the shape of water

This meditative, pioneering 1929 “cinepoem” that explores water on film in a its states and excitations by photographer and filmmaker Ralph Steiner strikes me as a forerunner to those strangely alluring, repetitive autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR) videos that galvanise some viewers with a tactile frisson. “H₂O” is one of the earliest art shorts to come out of America and is accompanied in the version at the linked article to a score by William Pearson commissioned by Æon magazine (the original below is silent), and early works such as this have inspired whole genres of filmmaking. Learn more and find much more to explore at the link above.

add a caption, if you like

Via the Daily Dot, we discover that a Twitter bot accrues the work’s granularity by apprising and apportioning with posts sections of Hieronymus Bosch’s triptych, The Garden of Earthly Delights (previously), as the title bestowed on a late fifteenth-century oil painted succession of oak panels and is proving itself to be an accomplished meme-maker by inviting followers to examine the details to be found within this fantastic and vast allegory.  Whilst art historians might still be puzzling over the artist’s message and symbolism, the internet has no such qualms about opening itself up to interpretation.
While there may not be any synthesis yet and we find our criticisms and sensibilities confronted and with informed by no corroborating explanation, we still manage to eke meaning of these small parcels of characters. I wonder if that was the artists intent.  Let us know what these weird vignettes signify to you.

6x6

that’s like comparing apples and mass shootings: idioms updated for American contemporary culture

store brand: Christmas advertisement aimed to educate the public on habitat-loss due to palm-oil plantations banned for being “too political”

across the stars: John Williams’ fresh arrangement for the Star Wars prequels—which if nothing else continued the tradition of arch and on point scores

perhaps not forty-two after all: the answer to the ultimate question of life, the Universe and everything is instead one hundred and thirty-seven, the fine-structure constant that haunted Richard Feynmann and Wolfgang Pauli—via Strange Company

sacred and profane architecture: this is the church you go to when God is in the volcano forging a ring of power, a Twitter thread via Art of Darkness

bauhaus 100: the next instalment profiling Herbert Bayer who helped create a universal typographic identity for the movement

waffenstillstand

Previous ceasefire agreements already had pulled out belligerents Bulgaria, the Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman empires from the fighting but the Armistice of 11 November 1918 (the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month) formally ended the Great War with Imperial Germany’s defeat and withdrawal jenseits the Rhein, holding the peace until the Treaty of Versailles could be negotiated.
 

 

Terms of what was technically not a surrender to the Allied powers were largely determined by Supreme Allied Commander Marshal Ferdinand Foch and parties to the truce were transported incognito across war-torn northern France to the marshal’s private carriage on a secluded railway siding in the Forest of Compiègne and representatives came to an agreement and signed pre-dawn—with the armistice effective noon German time, eleven o’clock in Paris (France was on Greenwich Mean Time until World War II when it came under German occupation and decided not to switch back afterwards).
 

From the field, there was a sense of relief and hope but little jubilation as fifty-two months of fierce fighting and over seventeen million lives lost had left many hollow and exhausted. This post has featured a few images from our visit to the memorial site in the summer of 2008. I remember that being the year that the last surviving veterans passed away and the war slipped from living memory.  The act of contrition and cooperation was later characterised as betrayal and facilitated the rise of more terrors but for now there is peace and that is holy.

tmz

Sadly, as Paleofuture reports, the Paramount Ranch, the location of a number of large scale-sets that was a major actor in a number of film and television productions since its 1927 acquisition as a film ranch—falling within the traditional bounds of the studio zone, a thirty-mile zone (TMZ) that radiates out from West Beverly in Los Angeles and an easy drive from Hollywood—has been engulfed by the Woolsey wildfire, sustaining significant damage. The allure of this spot, backdrop for 1981’s Reds and 1968’s Herbie the Love Bug plus many others and numerous television shows like Westworld, The Bachelor and Doctor Quinn: Medicine Woman was that it was also open for public inspection, provided that nothing was filming at the time. Wildfires devastating the region are burning California from both ends, with at least twenty-five fatalities and thousands of homes and businesses burned.

i want my lavender spats, and in addition to them, i want my honey-coloured gusset with the herringbone hem

Having been a reader of Damn Interesting for many years, I was pleased to find that they’ve significantly revamped their website and their investigations into the weird and wonderful and now for your convenience, their stories are narrated and syndicated in podcast format (est’d in 2012).
Having a vague memory of seeing this movie on television when I was pretty young, I was pleased to have the details limned in (though still so many questions) behind the making of Theodore Geisel’s (Doctor Seuss’) only feature, the Technicolor, 1953 musical fantasy The Five Thousand Fingers of Doctor T. Granted the chance to make a full-length film after the award-winning success of his featurette Gerald McBoing-Boing, the author came to describe the undertaking as a most debaculous fiasco. Though Seuss’ style could be seen in the costuming, choreography and set-designs, the majority of the musical numbers were cut—the best one in the score, the Dressing Song (Do-mi-Do-Duds) that is quite in the same spirit as Mister Burns’ See My Vest from “Two Dozen and One Greyhounds” was kept in—and the screenplay went through so many rewrites that Seuss’ original themes of dominance, oppression and austerity that marked the world recently were also excised. Despite later enjoying somewhat of a revival as a cult-classic, Seuss disowned the film and didn’t mention it in his biography, eliding to his string of successful book adaptations that were to follow.