Taking a rather long, meandering afternoon walk now that Spring has arrived, I headed towards the former border and thought to follow the patrol road, the Kolonnenweg to its terminus understanding that there was a large tri-colour marker to be found there. I think I took a wrong turn or failed to go on long enough but came to a rise below the Hohe Schuhe and hill top clearing that provided a good view of Hermannsfeld and the border tower now a monument beyond.
Believing I knew a way to return home without backtracking, I followed a logging trail around the mountain and down into a valley of pastures, which I though was familiar at first but then realised I had gone considerably further out of the way than I had intended and ended up in the fields north of Euรenhausen where the former control point and crossing to Meiningen is conserved as a monument.
Trying to get my bearings and finding a cycle path to follow, I discovered the ruins of a church belfry belonging to a settlement called Elmbach or Ellenbach—vacated along with surrounding property during the era of divided Germany as it was too close to the border (see previously), the ruin a reminder of a sixteenth century desertion but yet a poignant symbol, lonely in the fields whatever the circumstance. The tower houses a chapel and since 1989 has been re-consecrated as a symbol of reunion.
Via Things Magazine, we discover the portfolio of Margarethe Frรถhlich (*1901 - †2001), architectural illustrator and modeller, who created straightforward yet expressive interiors to allow clients to preview their rooms with furnishings. Working in Munich, Prague, London and then New York, Frรถhlich collaborated with Raymond Loewy (previously) and went on to teach at Columbia University. The title refers to the specific foreshortening techniques that allows a viewer to perceive more than one side of an object on a flat surface without overt distortion by skewing the axes and angles. In contrast to the auxiliary view of an ensemble depicted from one of the primary presentations—that is, front, back, left, right bottom or top, an axonometric picture does not privilege any principle axis and instead creates the illusion—the lines of sight—of two in parallel. More to explore at the links above.
The early Baroque adaptation of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice by composer Claudio Monteverdi and librettist Alessandro Striggio premiering on this day in Mantua in 1607 to ring in Carnival season and L’Orfeo is considered one of the first true and fully developed operas.
Presented in five acts, action is split between the fields of Thrace and the Underworld and follows the legendary musician and poet whose song is all to charm all things (speaking to virtuosity of the collaboration, I suppose)—even the stones and beating the Sirens as part of the Argonaut crew beat the Sirens at a sing-off to save them from wrack and ruin—fell in love with the beautify and graceful Eurydice (Wide Justice) and lived a happy but short time together. Calling upon Hymen, the god of matrimony, to bless their union but was foretold that the marriage was to end in tragedy. Fleeing from a lusty shepherd called Aristaeus, Eurydice was bitten by a serpent and died instantly—causing Orpheus great sadness and his outpouring moved the whole world and the heavens towards grief and sorrow. Resolving to descend into Hades to visit his wife, Orpheus was able to tame the fierce Cerberus, the three-headed hound of Hell that prevents the living from entering the realm of the dead. Hades and Persephone, impressed by his playing and devotion, tells Orpheus he can take Eurydice with the caveat that he cannot look upon her until they’ve emerged into the light of day, lest he loose her forever. As a reasonable and patient individual, Orpheus was confident that he could resist temptation and rescue his wife, but as a disembodied shade, Eurydice’s footfalls made no sound, and thinking he was fooled by Hades, turned to check after her. Zeus strikes down the mourning Orpheus with lightning, fearful he might reveal the secrets of the Underworld.
A Hebrew term synonymous with worthless (and unyoked, in the sense of without a master) that became a personification of wickedness and conflated with Satan or others among the host of fallen angels, this sixty-eighth infernal king, created immediately after Lucifer, rules from today through to the end of February—according to the Ars Goetia and other sources that include Belial on the Calendar of Demons—and has the virtue, office of curry political favour and secure titles for the exorcist, for which demands a high tribute. Opposed by the angel Hanhniah, Belial commands eighty legions of spirits.
Far outpacing the usual number of neologisms coined in the German language annually of a couple hundred, the Leibniz Institute for Deutsche Sprache has curated over twelve-hundred new words inspired by COVID-19. In very relatable terminology we have Cornonafrisur (corona hairstyle due to salons being shuttered), Impfneid (vaccine envy), Holistay, Maskenpickel (the equivalent of Masknce), Quarantini, as well as Covidiot and Maskentrottel for a mask simpleton who wears their face covering incorrectly. The actual un-words of the year (see previously) was a toss-up (also the first time more than one was chosen) between Corona-Diktatur and the cynical and euphemistic term Rรผckfรผhrungspatenschaften meaning repatriation sponsorship, an EU policy mechanism that allows member states that refuse to allow in refugees assume responsibility for their deportation and return—something quite counter to what is conveyed with sponsoring another.
Via the always interesting Language Hat, we are referred to a circumspect survey of the names for the six chess pieces in different languages, seventy-eight to be precise. Just a few noteworthy items to compare and contrast, the Rook—usually called a Tower or Fortress in many languages is a ship (ะะฐะดัั́) in Russian, and while the Queen is usually a royal consort and co-equal, the piece is a vizier or viceroy in Arabic, Hindi, Turkish and Russian. The Bishop can also be interpreted as a messenger or runner—from the Latin for cursor. Metonymically, the King was originally the Persian Shah and when under attack by the opposing side, was said to be in check and during the end-game, checkmate—that is, the king is defeated.
First screened on this day in 1951, the cinematic adaptation (one of several) of Nobel Laureate author Henryk Sienkiewicz 1896 eponymous novel, the title, Latin for “Where are you going?” is from the non-canonical Acts of Peter—the apocryphal gospel first relating the account that the Apostle requested to be crucified upside-down (see previously)—was produced by Sam Zimbalist and starred Deborah Kerr, Peter Ustinov and Robert Taylor. Future stars Bud Spencer and Sophia Loren both appear as extras—though uncredited. The film went into general release in theatres on 8 November of the same year. A commercial success and critically acclaimed, the film helped rescue Metro-Goldwyn Mayer from insolvency, Quo Vadis portrays the final years of the Julio-Claudian dynasty and the treatment of Christians that eventually disrupts the Empire’s social order.
