
Matthew Cook is a British soldier serving in Afghanistan. His watercolors are simply superb. There is currently an exhibition of his work at the Ministry of Defence in London. ►►►read more
the curatorship of possibilities – ben's blog about urban ethos and connectedness
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Matthew Cook is a British soldier serving in Afghanistan. His watercolors are simply superb. There is currently an exhibition of his work at the Ministry of Defence in London. ►►►read more
To continue the theme (see my post Van Gogh Letters Set a New Standard for Online Manuscript Publishing) bibliodyssey published an extensive collection of sketches with excerpts from the corresponding letters – Handshakes in Thought.

To Theo from The Hague. September 1882: “Well, I hope that the small bench, even if not yet saleable, will show you that I have nothing against tackling subjects with something agreeable or pleasant about them, which are thus more likely to find buyers than things with a more sombre sentiment. [..] There’s so much paint around that it has even got onto this letter — I’m working on the big watercolour of the bench. I hope it comes off, but the great problem is to retain detail with deep tone, and clarity is extremely difficult.”

To Theo from The Hague. March 1883: “Do you remember bringing me pieces of natural chalk last summer? I tried to work with it then but couldn’t. So I was left with a few pieces that I took up again these past few days; enclosed a scratch done with it. As you see, it’s a warm, unusual black. I’d very much like you to bring some more, this summer say. It has one great advantage — the firm pieces are much easier to hold while sketching than a thin stick of conté, which has nothing to grip and breaks all the time. So it’s marvellous for sketching out of doors.”

To Theo from The Hague. October 1882: “Imagine, this week to my great surprise I received a package from home — with a winter coat, warm trousers, and a warm lady’s coat. I was very touched. The churchyard with the wooden crosses is often on my mind, so I may do some studies for it in advance – I would like to do something like that in the snow – a peasant funeral or the like. In short, an effect like the enclosed scratch of miners.”

To Theo from The Hague. March 1883: “Here’s a scratch, for example, that I did in that kind of daydream. It shows a gentleman who has had to spend the night at a village inn due to the late arrival of diligence or some such reason. Now he has risen early, and while he orders a glass of brandy for the cold he pays the innkeeper’s wife (a woman with a peasant’s cap). But it’s still very early in the morning, ‘the crack of dawn’, — he must catch the mail-coach — the moon is still shining and the glistening snow can be seen through the window of the taproom — and the objects cast oddly whimsical shadows. This story is really nothing at all, and the scratch is nothing too, but from one thing and another you’ll perhaps understand what I mean, namely that of late everything had a je ne sais quoi that made one feel like scribbling it down on paper. In short, the whole of nature is an inexpressibly beautiful Black and White exhibition when there are those snow effects.”

To Theo Van Gogh from Laken (near Brussels). November 1878: “That little drawing, ‘The Au charbonnage café’ is really nothing special, but the reason I couldn’t help making it is because one sees so many coalmen, and they really are a remarkable people. This little house is not far from Trekweg, it’s actually a simple inn right next to the big workplace where the workers come in their free time to eat their bread and drink a glass of beer.
Back during my time in England I applied for a position as an evangelist among the coal-miners, but they brushed my request aside and said I had to be at least 25 years old. You surely know that one of the root or fundamental truths, not only of the gospel but of the entire Bible, is ‘the light that dawns in the darkness’. From darkness to Light. Well then, who will most certainly need it, who will have an ear to hear it?”
Palazzo Vecchio
Art historian Maurizio Seracini got permission from the city of Florence to prove his theory that the most significant masterpiece by Leonardo Battle of Anghiari is intact behind frescos by Giorgio Vasari in Palazzo Vecchio. Numerous sketches (below) are scattered around the world museums, although no one knows where the final work is. Telegraph – Italian palace fresco may hide Leonardo da Vinci masterpiece.
Leonardo, The Battle of Anghiari, 1503-05, Black chalk, pen and ink, watercolour on paper, Musée du Louvre, Paris
“The Battle of Anghiari (Wikipedia) was fought on June 29, 1440, between Milan and the Italian League led by Republic of Florence in the course of the Wars in Lombardy. The League’s army concentrated on Anghiari, a small centre of Tuscany, and comprised: 4,000 Papal troops, under Cardinal Lodovico Trevisan; a Florentine contingent of around the same size, and a company of 300 men-at-arms (knights) from Venice, led by Micheletto Attendolo. Other men joined for the occasion from the Anghiari itself. The numerically superior Milanese force was led by the famous condottiero Niccolò Piccinino in the name of Duke Filippo Maria Visconti and reached the area on the night of June 28. Some 2,000 men from the nearby town of Sansepolcro joined the Milanese. Confident in his superior manpower, and on the element of surprise Piccinino ordered an attack in the afternoon of the following day. However the dust lifted by the Milanese on the Sansepolcro-Anghiari road was noticed by Micheletto and the League’s forces were made ready for battle.”
In 1503 Florence deposed the Medici mafia and proclaimed a Republic. They commissioned The Battle of Anghiari to Leonardo. 57 years later in 1560 the Medici family returned to power and allegedly asked Giorgio Vasari to cover the most significant art commission of the Republic.
Telegraphs reports that “Prof Seracini thinks he [Giorgio Vasari] left a clue to what was beneath by depicting a military banner which bears the words “Cerca Trova” – seek and you will find.” ►►►read more

This sketch is my variation on the original found now at ouroboros (by saintgasoline.com)
Paul Carr versus the Internet Anonymity – Manifesto
by Ben Atlas on 08.12.2009.8:01pm · 0 comments
Sir John Gilbert, A sketch on a card, January 15th, 1878
As a follow up to the article I just posted, Paul Carr wires another post with a real proposal to tackle anonymity on the internet. Here is the meat of the proposal and the prediction. The Telegraph – Internet anonymity: your questions answered, and a modest proposal:
Image licensed courtesy of Picture Library of the Royal Academy of Arts