biography” is met; “Nicholas Hilliard sadly fails.
“Nicholas Hilliard” is easy-to-read for general audiences in that Goldring avoids technical jargon that only an artist would understand and rather approaches the text with a pop-history brush (pun intended). The issue is that readers hardly learn about Hilliard, at all. Yes, Goldring does touch on Hilliard’s childhood, upbringing and artistic influences revealing some of his resume, so to speak. However, the true essence of the man is often missing. This is mostly likely due to the fact that there is an absence of primary documentation surrounding Hilliard and thus Goldring fills this void with tangents concerning Hilliard’s contemporaries and historical period. When Hilliard is discussed, the piece is captivating and insightful but “Nicholas Hilliard” is hardly a ‘definitive’ piece and it is insulting to deem it as such.
One of the major downfalls of “Nicholas Hilliard” is Goldring’s countless speculative statements and admittance of facts being ‘unknown’. These give a false view of Hilliard and/or result in a dead stop in the reading. Goldring makes more conjecture than not and it becomes quite tedious. “Nicholas Hilliard” is bluntly: slow, mediocre and lacking the pizzazz that makes a text riveting. Readers seek to learn about Hilliard but not much is discerned and Goldring’s writing is certainly not very memorable. There is little to gain from “Nicholas Hilliard”.
Goldring’s discussions of Hilliard’s art is a stronger precedent with a look at the sitters, art theory, execution and the detective work required with attributing each piece to Hilliard. “Nicholas Hilliard” is supplemented in these sections with bountiful, full-color images of Hilliard’s works (or that of his influences) with captions describing the artist, subject or title, year produced, materials used and current ownership. The art aspect of “Nicholas Hilliard” is its advantage and Goldring would have been better off focusing wholly on the subject rather than being in over her head with a macro-view.
“Nicholas Hilliard” drastically improves when highlighting his work at the Elizabethan court. The text is more consistent, provocative and brightens Hilliard in a way he wasn’t formally. Unfortunately, this diminishes after the death of Queen Elizabeth I with Hilliard’s Jacobean period which is rushed, abrupt and has a feeling of Goldring on a strict editor timeline crunch.
The conclusion of “Nicholas Hilliard” observing his legacy and his son’s involvement helps to finalize “Nicholas Hilliard” on a more solid note. Goldring fortifies “Nicholas Hilliard” with annotated notes and an extensive bibliography list of sources.
It would be easy to flatter “Nicholas Hilliard” merely because there is little to compare it with and it is noteworthy to produce a biography spotlighting Hilliard. However, “Nicholas Hilliard” is slow, disjointed, filled with conjecture and does not reveal much about Nicholas Hilliard. The most readers gather is that Hilliard was poor with his finances and constantly in debt. “Nicholas Hilliard” is, despite these complaints, recommended for readers interested in Tudor and Jacobean history and art – but do not expect a monumental, mind-blowing, full-disclosure piece. ...more
The Bayeux Tapestry (which, in fact, is an embroidery on linen and not a tapestry at all); is iconic in scope concerning both English history and as aThe Bayeux Tapestry (which, in fact, is an embroidery on linen and not a tapestry at all); is iconic in scope concerning both English history and as an art piece. Pictorially telling the events of the Norman Conquest and the Battle of Hastings in 1066; its creation, content and impact have mesmerized academics, historians, art students and pop culture to unprecedented levels and will continue to do so into prosperity. David Musgrove and Michael Lewis explore the ‘tapestry’ in, “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry: Unraveling the Norman Conquest”.
There are no two better-qualified individuals to come together to dissect the Bayeux Tapestry than David Musgrove and Michael Lewis. Musgrove is not the only the Content Director for the BBC History family of magazines (yes, plural); but also holds a PhD in Medieval Archaeology. Meanwhile, Michael Lewis holds a slew of credentials as the Head of Portable Antiquities and Treasure at the British Museum, Professor of archaeology, expert on the Bayeux Tapestry and member of the Bayeux Tapestry committee in charge of the redisplay of the embroidery. This alone ups the ante of “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” and pressures it to deliver to demand.
“The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is an antiquarian lecture studying the embroidery in all its aspects from intent, creation, purpose, and textile & art history to social history accompanied by 145 illustrations. Although this sounds ambitious, lengthy and is lots of ground to cover in one volume; “The Story of Bayeux Tapestry” is readable, easy-to-understand, fast-paced and has an exciting narrative making it both educational/functional and entertaining.
Musgrove and Lewis begin “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” analyzing the who, when and why of embroidery using detective/sleuth skills and the few historical sources available to fully encapsulate the meaning of the Bayeux Tapestry. Being that the answers to all these questions are speculation; the authors traverse all schools of thought and variables without offering any biased, uneducated streams (albeit, occasionally intermingled with a hint of British humor). This gives “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” both a macro and micro look into the embroidery/Norman Conquest offering readers an extensive and well-rounded portrait.
“The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” serves as a scene-by-scene exploration of the textile history but also stands as a scholarly breakdown of the fall of the Anglo-Saxon period and the Norman invasion in English history. Often, these eras are complicated to understand/remember even for the staunchest English history enthusiast; but Musgrove and Lewis impressively offer a text that is incredibly engaging with, “Now I get it!” – moments in an organic and effortless way. The entire text is cohesive with a fast heartbeat. The formatting is also to the readers’ benefit compartmentalizing the embroidery into focal points supplemented with graphics of the actual Bayeux Tapestry. “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is buttoned-up with finesse.
Co-authors often run the risk of contrasting tones that fail to mesh seamlessly and incur frequent repetition of material. Musgrove and Lewis overcome these hurdles with a cohesive, singular voice and keep repetition to a bare minimum resulting in an intriguing output. “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is difficult to put down due to its fascinating essence but readers will be encouraged to do so in order to extend the journey.
Although academic in nature; “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is far from dry. Musgrove and Lewis offer a text that is so simple and yet multi-layered with a magical shine that can’t properly be described and rather needs to be experienced first-hand. Occasionally, Musgrove and Lewis suggest their own interpretation and raise further questions that flow on a philosophical strand and give readers ‘food for thought’.
“The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” concludes with highlights of its historical, cultural and social legacies/impact showing its effects throughout history to modern day. In this manner, “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is summarized on a strong and memorable note. Musgrove and Lewis supplement “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” with a visual representation of the entire embroidery, a timeline of key period events and further reading notes (although these notes are very cluttered).
“The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is absolutely phenomenal both in content and execution and is a pleasure to read. It can go as far as being in the top of antiquarian literature/history. “The Story of the Bayeux Tapestry” is recommended for all English history buffs and those interested in antiquated art/artifacts....more
Maximilian I was the greatest Hapsburg dynastic ruler envied throughout much Renaissance Europe. Or, at least that is the image he presented and wanteMaximilian I was the greatest Hapsburg dynastic ruler envied throughout much Renaissance Europe. Or, at least that is the image he presented and wanted the public to believe. Whether this is accurate or not, is up for debate. Maximilian curated his entire persona knowing the value of public relations; through commissioned art works and suits or armor (for himself and to be given as gifts). To celebrate the 500th anniversary of Maximilian’s death in 2019; the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City in consort with various European museums and foundations; presented an exhibit highlighting Maximilian’s art and image entitled, “The Last Knight: The Art, Armor and Ambition of Maximilian I” (on view October 7, 2019 – January 5, 2020). The Met and Pierre Terjanian (Curator in Charge in the Department of Arms and Armor for Arthur Ochs Salzberger) offers a supplemental catalog and visual presentation of the exhibition by the same name.
“The Last Knight” is a 300+ paged glossy, all-color coffee table book that digests and congests “The Last Knight” exhibit into a supplemental (or, in lieu of, for those couldn’t visit), readable art text. Pierre Terjanian breaks “The Last Knight” into compartmentalized sections focusing on, “The Currency of Power”, the “Political Struggle and Dynastic Triumph (Adam B. Brandow and Matthias Pfaffenbichler) and “The Making of the ‘Last Knight’” (Stefan Krause). This is then followed by the catalog of the exhibit further divided into sub-topics of art interest (Burgundian Inheritance, Marital Hero, Head of a Lineage, Grand Master of Knights, The Armorers and Legacy).
The first 60 pages of “The Last Knight” preceding the catalog view; attempts to introduce Maximilian in a quick-breakdown both in respect to his biography/rule and to the subject of the exhibit: his art, image, and armor. Unfortunately, the text is repetitive, dry and lacks an intriguing narrative that creates interest/excitement in either Maximilian or “The Last Knight” even for those readers interested in the topic and time period. In addition, this introductory text does not fuel the exhibit nor does it truly explain Maximilian as a man. Bluntly: these pages can be skipped without causing any confusion or taking away from the catalog.
When readers finally overcome this reading hurdle; the 200-page look at “The Last Knight” exhibit is exponentially more compelling and offers the zest the former pages lacked. The catalog overview strives to make readers feel as though they are at the exhibit roaming the rooms at the Met; offering high-quality images of the artifacts accompanied by essays explaining a back history of the creation of the piece, the reason for production, impact, the actual artistic details and the history of ownership. These are presented alongside statistics of the artist, date, museum that currently displays/owns the piece and reference notes. Terjanian is certainly detail-oriented and left no leaf unturned in “The Last Knight”.
Most of these essays are penned by Terjanian himself in conjunction with other occasional contributors. Consequentially, this means that the writing style discrepancies are noticeable amongst the authors and repetitive facts and narratives are often rendered with each artifact attempting to stand on its own rather than as a smooth, cohesive text. On the other hand, readers do learn much about Maximilian, his mindset and the time period at-hand. This moves “The Last Knight” along and helps to pull readers in with more depth.
Elaborating on this, Terjanian is a master at art history, research and debunking art myths leading “The Last Knight” in the direction of a definitive, detective look into Maximilian I. These are the tastiest morsels of “The Last Knights” and are emphatically magnetic.
Even though “The Last Knight” offers an end-of-book glossary of terms; “The Last Knight” can be confusing to the ‘Average Joe’ reader not well-versed in art history and details like armory pieces. Terjanian doesn’t hold back on technical subject jargon and thus, can cause readers to be slightly in over their heads. “The Last Knight” isn’t hindered overly much but it is still noticeable and a bit hampering.
The strongest artifacts in the catalog of “The Last Knight” are, without a doubt, the armory pieces owned by Maximilian (or those commissioned by him as gifts) and related works. Some of the other artifacts don’t necessarily make sense with the exhibit and could have been excluded as their inclusion is not even explained.
The graphic images in “The Last Knight” truly captivate with crisp, clear, detailed and zoomed-in angles of the art that helps ease the disappointment of readers who could not experience the exhibit in-person. In this way, “The Last Knight” is suitable for browsing even without reading the adjoining essays. “The Last Knight” is meant to be taken in slowly and deliberately with thought rather than just zipped through. It should be noted, however, that the stunning cover piece armor is not one that was owned by Maximilian but commissioned by him for his grandson.
“The Last Knight” concludes awkwardly with a piece from circa-1900 that perhaps intended to showcase Maximilian’s modern-day influence but fails at this emphasis. Fortunately this weakness is redeemed with a chronology comparing Maximilian’s life to that of the Hapsburg family events and ‘Wider Political Events’; a pictorial Hapsburg genealogical chart, a list of Maximilian’s armorers, a glossary of terms, notes and an extensive bibliography ending on a strong, summarizing note that wraps “The Last Knight” with added delights.
“The Last Knight” is a visual feast introduction into the ambition and art of Maximilian I but fails to truly drive the subject home or bring the exhibition to life. There is simply a missing element to “The Last Knight” making it great for artifact-browsing but not as a strong overall supplement. “The Last Knight” doesn’t even remotely stand next to “Henry VIII: Arms and the Man” – a similar exhibit held in England and book catalog (read my 5-star review here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) which is recommended 100x over “The Last Knight”.
Side Note: I’ve had the pleasure and privilege of viewing some of the pieces listed in “The Last Knight” in person at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles where I live and also in the Armory Room at the Cleveland Museum of Art in Cleveland, Ohio. Let me tell you: they are glorious!...more
I am extremely blessed, honored and grateful that I spent my days in research libraries (and printing presses) before I could walk or talk; almost dirI am extremely blessed, honored and grateful that I spent my days in research libraries (and printing presses) before I could walk or talk; almost directly out of the womb. I’ve seen one of the original Tyndale translated Bibles, an original “Canterbury Tales” manuscript and multiple other manuscripts and illuminations. All that being said; I am not Christopher De Hamel. Who is Mr. Christopher De Hamel? De Hamel is one of the most sought-after paleographers (the study of manuscripts and their ownership) and one of the top leading experts in the field. Not many can hold a candle to De Hamel’s expertise. Despite his high status, De Hamel strives to reveal the world of paleography in, “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts: Twelve Journeys into the Medieval World”.
If forced to compartmentalize “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts”; then one might simply call the text an art history piece. However, this would be downplaying the sheer scope of the De Hamel’s writing. “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is a combination medieval art history, memoir, exposé, technical study and research supplement.
In “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts”, De Hamel presents twelve manuscripts throughout the course of 600 pages and breaks down various aspects of the artifacts: composition (paper, parchment, font, ink), creation process, history of ownership, use of the manuscript (purpose), his own journey to the research libraries to study the texts, etc. The twelve manuscripts are chosen based on distinct merits such as the actual fame surrounding the manuscript (for example, Jeanne of Navarre’s Book of Hours and an original “Canterbury Tales”), art quality, creation and ownership; to name a few qualifiers. This gives readers a variety of history lessons and a wide reach on the subject.
“Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is very ‘heavy’ reading and is certainly not light even for those readers well-versed in medieval history, art, and/or manuscripts. Not only does De Hamel cover a lot of ground regarding the histories of each manuscript and the literal modern-day physical appearances; but he also tends to go off on tangents. “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” often drones on-and-on and feels like it was missing a credible editor. Many portions of “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” are apt for skimming resulting in an inconsistent, uneven pace that is very up-and-down with strong opposite end spectrum hitters (meaning, the text is either very strong or weak with little middle ground).
De Hamel loosens the text with occasional bouts of that good ole’ English sarcasm and sass, lightening the reader’s work load. Unfortunately, De Hamel sometimes takes this too far into a negative territory. Many readers and reviewers complain that De Hamel displays blatant sexism, misogyny and inequality of the genders; making derogatory, offhand and unnecessary comments regarding women ranging from one too many comments about women’s weight and looks to mentioning that, “…usually women sit in this part of the room” but not explaining context. Yet, all the men are credited as being helpful meanwhile women are generally described as being cranky. Not only does this have NO place in an academic piece; but it has no place ANYWHERE! Quite bluntly, it is disgusting and takes away from De Hamel’s credibility.
Related to this, De Hamel is often pompous and arrogant commenting on how research library staff supposedly treats him like gold and gives him VIP treatment or he continuously shuns practices like wearing gloves when handling manuscripts like the entitled man that he is. First off, this once again should not be included in such a text and second: NO ONE CARES!!!! De Hamel sounds like a rock band groupie bragging about how many band members he’s had sex with.
On a more positive note, De Hamel is clearly very passionate and educated on the subject at hand and is amazing at the sleuthing that is the aim of paleography. There are illuminating moments (no pun intended) that exemplify why De Hamel is a leader in his career field.
“Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is glorious in presentation with glossy full-color pages overflowing with beautiful, detailed images from each of the twelve manuscripts. “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is certainly a feast for the eyes.
Although not a huge defector, but noticeable, is De Hamel’s failure to translate all foreign language quotes and phrases. Why include these if most readers can’t understand them? Is this once again De Hamel’s ego assuming everyone knows multiple languages just because he does?
Los Angeles resident readers such as myself; will find especial delight in the mentioning of the Getty and its illuminated manuscripts, the Huntington Research Library (my favorite place in LA!) and its copy of an original “Canterbury Tales”.
De Hamel concludes “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” with an emotional summary of the importance of the manuscripts plus a PSA about paleography and how (supposedly) everyone is encouraged to join the career field. Yes, I’m sure an arrogant, sexist male-dominated field is very ‘open’ (eye roll).
“Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is supplemented with Notes (with run-on sentences covering the entire page so don’t expect much clarity) and a bibliography list.
“Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is a beautiful visual piece on a marvelous topic. However, the text is clunky and inconsistent, De Hamel is conceited and demeaning to women and the text often divulges from the thesis. “Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts” is suggested for readers with a deep interest in the subject but definitely not for novice readers or the ‘Average Joe’....more
Before hand-written signatures became the go-to identifier and/or official sign-off; certification was made legal by the use of seals: device (image) Before hand-written signatures became the go-to identifier and/or official sign-off; certification was made legal by the use of seals: device (image) and legend (text) imprints pressed into softened wax and affixed to documents. All readers of history texts and even historical fiction tend to be familiar with this practice. There was more to a seal than just being the symbol of official correspondence, however. These seals served as a branding tool to visually dictate blood lineage, class status, profession, location and various other tidbits of information. Who knew that ‘branding’ wasn’t solely a modern-day marketing contrivance?! Dr. Paul Dryburgh - the Principal Records Specialist at The National Archives in England – introduces readers to part of their seal archival collection in, “Royal Seals: Images of Power and Majesty”.
“Royal Seals” is a full-color, glossy-paged history coffee table book that appendages the collection of seals at The National Archives and showcases them by division of Royal Seals, Personal Seals and Ecclesiastical Seals. Naturally, this is a curated textual exhibition as the entire collection residing at The National Archives would fill several volumes and thus Dryburgh had the difficult task of selecting which artifacts to highlight. “Royal Seals” immediately illuminates readers with an education on the usage of seals, how they were made, who utilized them, etc; and therefore “Royal Seals” offers a compelling grace both for research and/or entertainment purposes. Dryburgh maintains a middle-ground tone approach that is familiar and casual; but still enforces credibility and professionalism making “Royal Seals” perfectly accessible for the average reader.
Each section of “Royal Seals” gloriously revisits history spotlighting specific seals and their owners while explaining the historical impact at the time of use and on predecessors. Simultaneously, Dryburgh familiarizes the artistic merits of the seal with its actual creation and visual impact. The first section features the seals of the English monarchy and marches along in chronological order accompanied with stunning photographs of the actual seal per discussion. The text is detailed and explanatory; but with a moving pace that entraps in its own right alongside the images.
Unfortunately, this isn’t pimpled without some negatives as Dryburgh often comments on intricate aspects of the seals that can NOT be noticed in the photos no matter how hard one squints or holds the pages to one’s eyes. These are probably only ascertained with the seal in hand or under a magnifying glass. This does come with some frustration to readers. Added to this, is Dryburgh’s habit of diving into the details of monarchial seals that aren’t visually demonstrated. Why mention these seals at all if the pages aren’t supplemented with the images?
“Royal Seals” progresses into the seals of nobility, women, tradesmen and onward to the clergy and ecclesiastical powers. It is invigorating to see the seal of laymen (aside from just royalty) as readers can understand the usage of seals in comparison to today’s notarized seals of authenticity or ink-stamps on documents. There are examples of repetition among the text that elicits reader groans (“You’ve already said this, Dryburgh!”); but it isn’t terribly disadvantageous to “Royal Seals”, overall.
Dryburgh culminates the text with a conclusion quickly traversing a look at how seal were produced in relation to the actual materials, chemical compositions of the colors, monetary values and lasting effects. This would have made sense in the beginning of “Royal Seals” but it is understandable given that Dryburgh wanted to explain the seals in a preliminary exercise so that the details are more dissected. The finality does feel abrupt and suddenly ‘ends’ without a proper summation. Dryburgh attempts to remedy this with a short list of sources for additional reading/research.
Despite some minor flaws, “Royal Seals” is a beautiful visual representation and conversational discussion of the history of seals in England and is certainly recommended for history-lovers interested in this niche subject. “Royal Seals” is a lovely addition to any art coffee table or on a history fan’s bookshelves....more
Don’t judge me but I’ve had a crush on actor/comedian/writer/musician/etc/ Steve Marin since I was seven years old (I’m 36 at the time of this review)Don’t judge me but I’ve had a crush on actor/comedian/writer/musician/etc/ Steve Marin since I was seven years old (I’m 36 at the time of this review). I can’t pinpoint what it is – but there is something very dashing about Steve Martin and it works for me (isn’t ‘dashing’ a wonderful descriptor?). Martin decided to embark on a new artistic outlet – probably the only one he has yet to traverse: cartoon/comics. Thanks to a mutual friend; Martin paired up with Harry Bliss (“The New Yorker” cover artist/cartoonist and children’s book illustrator) to present, “A Wealth of Pigeons: A Cartoon Collection”.
“A Wealth of Pigeons” is a visually graphic coffee table book that is exactly what the title states: a collection of cartoons. Within the introduction to the piece, Martin explains that the creative process for “A Wealth of Pigeons” followed two avenues: (1) Martin had an idea or caption and sent it to Bliss for him to draw the accompanying image or (2) Bliss drew an ‘orphan’ cartoon and asked Martin to think of a caption. This results in a solid collaboration with both men enjoying an artistic release.
The cartoons in “A Wealth of Pigeons” vary in illustration style, content, comic delivery (puns, dry humor, etc) and detail which helps the reader avoid boredom or stagnant art. The consistent tie between the images is the ability to be subtle. None of the cartoons are “in your face” and thus “A Wealth of Pigeons” is best for a soft chuckle rather than a loud guffaw.
A whimsical addition to “A Wealth of Pigeons”, are the cartoons in which Martin and Bliss poke fun at themselves and their collaboration. Somehow these are the most entertaining and ‘real’. Plus, many of these images are in color whereas 98% of the book is in black-and-white.
Unfortunately, some of the cartoons in “A Wealth of Pigeons” are dated and may not make sense in the future (i.e. “Un-Chance the Rapper”) but this is probably related to the position Bliss holds and his perspective from a publication space. They are creative; but dated nevertheless.
Personally, I didn’t find “A Wealth of Pigeons” to be funny overall (I’m sorry Steve! Don’t hate me! I love you!); but it regardless occupied my mind for a short time.
“A Wealth of Pigeons” is a charming, quick (one day) read but don’t expect anything life-altering. Although Martin’s one-offers are appreciated; he should stick to his other award-winning talent streams. “A Wealth of Pigeons” is suggested for die-hard Steve Martin fans or for a ‘passing’ laugh but otherwise it isn’t crucial reading material. ...more
Although history is most credibly told through affirmed primary textual resources; the narrative is also visualized through objects and art – it is whAlthough history is most credibly told through affirmed primary textual resources; the narrative is also visualized through objects and art – it is why we have museums, after all. Textiles – tapestries, rugs, arras, linens, naperies, bed wear, fabrics, embroideries, etc – served a multi-layered purpose with mere decoration being just the simplest context. Textiles displayed wealth and socio-economic class/rank, could contain secret ciphers/messages, emphasized personal beliefs or constructs, had political purposes and the list goes on and on. Eleri Lynn, the former curator of the Royal Ceremonial Dress Collection at Historic Royal Palaces, examines these textiles and the roles they played during the Tudor dynasty in, “Tudor Textiles”.
“Tudor Textiles” is a medium-sized, soft cover, glossy-paged art history coffee table book surveying the general history and specific manifestations of textiles during the Tudor reigns from that of King Henry VII through Queen Elizabeth I. Without argument, “Tudor Textiles” is a glorious visual romp with stunningly-detailed photos and illustrations which transports readers to the museums and historic landmarks of England. “Tudor Textiles” would pair well as a complementary supplement to an art exhibit.
Lynn compartmentalizes “Tudor Textiles” by subject beginning with a brief overview of textiles/textile industries and then diving into a specific topical study concerning the actual textile pieces at Tudor courts: their purposes, construction and an art analysis. This is followed by a more in-depth look at the creative process and assembly of these pieces. Lynn weaves (no pun intended) an accessible narrative that is easy-to-read and not overflowing with technical jargon but not so simplified that it would render the text without merit. This results in “Tudor Textiles” being of interest to both general audiences and those more knowledgeable on the topic.
That said, Lynn has a habit of highlighting obscure, intriguing topics and failing to entice excitement during the execution and “Tudor Textiles” is no exception. Lynn’s pace is devastatingly slow within “Tudor Textiles” to the extent that it is a detriment to the topic on hand and is brutally insulting (note: it took me forever to finish “Tudor Textiles” which is a direct reflection of this: it is simply NOT a page-turner). Lynn doesn’t meet her supposed purpose of the text and is often too vague, general and repetitive. Instead of revealing various compelling tidbits; Lynn instead mentions textiles owned by the Tudors briefly explaining them and then moves onto the next. The material lacks any zest, profound information or memorable flair and is both choppy and disjointed in presentation. Readers don’t pull much from the pages of “Tudor Textiles” (aside from the illustrations). It is truly quite shameful.
Lynn counteracts this downfall, slightly, with obvious breadth of research, credible sources and personal knowledge of the subject making “Tudor Textiles” strong on the history functionality front. Despite its generalized content and snail-paced speed; there are occasional bursts of interesting, energized facts.
“Tudor Textiles” is paired well with each illustration visually demonstrating to readers the examples cited within the text. This academic crossover prevents any misunderstandings or inabilities to envision the textiles discussed. Each illustration features a detailed caption listing the origin/artist of the piece, location, year, relevance/artistic style and the current geographic home of the piece. “Tudor Textiles” is graphically ‘on-point’ and is a delight to the eyes.
Lynn concludes “Tudor Textiles” with a more intimate look at the textiles industries during the Tudor monarchical period from the fibers used, dying process, to the trade routes and everything in between. This section is noticeably faster-paced than the former chapters of “Tudor Textiles” and thus leaves readers on a semi-strong note.
“Tudor Textiles” is fortified with a glossary of terms, notes (not annotated) and a bibliography encouraging further research concerning textiles and Tudor England.
Lynn’s “Tudor Textiles” is sadly not the riveting, earth-shattering exposé or deep dive that readers would expect from the topic; but those familiar with Lynn’s work will be used to this disappointment. “Tudor Textiles” is recommended for readers eager to read all things Tudor history; but otherwise it can be skipped or at the very least: put off. Much of the content is discussed in other Tudor history books and therefore doesn’t illuminate new facts. “Tudor Textiles” isn’t absolutely awful; but sadly does devalue an amazing topic. ...more
Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the Peanuts gang have been a solid cornerstone in pop culture for over 60 years, easily identifiable whether you are a fan Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the Peanuts gang have been a solid cornerstone in pop culture for over 60 years, easily identifiable whether you are a fan of comic strips or not. In fact, the overly anxious Charlie Brown , the human-like Snoopy, and their friends can be found in more places than one even realizes. Charles M. Schulz created quite a cast of characters, many based on himself or personal development experiences. Andrew Farago praises these eccentric Peanuts kiddos and compiles their statistics in, “The Complete Peanuts Family Album: The Ultimate Guide to Charles M. Schulz’s Classic Characters”.
“The Complete Peanuts Family Album” is a full-color coffee table book serving to list and identify each member of the Peanuts comic strip even if those figures were only featured in a single appearance. After a (very) brief introduction into Schulz’s Peanuts world; Farago dives into the list of characters starting with Charlie Brown. Farago’s identifications include statistical information including the date the character is first mentioned, named, and/or appeared alongside a background bio that often includes quotes from Schulz concerning his feelings about a character or the way he or she fits into the complexities of the strip. This is supplemented with graphic visuals: a strip featuring the character, model sheets, drawings and other illustrative artifacts.
Farago excels at making the character biographies come alive giving a sense and purpose to each Peanuts character. Whether a die-hard fan or just an average Peanuts-lover; the text provides introspection and a wide-eye view that alters perceptions of the Peanuts strips (in a good way). One realizes more so than ever, the depth behind Schulz’s creations.
In addition to Peanuts characters; Farago also includes characterizations of recurring events, places, and subjects from the Peanuts world. This thematic approach is almost philosophical and also creates a more breakdown analysis of the entire Peanuts imaginary world.
“The Complete Peanuts Family Album” concludes with a brief mini “bio” of Charles Schulz. This serves as a reminder, though, of what this text is missing in regards to conceptual strength. “The Complete Peanuts Family Album” would have aided monumentally from a more in-depth look at the Peanuts gang with the initial conception to such topics as memorabilia. Also severely absent is a thorough background discussion of Schulz and his cartooning. However, “The Complete Peanuts Family Album” is precisely that: a field guide to the characters and not a Peanuts social history and in that regard; Farago hits his thesis completely on target.
Farago’s “The Complete Peanuts Family Album” is a charming and cute approach to introducing /refreshing the Peanuts gang that will delights fans of the strip. Although the text isn’t mind-blowing or overly captivating to the average reader; “The Complete Peanuts Family Album” is recommended for all Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and Peanuts fans. ...more
The daughter of an Italian painter in seventeenth-century Italy; Artemisia Gentileschi existed in a world where women lived either as wives or in a coThe daughter of an Italian painter in seventeenth-century Italy; Artemisia Gentileschi existed in a world where women lived either as wives or in a covenant and instead emerged as a celebrated Baroque painter. Overcoming a sensational rape trial (which she ‘won’); Artemisia stands firmly among feminist circles and in the art world. Sadly, neither Artemisia nor her father receives the proper attention they rightfully deserve. This was redeemed in 2002 by a three-city exhibit (Rome, New York City, and St. Louis) featuring a sole focus on the Gentileschi catalogs. Keith Christiansen and Judith Mann (curators to the exhibits) accompanied the groundbreaking museum appearances in, “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi”.
“Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi” is a glorious coffee table art book combining the standard museum exhibit-coverage supplement with a biographical and psychoanalytical breakdown. The volume is visually stunning with glossy pages and vivid photos of the catalogs of these two artists but beyond that; it offers essays from various contributors exploring not only Orazio and Artemisia but also of the art environment in seventeenth-century Italy.
The curators divide the text with a former focus on Orazio by Christiansen and the latter on Artemisia by Mann. Christiansen hits the ground running with a scholarly but easy-to-understand and readable spotlight on Orazio. One doesn’t have to be an art expert to be captivated by the reading and Christiansen truly opens up the world of art and Orazio to readers rather than merely exploring the technical aspects of paintings which tends to be the habit of art books.
Christiansen successfully applies a comparison and co-existing look at Orazio’s effects on Artemisia (although he sometimes ventures off on tangents) which gives readers a balanced and well-rounded look concerning the subject.
A highlight of “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi” is that the painting captions and text don’t only describe the art but also explores the technique and emotional creation, the commissioners for each piece, the history of ownership/location, etc. Very few texts exist on these two artists and “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi” is definitely the “go-to” for admirers of their work.
The transition into Mann’s section on Artemisia is smooth, occurring around the 250-page mark. Mann initially pens a background essay into Artemisia’s life on a personal and professional level. Sadly, though, Mann’s writing almost has a negative spin and doesn’t feature Artemisia in the best light. Perhaps this was an attempt by Mann to not be overly biased towards Artemisia but she slips into the opposite end of the spectrum.
Following the conclusion of Artemisia’s half of “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi”, are compelling appendices featuring never-before published documents: transcripts of Artemisia’s rape trial against Agostino Tassi, inventory receipts of Artemisia’s goods, and several documents of Orazio’s, including during his time at the court of King Charles I of England. These highlights add considerable depth to “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi” and result in stand-out material among traditional art books. The appendices will certainly please those who seek a look at the personalities of the father and daughter painters beyond their professional work. The only issue is with Appendix Four in which the documents are not translated in full from Italian with the exception of one (Orazio’s will).
“Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi” wraps up with an extensive and notable biography.
Whether a Gentileschi lover or just a fan of coffee table art books; pure satisfaction is derived from “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi”. The piece is exceptional and especially when there are few books in existence on the Gentileschi pair. “Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi” is recommended for Artemisia Gentileschi fans, those seeking an introduction to the father and daughter, and Italian Baroque art connoisseurs. ...more
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