Held Up Very Well

(Image from Smithsonian Magazine)

The first Christmas card was created by Sir Henry Cole in 1843. The Londoner was facing the daunting task of answering "stacks" of holiday correspondence.

He approached an artist friend, J.C. Horsley, and asked him to design an idea that Cole had sketched out in his mind. Cole then took Horsley’s illustration—a triptych showing a family at table celebrating the holiday flanked by images of people helping the poor—and had a thousand copies made by a London printer. The image was printed on a piece of stiff cardboard 5 1/8 x 3 1/4 inches in size. At the top of each was the salutation, “TO:_____” allowing Cole to personalize his responses, which included the generic greeting “A Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year To You.”

The themes have proved to be durable: family, charity, conviviality, and a simple "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year", with no religious or commercial messaging. After 176 years and many variations, the original design seems humdrum, but when you think about it, it's held up very well.

Note: the local angle is that John Crichton of San Francisco owns one of the few surviving copies of the card and is lending it to the Charles Dickens Museum in London.

Yak-yak

(Chronicle photo)

President Trump's sculpture is on tour at the San Francisco wax museum. Constructing his waxwork posed unique challenges:

Every other wax figure at Madame Tussauds has human hair, but Trump’s orange mane could not be realistically duplicated with anything human. The sculptor settled on yak hair.

An electric bullhorn offers visitors the chance to "sing your praises" or "shout your grievances."

Someday historians will look at the sturm and drang surrounding this President as funny. Yak-yak.

Seattle Center: MoPOP

Still beautiful after all these years

I have never taken the elevator to the top of the Space Needle. This day wouldn't be any different.

The two-hour wait and the $32.50 price of admission didn't match the imagined benefit of the spectacular view, especially for those who only had a few hours to spend on a Sunday afternoon.

We walked around the rest of Seattle Center, which is built on the grounds of the 1962 Seattle World's Fair.

The Space Needle and the Monorail are the most recognizable historical landmarks, while the other buildings have been renovated and repurposed.

Marvel's Black Panther and the Thing

One attraction that we did visit--for about the same cost as the Space Needle--was the Museum of Pop Culture, aka MoPOP.

Popular culture covers such a vast territory--music or film each would deserve large museums of their own--that it was interesting to see what MoPOP would choose to showcase.

I liked their choices: Marvel comics and movies, science fiction, fantasy, and horror.

Guitar sculpture near MoPOP's entrance.

Re music, we had to tear ourselves away from the iMAX screen that was playing Michael Jackson's Thriller, which we had seen many times on our 19-inch Zenith during the 1980's.

Otherwise, the music displays somewhat understandably focused on Seattle bands Pearl Jam and Nirvana.

Within 2½ hours we were able to cover all of MoPOP, though we could have spent double the time studying the exhibits in depth.

For Seattle neophytes like us, it was definitely worth a visit.

Quiet Diversions

The North Korean regime may seem completely alien to First-Worlders, but it must have an instinct for self-preservation. North Korea is in the position of the hostage taker who is completely surrounded by a SWAT team; he knows that if he fires a single shot--which may or may not kill his hostage--he will be dead in a second. That's why I'm not worried....much.

On my list of havens from the world are art museums. Viewing an artwork online is an imperfect substitute for visiting one, but the advantage is that virtual escape is but a click, not a plane ticket, away.

The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit

The Wall Street Journal to its credit will occasionally devote space to a lesser-known work of art, in this case ‘The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit’ (1882) by portrait artist John Singer Sargent (1856-1925).

He set his large-scale composition just inside the main door of the Boits’ Paris apartment. The girls, in the foreground, are in a theatrically lighted space that melts into a darkened interior. Much of the painting’s allure lies in its careful balancing of color. Warmth slips in sparingly, through the caramel tones of a wall and the red of a dagger-shaped screen. Blackness holds the center, drawing the eye beyond the riddle of these four self-possessed children.

The most we can be confident of is their relative ages. The youngest, seated on the floor, holds a large, pink-cheeked doll and glances slightly away. The eldest stands in the shadows, in profile, next to her second-born sister. Daughter number three, distinguished by her blond tresses, is planted on pipe-cleaner thin legs at the far left, and seems to gaze inward. It is only the second-born daughter, dead center you suddenly realize, who truly looks back, her eyes alert with expectation.

Her older sister leans against an outsize vase, one of a pair. Flanking the passage into what appears to be a well-appointed parlor, the vases lend a sculptural quality to the three standing figures. A ruffle at the neck of the blond child echoes the fluting on the vases.

The WSJ art reviewer points us to a Velázquez from two centuries prior:

He borrowed his structure from Diego Velázquez’s “Las Meninas,” which he had copied on an 1879 visit to Madrid. Both works feature young girls and, unusually, are large and square. Like Velázquez, Sargent overcomes the square’s potentially deadening symmetry with a pleasing off-balance arrangement enhanced by deep space. And, also like him, he upends the conventions of group portraiture by giving each figure room to breathe. A viewer of the Boit daughters could seemingly join 4-year-old Julia on the carpet.

Las Meninas

There are beautiful aspects of the world that will long outlive our current "urgent" concerns. Quiet diversions can remind us so.

The More We Find the Present Wanting

HSR car: $68 billion doesn't buy what it used to.

The California State Railroad Museum is mainly about the past, but during this week's trip we spent a few minutes on the glorious future, i.e., high-speed rail. Current estimates are that HSR will cost $68 billion when it's completed in 2029. Even that may be a stretch.

The seismic and tunneling issues in mountain ranges were known about when the project was approved, but the assumptions regarding solutions now seem highly optimistic.

Today's problems are trivial, however, compared to the construction of the Transcontinental Railroad:

the Chinese workers accomplished amazing and dangerous feats no other workers would or could do. They blasted tunnels through the solid granite -- sometimes progressing only a foot a day. They often lived in the tunnels as they worked their way through the solid granite, saving precious time and energy from entering and exiting the worksite each day. They were routinely lowered down sheer cliff faces in makeshift baskets on ropes where they drilled holes, filled them with explosives, lit the fuse and then were yanked up as fast as possible to avoid the blast.

The Chinese workers, who averaged 4'10" and 120 pounds, helped to complete the 1,907-mile project in six years. California high-speed rail will cover 800+ miles and will take 14 years to complete, if we're lucky.

The more we examine the past the more we find the present wanting.

Groundwork Laid

Surveyor's toolkit: how many of us can identify these
implements, let alone know how to use them?

One's first visit to the California State Railroad Museum is usually spent marveling at the beauty of the restored locomotives. The age of steam seems like the distant past, but it was less than 200 years ago that America was still an agrarian society.

A good part of the Museum is devoted to the history of the First Transcontinental Railroad, which transformed the national economy.

An exact duplicate of 
Stanford Univ's Gold
Spike is in the Museum

Before the final spike was driven in 1869, merchant ships took four to six months to make the trip to California via Cape Horn; a like amount of time was necessary to traverse the overland route by wagon train.

The railroad shortened the journey to five days, unifying the country geographically and sparking an explosion in the movement of people and goods in both directions.

Industry and agriculture were not the only beneficiaries, it was now possible to build fortifications against military threats originating from both the Atlantic and the Pacific.

The 20th century became the American century, in large part due to the groundwork that was laid in the 19th.

Night at the Museum

Rubens' Tribute Money (iPhone photo, LOH, 5/19/2015)

Stanford Art History professor Alexander Nemerov spoke to a rapt audience this evening about one of his favorite paintings, Rubens' Tribute Money. The lecture was held at San Francisco's Legion of Honor museum, where the work has resided since 1944.

After pointing out details in Tribute Money that our untrained eyes might miss, Prof. Nemerov then described how Rubens was inspired by Caravaggio, and how Rubens in turn influenced Rembrandt.

Caravaggio's Incredulity of St. Thomas, Berlin

He compared the work with Caravaggio's Incredulity of St. Thomas and Rembrandt's the Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp. Comments:

1) Prof. Nemerov spent some minutes explaining the Bible stories behind the Rubens and the Caravaggio. Only a few decades ago the lecturer would just have had to say "render unto Caesar" and "doubting Thomas," and every American listener would immediately get the reference.

Rembrandt's the Anatomy Lesson, the Hague

2) Rubens (1577-1640) is renowned for his lush, sensual style. Prof. Nemerov noted that the extravagant musculature lives on in today's superhero comic books.

3) Why does he love Rubens? Among other factors, the paintings exude a unique "wetness."

After the lecture we adjourned to the main gallery to admire Tribute Money, which was situated in a room with works by Monet, Renoir, and other Impressionist masters.

It was our first visit to the museum, a replica of Paris' Palais de la Légion d’Honneur, but it won't be our last.

Rodin's Thinker greets visitors at the entrance

El Greco: St. Francis Venerating the Crucifix

Lawrence Hall of Science

Part of the exhibit on Nano

Having a few hours to while away in Berkeley on Thursday, we visited the Lawrence Hall of Science. As science museums go, it's not as large as popular destinations like the California Academy of Sciences or the Exploratorium. However, featured exhibits like the one on nano technology are thoughtfully presented to non-scientists (like your humble observer), and the "toys" in the play area are well designed illustrations of scientific principles.

The 3-D movie was first-rate, as is the view of San Francisco Bay. The Lawrence Hall of Science is not on most people's top-ten list of Bay Area attractions, but for long-time residents it's definitely worth a visit.

Very useful when watching Thursday's eclipse

At the Top of the Academy

Everyone we know does something for (not to) the environment in varying degrees, but the Living Roof at the California Academy of Sciences does seem a little, er, over the top.

The living roof

keeps the building's interior an average of 10 degrees cooler than a standard roof would.

The plants are drought-resistant and live off trapped rainwater, not the City water supply. Lightweight construction materials kept the weight down to about twice a normal load.

Living roofs may be fine for European cities and San Francisco, but definitely not in our suburban community, which approves colors such as "granite gray" but not "slate" for roof construction. Going green is fine....for grass and trees only. © 2013 Stephen Yuen

Albino Alligator

We visit the California Academy of Sciences a couple of times each year and always spend a few minutes watching Claude. The albino alligator can sit motionless for hours. We first thought he was a marble representation of a live animal, as artificial as the examples of the taxidermist's art in the Natural History section. Then he moved, and our interest was piqued.

17-year-old Claude can live till 80. Captivity suits albinos, most of whom don't make it to adulthood in the wild.

Initially, Claude had a green tank mate named Bonnie.

That relationship ended badly on a Saturday night in early 2009 when Bonnie bit Claude on his right front foot.

"Because he is albino, he has reduced vision. Claude would go into the water and bump into things, and Bonnie would snap at him," said his handler [Brian] Freiermuth, standing next to the swamp where Claude was in the 78-degree water with his head against the glass.

The Jan. 3 chomping of Claude's foot was apparently the final straw. On March 24, Bonnie was returned to a farm in Florida.

"Claude has been more active since Bonnie left," Freiermuth said. "He is better by himself, as he was stressed out with her there. He has interactions with his turtles. He is eating well. He knows his name and responds to whistle commands."

Having a tank mate has its benefits, but not if she snaps and bites. There are more unpleasant ways to live than lying on a rock by oneself, eating, and interacting with turtles. Good for Claude, may he live long and prosper. © 2013 Stephen Yuen

Body Worlds 2

Disease and death have always been mankind’s lot, but in the decades following the war Americans did their best to avoid these aspects of the human condition. We shunted the terminally ill and injured to hospitals where they expired quietly out of view. Cancer was a subject to be discussed in hushed whispers. Mass media and entertainment showed violent death, but with reduced horror and blood.

Today we have the proliferation of uncensored sources of information, the popularity of hospital and forensic-science TV shows where we can watch autopsies in prime time, and attendance at live births in delivery rooms. What was once witnessed by medical professionals, soldiers, and undertakers is now witnessed by all.

Plastination is the process by which flesh is preserved by draining water and fats from the specimen and substituting silicone, plastic polymer, or other permanent material in the cell. We attended Body Worlds, which displayed plastinated body parts and whole bodies, often in “artistic” poses. Once the initial squeamishness passed, I found the exhibit to be unexpectedly fascinating. The captioned signs provided sufficient information in my opinion, but the youngster and a college student both said they found the audio guide to be very helpful.

Although the feeling subsided, I couldn’t shake my disquiet over showing human bodies in this manner. Each donor gave his informed consent, but to display a body peeled like a banana or exploded symmetrically outward seemed disrespectful toward the being who once inhabited his fleshly temple. On the other hand, viewing a “real” spleen, heart, and liver more than made the experience worthwhile.

All in all, I’m glad I spent the $24 entrance fee and 2-3 hours on a Saturday, but I don’t intend to be a repeat visitor. © 2007 Stephen Yuen

San Francisco Maritime Museum

The San Francisco Maritime Museum will close for three years in order to effect some badly needed repairs. The museum is an attraction that I had never gotten around to visiting, so a trip was overdue. Business activity was light because of the Fourth, so a long Friday lunch became easy to rationalize. Besides, the weather was nice. I rode the trolley to Fisherman’s Wharf and walked to Aquatic Park.

Auto traffic thinned past the Cannery, as tourists and joggers crowded the sidewalks. Lunching office-workers looked on from the bleachers as schoolchildren frolicked on the beach. Camera at the ready, I idly strolled along the path until my daydreams were interrupted by the shouted warnings from a group of cyclists. Okay, I shouldn’t operate electronic gadgets while I’m driving, but can’t I have the freedom to be distracted while ambling along the sidewalk?

The hip city says that it’s all right for two-wheelers to whiz by pedestrians, but citizens risk a fine if they try to light a cigarette. Outdoor second-hand smoke – hazardous. Hundreds of pounds of bicyclist bearing down at 25 MPH – no problem.

Entering the museum, I wandered among the exhibits, memories of a bygone age--a clichéd observation that is true of all museums—until one realizes that the bygone age existed very recently. For a little over a hundred years, from the Gold Rush to the mid-20th century, the Bay teemed with ships of all shapes and sizes.

The City wasn’t built on rock’n roll but by the cargo delivered by merchant vessels. The Gold Rush commenced decades before the transcontinental railroad was completed, and nautical transport was the only means to move large quantities of goods to the West Coast. Those days are all but forgotten, as is the difficulty of making the hazardous journey around the tip of South America. Today Bay traffic is pretty much limited to Asian cargo carriers, recreational sailboats, commuter ferries, and the U.S. Navy.

I gazed at the replicas of Liberty Ships, which Henry J. Kaiser turned out by the hundreds in the nearby Richmond shipyards. Without them the war might have lasted much longer. I spent a few minutes in the communications exhibit with its ancient Spark (the origin of the nickname “Sparks” for ship radio operators) and vacuum tube equipment.

It was time to leave, but not without saying a silent thank-you for the Maritime Museum’s founder, Scott Newhall, better known as the editor of the Chronicle during its golden years. He built well, but his creations are looking tattered around the edges. With enough money and time, one can be restored but I'm not so sure about the other. © 2006 Stephen Yuen

From the Sublime to the Lemon Lime

Coca Cola Museum

The warm afterglow of the pinots and chardonnays had faded. The desert sun dispelled the memories of last week's Sonoma wine tastings and created a fierce thirst. I gulped each cup of flavored beverage as if it were a divine nectar. The tasting tray from the Coca Cola Museum in Las Vegas---sometimes you just have to have it.

© 2006 Stephen Yuen

Afternoon in the City

After six hours of touring, the visitors wanted to return to their rooms. The hotel was on Broadway between Stockton and Grant, on the edge of Chinatown. There were still a couple of hours to burn before dinner. I asked if anyone wanted to join me for a walk up Nob Hill. The men assessed the angle and distance and decided to smoke cigars instead.

The hike up Jackson is a tendon-stretching trek. I passed Stockton and Powell, where the Powell cable car makes a left turn.


The buildings are old, and some residents still hang their laundry from the balcony. Despite the near-shabby appearance and the constant ringing of the cable car bells, the apartments easily run over $2,500 a month.

The shop on Jackson and Jones has been selling the “world’s best” beef jerky for decades. The brisket is sliced into thin squares and is sweet and smoky. It’s not as salty or tough as the jerky one finds at supermarkets but because it’s expensive and I don’t come this way often, a few years had elapsed since I last masticated these magnificent meat morsels. The price had risen even further -- $9.50 for an 8-oz. package – so I only picked up a couple of packages.

Walking down the hill along Washington, I turned into the Cable Car Museum, whose name is slightly misleading because it’s also the barn and powerhouse for the cable car system. Those of us—nearly all males---who are fascinated by motors and wheels spinning around could spend hours gazing at the moving cables and other exhibits. Admission is free.

Back at the hotel the others were ready for dinner. We walked across Broadway to one of my favorite jook joints, Hing Lung.
The sign in the back advertised Peking Duck for the unheard-of-price of $9.99, so we were compelled to add it to our order. Ten minutes later, a platter of buns and crispy skin was brought to our table, along with another platter of duck pieces. I dabbed on the hoisin sauce and green onions. Delicious, as advertised.

I bade goodbye and wished the travelers luck in Sacramento and especially Reno, their following destination. It had been a pleasant day spent with friends, but it was time to get back to work. © 2006 Stephen Yuen