#Gobelins Factory

[arthistoryanimalia]

#WorldCoatiDay: a South American Coati in Louis XIV’s royal menagerie!

1. Pieter Boel (Flemish, 1622-1674), Fouine et Coati, c.1669-71, oil on canvas

2. Detail of the same coati (with African Crested Porcupine) in a tapestry: The Months or the Royal Houses, July, Vincennes; Charles Le Brun (designer) and Gobelins Factory (manufacturer), France, c.1676-80 (Boel’s studies were used as models for the animals in these tapestries)

[duxiaomin-blog]

The Flourishing of Chinoiserie Art and Cultural Fusion: A Historical Dialogue between East and West

In the 13th century, ancient Italy sought to establish trade relations with China during Mongol rule, while both the Pope and Louis IX dispatched envoys to the Yuan Dynasty in hopes of forming alliances, but neither side received much encouraging response. In the early 16th century, a few Portuguese were allowed to reside in Macau and engage in trade with China and Japan. The profits from this trade were enormous, quickly making Lisbon one of the wealthiest cities in Europe, largely demonstrating that trade with the East became one of the most important priorities for all European nations.

Johan Nieuhoff’s Observations and Experiences During His Journey Northward to Beijing

Despite setbacks in trade with the Qing court, the development of Chinese Chinoiserie remained unaffected. Johan Nieuhoff, the steward of the Dutch ambassador, not only documented his journey from Guangdong to Beijing in writing but also meticulously depicted the marvelous scenes he encountered through painting. For the first time, the Great Bao’en Temple in Nanjing was portrayed in detail, becoming one of the most renowned pagodas in Europe. Additionally, he illustrated the imperial gardens of Beijing, serving as prototypes for 18th-century European Chinoiserie gardens. While these paintings depicted Chinese landscapes, they were presented in a Western sketching style, utilizing dense lines to convey light, shadow, and intricate details. They became significant sources for later European Chinoiserie novels and illustrations.

ChuCui Palace Dancing Airglow Earrings

The Chinoiserie continued to thrive, adapting flexibly to changes in fashion trends, making it a enduring theme in the design of everyday items. By the mid-20th century, ChuCui Palace pioneered the combination of Chinoiserie with traditional Chinese brushwork, presenting Western inlay techniques while delving into the complete cultural connotations behind Eastern aesthetics. It became a classic Chinoiserie art form that bridged the historical aesthetic differences centered in Europe.

The artwork “Dancing Airglow” earrings feature an incomplete asymmetric composition typical of Chinoiserie, employing curves to convey the unique sense of movement inherent in Chinoiserie. The full-bodied carp shapes are depicted with slightly exaggerated strokes, capturing the lively and vibrant moment of the carp flicking its tail and leaping. The combination of clear gold and pink-purple hues imbues the carp with auspicious symbolism, while also paying attention to color transitions akin to the meticulous brushwork method. Harmony is achieved with shades of emerald green, resulting in a splendid yet tension-filled color expression.

Unlike traditional ink wash techniques, the artwork diverges by starting with the bold colors typical of Chinese meticulous brushwork, aiming for a slightly exaggerated expression within the realms of color, delicacy, and realism. It is worldly, vibrant, and exudes a sense of present vitality. The dynamic curves of its Chinoiserie seek to embody the Eastern aesthetic sentiment of “a little liveliness is eternal; this liveliness is the universe.”

In European Chinoiserie, tapestries have always been highly favored. In 1690, the Royal factory at Gobelin in Paris produced a series of works titled “Les Tentures des Indes” (The Tapestries of the Indies). These pieces were entirely European in perspective and composition, with only the themes being Eastern, as they depicted exotic scenes such as an Eastern king seated beneath a Chinese umbrella, surrounded by fantastical beasts parading around.

Although the Chinoiserie tapestries of this period were often whimsical or naive, they had become distinctively recognizable. Even though they had not yet evolved into an independent, recognized style, they still differed from Chinese export goods and their direct imitations.

During the reign of Louis XIV, the French tapestry workshops such as Beauvais, Gobelin, and Aubusson undertook the responsibility of the royal tapestry workshops in France. They followed the royal directives and wove tapestry works based on provided designs. During the Baroque to Rococo periods, the Chinoiserie tapestries produced by these workshops garnered significant attention. These large series of tapestries showcased the understanding and imitation of Chinese culture in 17th-18th century France and throughout Europe. These “Chinoiserie” tapestries played a crucial role in the history of cross-cultural exchanges between East and West, as well as in European handicrafts and artistic interests.

Aubusson tapestries in the villa at Anglesey Abbey

Located in the village of Lode, 5.5 miles northeast of Cambridge, England, Anglesey Abbey is a National Trust property where a Aubusson tapestry dating from 1710 to 1740 hangs in the villa. This tapestry is likely an attempt to depict the “wild beauty” of Oriental gardens. The birds, flowers, and trees depicted in the foreground of the tapestry’s garden scene exude an exotic charm, outlining a fantastical rocky structure. Rocks stretch and span across the water, with a pagoda looming in the distance. Such vibrant and dramatic imagery was embraced and popular in early 18th-century theatrical stages and European courts.

The design of the pagoda on the rock bridge in the water is sourced from an illustration in Olfert Dapper’s book “Description of the empire of Taising or China,” published in the Netherlands in 1670. It depicts one of the famous landscapes encountered by a Dutch diplomatic mission on their way to the Chinese capital. This reflects a paradoxical phenomenon within Chinoiserie, wherein European designers and craftsmen, while attempting to emphasize the uniqueness of East Asian landscapes, often chose images from the works of their European counterparts — many of whom had not personally witnessed the scenes they depicted — as their source material.

However, the charm of this tapestry lies in its blended style of Chinoiserie, incorporating not only the Chinese elements of “wild beauty” and “naturalism” but also influences from the Flemish and French “Verdure” tapestry traditions. In 16th-century Europe, the tapestry trade was largely centered in France and Flanders, with towns like Oudenaarde, Brussels, Herdesbergen, and Enghien in Flanders becoming hubs for tapestry production in Europe. The “Verdure tapestries,” also known as “Garden tapestries,” were particularly favored by European royalty and nobility during the 16th century. They featured dense green vegetation, exotic flowers, birds, animals, and fruits. This influence imbued the tapestry with Western chiaroscuro, rich and intricate patterns and colors, and grand, painting-like compositions.

This series of cultural exchanges and artistic creations showcases the dialogue and fusion between East and West throughout the course of history. From ancient Italy to early 16th-century Portuguese trade, to the paintings of Dutch ambassadors and the Chinoiserie art of ChuCui Palace, Chinese Chinoiserie flourished in Europe like a tide. The emergence of tapestries, such as those produced by Beauvais, Gobelin, and Aubusson, bore witness to the imitation and understanding of Eastern culture. The Aubusson tapestry at Anglesey Abbey, with its exotic garden landscapes, exhibits the dreamy charm of “wild beauty.” What sets Chinoiserie art apart is its portrayal of “worldly vivacity,” blending the dynamic momentum of Eastern styles with the delicacy and realism of the West. In these works, we see not only art but also the transcendence of culture and history. These paintings, tapestries, and earrings are not only artworks but also witnesses to the exchange between East and West. Their existence allows us to perceive the continuity of history and the brilliance of culture.

[lilblueorchid]

I’m currently on an internship so not really new stuff but have industrial background researchs I made for a film project last year. It was different from my usual stuff so I still kinda like it. 

[lanachoukroune]

Layout exercise at gobelins

[mythologer]

Glaucus and Scylla, circa 1640–1644 by Laurent de La Hyre.

The sea god Glaucus pulls aside his beard, revealing Cupid's arrow protruding from his chest. Looking up, he sees the maiden Scylla on a rocky cliff and pronounces his love for her. Laurent de La Hyre represented a romantic scene from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Glaucus rises from the sea with an elegant, curling white beard, a muscular torso, and a scaly tail that unwinds among the reeds. Clad only in crumpled white and red drapery gathered around her waist, Scylla leans forward, gesturing with her hand. Behind her, Cupid looks ready to let loose another arrow. La Hyre used soft pinks in the sky and delicate hues of blue in the water, in contrast to the vivid green used for the reeds and foliage. The painting was intended as a design for a tapestry series woven by the Gobelins factories and representing the loves of the gods.

[frozenwolftemplar]

Happy accident find: this was also returned for my ‘Actaeon’ search.

I will always be in awe of tapestries like this. For one, the amount of detail. I highly recommend you check out this beauty’s listing on the Met website (link below, as always); they have a viewer where you can zoom in and just be in awe of the d e t a i l s. The shading, the rich colors, the way every single freakin’ leaf has definition; and it’s. All. Woven. Someone was changing thread colors with nearly every stitch! 

For seconds, the border. They didn’t *have* to make it as elaborate as they did, but they did. It doesn’t repeat. There’s a monkey. There’s a scarlet macaw. There are birds that are but one shade off from the surrounding border and you would miss if you weren’t looking closely. Amazing.

For lasts, the size. Almost eleven feet high. Fifteen feet long. This thing’s a behemoth. And even though it was made by a French factory, in the late 17th-early 18th centuries there was no way they were using machinery to do the job.

So, yeah: awe.

TLDR: this thing rocks.

Manufacture Nationale des Gobelins. (Designed before 1680, woven late 17th-early 18th century). Diana and Actaeon, from a set of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Retrieved from: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/204484 

[everyonewasabird]

Brickclub 4.2.4 ‘An apparition to Marius’

I’m not managing to pinpoint exactly where Marius is sitting, but it’s around here. This is what at the time was the southernmost corner of Paris, close to the Barriere d’Italie. The Rue de Croulebarbe runs up the middle of this image, and the Rue du Champ du Allouette runs north-ish to the west of it. The Rue de la Santé, though, also runs north, off to the west of both of them. I’m not sure exactly where he is, though, because Santé doesn’t intersect with the others. The Gobelins factory, which made tapestries and furnishings, is up at the top, along with the Bièvre river it was built on, which must be near the smaller stream Marius is sitting by.

He heard behind and below him, on both banks of the stream, the washerwomen of the Gobelins beating their linen; and over his head, the birds chattering and singing in the elms. On the one hand the sound of liberty, of happy unconcern, of winged leisure; on the other, the sound of labour. A thing which made him muse profoundly, and almost reflect, these two joyous sounds.

Two joyous sounds. Jeez.

This is Bad. Champmathieu’s daughter was a washerwoman who died young. Hugo isn’t letting us off with not knowing what this job was like:

“Then I had my daughter, who was a washerwoman at the river. She earned a little for herself; between us two, we got on; she had hard work too. All day long up to the waist in a tub, in rain, in snow, with wind that cuts your face when it freezes, it is all the same, the washing must be done; there are folks who haven't much linen and are waiting for it; if you don't wash you lose your customers. The planks are not well matched, and the water falls on you everywhere. You get your clothes wet through and through; that strikes in. She washed too in the laundry of the Enfants-Rouges, where the water comes in through pipes. There you are not in the tub. You wash before you under the pipe, and rinse behind you in the trough. This is under cover, and you are not so cold. But there is a hot lye that is terrible and ruins your eyes. She would come home at seven o'clock at night, and go to bed right away, she was so tired. Her husband used to beat her. She is dead.”

Marius continues to profoundly miss the point.

Anyway, he’s caught between the goblin and the lark, not that he’s paying any attention to the goblin.

Hugo does a nice job making his brain-state clear. Marius sits down to work every day, and nothing is connecting in his head, and he can’t make it happen. It’s sad and frustrating that his depression compounds his usual lack observation skills to make him even less able to perceive Eponine. But it’s understandable.

Poor Eponine. Hugo is being weird about her having become more beautiful, but I’m going to give him a tentative pass for now. There’s a decent chance this is about this book’s usage of beauty as internal illumination rather than outward appearance, and he’s alluding at least partially to the moral transformation she’s been undergoing.

“She had, in addition to her former expression, that mixture of fear and sorrow which the experience of a prison adds to misery.”

With Brujon, going to prison was just another Thursday, but we haven’t left behind the world Jean Valjean came from, where going to prison changes a person in permanent and terrible ways. Eponine has been changed that way.

Marius is overjoyed at the news that he can see Cosette, because of course he is.

His plot isn’t happening the way plots are “supposed” to happen--character wants something, character takes steps to go and get it, complications ensue--and I think that’s on purpose. Marius is missing all the things that matter, and failing to take the actions that would make a difference. He’s squeaking by largely on the advantages birth and chance gave him--social class, manners, education, good looks, absolutely magical friends, etc--and that’s enough to get him the girl and the happy ending.

I’m not blaming him--his mental illness isn’t his fault. But he’s an unsatisfying character to follow because he’s meant to be. He keeps missing all the things this book stands for, and which the reader in his stead is being strongly encouraged not to miss in their own life.

And Eponine is experiencing the moral reckoning and burgeoning agency that seems structurally like it should have been his. She’s lied for him, she’s made moral judgments for the first time in her life, she’s noticed people in pain and been kind.

And this chapter, she’s weighing being selfless to someone she cares about because he’s sad and she wants to make him happy, even though it will lose her any chance at the thing she most wants.

And she does it. But even when she’s being selfless, she asserts her own dignity. She draws the line between their social classes herself, rather than seeing how much he will and won’t give her, and she refuses to let him make this exchange into something she did for money.

ETA: GOD, I just noticed that Gillenormand’s rooms are decorated in Gobelins tapestries. I don’t know, I can’t quite lay out the metaphor succinctly, but it feels important. There’s such a stark divide here with Marius benefiting from Eponine’s goblin status and from hers and other people’s labor, and he doesn’t even notice that there *was* sacrifice or labor.

[fremedon]

Brickclub 4.2.4, “Marius’s Visitation”

Marius has stopped working--the text of 4.2.1 says he had done this even before the ambush--and while some of Hugo’s laudatory prose about work is just Hugo being gross, not working seems to be both a symptom and a contributing factor to Marius’s depression, in the way these things often go:

As soon as he got up in the morning, he would sit down in front of a book ans a sheet of paper to dash off some translation [...] read four lines, try to write one, not succeed, he would see a star that came asterisk-like between himself and the page, and he would rise from his chair, saying “I’ll go out. That will get me started.”

[...]

He would come home, try to resume his work, and fail. Impossibly to repair a single one of the broken threads in his brain. Then he would say to himself, “I shan’t go out tomorrow. It stops me working.” And he would go out every day.

That is sure one Big Depression Mood there.

His wandering thoughts, turning to reproach, came back to himself. He reflected dolefully on the idleness, paralysis of spirit, that was overtaking him, and on the darkness before him, growing denser moment by moment so that already he could not even see the sun any more.

Yet, through this painful emergence of hazy notions that did not even constitute a monologue, so debilitated was his capacity for action, which he no longer had even the strength of will to lament any more, through this melancholy self-absorbtion sensations from the outside world did reach him.

He is explicitly not even able to monologue or to complain. Once again, he is not even meeting Grantaire’s standards.

And the sensations reaching him from outside are the sound of birds (fine) and of the Gobelins laundresses beating their linen, and Marius becomes pensive over how joyous both sounds seem to him.

Having lost the ability for action and agency to the extent he has, I can kind of see how the sound of people at work might seem just as inaccessible to him as the sound of birds in flight--but we’re still in the neighborhood of the Boulevard de l’Hôpital, where Champmathieu’s daughter was a laundress--possibly even for the Gobelins factory. This is horrible, backbreaking labor, and for Marius it’s just part of the scenery.

It is in this state that Eponine finds him. She has gained some of the moral beauty that characters in this book can have--breaking with her father has given her some glimmer of hope and made her seem closer to her actual age, despite being two months more ragged and filthy. She reaches out to Marius, offering to show him Cosette’s house knowing that it will only make her jealous and sad, but that it will make Marius happy:

And Marius--oof.

She withdrew her hand and went on in a tone of voice that would have cut to the heart anyone watching--but Marius, now enraptured, in transports of delight, did not even notice-- “Oh, how happy you are!” 

And, when she in turn is so delighted by being called by her name that she doesn’t respond immediately to Marius’s injunction not to tell her father, Marius--seizes her and shakes her:

Marius held her by both arms.

“For heaven’s sake, answer me! Listen to what I’m saying. Swear to me you won’t tell your father the address that you know!”

“My father?” she said. “Ah, yes, my father! You needn’t worry. He’s locked up. In any case, as if I care about my father!”

“But you haven’t promised!” exclaimed Marius.

 “Now let go of me!” she said with a burst of laughter. “You’re shaking me so hard. Yes, yes, I promise! I swear! What’s it to me? I won’t tell my father the address. There! Satisfied? Is that what you wanted?” 

I have to say, if Marius had killed Cosette and himself, instead of just slinking off to commit suicide by barricade, no one could say Hugo hadn’t foreshadowed it.

And also... I can’t help thinking this is yet another fate that Eponine has traded with another character. She and Cosette have their zero-sum game, where every one of Cosette’s gains in fortune and love is countered by a loss for Eponine. She trades the drowning death foreshadowed for her with Javert, and is shot at the barricade as he was meant to be. And she has the romantic murder-suicide with Marius that the book teases lies in store for Marius and Cosette.

Eponine is two months shy of the age of criminal responsibility. She and Cosette being mostly of an age, that means she must be not quite sixteen. It’s now right around the middle of March. If Cosette was conceived on the date of Waterloo, as we suspect, then her birthday is right about now, and Eponine is two months younger, but I didn’t find anything around mid-August of 1815 that seems similarly significant for her conception. Louis the XVIII had returned to Paris in July; the closest thing I could find was August 7, the day Napoleon was transferred to the Northumberland to begin his second exile.

[dutch-and-flemish-painters]

Pieter Boel and Abraham van Diepenbeek - Lion Hunting - 1660s

Pieter Boel or Peeter Boel (baptized on 10 October 1622 – 3 September 1674) was a Flemish painter, printmaker and tapestry designer. He specialised in lavish still lifes and animal paintings. He moved to Paris, where he worked in the gobelin factory and became a painter to the king. Pieter Boel revolutionized animal painting by working directly from live animals in a natural setting. He thus arrived at representations of animals showing them in their natural, characteristic poses. He had many followers in France.

Abraham van Diepenbeeck (9 May 1596 (baptised) – between May and September 1675) was an erudite and accomplished Dutch painter of the Flemish School.

[harvard-art-museums-drawings]

The Marquis de Villacerf Viewing Tapestries at the Gobelins Factory, Sébastien Le Clerc the Elder, 1691-1694, Harvard Art Museums: Drawings

Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Bequest of Frances L. Hofer Size: 12 x 23.9 cm (4 3/4 x 9 7/16 in.) Medium: Red and black chalk, gray and red-chalk wash, and touches of brown wash on cream antique laid paper, framing lines and guidelines in red chalk, laid down on off-white paper, laid down on a decorated mount, laid down on blue-green wove paper

https://www.harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/295249

[galleryofunknowns]

Attributed to Adam Frans van der Meulen (b.1632 - d.1690), 'Portrait of a Gentleman on Horseback', oil on canvas, no date (1600s), Flemish, for sale est. 10,000 - 15,000 GBP in Christie's Old Master Paintings & Sculpture sale, July 2020.

In the years following the Treaty of Münster (1648) Adam van der Meulen left the Southern Netherlands for Paris, where, from April 1664, he was in the service of Louis XIV. This appointment was due to Charles Le Brun, who was then head of the Gobelins tapestry factory in Paris, with whom van der Meulen collaborated on the project for a series of tapestries on the History of Louis XIV. He was mainly responsible for the images of Louis XIV’s military campaigns and conquests, themes in which van der Meulen specialised over the years. The handling of the horse and figure can be compared to equestrian portraits such as a signed work by van der Meulen of A View of Saint-Germain-en-Laye with Louis XIV accompanied by Turenne at the Palace of Versailles (inv. no. 2144). (x)

[arthistorydaily]

Moonlight and Fishing Boats, Maximilien Luce, Camaret, France, 1894

Saint Louis Art Museum

Provenance: Museum Purchase.

28 1/2 x 36 1/4 in. (72.4 x 92.1 cm)

Maximilien Luce (1858 - 1941) was a prolific French Neo-impressionist artist, known for his paintings, illustrations, engravings, and graphic art, and also for his anarchist activism. 

In 1872, the fourteen-year-old Luce became an apprentice with wood-engraver Henri-Théophile Hildebrand (1824–1897). During his three-year xylography apprenticeship, he also took night classes in drawing from instructors Truffet and Jules-Ernest Paris (1827–1895). 

During this period, Luce started painting in oils. He moved with his family to the southern Paris suburb of Montrouge. His art education continued as he attended drawing classes taught by Diogène Maillard (1840–1926) at the Gobelins tapestry factory.

[text source: @wikipedia] 

[clarencewardartlibrary]

Color Theory: Chevreul & Albers

Some of Josef Albers’ color studies from Interaction of Color. [source]

The Clarence Ward Art library has a large color theory collection including many important primary works, including two of the best known texts in this field: M.E. Chevreul’s The Principles of Harmony and Contrast of Colours and Josef Albers’ Interaction of Color.

A professional chemist and director of dyeing at the royal Gobelin tapestry factory, Chevreul encountered problems matching woven colored yarn. Through careful analysis he determined the problems were not related to the quality of the yarn, the chemical composition of the dyes or the dyeing process, but by the difference in perception of color when it was isolated versus when it was being woven. Chevreul developed his law of “Simultaneous Contrast” based on careful observation of the effects of juxtaposing colors: two colors placed side by side will appear to change in hue, tonal value, and saturation; their dissimilar qualities will be intensified and similar qualities muted.

Chevreul’s findings were revolutionary for the field of art, textiles, gardening, etc. They are also the entire basis for Josef Albers’ Interaction of Color, which contains visual examples based on the principles detailed by Chevreul.

In the book’s introduction, Albers says,

The book Interaction of Color presents, besides an explanatory text, 81 folders with more than 200 sample studies showing a new way of teaching color, of studying color.

Below are some examples of his studies along with Alber’s commentary:

“This bright study [above] is more or less self-explanatory. 3 unconnected vertical bars of different deep colors are crossed by 3 separate horizontal bars of 1 and the same light color.  Within their crossings appear 9 illusionary mixtures. The 3 lower ones are dominated by the same light color and therefore appear on top of the darker verticals. The 3 upper mixtures are dominated by the 3 different deep colors which therefore appear on top of the light color. In the middle horizontal bar, all colors meet on 1 and the same level.

Over 4 tints a shadow is cast, through transformation into a lower key.  By reversing the left study, a light is cast, as in a transformation study into a higher key. If the lightening up appears the same for all shades, it proves that the solution at left is correct.

These studies are not copies in the usual understanding of replicas… They purposely neglect many details and may even appear in changed keys of light and temperature. They are consciously condensed records of a personal notation of a painting’s color instrumentation, or, in usual terms, of its palette and color relatedness.

Source: Albers, Josef. Interaction of Color. Yale University Press, 1963.

[rgr-pop]

1) omg 

2) this tweet of mine is still fuckin funny

3) from regina lee blaszczyk’s the color revolution:

For the next 20 years, Munsell dedicated himself to creating a practical color system for art and commerce. Aesthetic reform—the “improvement” of American taste—was his ultimate goal. Manufacturers could make fabrics, leather, paints, and inks in an endless variety of colors, but taste had yet to catch up with technology. “The gaudiest colors are found in the cheapest stores,” Munsell noted, while “in the homes of cultivation and refinement, one finds tempered color.” Munsell believed this great divide in taste, and the general visual chaos of the day, stemmed from a lack of color education and a paucity of good design tools. There was no universal language for describing color, no standard curriculum in color theory, and no mechanism for coordinating colors across merchandise categories

As a student at the École des beaux-arts in Paris, Munsell had read Michel-Eugène Chevreul’s books and had visited Chevreul at Gobelins. He planned for his system to popularize the subtle “middle colors,” hence improving mass taste and advancing human progress. His invention consisted of a notation system for describing the appearance of a color in three dimensions à la Chevreul: hue, value, and chroma. His nomenclature was meant to be used as a teaching tool in the classroom or as a design tool in the factory or store. He created the Munsell Color System as a one-stop solution to everyone’s color needs. It included printed color charts, spinning tops and spheres, colored papers, pencils, and crayons, and a patented photometer. In addition, he wrote three books that explained the underlying principles: A Color Notation, Atlas of the Color-Solid, and Color Balance Illustrated. There was no stopping the march of chemistry, but the Munsell Color System was one tastemaker’s effort to stave off “color anarchy.”

i did know that there were people trying to promote the use of munsell’s system and, i mean, you will always hear me say that the color wheel isn’t not ideological, but it’s just very funny. it does seem like it is more useful than all of its competitors in some contexts but it was also literally invented because a guy was scared that saturated colors were gonna poison the race, lol. so...yeah, hurus will love it. from his book:

Quiet Color is the Mark of Good Taste. Refinement in dress and the furnishings of the home is attractive, but we shrink from those who are “loud” in their speech or their clothing. If we wish our children to become well-bred, is it logical to begin by encouraging barbarous tastes? Their young minds are very open to suggestion. They quickly adopt our standards, and the blame must fall upon us if they acquire crude color habits. Yellow journalism and rag-time tunes will not help their taste in speech or song, nor will violent hues improve their taste in matters of color.

i have some issues with blaszczyk’s book (i really want it to be more than classical business history, but it is not), but that chapter (”anarchy”) in particular was really illuminating to me re: the construction and politics of “color theory,” and in that sense i’d recommend it. i don’t think it’s the best work of color history, maybe, i’d like to read more. she was probably the first historian of color commerce i had ever read though, a big name.

[acrosscenturiesandgenerations]

▪Combat between Menelaus and Paris.

Makers/Manufacturers: Charles Le Brun (France, 1619-1690); Royal Aubusson Workshops (France, established 1665); Gobelin Tapestry Factory (France, active from 1662); Raphael (Italy, 1483-1520)

Place of origin: Belgium, Brussels

Date: ca. 1740

Medium: Wool and silk tapestry weave

[highlifestyleindia]

For its menswear show on Saturday, Hermes sent out models dressed in polo shirts with seahorse patterns, sparkly windbreakers in brilliant colours, and substantial travel bags for a summer getaway.

The show began with a sweater depicting a brilliant sunset and was held in the outdoor gardens of the Gobelins tapestry factory in the heart of Paris. A mocking allusion to the cloudy skies over Paris, it was worn with a pair of black shorts and neoprene sandals.

What followed was a series of simple shorts and pants, technical canvas jackets in lilac, pink, and orange, zippered straight blousons, and cashmere high-neck sweaters.

The Haut a courroies bags, which are the forerunners of the legendary Kelly and Birkin handbags, were casually carried by models and appeared to sprout from the ends of their arms.

The iconic bag was given a more modern makeover with a distorted check pattern after being initially created in the early 20th century to carry horse saddles and riding gear.

As stated in the show notes, Veronique Nichanian, who has been in charge of the men's line since 1988—an eternity in the rapidly evolving world of fashion—sought to evoke a "feeling of lightness that makes you float in the sunshine."

Paris Fashion Week includes presentations from lesser-known brands like Ami read more and Office Generale in addition to the grandees of French fashion like Dior, Chanel, and Celine.