Curio Cabinet

Title: The Newbus Ox
Artist: Thomas Weaver (1774-1843)
Created: 1812
Medium: mezzotint with hand coloring on moderately thick cream wove paper
Dimensions: 17.75 x 23.6 in (45.1 x 60 cm)
Current location: Yale Center for British Art, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut
 

Lord Dundas didn't need a sports car; when he felt like boasting about his personal fortune, the 19th-century British landowner showed off his Newbus Ox. In the 1700s and 1800s, England's elite commissioned landscape paintings of their large cattle, which were considered a sign of wealth. Living in a pre-Facebook world provided one major benefit: proud lords and dukes often asked artists to fudge a little bit, making their prize steers look bigger than they were in real life. The Victorian ideal of bovine health may appear strange to modern eyes: people thought huge, rectangular cattle looked healthiest, which is exactly what artist Thomas Weaver delivered with his painting of the Newbus Ox (above). The left side of the work shows food pellets being placed in front of the ox, emphasizing the owner's commitment to the animal's growth. The ox itself puts Arnold Schwarzenegger to shame with its bulbous torso and muscled hind quarters; we wonder how it supported itself on its stick-like legs! Images of big cattle were popular with the general public; a drawing of the popular Durham Ox was even placed on dinner plates and other household items. Maybe we should call the former British Empire the Cow-monwealth?
 

Below: the Durham ox, which weighed 3,000 pounds. When the ox was toured through Britain, it drew crowds of people.
 

Image credit & copyright: Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection
 

South African photographer Daniel Naudé may not be a cowboy, but he's certainly got a passion for cattle. Naudé traveled to Uganda in 2012 to photograph the long-horned Ankole cattle (including the one above). The species has been considered sacred for centuries; in the 1700s, Ankole with the biggest horns were set aside for royalty, earning the breed the name "cattle of the kings." Prized for their rich, creamy milk, which Ugandans used to make yogurt and butter, they were rarely slaughtered. But in recent years, cross-breeding to boost milk production has reduced the number of pure Ankole; they're projected to go extinct within the next four decades. Before they fade out, Naudé wanted to document the majestic faces and unusual, crescent moon-shaped prongs that have earned them the reverence of local communities. His candid shots portray the creatures in various moods: some images show a herd of serious-looking Ankole, while others capture a sole creature being playful. After photographing the Ankole, Naudé traveled to India and Madagascar to explore other holy cattle breeds. In 2016, his moving images were published as a collection called Sightings of the Sacred. We're praying we can get our hands on a copy!
 

Below: a herd of Ankole cattle in Uganda; a cow in India's Tamil Nadu region whose horns have been painted blue in preparation for a religious festival; the photographer gets an eyeful in Madagascar.
 

Image credit & copyright: Daniel Naudé / Prestel
 

Title: Untitled
Artist: Karla Piper
Created: c. 2016-2017
Medium: motor agate
Current location: Siesta Silver Jewelry
 

Wowza… a stone with ripples like that can make the heart race. Since 2016, entrepreneur Karla Piper and her company Siesta Silver Jewelry have been marketing "fordite" gems: curious stones with origins in retired automobile paint shops. Named after car producer Henry Ford—who died this month in 1947—the stones were created when factory workers power sprayed overlapping layers of paint onto cars (without masks!). The surplus paint pooled underneath chassis and cloyed onto handrails, before it was heated and solidified. After the cars were conveyed along, auto workers were told to remove and discard the residual dried paint chunks, but a few held on to the substance and cured gems of it. From the '30s through the '70s, these stones were pretty much worthless; but that is changing. Nowadays, Piper's above fordite pendant sells for just under $200—and is expected to appreciate in value. Since the handheld spray techniques that created fordite were rendered obsolete in the '80s, its shrinking supply is going faster than a '67 Mustang at full throttle!
 

Below: more images of polished and rough Fordite.
 

Image credit & copyright: Siesta Silver Jewelry / Karla Piper / MininGeology / Fordite.com
 

Girl power! Photographer Rania Matar creates striking, evocative portraits of girls and women at every stage of life. In her work, she is particularly interested in transitional periods, like adolescence and middle age. Yasmine 12, Beirut, Lebanon, 2012, above, depicts a girl balancing on the thin edge between child and adulthood. Engulfed in stereotypical trappings of femininity (furry throw, fandom pillows, nail polish), Yasmine is still chubby-faced and childish; we can easily imagine her abandoning her quiet pose and running out to play. At the same time, like the girls in the photos below, her gaze is direct—if slightly wary; all these girls have clearly seen something of life, despite their youth. Matar was born in Lebanon and emigrated to the U.S. in 1984; she takes photographs in both countries, but believes that most of the issues women face are universal. Matar didn't intentionally set out to make girls and women her primary focus, though. She suspects her work evolved in that direction because she lost her own mother when she was only three and is fascinated by the concept of motherhood. "In a way, I photograph all my subjects as if they were my daughters," she says—which likely explains the warm and unsentimentally intimate nature of the images she creates.  

The exhibit In Her Image: Photographs by Rania Matar is on display at the Amon Carter Museum of American Art in Fort Worth, Texas, through June 17th.
 

Below: Maryam 9, Beirut, Lebanon, 2011, and Samira 15, Bourj El Barajneh Refugee Camp, Beirut Lebanon, 2015.
 

Image credit & copyright: Rania Matar, Robert Klein Gallery; C. Grimaldis Gallery
 

Three days after Robert F. Kennedy was shot on June 5, 1968, photographer Paul Fusco boarded the train that would carry the senator's body from New York to Washington D.C. Fusco was on assignment for Look magazine to cover RFK's burial at Arlington Cemetery. As the convoy traveled south, he was astonished to see quiet crowds lining up along the tracks to pay their respects. Fusco opened his window and began shooting photos. In images like Untitled, above, still figures appear against a blurred background, their shock and sadness deftly captured in the moment the train rushed by. Coming just two months after Martin Luther King, Jr.'s slaying and five years after his brother's assassination, Kennedy's murder stunned the country. He'd announced his run for the presidency just months before, and was killed right after winning the California primary. For many, his candidacy sparked optimism for the future; as Senator, he supported civil rights, traveled to impoverished regions of the country, and spoke out against the war in Vietnam. His death helped pave the way for Richard Nixon's election, ushering in the escalation of the war and the Watergate scandal. Of course, the people who gathered to see the funeral train had no idea what lay ahead. They'd just come to say a simple goodbye.  

The Train: RFK's Last Journey will be showing at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art through June 10, 2018.

 
Below: more photos from the funeral train by Paul Fusco.

 

Image credit & copyright: Photographs by Paul Fusco, Magnum Photos; Courtesy Danziger Gallery
 

Title: Spring Veils
Artist: Edna Andrade (1917-2008)
Created: 1973
Medium: acrylic on canvas
Dimensions: 96 x 96 in (243.8 x 243.8 cm)
Current location: The Metropolitan Art Museum, New York City, New York
 

Ah... look at that wonderful symmetry! Optical Art painters typically tailor their works to fool viewers' eyes with trippy illusions of motion. But Edna Andrade—the foremother of Op Art, who died this day in 2008—prized geometric harmony above all else. For her 1973 Spring Veils, Andrade patterned vertical waves that transition, left to right, from pastel gray to delicate browns. Topping off the piece is a column of golden orbs that appear to float before the illusory background. The simple yet calculated arrangement of soothing shapes and colors induces a meditative effect. Andrade's goal in her mathematical works was to use geometry and color theory to create abstract interpretations of nature's ratios and rhythms. Though many of her works, like Marriage Hall (below), look like sci-fi holograms, they are built on those natural ratios (e.g., the Golden Ratio of 1 to 1.618). In regard to her art, she once said: "It's not like showing your emotion. It's a decision to be totally visual. A story doesn't go with it." So, after a long day of work, what better way is there to unwind and empty one's mind than gazing at some peaceful Andrades?
 

More: other works by Andrade, including: Parade (1959), Marriage Hall (1986), and Desert Storm 1 (1982).
 

Image credit & copyright: Locks Gallery
 

Title: Tall dark green incised vase
Artist: George E. Ohr (1857-1918)
Created: c. 1900
Medium: Fired and painted clay
 

His contemporaries may have thought him a crackpot, but George E. Ohr remained confident as he pursued an artistic vision half a century ahead of its time. The so-called "Mad Potter of Biloxi," who died 100 years ago this month, was an eccentric sculptor who completely broke away from 19th-century ceramic traditions. Take his untitled Tall dark green incised vase, above; while it may look commonplace to our modern eyes, Ohr hand-threw the pot for far longer than his contemporaries—forming wild and expressive shapes, like the vase's quasi-transparent spout. His masterful glazing also allowed him to produce the rich, amber veins that run down the neck. Unfortunately, critics pigeonholed Ohr's flamboyant pottery as a mere gimmick; his windswept mustache and penchant for handstands didn't help his case. But Ohr had foreseen the future. In his own words: "When I am gone, my work will be praised, honored, and cherished." Generations later, an antique collector discovered 7,000 of Ohr's artworks lying around in a garage during the '60s; it wasn't long before acclaimed artists like Jasper Johns and Andy Warhol were dropping thousands of dollars on them. Not so gimmicky now, huh?
 

Below: more works by Ohr, including: Very tall, mottled two-handled vase, c. 1900; and Light-colored mottled teapot, c. 1900. Bottom: the "Mad Potter" himself.
 

Image credit & copyright: Phillip Ennis / Courtesy of the Ohr-O’Keefe Museum of Art
 

Rain or shine, the Commonwealth Games audience would not be deterred from their goal of watching their favorite swimmers compete. The 2018 Commonwealth Games are taking place in Queensland, on Australia's Gold Coast, from April 4th through 17th. It's an event similar to the Summer Olympics, where athletes come together every four years to represent their home countries and compete for medals—but participation is restricted to the Commonwealth of Nations, which comprises 53 current and former British territories. This crowd of waterproof poncho-clad viewers had a lot to cheer about; in spite of the unfavorable weather, their native Australians took home 28 gold medals—with 73 medals total—for swimming programs. It's a good sign for Australian swimmers looking to compete in the 2020 Summer Olympics in Tokyo, even if the skies did rain on their reign!
 

Image credit & copyright: Quinn Rooney / Getty Images
 

Wow… is that a still frame from Blade Runner? German photographer and design director Mark Siegemund uses his aerial drone to photograph Shanghai's rapidly-evolving, futuristic cityscape during dusk and dawn. Shown above, the heart of the swelling metropolis is divided into two parts: on one side of the Huangpu River is the towering Pudong financial district (foreground), and on the other, an old sector called Puxi (background). In Puxi, there are ancient walkways and pagoda roofs; in Pudong, loom skyscrapers like the 2,073-foot-tall Shanghai Tower. But sadly, the furious modernization that revolutionized Pudong is now seeping into Puxi's traditional neighborhoods, to the frustration of many of Shanghai's 24 million inhabitants. Siegemund himself laments the continuing loss of these historic communities: "I hope [the neighborhoods] will prevail forever and overcome the endless urbanization process!" he said on Instagram. Though he was a foreigner when he started photographing Shanghai, Siegemund has since fallen in love with the city, and become a permanent resident. And who can blame him? Shanghai is a city slicker's dream home—even if it is outgrowing its shoes!
 

Below: more drone photos of sprawling Shanghai, China.
 

Image credit & copyright: Mark Siegemund
 

Artist: David Gilhooly (b. 1943)
Created: 1982
Medium: glaze on ceramic
Dimensions: 41.5 x 25 x 18.75 in (105.41 x 63.5 x 47.63 cm)
Current location: Anderson Collection, Stanford, California
 

A frog went a-courtin' and he did ride, M-hm, M-hm. Throughout the second half of the twentieth century, kooky sculptor David Gilhooly gained international praise for his irreverent ceramics—notably his slew of outlandish frog sculptures. Gilhooly's swampy antics culminated with his Frog World series, a politically-charged universe of web-toed figurines. Hoarding My Frog Food, shown above, takes aim at society by critiquing the average American's overly-saturated diet… with heaping piles of frogs, beavers, and a moose. Gilhooly, born today in 1943, once said he started sculpting frogs because "you can't glaze people in colors." Such whimsy guided Gilhooly his entire career; it was as a student at UC Davis in the '60s, that he picked up sculpting, only in an attempt to flirt with a woman. Not long after, he took a class by painter Roy De Forest, with whom he began pioneering the Funk Art Movement—a loose association of oddball artists native to the San Francisco Bay Area. Gilhooly passed in 2013, but his indelible, inedible mark remains in art museums around the country, souring appetites and turning heads!
 

Below: a close-up of Hoarding My Frog Food.
 

Image credit & copyright: David Gilhooly / Anderson Collection / Three Minute Modernist
 

Gardening on a spring day can be fun, but aboard the International Space Station, it's out of this world! In 2016, Astronaut Scott Kelly and his crew grew the first zinnia flowers in space, but not without a few perilous first attempts. The zinnias were the third crop grown in the Veggie plant growth facility, after an initial seeding that failed, and a second that successfully produced red romaine lettuce. Zinnias were chosen because they would give scientists information about the growth cycle of plants in microgravity, as they are highly sensitive to light and environmental changes. Within weeks, the zinnias began to show signs of mold and curling in the leaves, which indicated over-humidification and flooding in the roots. After excessive fan circulation left the crops dehydrated, Kelly took matters into his own hands, adjusting pre-planned watering cycles to meet the plant's delicate needs. After reinvigorating the growth process, Kelly took this photo and shared it via social media, letting us terrestrial dwellers know that life in space is definitely in full bloom!

 

Image credit & copyright: NASA
 

Artist: Unknown
Created: about 1400 - 1500
Medium: bronze with gilding
Dimensions: 26 x 18 in (66 cm x 45.7 cm)
Current location: Asian Art Museum, San Francisco, California
 

Talk about complicated relationships! These two intertwined figures have a total of twelve arms between them, and the larger one has three faces. The Buddhist deity Guhyasamaja , which means "secret union," represents an enlightened being. The figures are two pillars of Buddhism, wisdom and compassion; their physical union represents the ultimate state of enlightenment. According to Vajrayana Buddhist tradition, practitioners who meditate on the Guhyasamaja achieve a state of blessed wisdom more quickly, possibly in a single lifetime (according to Buddhism, those who don't achieve enlightenment must go through repeated rounds of reincarnation). In early China, where the sculpture was made, pieces like this were created by court artisans as gifts for distinguished monks or for members of royalty. The sculpture is included in the exhibit, Divine Bodies, showing at San Francisco's Asian Art Museum through July 29th. The exhibit poses the question, "How can we recognize the divine in the human, and the human in the divine?" The Buddhist deity Guhyasamaja, with its very human features and luminous expression, is an extraordinary combination of both.
 

Below: The Buddhist deity White Tara, a divine goddess who represents the combined wisdom of all buddhas, at San Francisco's Asian Art Museum.
 

 
Image credit & copyright: Asian Art Museum
 

It's Flashback Friday (the 13th)! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
 

It might be cold outside, but the Tunnel of Love near Klevan, Ukraine is a hot travel destination for amorous couples. Legend has it that if two lovers walk together down the three-mile path, their tenderest wishes will come true. Romantic superstitions aside, the trail's actual history is a bit more complicated. The unique, densely-forested shape was likely created during the Cold War: a running train track lines the tunnel's floor and leads to a military base. Trees were planted alongside the tracks to protect the location and transportation of military gear. The arched shape is currently maintained by local companies, and one of them use the passage to run a plywood supply line several times a day. But getting trains through the Tunnel of Love can sometimes be perilous. As vehicles approach, tourists line up with their cameras along the narrow path to get the perfect shot. As a result, locals are learning to balance the rise in tourism while simultaneously maintaining the active railway. Because sometimes love hurts, and love scars, but it doesn't need to do that in the Tunnel of Love!

 

Below: the Tunnel of Love in winter; a train conductor keeps an eye on the railroad path.
 

Image credit & copyright: Oleg Gordienko, Amos Chapple
 

It's Flashback Friday (the 13th)! Enjoy this favorite from the Curio Cabinet archives.
 

Title: Illustration from Beauty and the Beast

Artist: Kinuko Y. Craft (b. 1940)
Created: 2016
Medium: watercolors, oil on gesso panel
 

Beauty isn't just in the eye of the beholder; she's also the subject of one of Kinuko Craft's children's fairy tale paintings. This Beauty and the Beast piece is part of a book Craft—who turned 78 yesterday—illustrated and wrote with her husband Mahlon Craft. The tale is one of many that Craft has converted into picture books since the '90s. Before then, she attended the prestigious Kanazawa Bidai School of Art in Japan in the early '60s. Like Beauty in Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont's 18th-century tale, Craft traveled to a faraway land; she studied at the Art Institute in Chicago, and by the '70s, her work graced the pages of Time magazine, National Geographic, and Forbes, to name a few. Craft's painting process includes multiple stages, starting with a sketch on tracing paper, followed by an underpainting in watercolor, and a final coat of oils. The results are luminous and richly detailed, befitting the Beast's verdant garden and the location where Beauty would declare her love for him and break his curse. And there's nothing quite like watching true love blossom!
 

Below: more of Craft's illustrations of fairy tales: a dreaming Sleeping Beauty, and the queen of the ball, Cinderella.
 

Image credit & copyright: Kinuko Y. Craft