On this day in 1920, Wolfgang Kapp and Walther von Lรผttwitz with the support of the disbanded military staged an attempted coup aimed to undo the November Revolution and reinstate the monarchy since replaced by the duly elected government of the Weimar Republic—a historical designation and never used in official parlance with Germany retaining the name Deutsches Reich in use since 1871 due to its constituent states and better translated as realm rather than empire. Shock troops occupied Berlin and Kapp declared himself chancellor of a provisional regime with the government in temporary exile in Dresden.
Though initial resistance and opposition did not materialize, civil servants and other representatives refused to collaborate with the putschists and held counter-rallies and a general strike, which while paralyzing the country and causing the take-over to collapse after four days there was bloodshed and unrest. Although attesting the art movement’s political neutrality, Walter Gropius created a monument to the March Dead (Denkmal fรผr die Mรคrzgefallenen) to memorialise workers killed during the event erected in the central cemetery of Weimar. The Nazis demolished it in 1936 when they outlawed the Bauhaus school as subversive and promoting degenerate art but has been since restored. While the suppression of the coup and restoration of the legitimate government was mostly recognised as a victory for the republic and public confidence in their ability to rule, the Kapp Putsch stirred other, more violent uprisings in other regions.
Friday, 13 March 2020
kapp putsch
Thursday, 12 March 2020
march madness
serafina
Sick and bed-ridden, though the aesthetically-minded Fina dei Ciardi (*1238 - †1253) of San Gimignano insisted on being laid up on a wooden pallet for the remainder of her short life after catching a paralytic disease, the subsequently venerated patroness of the Tuscan town reported that the day—today—and hour of her death was prophesied to her by a vision of Pope Gregory the Great, with which the suffering but uncomplaining girl conceded.
Wednesday, 11 March 2020
7x7
inside out & upside-down: hundreds of posters from CalArts students ranging back to 1980
r360: how the coupe and microcar informed Mazda’s design
area rug: custom parametric carpets informed by their settings that really bring the room together
the floor is lava: advice for keeping the cat off the kitchen counters plus an assortment of more humourous tweets
noodles and pandas: innovative ways to discuss the pandemic without attracting the attention of the authorities
happy mutants: Cory Doctorow’s daily curated links—via Waxy
white russians: contemporary fermented dairy drinks
able baker or radiotelephone spelling alphabet
Prior to standarisation efforts in 1959 that resulted in the NATO phonetic alphabet, telegraph operators, wire-services and civilian and military authorities employed a range of some two hundred jargon alphabets for clarity over airwaves that could often come across as garbled or muffled. While many syllabaries contained over-lapping elements, communication between agencies was fraught for confusion assuredly with no definitive source out there.
Tuesday, 10 March 2020
when you gonna give me some time, corona?
Via Boing Boing, following the very practicable and effective admonishment to wash one’s hands for at least twenty-seconds and accompany the act with various suggested tunes to gauge the duration, a clever developer and designer called William Gibson has created a poster-generator that allows one to use their song of choice with the measured lyrics outlining each step as vetted by public health authorities and follow the bouncing ball. What song would you choose to help wash the germs away? Covid-19, oh I swear what he means. At this moment, you mean everything. With you in that dress, my thoughts I confess verge on dirty—ah Covid-19.
yellow jack
While all of Italy is under lockdown conditions forming a cordon sanitaire to medically isolate potential carriers and stop the spread of sickness, it’s worth noting that the term quarantine itself is owing to the Venetian thalassocracy and the best-practises that the city modeled.
From the local dialectical form of quaranta giorni, it refers to the forty day period that ships, cargo and compliment were held in abeyance in order to not transmit the plague, which in a decade’s time in the mid-fourteenth century had claimed thirty percent of the Eurasian population. The safeguard was first developed in Ragusa (Dubrovnik) and confined visitors to an outlying island for a period of thirty days (a trentine) before granting them admission. After avoid the Black Death’s first iteration, the government of Venice moved to extend the restriction by ten more days, which happened to match the course of illness from the bubonic plague from exposure to incubation through to the contagious phase and recovery. In the language of maritime signal flags, the solid yellow banner, Q for Quebec, historically indicated quarantine but now certifies that the vessel is free from communicable disease and requests free pratique—that is, to enter a port. Whereas the above semaphore whilst in harbour, L for Lima, means the ship is under quarantine.