Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „Art roman – France (sud)“

Dans l’une des chambres du vieux château de Strakonice, en Bohême du Sud, on peut trouver une peinture gothique représentant la roue de Fortune. Elle date probablement de la première moitié du xiv e siècle. Du haut de la roue, un être est en train de tomber : mi-homme mi-cheval, il est doté d’un buste humain mais le bas de son corps est celui d’un équidé, avec une queue et des sabots. La présente étude tente de proposer une hypothèse basée sur la vivacité des relations politiques et culturelles entre la France et le royaume de Bohême sous le règne des deux premiers rois de la dynastie des Luxembourg. Le sujet est peut-être à rapprocher du Roman de Fauvel : l’histoire d’un cheval qui voulait assujettir les gens et devenir roi. Ce texte nous est connu grâce au magnifique codex qui fut probablement rédigé entre 1317 et 1322 et dont le destinataire fut vraisemblablement le comte Charles de Valois, beau-père du futur roi de Bohême Charles IV. Le château de Strakonice appartenait a Vilém de Strakonice, un seigneur extrêmement cultivé, entretenant des relations étroites tant avec le roi Jean de Luxembourg qu’avec son fils Charles IV, élevé à la cour royale de France. Il est possible qu’il ait connu l’histoire de Fauvel au moins de manière indirecte. L’éducation, la vie et les activités littéraires de Vilém de Strakonice ainsi que ses contacts avec les souverains de la Maison de Luxembourg et leurs artistes de cour permettent de l’envisager, au moins à titre d’hypothèse stimulante pour la recherche internationale et interdisciplinaire.

Le premier XIXe si?cle met la Serbie en contact plus intense avec la France, berceau des valeurs d?mocratiques et du patrimoine culturel europ?en aux yeux des Serbes subissant l?occupation turque depuis des si?cles. C?est ? partir de cette p?riode que commencent ? se d?velopper les liens culturels, politiques et ?ducatifs plus ?troits entre deux pays, particuli?rement renforc?s pendant la Grande Guerre, o? la France aide les jeunes serbes en leur ouvrant la porte de ses ?coles et universit?s. La Convention sign?e en 1920 en vue de la mise en place de la coop?ration intellectuelle et ?ducative (surtout universitaire) des deux pays pr?voyait ?galement la position privil?gi?e de la langue fran?aise au sein du syst?me ?ducatif serbe : en effet, dans les ann?es 30 du XXe si?cle, celleci sera la mati?re la plus enseign?e apr?s la langue serbe et les math?matiques, et le Minist?re des affaires ?trang?res fran?aises enverra r?guli?rement des livres fran?ais, ainsi que des dipl?mes et m?dailles pour les meilleurs ?l?ves. En raison de la croissance de l?influence politique italienne et surtout allemande dans les Balkans, un Congr?s des clubs fran?ais de Yougoslavie, tenu en 1935, marque le d?but des d?marches coordonn?es visant ? renforcer la pr?sence fran?aise dans tous les domaines de la vie sociale yougoslave. Les responsables du D?partement d??ducation aupr?s de l?Ambassade yougoslave ? Paris (Aleksandar Arnautovic puis Milan Markovic) informaient r?guli?rement Belgrade des activit?s dans la capitale fran?aise et ailleurs. Les boursiers du Gouvernement fran?ais (qui accordait la moiti? de la somme totale du budget aux ?tudiants yougoslaves, dont le nombre variait entre 60 et 100 par an dans la p?riode 1936-1940), du retour dans leur pays, r?pandront l?esprit de la culture fran?aise, ainsi que les connaissances acquises dans tous les domaines. Parmi les personnalit?s importantes qui excelleront dans leur m?tier se trouvent : Dr Vukan Cupic, professeur ? l?Universit? de Belgrade et directeur de l?Institut belgradois pour la m?re et l?enfant (boursier du fonds d?Alexandre de Yougoslavie de la mairie de Marseille 1938-1940), le chimiste Pavle Savic qui collaborait avec Ir?ne Curie, Dr Borisav Arsic qui a soutenu la th?se La Vie ?conomique de la Serbie du Sud au XIX si?cle (Paris, France-Balkans, 1936), Dr Branislav Vojnovic, directeur du Th??tre national, Dr Milos Savkovic qui ?tudiait l?influence de la litt?rature fran?aise sur le roman serbe etc. Les jeunes yougoslaves choisissent surtout la litt?rature, les arts et les sciences humaines. D?autre c?t?, le gouvernement yougoslave finan?ait chaque ann?e cinq ?tudiants fran?ais faisant la recherche au sein des universit?s yougoslaves. De nombreuses conf?rences sont dispens?es par les professeurs yougoslaves et fran?ais ; les ?coles franco-serbes, l?Institut fran?ais, les clubs et les associations de l?amiti? donnent les cours de fran?ais ; l?Association des ?tudiants en langue et litt?rature fran?aises organise les soir?es fran?aises et va r?guli?rement en excursions en France ; le Minist?re d??ducation finance les formations estivales des professeurs de fran?ais. Du c?t? fran?ais, l?Institut slave, la Chaire de serbo-croate ? l??cole de langues vivantes orientales avec des professeurs ?minents tels Andr? Vaillant et Andr? Mazon, le Lectorat serbe ? Paris, Strasbourg, Lyon etc. contribuaient aux ?tudes yougoslaves. La langue serbo-croate a ?t? inscrite sur la liste des langues vivantes que les ?l?ves pouvaient passer au baccalaur?at en 1936. Pourtant, cet ?panouissement sera de nouveau menac? par une p?n?tration politique et ?conomique des forces de l?Axe de plus en plus forte ? la veille de la Deuxi?me guerre mondiale : c?est ainsi que l?allemand devient la langue ?trang?re obligatoire au detriment du fran?ais en 1940, les entreprises fran?aises ferment leurs portes, tandis que de nombreuses activit?s culturelles et d?marches ?ducatives cherchent ? pr?server l??tat privil?gi? dont la France jouissait en Serbie depuis la Grande Guerre.

Spain is more commonly known as Andalusia, the Andalusia comes from the word Vandalusia, which means the country of the Vandals, because the southern part of the Peninsula was once ruled by the Vandals before they were defeated by Western Gothia in the fifth century. This area was ruled by Islam after the rulers of The Umayyah seized the peninsula's land from the West Gothies during the time of the Caliph Al-Walid ibn Abdul Malik. Islam entered Spain (Cordoba) in 93 AH (711 AD) through the North African route under the leadership of Tariq bin Ziyad who led the Islamic army to conquer Andalusia. Before the conquest of Spain, Muslims had taken control of North Africa and made it one of the provinces from the Umayyad Dynasty. Full control of North Africa took place in the days of Caliph Abdul Malik (685-705 AD). Conquest of the North African region first defeated until becoming one of the provinces of the Umayyad Caliph spent 53 years, starting from 30 H (Muawiyah ibn Abi Sufyan's reign) to 83 H (al-Walid's period). Before being defeated and then ruled by Islam, in this region there were sacs which became the basis of the power of the Roman Empire, namely the Gothic Kingdom. In the process of conquering Spain there were three Islamic heroes who could be said to be the most effective in leading units of troops there. They are Tharif ibn Malik, Tariq ibn Ziyad, and Musa ibn Nushair. Subsequent territorial expansion emerged during the reign of Caliph Umar ibn Abdil Aziz in the year 99 AH/717 AD, with the aim of controlling the area around the Pyrenian mountains and South France. The second largest invasion of the Muslims, whose movement began at the beginning of the 8th century AD, has reached all of Spain and reached far to Central France and important parts of Italy. The victories achieved by Muslims appear so easy. It cannot be separated from the existence of external and internal factors. During the conquest of Spain by Muslims, the social, political and economic conditions of this country were in a sad state. Politically, the Spanish region was torn apart and divided into several small countries. At the same time, the Gothic rulers were intolerant of the religious beliefs adopted by the rulers, namely the Monophysites, especially those who adhered to other religions, Jews. Adherents of Judaism, the largest part of the Spanish population, were forced to be baptized to Christianity. Those who are unwilling brutally tortured and killed. The people are divided into the class system, so that the situation is filled with poverty, oppression, and the absence of equality. In such situations, the oppressed await the arrival of the liberator and the liberator was from Muslims. Warrior figures and Islamic soldiers who were involved in the conquest of Spain are strong figures, their soldiers are compact, united, and full of confidence. They are also capable, courageous, and resilient in facing every problem. Equally important are the teachings of Islam shown by the Islamic soldiers, like tolerance, brotherhood, and help each other. The attitude of tolerance of religion and brotherhood contained in the personalities of the Muslims caused the Spanish population to welcome the presence of Islam there. Since the first time Islam entered in the land of Spain until the collapse of the last Islamic empire was about seven and half centuries, Islam played a big role, both in fields of intellectual progress (philosophy, science, fiqh, music and art, language and literature) and the splendor of physical buildings (Cordova and Granada). The long history passed by Muslims in Spain can be divided into six periods. Spanish Muslims reached the peak of progress and glory rivaled the glory of the Abbasid sovereignty in Baghdad. Abdurrahman Al-Nasir founded the Cordova University. He preceded Al-Azhar Cairo and Baghdad Nizhamiyah.

Cicero's speeches and essays—especially the Verrines—were widely read in France and England during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, when they were used in public debates about the fate of art in wartime. The early development of the concept of “cultural property” owed much to careful readings and citations of Cicero's views. The main charge brought against Verres in 70 B.C. was extortion during his term as governor of Sicily, but in the course of his prosecution Cicero depicts Verres as a rapacious collector of art who even took cult statues from temples for his private collection. This portrait of a “collector” who felt entitled to anything he could get and who abused his official authority to acquire works of art was recalled and used in debates about “collecting” many centuries later. This paper examines how Ciceronian views contributed to the development of the concept of art as cultural property.

The music of Paris, BN fonds fr. 146 has long held a special place in medieval musicology as one of the most abundant records of musical taste and style in the early decades of the 14th century, particularly so in its famous version of the Old French satire of the Roman de Fauvel, interpolated with no less than 169 musical items. In the last decade, however, perspective on the manuscript has radically altered in a new climate of interdisciplinary research. If there was once a tendency for scholars to extrapolate information from the manuscript, to allow its abundant visual, musical, literary and political texts to speak of cultures exterior to the book's bindings, recent collaborative approaches have focused attention on how those different media work together within the boundaries of the parchment. One consequence of such an approach is to raise new questions about music's role in the book, most particularly about its relationship to the narrative into which it is cast. This study explores perhaps the most startling and perplexing aspect of music's position in Fauvel: the numerous occasions where music is uncued and unprepared in the narrative. I focus on the most famous moment of narrative disjunction brought about by the presence of song: the interpolated bifolio, 28 bis and ter, containing the lai Pour recouvrer alegiance. Long viewed by musicologists as an ill-conceived afterthought, it is suggested that the song's intrusion (narrative and bibliographic) may be interpreted poetically, as a moment of lyric suspension engineered by its singer, Fauvel, in der to defer his lady's final, deadly refusal of his marriage suit. That deferral occurs not just in an abstract moment of lyrical time, but in the real, unfurling space of the parchment: As time passes (the reader turning the folios), Fortuna's impatience finally becomes palpable as she dramatically enters the landscape of the song in its closing moments. Song may thus be understood to occupy not only time but also space; the manuscript, it is argued, is witness to a new form of music-making in France at the turn of the 14th century, music-making that is material as well as sonic.

While the profound effect that metropolitan France has had on the contours of the global literary marketplace (or ‘littérature-monde’) has figured prominently in much recent scholarship, the similarly central role that Paris plays in the nebulous domain of world cinema remains ripe for scrutiny. The status of the Cannes Festival is well known as perhaps the single most powerful gatekeeper to a filmmaker’s international circulation, but the broader relationship between France’s administration of film culture and the international art-house circuit is not widely understood. This paper engages with competing definitions of ‘world cinema’ on both sides of the Atlantic and lays the groundwork for a historical inquiry into the Aide aux cinémas du monde, a production grant that the Centre national du cinéma established in 2012 to replace its long-running Fonds Sud, a fund for film projects originating in the southern hemisphere and beyond.

This article focuses on artistic and aesthetic practices within the idealist and symbolist movements of the late 19th century in France. It investigates how artists and art critics embraced androgynous imaginaries derived from Greco-Roman antiquity and the Platonic myth, transforming them into tools for social and sexual emancipation and giving rise to a proto-queer vision. An analysis of the art of Alexandre Séon, Odilon Redon, Jeanne Jacquemin, and Léonard Sarluis, in conjunction with the symbolist theories of Joséphin Péladan, Gabriel-Albert Aurier, and Émile Verhaeren, reveals an idealistic pursuit grounded in the union of the masculine and the feminine through the act of creation. Through the examination of artworks, contemporary critical discourse, and the personal correspondence of these art figures, this study posits that the androgyne serves as a heuristic model for a queer art history. The ideal androgyne, as theorized in Freud’s psychoanalytic writings, can function as a methodological paradigm in art studies as a tool for visualizing and conceptualizing homosexuality in art.

Die Frauengefängnisse haben sich seit den dreißiger Jahren des 19. Jh. verändert und treten durch einen besonderen Aspekt hervor : die Gefangenen wurden Nonnen anvertraut und es begann die Zeit der Klostergefängnisse. Letztere waren jedoch keine radikale Neuerung. Schon im vorherigen Jahrhundert gab es die Tendenz, Frauengefängnisse auf diese Art zu organisieren. Dahinter steckten auch manche Ziele für den Strafvollzug. Wie verlief das Leben der Insassen hinter den Klostermauern und wie wurden sie auf ihr späteres Leben vorbereitet ? Wie erging es den Gefangenen, die ja nicht unbedingt der Religion ihrer Wärterinnen teilten ? Alle Insassen mussten am Gottesdienst teilnahmen, auch wenn sie selbst nicht gläubig waren oder sich zu einem anderen Glauben bekannten. Der Einfluss des Katholizismus erschwert es uns, die speziellen und strengen Haftbedingungen dieser Frauen zu kennen.

The article is devoted to the historical and cultural aspects of the development of Czech art in the late Middle Ages on the example of an exhibition held from August 16 to November 3 at Prague Castle, which was dedicated to the 600th anniversary of the death of the Czech and Roman King Wenceslas IV. The author of the article considers the significance of the Czech culture and sacred art in the context of the political and historical specifics of the development of medieval Bohemia and the features of the reign of Vaclav IV, who wasthe son of the Holy Roman Emperor and the Czech King Charles IV . Wenceslas IV is a complex and controversial figure in Czech history, who stood at the «crossroads» of epochs and cultures, around him various disputes persist in historiography up to our time. This article provides an overview of the nature of the sacred artifacts of culture and art presented at the exhibition «Czech and Roman King Wenceslas IV: «beautiful style» of Gothic art», as well as the characteristics of the artistic style , defined in terms of historical and cultural, internal and external political development of the Czech Republic, crosscultural dialogue of the Czech Republic with European countries on the background of the emerging religious controversy in the country. The work takes into account the features of the Late Gothic style in the Central Europe. On the example of the remarkable works of painting, sculpture, fragments of architectural monuments, decorative and applied art and manuscripts, first of all the monumental Wenceslas Bible, many of which were brought to Prague from various European Galleries and Castles of Poland, Germany, France, New York, as well as from private collections, can demonstrate the rise of Czech culture and art in the late XIV-early XV centuries, which was presented the process of cultural accumulation of the European style of the late Gothic, received Czech national artificial identity.

The article discusses the role of members of the Teisseyre family in contribut­ing to Polish culture. The Teisseyre family, originally from France, settled in Poland after the French Revolution and quickly became Polonized. Subse­quent generations made a significant contribution to the cultural development of our country. They marked their presence primarily in the hard sciences (Wawrzyniec, Henryk, Juliusz, Andrzej, Mieczysław, and Roman Teisseyre), but also in the fields of technology (Jerzy and Andrzej Teisseyre) and art (Stanisław Teisseyre). Modern descendants who are active in various fields of culture try to continue the family traditions.

Pionnières en Chine par le choix qu’elles font de suivre des études supérieures, Su Xuelin et Chen Xuezhao le sont aussi par leur décision de partir à l’étranger pour cela, à une époque où peu de femmes se lancent dans l’aventure. Elles se singularisent également par leur destination, la France, alors peu fréquentée par les étudiants chinois (et par un nombre encore plus limité d’écrivains). Intellectuelles de premier plan, elles se consacreront essentiellement, pour l’une, à l’histoire et à la critique de la littérature chinoise (Su Xuelin) et, pour l’autre, au journalisme (Chen Xuezhao). Venues en France pour des raisons radicalement différentes, elles transcrivent toutes deux cette expérience sous forme de roman, Jixin [Des épines dans le cœur] pour Su Xuelin et Nanfeng de meng [Le rêve du vent du sud] pour Chen Xuezhao, publiés l’un et l’autre en 1929. Et c’est précisément par ce choix que Su Xuelin et Chen Xuezhao, atypiques par leur parcours, se montrent représentatives du questionnement identitaire des femmes en Chine au cours des années 1920, questionnement qui les amène à une prise de conscience d’elles-mêmes, une construction identitaire qu’elles partagent avec leurs compatriotes, malgré - ou grâce à - leur parcours si éloigné de celles restées sur place, un parcours marqué par l’exil.

This was the first international meeting for unclassified research worldwide on X-ray lasers. There were 86 participants from 10 countries. It was organized most perfectly in the French Alps just before the end of the skiing season by Pierre Jaegle (Universite Paris-Sud, Orsay) who himself may be considered as one of the first, in the field of X-ray lasers. Jeagle et al. published, in 1971, a paper on the extraordinary increase of the 117 angstrom aluminium lines when a target was irradiated by laser and a comparison with cases emitted from different volumes. His result was highlighted in 1973 by Benjamin Lax and Art Guenther (1974): ‘The most definitive evidence of non-equilibrium population of excited atomic states in a laser-produced plasma was obtained by Jaegle et al. at the University of Paris in Orsay’.

AbstractThe art of Paul Sérusier and that of his artist friends has been interpreted in this essay as having its roots in the Theosophical themes prevalent in an interdependent circle of authors and spiritualists in 18th and 19th century France. These mystical thinkers were less concerned with the writings and indomitable presence of the acknowledged leading light of Theosophy Helena Petrovna Blavatsky than with a more specifically French national yearning for its imagined Celtic and traditionally Roman Catholic roots, smothered, in their view, by secular and materialistic modern sensibilities. Theosophy, “the essence of all doctrines, the inmost truth of all religions” as defined by the doyenne of French Theosophy Maria, Countess of Caithness and Duchess of Medina-Pomar, led Sérusier to seek elemental truth for his art in a remote inland village in Brittany where he painted for many years, to a Benedictine monastery on the Danube where formerly Nazarene artist/monks had created a system of drawing and painting believed to be based on the original design of the universe, and to the widely read text Les Grands Initiés (1899) by the mystic writer, Edouard Schuré. Sérusier's broad-reaching search for the Theosophical roots of art was one aspect of the fin de siècle malaise that led the arts out of the world into dreams.

In 1944, Pierce Butler wrote, “ever since libraries have existed, war has been one of the chief agencies of [their] annihilation.”2 The looting and destruction of cultural treasures during wartime is an established fact throughout Western history, including Greek and Roman times as well as during the Crusades, when empires stripped defeated nations of their cultural heritage. During the Napoleonic Wars in the early nineteenth century, Napoleon had an army of art commissioners who were ordered to locate and seize valuable cultural property, including whole libraries, for transfer to France. But the systematic Nazi confiscation of European cultural treasures in . . .

When Martine de Bertereau (who died around 1643) married the alchemist and mining engineer Jean du Chastelet, Baron de Beausoleil, she had long been occupied with the art of mining "that was hereditary in her house". She wrote two pamphlets on mining addressed to the French king and the Cardinal Duke of Richelieu. In her short publications de Bertereau not only treated mining and mineral deposits in France, she also gave a short introduction to the art of finding water and of assessing its quantity and quality. While divining-rods featured widely, she also gave useful practical advice describing some sensible experiments, which she derived from Vitruvius's book on architecture. Her writings thus allow a unique glimpse into craft-skills, which centuries later developed into what came to be called hydrogeology, but which in the seventeenth century were essentially the same as in Roman times, albeit ‘corrupted’ by esoteric practices.

Du roman de Paris et Vienne composé dans le sud de la France par Pierre de La Cépède, subsistent une version longue (dont la rédaction dite « bourguignonne », transmise par le manuscrit Bruxelles, KBR, 9632-9633, est illustrée par le Maître de Jean de Wavrin) et une version courte transmise par une seule copie manuscrite, mais qui a connu une vaste fortune grâce à un passage précoce à l’imprimé. L’article étudie en parallèle le manuscrit, les deux incunables lyonnais et l’incunable anversois : étude de la structure (mise en chapitres, titres), des leçons et des variantes. Il faut souligner le rôle du premier imprimeur lyonnais, Le Roy, qui maintient des leçons proches de la copie manuscrite, tout en en introduisant d’autres, les plus nombreuses, qui se maintiendront dans la suite de la transmission, notamment dans la version anversoise de Leeu. Cependant l’incunable de Le Roy n’est pas exempt d’erreurs, dont certaines ont été corrigées par ses successeurs, certaines uniquement par l’incunable anversois. Le travail de ces imprimeurs est à prendre en compte. Loin d’être des transmetteurs passifs, ils veulent fournir à leurs lecteurs des livres à la fois beaux et corrects.

Diffusion of Mediterranean traits to central and north-western Europe during the middle Iron Age is a topic well rehearsed now by three generations of archaeologists. The stimulating recent exhibition Golasecca at the Musée d’Archéologie nationale in France, showed that – funds permitting – plenty of scope remains for research.Elaborately made imports, at for instance the Heuneburg, Vix or Hochdorf, have been interpreted as evidence for how aristocrats adopted Greek and Etruscan styles to reinforce their status and regional power between about 600 and 400 BC. Art historians revealed how their bronzesmiths responded selectively to templates from not only states to the south but also eastern nomads. Archaeologists worked out how goods were brought up the Rhône valley by the enterprising Greeks of Marseille or by the northerners themselves exploiting that colony. The ‘trade’ is thought to have encouraged development of social complexity. More recently, to demonstrate the recipients’ ‘agency’, attention has focused on potters’ responses, adoption of coinage and writing and ‘feasts’ for chiefs to show off ‘prestigious’ exotica to rivals, clients or tributaries. Similar models of trade, ‘appropriation’ and sociopolitical development have been developed for the Late Pre-Roman Iron Age and the Roman Iron Age.

En 1923, Édouard Garand fonde à Montréal une maison d’édition destinée à promouvoir la littérature canadienne au sein de la classe populaire et francophone à travers le pays. Gérard Malchelosse, membre du comité éditorial, dira à propos des visées de l’entreprise qu’elle promeut «une édition canadienne de Romans canadiens, écrits pour des Canadiens par des Canadiens et imprimés au Canada par des Canadiens. C’est une entreprise nationale destinée à fournir un stimulant de patriotisme, tout en aidant les auteurs de chez nous en propageant leurs ouvrages». Bien que cet ancrage résolument nationaliste pourrait laisser croire que les Éditions Édouard Garand s’adressent exclusivement à un public local, l’étude de la distribution de la collection « Le Roman canadien » nous informe sur ses réseaux commerciaux de distribution particulièrement étendus : au premier temps de ce rayonnement extérieur se trouvent les villes des colonies françaises et britanniques, ainsi que l’Amérique, depuis New York jusqu’à Buenos Aires. L’article propose d’étudier ces réseaux en regard de leurs positionnements coloniaux, politiques et marchands, tout en mettant en contexte ce rayonnement par rapport aux activités d’exportation de livres canadiens de l’époque. L’étude des documents du Fonds Édouard-Garand (Université de Montréal) permet de constater la mise en place de deux réseaux distincts. Dès 1926, on annonce que les Romans canadiens sont vendus dans des points de dépôt en France, en Grande-Bretagne, mais aussi, de manière plus surprenante, à Saigon, à Alger et au Cap. L’éditeur semble alors exploiter les réseaux marchands de comptoirs coloniaux français et britanniques pour participer à la diffusion, au sein de différentes librairies francophones, de la littérature canadienne outremer. Puis, à partir de 1944, alors que la France est encore sous l’Occupation, Montréal devient la plaque tournante de l’édition francophone mondiale, et Garand en profite pour ouvrir de nouveaux réseaux de distribution vers l’Amérique latine, convoquant un ensemble de relations diplomatiques et politiques canadiennes. L’éditeur cible alors notamment les dépositaires en Argentine, au Chili, en Colombie, à Cuba et au Pérou, par le biais des représentants commerciaux et des fonctionnaires du Ministère des Affaires extérieures du Canada. Cette entreprise ne vise toutefois pas, chez l’éditeur, une inscription dans des réseaux d’échanges intellectuels et culturels suivant l’axe nord-sud, étudiés notamment par Michel Lacroix et Michel Nareau. Résolument commercial, le système mis en place par Édouard Garand touche moins l’économie du savoir que la mise en marché de produits littéraires.

Resumen: Después de una reflexión inicial sobre las huellas gráficas (fotográficas y dibujadas) del exilio español de los perdedores de la guerra a finales de los años 30, en particular en el momento de la Retirada y de los campos de concentración en el sur de Francia, se propone un análisis de la novela gráfica Asylum de Javier de Isusi como trenzado de historias de vida de refugiados españoles del pasado, procedentes de Euskadi, y de refugiados de hoy en el País Vasco. Se muestra cómo la obra se inscribe en un recurso comparatista didáctico entre pasado y presente que utilizan tanto ciertas ONG como algunos periodistas y artistas militantes. Résumé : Après une réflexion initiale sur les traces graphiques (photographiques et dessinées) de l’exil espagnol des perdants de la guerre dans la deuxième moitié des années 30, en particulier lors de la Retirada et l’enfermement dans les camps de concentration du sud de la France, nous proposons une analyse du roman graphique Asylum de Javier de Isusi comme résultat du tressage d’histoires de vie de réfugiés espagnols basques du passé et de réfugiés d’aujourd’hui au Pays Basque. Il sera aussi montré comment cette oeuvre s’inscrit dans un recours comparatiste didactique entre le passé et le présent qu’utilisent tout autant certaines ONG que des journalistes et artistes militants.

Recent advances in Ground Penetrating Radar have caused the imaging technology to pivot from a simple construction engineering tool to a valuable new option for archaeology. Newfound abilities to model sound echoes resonating through stone have revealed archeological discoveries where excavation is not possible. Working with a transdisciplinary team, the artist secured a GPR scan of 2,000-year-old Gallo-Roman temple ruins below the plaza of a gothic cathedral in France. The technology's sounding image of the hidden site became a visual language that was explored in a 2-year series of artworks based on the discovery. The art + science research project resulted in data visualizations across many creative media including site-specific public trompe l'oeil, augmented reality, and hundreds of design experiments. Using the GPR dataset as a foundational resource in art-making, the project expanded the interpretation of Digital Heritage. Collectively, the works reinforced the understanding of a site hidden since Antiquity but also considered public non-sites in pandemic times. The advances in this scanning technology proved to be a powerful creative tool to highlight themes of how we protect and understand heritage, how we create public experiences in socially distanced times, and our responsibility to continually reconsider complex history.

This article is dedicated to portrait images in Western European porcelain of the XVIII century. Research is conducted on the works created in various European countries, such as Germany (Meissen), France (Sevres), Austria (Vienna), and England (Wedgwood Pottery Manufactory). Prominent masters of porcelain –Kendler, Boizot, Grassi – are the authors of the portraits. Sculptural portrait images of August III – painter of the court of the French Queen Marie Antoinette and the Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II are notable for exquisite artistic merit. The article reviews porcelain sculpture, as well as oil painted portraits. Interpretation of the images manifests the features of three styles characteristic to art of the XVIII century: Baroque, Rococo and Classicism. Portrait images reflect the themes typical to the Age of Enlightenment. The article describes the peculiarities of the creations of artists who worked in various European porcelain manufactories. Research methodology is based on the detailed stylistic analysis of the works of Baroque, Rococo and Classicism; fundamental examination of the works in historical sequence for determining the evolutionary changes; comparative analysis for revealing national and authorial specificities. The novelty is defined by the fact that this article is first to comprehensively analyze the portrait images in porcelain of such countries as Germany, France, and Austria of the XVIII century, as well as in identification of the features characteristic to different artists.

Abstract It has been known for twenty-five years that Alessandro Striggio the elder, the most important composer at the Medici court in Florence in the 1560s and 1570s, wrote a setting of the Ordinary of the Mass in forty parts, with an Agnus Dei in sixty parts, but the piece has always been thought lost. This major artwork from the high Florentine Renaissance does in fact survive (F-Pn, Rés. Vmd. ms 52). Entitled Missa sopra Ecco sìì beato giorno, it is Striggio's most imposing composition, and underlines the early eminence of Florence in the art of massive polychoral writing. The last movement is indeed in sixty real parts. The Mass also appears to have been used by the Medici as a political tool in the art of cultural diplomacy. Offered in January 1567 to Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian II at exactly the moment when Cosimo de' Medici was seeking approval from Maximilian of a royal title (granted finally as “Grand Duke” by Pope Pius V in 1569), the Mass was also performed by Lassus's colleagues in Munich and under Striggio's direction at court in France, a few weeks before he visited the court of Queen Elizabeth I in London in June 1567. The links with Striggio's forty-part motet Ecce beatam lucem and with Thomas Tallis's Spem in alium, are discussed, as are the reasons why the source of the Mass remained unknown throughout the twentieth century.

The article studies Ukrainian graphic art of the late twentieth century, undergoing changes caused by political events in Eastern Europe. Two iconic exhibitions became the turning point for native art as they revealed the Ukrainian graphic arts, and broke through the "iron" curtain of the totalitarian regime. The ideological seclusion of the USSR focused solely on the themes celebrating the life of a happy worker, peasant, or intellectual, did not let the works of another content to be displayed in public. Moreover, all areas of art creativity were controlled by the Union of Artists of Ukraine, headed by people with party membership cards. This prohibition referred especially to works of national-patriotic, conceptual, abstract, or surrealistic nature. The idea to hold an international exhibition that would present Ukrainian graphics to the world arose in the heads of a few independent politicians. At the state level, that idea certainly did not gain any support, but some people contributed to its implementation. Interestingly, the first exhibition of graphics "Interdruk'90" took place just before the collapse of the USSR, and the second, "Interdruk'92", in an already independent Ukraine. The exhibitions showed a high level of Ukrainian graphics, which equaled and sometimes surpassed the works of foreign masters. Among the exhibited art were works by such masters of national graphics as Valeriy Demya- nyshyn, Oleg Denysenko, Mykhaylo Alexandrov, Volodymyr Gumenny, Konstantin Kalinovich, Ivan Kravetz, Pavlo Makov, Mychaylo Moskal, Volodymyr Pinigin, Igor Podolchak, Yuriy Pshenychny, Roman Romanyshyn, Yevgen Ravsky, Alexander Aksinin et al. Their works reflected the whole spectrum of current life themes, which were seen and interpreted in new ways, imaginative technical and formal solutions. Most of those national artists had been exhibited abroad and won the most prestigious graphic contests, yet they were little known in their Motherland. On the other hand, the Ukrainian audience got a chance to learn about the works and achievements of graphic artists from France, Great Britain, Argentina, Korea, Israel, Spain, Holland, Poland, Canada, Russia, Japan, Italy and other countries. We may state that those two exhibitions of printmaking art opened the way to the development of graphics in independent Ukraine.

The emergence of Islam influenced the revolution and made a wave of culture toward a new world when experiencing an era of darkness. The progress of Greek civilization in the Westcould not be continued by the Roman empire and Roman domination in the classical era until the middle ages; which was then therise of the West in the era of renaissance in the 14-16th century.This paper will reveal the influence of Islam on the development of the Western world, since the emergence of contact between Islam with the West in the Classical era until the middle ages. There are different opinions among historians about who and when the first contact between Islam and the West took place. The first contact, however, occurred when the areas of East Roman government (Byzantium), Syria (638) and Egypt (640) fell into the hands of the Islamic government during the reign of Caliph 'Umar bin Khaţţāb. The Second contact, at the beginning of the eighth and ninth centuries occurred when the kings of Islam were able to rule Spain (711-1472), Portugal (716-1147), and important Mediterranean islands such as Sardinia (740-1050), Cicilia (827-1091), Malta (870-1090) as well as several small areas in Southern Italy and French Southern France. The third contact, took place in Eastern Europe from the fourteenth to early twentieth century when the Ottoman empire ruled the Balkan peninsula (Eastern Europe) and Southern Russia. The Ottoman empire's powers in Europe covered Yunāni, Bulgaria, Albania, Romania, Yugoslavia, Hungary, parts of Rhode, Cyprus, Austria and parts of Russia. Of the three periods of contact, the greatest influence was in the second contact period, where the decline of Western science in the dark era, while in the Islamic world developed advanced and produces scientists, thinkers and intellectuals in various sciences. This influence can be seen from the sending of students studying to the university of Islamic area, the establishment of the university, the translation and copying of various scientific literature such as natural science (Science of astronomy, Mathematics, Chemistry, Pharmacy, medicine, architecture etc) and Social Science history, philosophy, politics, economics, earth sciences, sociology, law, culture, language, literature, art, etc.). The Historians recognize that the influence of Islamic civilization is very great on the development of the West, which culminated in the renaissance or rise of Western civilization in Europe after the dark era.

The emergence of Islam influenced the revolution and made a wave of culture toward a new world when experiencing an era of darkness. The progress of Greek civilization in the West could not be continued by the Roman empire and Roman domination in the classical era until the middle ages; which was then the rise of the West in the era of renaissance in the 14-16th century. This paper will reveal the influence of Islam on the development of the Western world, since the emergence of contact between Islam with the West in the Classical era until the middle ages. There are different opinions among historians about who and when the first contact between Islam and the West took place. The first contact, however, occurred when the areas of East Roman government (Byzantium), Syria (638) and Egypt (640) fell into the hands of the Islamic government during the reign of Caliph 'Umar bin Khaţţāb. The Second contact, at the beginning of the eighth and ninth centuries occurred when the kings of Islam were able to rule Spain (711-1472), Portugal (716-1147), and important Mediterranean islands such as Sardinia (740-1050), Cicilia (827-1091), Malta (870-1090) as well as several small areas in Southern Italy and French Southern France. The third contact, took place in Eastern Europe from the fourteenth to early twentieth century when the Ottoman empire ruled the Balkan peninsula (Eastern Europe) and Southern Russia. The Ottoman empire's powers in Europe covered Yunāni, Bulgaria, Albania, Romania, Yugoslavia, Hungary, parts of Rhode, Cyprus, Austria and parts of Russia. Of the three periods of contact, the greatest influence was in the second contact period, where the decline of Western science in the dark era, while in the Islamic world developed advanced and produces scientists, thinkers and intellectuals in various sciences. This influence can be seen from the sending of students studying to the university of Islamic area, the establishment of the university, the translation and copying of various scientific literature such as natural science (Science of astronomy, Mathematics, Chemistry, Pharmacy, medicine, architecture etc) and Social Science history, philosophy, politics, economics, earth sciences, sociology, law, culture, language, literature, art, etc.). The Historians recognize that the influence of Islamic civilization is very great on the development of the West, which culminated in the renaissance or rise of Western civilization in Europe after the dark era.

En 1923, Édouard Garand fonde à Montréal une maison d’édition destinée à promouvoir la littérature canadienne au sein de la classe populaire et francophone à travers le pays. Gérard Malchelosse, membre du comité éditorial, dira à propos des visées de l’entreprise qu’elle promeut «une édition canadienne de Romans canadiens, écrits pour des Canadiens par des Canadiens et imprimés au Canada par des Canadiens. C’est une entreprise nationale destinée à fournir un stimulant de patriotisme, tout en aidant les auteurs de chez nous en propageant leurs ouvrages». Bien que cet ancrage résolument nationaliste pourrait laisser croire que les Éditions Édouard Garand s’adressent exclusivement à un public local, l’étude de la distribution de la collection « Le Roman canadien » nous informe sur ses réseaux commerciaux de distribution particulièrement étendus : au premier temps de ce rayonnement extérieur se trouvent les villes des colonies françaises et britanniques, ainsi que l’Amérique, depuis New York jusqu’à Buenos Aires. L’article propose d’étudier ces réseaux en regard de leurs positionnements coloniaux, politiques et marchands, tout en mettant en contexte ce rayonnement par rapport aux activités d’exportation de livres canadiens de l’époque. L’étude des documents du Fonds Édouard-Garand (Université de Montréal) permet de constater la mise en place de deux réseaux distincts. Dès 1926, on annonce que les Romans canadiens sont vendus dans des points de dépôt en France, en Grande-Bretagne, mais aussi, de manière plus surprenante, à Saigon, à Alger et au Cap. L’éditeur semble alors exploiter les réseaux marchands de comptoirs coloniaux français et britanniques pour participer à la diffusion, au sein de différentes librairies francophones, de la littérature canadienne outremer. Puis, à partir de 1944, alors que la France est encore sous l’Occupation, Montréal devient la plaque tournante de l’édition francophone mondiale, et Garand en profite pour ouvrir de nouveaux réseaux de distribution vers l’Amérique latine, convoquant un ensemble de relations diplomatiques et politiques canadiennes. L’éditeur cible alors notamment les dépositaires en Argentine, au Chili, en Colombie, à Cuba et au Pérou, par le biais des représentants commerciaux et des fonctionnaires du Ministère des Affaires extérieures du Canada. Cette entreprise ne vise toutefois pas, chez l’éditeur, une inscription dans des réseaux d’échanges intellectuels et culturels suivant l’axe nord-sud, étudiés notamment par Michel Lacroix et Michel Nareau. Résolument commercial, le système mis en place par Édouard Garand touche moins l’économie du savoir que la mise en marché de produits littéraires.

Le passage du Paléolithique moyen au Paléolithique récent n’est désormais plus perçu comme une rupture franche mais comme la succession d’une mosaïque d’innovations (art, ornements, industries osseuses) apparues au cours du Paléolithique moyen. Il n’en demeure pas moins qu’une distinction forte demeure entre ces deux périodes : les groupes humains du Paléolithique moyen exploitent majoritairement les matériaux lithiques présents à courtes distances du gisement (moins de 50 km) tandis qu’au Paléolithique récent il est fréquent de trouver des évidences de circulations de géomatériaux sur plusieurs centaines de kilomètres. Nous présentons ici une étude comparative de deux gisements français : l’abri Pataud (Dordogne) pour le Paléolithique supérieur, et le gisement de Baume-Vallée (Haute-Loire) pour le Paléolithique moyen, basée sur une approche combinée de données pétrographique, technologique et économiques que nous nommons approche pétro-techno-économique (PTE). Cette approche intègre les démarches et avancées récentes des disciplines de la pétroarchéologie, et de la techno-typologie au service d’une problématique techno-économique (Geneste, 2010), et permet de mettre en évidence les comportements socio-économiques des populations passées. Nous proposons donc ici de discuter de la gestion des ressources lithiques au Paléolithique moyen en utilisant les mêmes termes, méthodes et questions que pour le Paléolithique récent. Du point de vue méthodologique, l’étude des gisements de l’Abri Pataud et de Baume-Vallée s’est articulée autour d’une double approche. D’une part les déterminations pétroarchéologiques exhaustives à l’échelle macro-mésoscopique (loupe binoculaire à fort grossissement, ×20 à ×150, et macroscope) selon des principes analytiques discutés et enrichis depuis les années 1980 (Masson, 1981 ; Séronie-Vivien et al., 1987 ; Affolter et al., 2008 ; Fernandes, 2012) et l’intégration des principes de chaîne évolutive (Fernandes et Raynal, 2006 ; Fernandes, 2012) permettant une meilleure compréhension et identification des gitologies de collecte potentielles. D’autre part l’étude des comportements techno-économiques (Geneste, 2010) appliqués à chaque matériau suivant une analyse segmentée de la chaîne opératoire suivant quatre étapes principales. Cette double approche permet la mise en évidence de groupes pétro-techno-économiques homogènes, utilisés pour discuter et comparer les comportements socio-économiques. Nous pouvons ainsi envisager les distances d’approvisionnement et les territoires des groupes humains, mais également identifier les variations de gestions sur certains itinéraires au sein de ces territoires, la planification des mobilités et les potentiels réseaux de transferts. Les deux gisements étudiés montrent un espace d’approvisionnement en matière première lithique très large s’étendant sur plusieurs centaines de kilomètres autour du gisement. Si de tels résultats sont communs pour le Paléolithique récent, ils demeurent extrêmement rares pour le Paléolithique moyen. Ils apparaissent notamment en contradiction avec la décroissance quantitative supposée des matériaux, et leur plus forte consommation économique, à mesure que la distance au gite augmente. Pour l’Abri Pataud, six groupes principaux de matières premières se répartissant en quatre groupes PTE de gestion ont été identifiés (tableau 1) : les silex sénoniens du Périgord (groupe PTE 1), les silex du Bergeracois et du Grain de Mil (groupe PTE 2), les silex du Turonien supérieur du Grand-Pressigny (groupe PTE 3) et les silex du Turonien d’Angoulême et du Crétacé de Chalosse (groupe PTE 4). Les interprétations divergent en fonction de l’importance accordée aux réseaux de transferts : si l’on favorise une acquisition directe des matériaux, les données pourraient illustrer un territoire organisé autour d’une mobilité saisonnière à longue distance entre le sud du Bassin parisien et le Périgord. Cette hypothèse peut être mise en relation avec les données issues des études archéozoologiques (Sekhr, 1998 ; Soulier, 2013) qui illustrent une chasse préférentielle au printemps et en été. La Charente constituerait alors un espace pivot, propice à la constitution de stock de matières premières avant un séjour en Périgord, quand les matériaux originaires de Chalosse marqueraient des transferts avec d’autres groupes situés vers les Pyrénées. Si l’on favorise l’hypothèse des acquisitions indirectes, les espaces charentais et périgordiens représenteraient les pôles terminaux d’un territoire social centré autour de la vallée de la Dordogne, et des espaces relais au sein d’un réseau de transfert intégrant des territoires voisins centrés sur le Sud du Bassin parisien et les Pyrénées. Ces hypothèses rejoignent celles déjà formulées antérieurement pour l’Aurignacien récent à burin busqué (Bordes et al., 2005 ; Féblot-Augustins, 2008 et 2009 ; Caux, 2015 ; Caux et Bordes, 2016). Pour Baume-Vallée, 37 groupes de matériaux issus de 15 géotopes principaux ont été identifiés (Vaissié et al., 2017) et se répartissent en quatre groupes PTE de gestion (tableau 2) : silex oligocènes de la vallée de la Borne (groupe PTE 1) ; silex aaléniens du Velay, silcrète de Saint-Pierre-Eynac, silicifications du bassin de Naussac, silcrètes de la Paléo-Truyère et de Saint-Léger-du-Malzieu, silex du Turonien inférieur de la vallée du Cher et du Turonien supérieur du Grand-Pressigny (groupe PTE 2) ; silcrète de la vallée de la Laussone (La Collange), silex du Mazet-Saint-Voy, silcrète d’Arlanc, silex barrémo-bédoulien de Rochemaure-Cruas, silex oligocènes du bassin des Limagnes et du bassin d’Aurillac (groupe PTE 3) ; silcrète pédogénétique de Madriat et silex sénoniens du Loiret (groupe PTE 4). Que ce soit par l’ampleur des circulations ou l’économie des matériaux représentés sur le site, les données pétro-techno-économiques livrent des résultats qui dénotent de la variabilité des comportements couramment observés au Paléolithique moyen. Loin d’exprimer les stratégies opportunistes couramment décries, on observe une réelle planification et une anticipation des besoins en matière première, à la fois à une échelle régionale et extrarégionale. Si l’hypothèse d’une acquisition directe semble pouvoir être privilégiée en majorité, la présence de matériaux faiblement représentés et dont l’acquisition implique le franchissement de contraintes naturelles majeures pourrait être un argument en faveur de la mise en évidence de réseaux de transferts. Dans ce cas, le territoire des groupes humains de Baume-Vallée s’organiserait suivant des cycles de nomadismes saisonniers à grande échelle entre le sud du Bassin parisien et l’espace vellave. Ce territoire pourrait s’articuler, via des réseaux sociaux structurés, avec d’autres territoires moustériens limitrophes : Bassin aquitain, Bassin parisien, vallée du Rhône et potentiellement vallée de la Loire.

Whereas the fields of poetic expression and pragmatist philosophy may seem some distance apart, a closer examination of the poetics literature from the early Greeks onward provides testimony to the more general viability of the pragmatist analysis of community life, particularly as this has come to be associated with pragmatism’s sociological derivative, symbolic interaction. Following a brief overview of the Greek, Roman, and Christian roots of contemporary fictional representations, attention is given to the ways that pragmatist concerns with human activity were addressed within the context of poetic expression in 12th-13th century France. Whereas the pre-Renaissance texts considered here exhibit pronounced attentiveness to Christian theology, they also build heavily on Latin sources (especially Virgil and Ovid [see Prus 2013a]). Among the early French poets who address the matters of human knowing and acting in more direct and consequential terms are: Alan de Lille (c. 1120-1203) who wrote The Plaint of Nature and Anticlaudianus; Andreas Capellanus (text, c. 1185) the author of The Art of Courtly Love; and Guillaume de Lorris (c. 1212-1237) and Jean de Meun (c. 1235-1305) who, in sequence, co-authored The Romance of the Rose. Given our interest in the ways in which those in the poetic community helped sustain an analytic focus on human lived experience, particular consideration is given to these early French authors’ attentiveness to (1) the relationships, identities, activities, and tactical engagements that people develop around romantic relationships; (2) the sense-making activities of those about whom they write, as well as their own interpretive practices as authors and analysts; (3) the ways in which the people within the communities that they portray knowingly grapple with religious and secular morality (and deviance); and (4) more generic features of human standpoints and relationships. Clearly, the poets referenced here are not the first to pursue matters of these sorts. However, their materials are important not only for their popular intrigues, creativity, and effectiveness in “moving poetics out of the dark ages” but also for encouraging a broader interest in considerations of the human condition than that defined by philosophy and rhetoric.

The issues of legal correlation between the terms of «holding» and «usage» according to the national legislation of Ukraine is analyzed in the article. The historical preconditions of formation and legal regulation of the appropriate terms in the legislations of foreign countries in particular such as: Germany, France, the Netherlands, Italy, etc. are researched. At the same time, the European case law in property cases, which characterize the researched terms, is analyzed. It is set that considering applications for violation of Art. 1 of the Protocol No. 1 to the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms of 1950, the court faced not only cases in which the applicants were in fact deprived of their property by expropriation and / or nationalization, but also cases in which such deprivation was deemed to be de facto. The legal nature of the term of «usage» based on the legal regulation of this term in various legal acts of Ukraine, is researched additionally. It is identified that resolving disputes arising from the acquisition of ownership of fruits, produces, income, sowings and plantings, the courts must proceed from the fact that the emergence of ownership of fruits, products, income derived from the use of the thing, the current legislation connects with the use of the thing (Article 775 of the Civil Code of Ukraine), and for sowings and plantings of agricultural and other crops — with the use of land (Article 95 of the Land Code of Ukraine). It is identified that the term «holding a thing» is more common in the countries of the German legal system. In Ukraine, the term «usage of a thing» is used. The ECtHR uses an analogous term, as usage is enshrined in Article 1 of Protocol No. 1 to the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms. Also, a significant difference between holding the thing and using the thing is that according to the approach of the legislators of the German legal system and Roman law, the ability of holder to protect the thing is not always enshrined on the normative level. Instead, in Ukraine, the protection of the right to use a thing can be exercised by a person who legally uses it. Key words: civil law, use, possession, Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms.

AbstractThe nucleus of the collection of paintings in the Mauritshuis around 130 pictures - came from the hereditary stadholder Prince William v. It is widely believed to have become, the property of the State at the beginning of the 19th century, but how this happened is still. unclear. A hand-written notebook on this subject, compiled in 1876 by - the director Jonkheer J. K. L. de Jonge is in the archives of the Mauritshuis Note 4). On this basis a clnsor systematic and chronological investigation has been carried out into the stadholder's. property rights in respect of his collectcons and the changes these underwent between 1795 and 1816. Royal decrees and other documents of the period 1814- 16 in particular giae a clearer picture of whal look place. 0n 18 January 1795 William V (Fig. 2) left the Netherlands and fled to England. On 22 January the Dutch Republic was occupied by French armies. Since France had declared war on the stadholder, the ownership of all his propergy in the Netherlands, passed to France, in accordance with the laws of war of the time. His famous art collections on the Builerth of in. The Hague were taken to Paris, but the remaining art objects, distributed over his various houses, remained in the Netherlands. On 16 May 1795 the French concluded a treaty with the Batavian Republic, recognizing it as an independent power. All the properties of William v in the Netehrlands but not those taken to France, were made over to the Republic (Note 14), which proceeded to sell objects from the collections, at least seven sales taking place until 1798 (Note 15). A plan was then evolved to bring the remaining treasures together in a museum in emulation of the French. On the initiative of J. A. Gogel, the Nationale Konst-Galerij', the first national museum in the .Netherlands, was estahlished in The Hague and opened to the public on ,31 May 1800. Nothing was ever sold from lhe former stadholder's library and in 1798 a Nationale Bibliotheek was founded as well. In 1796, quite soon after the French had carried off the Stadholder, possessions to Paris or made them over to the Batavian Republic, indemnification was already mentioned (Note 19). However, only in the Trealy of Amiens of 180 and a subaequent agreement, between France ararl Prussia of 1 802, in which the Prince of Orarage renounced his and his heirs' rights in the Netherlands, did Prussia provide a certain compensation in the form of l.artds in Weslphalia and Swabia (Note 24) - William v left the management of these areas to the hereditary prince , who had already been involved in the problems oncerning his father's former possessions. In 1804 the Balavian Republic offered a sum of five million guilders 10 plenipotentiaries of the prince as compensation for the sequestrated titles and goods, including furniture, paintings, books and rarities'. This was accepted (Notes 27, 28), but the agreement was never carried out as the Batavian Republic failed to ratify the payment. In the meantime the Nationale Bibliolkeek and the Nationale Konst-Galerij had begun to develop, albeit at first on a small scale. The advent of Louis Napoleon as King of Hollarad in 1806 brought great changes. He made a start on a structured art policy. In 1806 the library, now called `Royal', was moved to the Mauritshuis and in 1808 the collectiorts in The Hague were transferred to Amsterdam, where a Koninklijk Museum was founded, which was housed in the former town hall. This collection was subsequertly to remain in Amsterdam, forming the nucleus of the later Rijksmuseum. The library too was intended to be transferred to Amsterdam, but this never happened and it remained in the Mauritshuis until 1819. Both institutions underwent a great expansion in the period 1806-10, the library's holdings increasing from around 10,000 to over 45,000 books and objects, while the museum acquired a number of paintings, the most important being Rembrandt's Night Watch and Syndics, which were placed in the new museum by the City of Amsterdam in 1808 (Note 44). In 1810 the Netherlands was incorporated into France. In the art field there was now a complete standstill and in 1812 books and in particular prints (around 11,000 of them) were again taken from The Hague to Paris. In November 1813 the French dominion was ended and on 2 December the hereditary prince, William Frederick, was declared sovereign ruler. He was inaugurated as constitutional monarch on 30 March 1814. On January 3rd the provisional council of The Hague had already declared that the city was in (unlawful' possession of a library, a collection of paintings, prints and other objects of art and science and requested the king tot take them back. The war was over and what had been confiscated from William under the laws of war could now be given back, but this never happened. By Royal Decree of 14 January 1814 Mr. ( later Baron) A. J. C. Lampsins (Fig. I ) was commissioned to come to an understanding with the burgomaster of The Hague over this transfer, to bring out a report on the condition of the objects and to formulate a proposal on the measures to be taken (Note 48). On 17 January Lampsins submitted a memorandum on the taking over of the Library as the private property of His Royal Highness the Sovereign of the United Netherlartds'. Although Lampsins was granted the right to bear the title 'Interim Director of the Royal Library' by a Royal Decree of 9 February 1814, William I did not propose to pay The costs himself ; they were to be carried by the Home Office (Note 52). Thus he left the question of ownership undecided. On 18 April Lampsins brought out a detailed report on all the measures to be taken (Appendix IIa ) . His suggestion was that the objects, formerly belonging to the stadholder should be removed from the former royal museum, now the Rijksmuseum, in Amsterdam and to return the 'Library', as the collectiort of books, paintings and prints in The Hague was called, to the place where they had been in 1795. Once again the king's reaction was not very clear. Among other things, he said that he wanted to wait until it was known how extensive the restitution of objects from Paris would be and to consider in zvhich scholarly context the collections would best, fit (Note 54) . While the ownership of the former collections of Prince William I was thus left undecided, a ruling had already been enacted in respect of the immovable property. By the Constitution of 1814, which came into effect on 30 March, the king was granted a high income, partly to make up for the losses he had sulfered. A Royal Decree of 22 January 1815 does, however, imply that William had renounced the right to his, father's collections, for he let it be known that he had not only accepted the situation that had developed in the Netherlands since 1795, but also wished it to be continued (Note 62). The restitution of the collections carried off to France could only be considered in its entirety after the defeat of Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo on 18 June 1815- This was no simple matter, but in the end most, though not all, of the former possessions of William V were returned to the Netherlands. What was not or could not be recovered then (inc.uding 66 paintings, for example) is still in France today (Note 71)- On 20 November 1815 127 paintings, including Paulus Potter's Young Bull (Fig. 15), made a ceremonial entry into The Hague. But on 6 October, before anything had actually been returned, it had already been stipulated by Royal Decree that the control of the objects would hence forlh be in the hands of the State (Note 72). Thus William I no longer regarded his father's collections as the private property of the House of Orange, but he did retain the right to decide on the fulure destiny of the... painting.s and objects of art and science'. For the time being the paintings were replaced in the Gallery on the Buitenhof, from which they had been removed in 1795 (Note 73). In November 1815 the natural history collection was made the property of Leiden University (Note 74), becoming the basis for the Rijksmuseum voor Natuurlijke Historie, The print collection, part of the Royal Library in The Hague, was exchanged in May 1816 for the national collectiort of coins and medals, part of the Rijksmuseum. As of 1 Jufy 1816 directors were appointed for four different institutions in The Hague, the Koninklijke Bibliotheek (with the Koninklijk Penningkabinet ) , the Koninklijk Kabinet van Schilderijen and the Yoninklijk Kabinet van Zeldzaamheden (Note 80) . From that time these institutions led independenl lives. The king continued to lake a keen interest in them and not merely in respect of collecting Their accommodation in The Hague was already too cramped in 1816. By a Royal Decree of 18 May 1819 the Hotel Huguetan, the former palace of the. crown prince on Lange Voorhout, was earmarked for the Koninklijke Bibliotheek and the Koninklijk Penningkabinet (Note 87) . while at the king's behest the Mauritshuis, which had been rented up to then, was bought by the State on 27 March 1820 and on IO July allotted to the Koninklijk Kabinet van Schilderijen and the Koninklijk Kabinet van Zeldzaamheden (Note 88). Only the Koninklijk Kabinet van Schilderijen is still in the place assigned to it by William and the collection has meanwhile become so identified with its home that it is generally known as the Mauritshui.s'. William i's most important gift was made in July 1816,just after the foundation of the four royal institutions, when he had deposited most of the objects that his father had taken first to England and later to Oranienstein in the Koninklijk Kabinet van Zeldzaamheden. The rarities (Fig. 17), curios (Fig. 18) and paintings (Fig. 19), remained there (Note 84), while the other art objects were sorted and divided between the Koninklijke Bibliotheek (the manuscripts and books) and the koninklijk Penningkabinet (the cameos and gems) (Note 85). In 1819 and 182 the king also gave the Koninklijke Bibliotheek an important part of the Nassau Library from the castle at Dillenburg. Clearly he is one of the European monarchs who in the second half of the 18th and the 19th century made their collectiorts accessible to the public, and thus laid the foundatinns of many of today's museums. But William 1 also made purchases on behalf of the institutions he had created. For the Koninklijke Bibliotheek, for example, he had the 'Tweede Historiebijbel', made in Utrecht around 1430, bought in Louvain in 1829 for 1, 134 guilders (Pigs.30,3 I, Note 92). For the Koninkijk Penningkabinet he bought a collection of 62 gems and four cameos , for ,50,000 guilders in 1819. This had belonged to the philosopher Frans Hemsterhuis, the keeper of his father's cabinet of antiquities (Note 95) . The most spectacular acquisition. for the Penninukabinet., however, was a cameo carved in onyx, a late Roman work with the Triumph of Claudius, which the king bought in 1823 for 50,000 guilders, an enormous sum in those days. The Koninklijk Kabinet van Zeldzaamhedert also received princely gifts. In 1821- the so-called doll's house of Tzar Peter was bought out of the king's special funds for 2.800 guilders (Figs.33, 34, ,Note 97) , while even in 1838, when no more money was available for art, unnecessary expenditure on luxury' the Von Siebold ethnographical collection was bought at the king's behest for over 55,000 guilders (Note 98). The Koninklijk Kabinel van Schilderyen must have been close to the hearl of the king, who regarded it as an extension of the palace (Notes 99, 100) . The old master paintings he acquzred for it are among the most important in the collection (the modern pictures, not dealt with here, were transferred to the Paviljoen Welgelegen in Haarlem in 1838, Note 104). For instance, in 1820 he bought a portrait of Johan Maurice of Nassau (Fig.35)., while in 1822, against the advice of the then director, he bought Vermeer' s View of Delft for 2,900 guilders (Fig.36, Note 105) and in 1827 it was made known, from Brussels that His Majesty had recommended the purchase of Rogier van der Weyden's Lamentation (Fig.37) . The most spectacular example of the king's love for 'his' museum, however, is the purchase in 1828 of Rembrandt's Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp for 32,000 guilders. The director of the Rijksmuseum, C. Apostool, cortsidered this Rembrandt'sfinest painting and had already drawn attention to it in 1817, At the king'.s behest the picture, the purchase of which had been financed in part by the sale of a number of painlings from. the Rijksmuseum, was placed in the Koninklijk Kabinet van Schilderijen in The Hague. On his accession King William I had left the art objects which had become state propery after being ceded by the French to the Batavian Republic in 1795 as they were. He reclaimed the collections carried off to France as his own property, but it can be deduced from the Royal Decrees of 1815 and 1816 that it Was his wish that they should be made over to the State, including those paintings that form the nucleus of the collection in the Mauritshuis. In addition, in 1816 he handed over many art objects which his father had taken with him into exile. His son, William II, later accepted this, after having the matter investigated (Note 107 and Appendix IV). Thus William I'S munificence proves to have been much more extensive than has ever been realized.

Decadent authors writing about the past share a common artistic practice: revisionist creativity. I argue in my Zoom sur les décadents that this particular type of creativity uses as its main device recombination of legends, myths, and historical events. Historical, cultural or religious figures are reexamined and shown in a new unexpected light. I show in my book how Villiers de Isle-Adam conflates two crucial battles of the Ancient world: Marathon (490 BC) and Thermopiles (480 BC) in ashort story called "Impatience de la foule." The final result of Villiers's telescoping of separate historical events is a seamless narrative. In Hugues Rebell's "Une Saison à Baia," Saint Paul attempts to convert Roman patricians who mock his incoherent speeches. In "La Gloire de Judas," Bernard Lazare departs from the Gospels and tells the tragic story of Judas whose betrayal made the salvation of the human race possible. In Lazare's short story, Judas is a self-effacing figure who doesn't act on his own but on Jesus Christ's specific order, who sworns him into secrecy.Common in French decadent fiction, religious revisionism was largely tolerated in the secular Third Republic. Whereas censorship was quick to punish naturalist authors writing about debauched clergy in contemporary France (e.g. Louis Deprez and Henry Fèvre's Autour d'un clocher) decadent authors reinventing ancient religious stories and retelling the life of catholic saints enjoyed a relative freedom ofexpression.It is my hypothesis that taken out of its secular context, religious revisionism of the kind practiced by French decadents may be seen as shocking transgression in a fiercely catholic country like Poland. In the country that lost its independence in 1794 and was ever since seeking to regain it, Catholic Church was perceived as an essential ally in the struggle against main occupying powers: Orthodox Russia, and Protestant Prussia. In the course of the 19th century Catholicism and patriotism had been effectively fused in Polish national conscience. In this charged political context a Polish author revisiting Church dogma or tradition was at risk of being perceived not only as a religious outcast but also as a traitor to the cause of Polish independence.To test my hypothesis I propose to examine Igrzysko (Game), a forgotten play by Leopold Staff. Admired today chiefly as a poet, the young Staff wrote Igrzysko in Poland after a long sojourn in Paris where he had lived among the international crowd of fin de siècle writers and artists. The play was first produced in Lemberg in 1909 and after a few performances vanished forever from Polish theatrical repertoire.Leopold Staff's play is set in ancient Rome and depicts tribulations of an actor who, while impersonating a Christian awaiting crucifixion, converts to Christianity. In his play, Staff revives the legend of Saint Genesius, an actor in Arles who died a martyr's death in 286 under Diocletian. In Spain, Saint Genesius's legend inspired Lope de Vega who wrote Acting is Believing (Lo fingido verdadero, 1607). In France, it was the source for Jean Rotrou's Saint Genest (1646). All told, the legend of Genesius is a popular theme for artists who wish to explore the distinction between art and life. An important addition to this old tradition, Staff's play contains, however, a decadent and potentially scandalous twist. Unlike in Acting is Believing and Saint Genest, the protagonist's conversion is very short lived in Igrzysko. Fearing pain, Staff's character commits suicide and is, therefore, condemned for eternity. In my paper, I will discuss the significance of Staff's religious transgression in the context of the turn of the century arch-catholic and patriotic Poland.

In the first half of the 19th century in literature on art the term ‘Old Masters’ was disseminated (Alte Meister, maître ancienns, etc.), this in relation to the concept of New Masters. However, contrary to the widespread view, it did not result from the name institutionalization of public museums (in Munich the name Alte Pinakothek was given in 1853, while in Dresden the Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister was given its name only after 1956). Both names, however, feature in collection catalogues, books, articles, press reports, as well as tourist guides. The term ‘Old Masters’ with reference to the artists of the modern era appeared in the late 17th century among the circles of English connoisseurs, amateur experts in art (John Evelyn, 1696). Meanwhile, the Great Tradition: from Filippo Villani and Alberti to Bellori, Baldinucci, and even Winckelmann, implied the use of the category of ‘Old Masters’ (antico, vecchio) in reference to ancient: Greek-Roman artists. There existed this general conceptual opposition: old (identified with ancient) v. new (the modern era). An attempt is made to answer when this tradition was broken with, when and from what sources the concept (and subsequently the term) ‘Old Masters’ to define artists later than ancient was formed; namely the artists who are today referred to as mediaeval and modern (13th–18th c.). It was not a single moment in history, but a long intermittent process, leading to 18th- century connoisseurs and scholars who formalized early-modern collecting, antiquarian market, and museology. The discerning and naming of the category in-between ancient masters (those referred to appropriately as ‘old’) and contemporary or recent (‘new’) artists resulted from the attempts made to systemize and categorize the chronology of art history for the needs of new collector- and connoisseurship in the second half of the 16th and in the 17th century. The old continuum of history of art was disrupted by Giorgio Vasari (Vite, 1550, 1568) who created the category of ‘non-ancient old’, ‘our old masters’, or ‘old-new’ masters (vecchi e non antichi, vecchi maestri nostri, i nostri vecchi, i vecchi moderni). The intuition of this ‘in-between’ the vecchi moderni and maestri moderni can be found in some writers-connoisseurs in the early 17th (e.g. Giulio Mancini). The Vasarian category of the ‘old modern’ is most fully reflected in the compartmentalizing of history conducted by Carel van Mander (Het Schilder-Boeck, 1604), who divided painters into: 1) oude (oude antijcke), ancient, antique, 2) oude modern, namely old modern; 3) modern; very modern, living currently. The oude modern constitute a sequence of artists beginning with the Van Eyck brothers to Marten de Vosa, preceding the era of ‘the famous living Netherlandish painters’. The in-between status of ‘old modern’ was the topic of discourse among the academic circles, formulated by Jean de La Bruyère (1688; the principle of moving the caesura between antiquité and modernité), Charles Perrault (1687–1697: category of le notre siècle preceded by le siècle passé, namely the grand masters of the Renaissance), and Pellegrino Antonio Orlandi writing from the position of an academic studioso for connoisseurs and collectors (Abecedario pittorico, 1704, 1719, 1733, 1753; the antichimoderni category as distinct from the i viventi). Together with Christian von Mechel (1781, 1783) the new understanding of ‘old modernity’ enters the scholarly domain of museology and the devising of displays in royal and ducal galleries opened to the public, undergoing the division into national categories (schools) and chronological ones in history of art becoming more a science (hence the alte niederländische/deutsche Meister or Schule). While planning and describing painterly schools at the Vienna Belvedere Gallery, the learned historian and expert creates a tripartite division of history, already without any reference to antiquity, and with a meaningful shift in eras: Alte, Neuere, and lebende Meister, namely ‘Old Masters’ (14th–16th/17th c.), ‘New Masters’ (Late 17th c. and the first half of the 18th c.), and contemporary ‘living artists’. The Alte Meister ceases to define ancient artists, while at the same time the unequivocally intensifying hegemony of antique attitudes in collecting and museology leads almost to an ardent defence of the right to collect only ‘new’ masters, namely those active recently or contemporarily. It is undertaken with fervour by Ludwig Christian von Hagedorn in his correspondence with his brother (1748), reflecting the Enlightenment cult of modernité, crucial for the mental culture of pre-Revolution France, and also having impact on the German region. As much as the new terminology became well rooted in the German-speaking regions (also in terminology applied in auction catalogues in 1719–1800, and obviously in the 19th century for good) and English-speaking ones (where the term ‘Old Masters’ was also used in press in reference to the collections of the National Gallery formed in 1824), in the French circles of the 18th century the traditional division into the ‘old’, namely ancient, and ‘new’, namely modern, was maintained (e.g. Recueil d’Estampes by Pierre Crozat), and in the early 19th century, adopted were the terms used in writings in relation to the Academy Salon (from 1791 located at Louvre’s Salon Carré) which was the venue for alternating displays of old and contemporary art, this justified in view of political and nationalistic legitimization of the oeuvre of the French through the connection with the tradition of the great masters of the past (Charles-Paul Landon, Pierre-Marie Gault de Saint-Germain). As for the German-speaking regions, what played a particular role in consolidating the term: alte Meister, was the increasing Enlightenment – Romantic Medievalism as well as the cult of the Germanic past, and with it a revaluation of old-German painting: altdeutsch. The revision of old-German art in Weimar and Dresden, particularly within the Kunstfreunde circles, took place: from the category of barbarism and Gothic ineptitude, to the apology of the Teutonic spirit and true religiousness of the German Middle Ages (partic. Johann Gottlob von Quandt, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe). In this respect what actually had an impact was the traditional terminology backup formed in the Renaissance Humanist Germanics (ethnogenetic studies in ancient Germanic peoples, their customs, and language), which introduced the understanding of ancient times different from classical-ancient or Biblical-Christian into German historiography, and prepared grounds for the altdeutsche Geschichte and altdeutsche Kunst/Meister concepts. A different source area must have been provided by the Reformation and its iconoclasm, as well as the reaction to it, both on the Catholic, post-Tridentine side, and moderate Lutheran: in the form of paintings, often regarded by the people as ‘holy’ and ‘miraculous’; these were frequently ancient presentations, either Italo-Byzantine icons or works respected for their old age. Their ‘antiquity’ value raised by their defenders as symbols of the precedence of Christian cult at a given place contributed to the development of the concept of ‘ancient’ and ‘old’ painters in the 17th–18th century.

RESUMENEste trabajo presenta los resultados de la última documentación y estudio de los grabados existentes en el Pozo de la Cruz, que forman parte de las estructuras visibles en el yacimiento arqueológico de San Marcial de Rubicón (Yaiza, Lanzarote, España). Gracias al uso combinado de la fotografía nocturna y de la fotogrametría 3D, y a partir del análisis detallado de dos de sus grabados más singulares, se propone una nueva hipótesis de trabajo que apoya en gran medida la teoría inicial lanzada por sus descubridores a finales de la década de 1980. El objetivo es arrojar luz sobre uno de los hallazgos más polémicos de la arqueología canaria, sobre el que se han construido y apoyado varias teorías hasta la fecha. Palabras clave: grabados, pozos, fotogrametría, podomorfos, marcas de cantero Topónimos: islas Canarias, Lanzarote Período: Edad Media ABSTRACTThis paper presents the results of the latest documents and studies on the existing engravings in Pozo de la Cruz, which are part of the visible structures in the archaeological site of San Marcial de Rubicón (Yaiza, Lanzarote, Spain). Thanks to the use of 3D photogrammetry and from the detailed analysis of two of its most unique engravings, a new working hypothesis is proposed supporting the initial theory launched by its discoverers in the late 1980s. The aim is to shed light on one of the most fascinating archaeological findings in the Canary Islands, on which several theories have been built and supported to date. Keywords: engravings, wells, photogrammetry, footprints, stonemason marks Place names: Canary Islands, Lanzarote Period: Middle Ages REFERENCIASAlarcón, F. J. (2010): “Enterramientos fenicio-púnicos hallados en 1997 en un solar de la c/ Tolosa Latour”, A. M. Niveau de Villedary y V. Gómez (coords.), La necrópolis de Cádiz. Apuntes de arqueología gaditana en homenaje a J.F. Sibón Olano, Cádiz, pp. 93-119.Alexander, J. y Martin, T. (2014): “Sistemas constructivos en las fases iniciales de la catedral de Santiago: una nueva mirada al edificio románico a través de las marcas de cantería”, En el principio: Génesis de la catedral románica de Santiago de Compostela, pp. 142-164. Almagro-Gorbea, M. y Lorrio, A. J. (2015): “Nuevas joyas feno-púnicas de Villaricos”, Rivista di Studi Fenici, 53, pp. 67-90.Alonso Ruiz, B. (2014): “La catedral gótica de Jaén”, Laboratorio de Arte (Universidad de Sevilla), 26, pp. 47-71.Alvarado Planas, J. (2009): Heráldica, simbolismo y usos tradicionales de las corporaciones de oficios, las marcas de canteros, Madrid, Hidalguía. Arqueocanaria (2006): Propuesta de clasificación y estudio de los materiales arqueológicos procedentes del ingenio azucarero de Alonso Fernández de Lugo en Agaete. Gran Canaria (años 1486-1642), Inédito. Atoche Peña, P., Martín Culebras, J., Ramírez Rodríguez, M. A., González Antón, R., Del Arco Aguilar, M. C., Santana Santana, A., Mendieta Pino, C.A. (1999): “Pozos con cámara de factura antigua en Rubicón (Lanzarote)”, VIII Jornadas de Estudios sobre Lanzarote y Fuerteventura, Arrecife, 1997, pp. 365-419. Atoche Peña, P. y Ramírez Rodríguez, M. Á. (2009): “Manifestaciones rupestres protohistóricas de Lanzarote: viejas y nuevas iconografías en un diferente contexto cronológico, cultural e interpretativo”, Grabados rupestres de la fachada atlántica europea y africana, BAR International Series 2043, pp. 187-209.Aznar, E., Corbella, D., Pico, B., y Tejera, A. (coords.) (2006): Le Canarien. Retrato de dos mundos, La Laguna, Instituto de Estudios Canarios. Aznar Vallejo, E. (1988): “El capítulo de Canarias en el islario de André Thevet”. VI Coloquio de Historia Canario-Americana (1992), II, pp. 829-862.—(2000): “Iglesia y ‘nación castellana’ en la Baja Edad Media: el caso de Canarias”, Almogarén, 26, pp. 35-48.—(2006): “Conquistar y colonizar en las regiones meridionales”, Le Canarien: Retrato de dos mundos, 2, pp. 63-88.Beltrán Fortes, J. (en prensa): “El anfiteatro de Itálica (Santiponce, Sevilla). Análisis arqueológico de los espacios y cultos documentados en el edificio en época romana imperial”, Analecta Malacitana Revista electrónica. Bertilsson, U. (2013): “Divine footprints. Traces of cosmological archetypes and prehistoric religion on the rock faces”, Art as a Source of History. Papers XXV Valcamonica Symposium 2013, Capo di Monte, pp. 163-172.Bertrandy, F. y Sznycer, M. (1987): Les stèles puniques de Constantine, Paris, Musée du Louvre, Éditions de la Réunion des musées nationaux.Bonde, S., Mark, R. y Robison, E. C. (2002): “Muros y otros elementos verticales”, Tecnología arquitectónica hasta la revolución científica, Akal, pp. 73-164.Borrela, L. (1996): “Iconografia pacense: Castelo de Beja, XVI. Torre de menagem”, Diario do Alentejo, 30 de agosto de 1996. Caballero Mújica, F. (1996): Documentos episcopales canarios, Real Sociedad Económica de Amigos del País, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria.Cabrera Pérez, J. C., Perera Betancor, M. A. y Tejera Gaspar, A. (1999): Majos. La primitiva población de Lanzarote, Islas Canarias, Madrid, Fundación César Manrique.Caridad Arias, J. (2010): “Las antiguas divinidades Tanit, Támara o Tamar, Tara o Tana y su proyección en la religión de los canarios”, Almogaren XLI (Institutum Canarium), Wien, pp. 95-112.Chaves, L. (1917): “Arqueología artística”, O archeólogo portugués,XXIII pp. 220-237. Cressier, P. (2001): “El acarreo de obras antiguas en la arquitectura islámica de primera época”, Cuadernos Emeritenses, 17, pp. 309-334.Del Arco Aguilar, M. C., González Antón, R., De Balbín Behrmann, R., Bueno Ramírez, P., Rosario Adrián, M. C., Del Arco Aguilar, M. M. y González Ginovés, L. (2000): “Tanit en Canarias: iconografía”, Eres. Arqueología/Bioantropología, 9, pp. 43-65.Dobrez, P. (2017): “From tracks to gesture-derived inscription: An australian genealogy for ‘tracks and lines’ petroglyphs”, Rock Art Research, 34, pp. 149-168.Dunbabin, K. M. D. (1990): “Ipsa Deae Vestigia... Footsprints Divine and Human on Graeco-Roman Monuments”, Journal of Roman Archaeology, 3, pp. 85-109.Eisenberg-Degen, D. y Nash, G. (2015), “Foot and Sandal prints Ramat Matred, the Negev Desert, Israel”, ARKEOS, 37, pp. 355-360.Esquieu, Y., Hartmann-Virnich, A., Baud, A., Costantini, F., Guild, R., Pitte, D., Prigent, D., Parron, I., Reveyron, N., Saint-Jean-Vitus, B., Sapin, C. y Tardieu, J. (2007): “Les signes lapidaires dans la construction médiévale: études de cas et problèmes de méthode”, Bulletin Monumental, 165-4, pp. 331-358.Falchi, M. P. y Podestá, M. M. (2015): “Aquí estuvimos, por acá pasamos. Grabados de pisadas y huellas humanas en los desiertos sur andinos”, ARKEOS, 37, pp. 289-312.Ferrer Albelda, E. (2015): “El ‘signo de Tanit’ en la península ibérica”, A. Bernabé y J.A. Álvarez-Pedrosa (eds.), Orientalística en tiempos de crisis, Actas del VI Congreso Nacional del Centro de Estudios del Próximo Oriente, pp.167-179.Feijoo Martínez, S. y Alba Calzado, M. A. (2002): “El sentido de la Alcazaba emiral de Mérida: su aljibe, mezquita y torre de señales”, Mérida, excavaciones arqueológicas, 8, pp. 565-586.Fernández Gómez, J. H., López Grande, M. J., Mezquida Orti, A., Velázquez Brieva, F. (2009): Amuletos púnicos de hueso hallados en Ibiza. Treballs del Museu Arqueològic d´Eivissa i Formentera, Eivissa: Govern Balear.Fossati, A. E. (2019): Messages from the Past: Rock Art of Al-Hajar Mountains (The Archaeological Heritage of Oman), Archaeopress. García García, F. A. (2010): “El crismón”, Revista Digital de Iconografía Medieval, vol. II, núm. 3, pp. 21-31.Gsell, S. (1920): Historie ancienne de L’Afrique du Nord. Tome IV, Paris, Librairie Hachette.Guarducci, M. (1942-43): “Le impronte del Quo Vadis e monumenti affini, figurati ed epigrafici”, Rendiconti della Pontificia Accademia Romana di Archeologia, 19 (ser. 3), pp. 305-44.Hernández Cabrera, J. O. (2021): “Hitos falsables en la arqueología del poblamiento antiguo de las islas canarias. I. La Piedra de Anaga de Manuel de Ossuna y Van Den Heede (1845-1921)”, XVI Jornadas de Estudios sobre Fuerteventura y Lanzarote (29 de septiembre al 2 de octubre de 2015), Tomo I (Prehistoria y Arqueología). Archivo General Insular, Cabildo de Fuerteventura y Cabildo de Lanzarote, Puerto del Rosario, pp. 215-247.Huang, L. (2015): “Les marques lapidaires de Sainte-Foy de Conques (Aveyron, France)”, Actes du XIXè Colloque International de Glyptographie de Colmar (France), pp. 263-308. Khan, M. (2013): “Rock Art of Saudi Arabia”, Arts, 2, pp. 447-475; doi:10.3390/arts2040447. Kolber, J. (2015): “Walking Around Chaco: Foot and Sandal Prints in the Rock-art of Chaco Culture National Historical Park”, ARKEOS, 37, pp. 313-318.Lipinski, E. (1992) : “Signe de Tanit”, E. Lipinski (Dir.), Dictionnaire de la civilisation phénicienne et puniche, Brepols, Belgique, pp. 416-419.López-Menchero, V. M., Marchante, Á., Vincent, M., Cárdenas, Á. J., y Onrubia, J. (2017): “Uso combinado de la fotografía digital nocturna y de la fotogrametría en los procesos de documentación de petroglifos: El caso de Alcázar de San Juan (Ciudad Real, España)”, Virtual Archaeology Review, vol. 8, núm. 17, pp. 64-74. Louart, A. (2018) : “L’empreinte humaine dans la vallée de l’oued Çayyad. Les gravures podomorphes”, D. Huyge y F. Van Noten (eds.), What Ever Happened to the People? Humans and Anthropomorphs in the Rock Art of Northern Africa, Bruselas, Royal Academy for Overseas Sciences-Royal Museums of Art and History, pp. 35-44.Maroto Rodríguez, I. D. (2018): “Los esclavos públicos e imperiales como agentes culturales en Hispania”, Revista de Historiografía (RevHisto), 28, pp. 139-166.Martín Ruiz, J. A. (2015): “La colonización fenicia en las islas canarias. Una cuestión a debate”, Albahri entre oriente y occidente: Revista independiente de estudios históricos, núm. 1, pp. 9-42. Mayoral Castillo, Á. L. (2015): “Podomorfos, footprints, pediformi, pédiformes”, TRACCE Online Rock Art Bulletin, 34. Menéndez Fueyo, J. L. (2007): “Firmar la tinaja, marcar la historia. Marcas y grafitis en las cerámicas de Santa María de Alicante”, MARQ, arqueología y museos, núm. 2, pp. 107-130.Perera Betancort, M. A. y León Hernández, J. de (1996): “Nuevas estaciones de grabados rupestres de Lanzarote en relación con el contexto arqueológico de los majos”, XI Coloquio de Historia Canario-Americana, 1, pp. 251-290.Perera Betancor, M.A., Rodríguez Rodríguez, J., García Pérez, L., Montelongo Franquiz, A.M., Farray Barreto, J., Álvarez Pérez, M., León Machín, N. de y Medina Medina, M. (2021): “Concomitancias de elementos arqueológicos de Fuerteventura y Lanzarote. Analogías y disimilitudes”, XVI Jornadas de Estudios sobre Fuerteventura y Lanzarote (29 de septiembre al 2 de octubre de 2015), Tomo I (Prehistoria y Arqueología). Archivo General Insular, Cabildo de Fuerteventura y Cabildo de Lanzarote, Puerto del Rosario, pp. 13-66.Ramiro Rodero, R., López-Menchero Bendicho, V. M., Marchante Ortega, A., Cárdenas Martín-Buitrago, Á. J., García Zamorano, P. M. y Onrubia Pintado, J. (2018): Grabados rupestres en La Mancha centro: documentación y estudio de un patrimonio desconocido, Archaeopress. Rodríguez Estévez, J. C. (2014): “Maestros del tardogótico castellano en las Islas Canarias. La catedral de Las Palmas”, Arquitectura tardogótica en la Corona de Castilla: trayectorias e intercambios, pp. 201-214.Rodríguez Oliva, P. (1987): “Representación de pies en el arte Antiguo de los territorios malacitanos”, Baética: Estudios de arte, geografía e historia, 10, pp. 189-210. Rosa, G. y Sousa, M. J. (2017): Catálogo de signos lapidarios y criptografía. Volumen III. La Alcarria. Aache ediciones. Ržiha, F. von (1881): Studien über Steinmetz-Zeichen; T.1/2, Von dem Zeichenwesen im Allgemeinen, Kaiserlich-Königliche Hof- und Staatsdr.—(2010), Études sur les marques de tailleurs de Pierre, Ed. La Nef de Salomon.Serra Rafols, E. y Cioranescu, A. (1964): Le Canarien. Crónicas francesas de la conquista de Canarias, Tomo III, Texto G, Instituto de Estudios Canarios. Serra i Ráfols, J. de C. (1960): “Memoria de la excavación del castillo de Rubicón (abril de 1960)”, Revista de Historia Canaria, 131-132, pp. 357-370.Soler Segura, J. (2005): “Interpretando lo rupestre. Visiones y significados de los podomorfos en Canarias”, Traballos de Arqueoloxia e Patrimonio, 33, pp. 165-178.Tejera Gaspar, A. y Aznar Vallejo, E. (1987): “San Marcial del Rubicón. Primer asentamiento europeo en Canarias (1402)”, II Congreso de Arqueología Medieval Española, pp.732-739. —(1989): El asentamiento franco-normando de “San Marcial de Rubicón” (Yaiza, Lanzarote). Un modelo de arqueología de contacto. España, Ayuntamiento de Yaiza (Lanzarote).Tejera Gaspar, A. y Chávez Álvarez, M.ª E. (2005): “El signo de Tanit y la religión de los libios. Una hipótesis interpretativa”, Awal, 32, pp. 57-74.Valdés Fernández, F. (1986): Arqueología islámica en la Baja Extremadura. Historia de la Baja Extremadura, Tomo I, Badajoz, pp. 557-599.—(1995): “El aljibe de la Alcazaba de Mérida y la política omeya en el Occidente de al-Andalus”, Extremadura Arqueológica, V, pp. 279-299.—(1998): “El urbanismo islámico de la Extremadura leonesa: cuatro pautas de desarrollo”, Genèse de la ville islamique en al-Andalus et au Maghreb occidental, Madrid, pp. 159-183.Viera y Clavijo, J. (2016): Historia de Canarias. Volumen IV, Ediciones Idea.

Publicamos una pequeña serie de monedas, relacionadas con las piezas conocidas inicialmente como de ejemplares “tipo Auriol”. Se trata de varias imitaciones greco-massaliotas, relacionadas con el ciclo numismático griego del Occidente mediterráneo. La importante novedad de las mismas se fundamenta en el lugar de hallazgo, pues este se ha producido en una zona interior de la Península Ibérica, donde hasta el momento no se había documentado el descubrimiento de numismas de este tipo. Palabras clave: moneda, imitaciones, edetanosTopónimos: Massalia, Emporion, AuriolPeriodo: Edetanos ABSTRACTThe text presents a small series of coins, similar to those initially known as "Auriol type". These are various Greek-Massalian imitations, related to the Greek numismatic cycle of the Western Mediterranean. What makes these coins particularly interesting is their place of discovery, since they were found in an inland area of the Iberian Peninsula, where the appearance of specimens of this type had not previously been documented. Keywords: coin, imitations, AuriolPlace names: Massalia, Emporion,Period: edetans REFERENCIASAmorós, J. V. (1934), Les monedes emporitanes anteriors a les dracmes, Barcelona, Gabinet Numismàtic de Catalunya.Arévalo González, A. (2002), “La moneda griega foránea en la Península Ibérica”, en Actas del X Congreso Nacional de Numismática, Madrid, Museo Casa de la Moneda, pp. 1-15.Babelon, E. C. F. (1901), Traité des monnaies grecques et romaine, vol. 1, Paris, Ernest Leroux Editeur.Benezet, J., Delhoeste, J. Lentillon, J.-P. (2003), “Une monnaie du “type d´Auriol” dans la plaine roussillonnaise”, Cahiers Numismatiques, 158, pp. 5-8.Blancard, M. (1870-1871), “Iconographie des monnaies du trésor d´Auriol acquises par le cabinet des médailles de Marseille”, en Mémoires del´Académie des Sciences, Belles-Lettre et Arts de Maseille, Marseille, Barlatier-Feissat Pére et fils, pp. 17-33.Blanchet, A. (1905), Traité des monnaies gauloises, vol. 1, Paris, Ernest Leroux Editeur.Campo Díaz, M. (1987), “Circulación de monedas massaliotas en la Península Ibérica (s. V-IV a. C.)”, en Mélanges offerts au docteur J. B. Colbert de Beaulieu, Paris, Leópard d`or, pp. 175-187.— (1997), “La moneda griega y su influencia en el contexto indígena”, en Historia monetaria de Hispania antigua, Madrid, Jesús Vico, pp. 19-49.— (2002), “Las emisiones de Emporion y su difusión en el entorno ibérico”, La monetazione dei Focei in Occidente, Atti dell´XI Convegno del Centro Internazionale di studi Numismatici, Roma, Istituto italiano di Numismatica, pp. 139-165.— (2003), “Les primeres imatges gregues: l´inici de les fraccionàries d´Emporion”, en VII Curs d´Història Monetaria d´Hispània. Les imatges monètaries: llenguatge i significat, Barcelona, Museu Nacional d´Art de Catalunya, pp. 25-45. Campo Díaz, M. y Sanmartí, E. (1994), “Nuevos datos para ña cronología de las monedas fraccionarias de Emporion: revisión del tesoro Neapolis-1926”, Huelva Arqueológica, 13, pp. 153-172.Chevillon, J. A. (2002), “Les monnaies archaïques d´Emporion dans le trésor d´Auriol”, Bulletin de la Société Française de Numismatique, 57, pp. 30-33.Chevillon, J. A., Bertaud, O. y Guernier, R. (2008), “Nouvelles données relatives au monnayage archaïque massaliète”, Revue Numismatique, 164, pp. 209-244.Chevillon, J. A. Ripollès, P. P. (2014), “The Greeck Far West: un exceptional adaptation of a design from Asia Menor with bull und lion foreparts”, Journal of the Numismatic Association of Australia, 25, pp. 44-46.Chevillon, J. A., Ripollès, P. P. y López, C. (2013), “Les têtes de taureau dans le mnnayage postarchaïque empuritain du V siècle av. J. C.”, OMNI. Revue Numismatique, 6, pp. 10-14. De Saucy, F., De Berthélemy, A. y Hucher, E. (1875), “Examen détaillée du trésor d´Auriol (Bouches-du-Rhone)”, en Mélanges de Numismatique 1, Paris, Le Mans, pp. 12-44.Furtwängler, A. E. (1971), “Remarques sur les plus anciennes monnaies frapées en Espagne”, Schweizer Münzblätter, 81, pp. 13-21.— (1978), Monnaies grecques en Gaule. Le trésor d´Auriol et le monnayage de Massalia 525/520-460 av. J. C., Fribourg.— (2002), “Monnaies grecques en Gaule: nouvelles trouvalles (6ème-5 ème s. av. J.-C.)”, en La monetazione dei Focei in Occidente. Atti dell`XI Convegno del Centro Internazionale di Studi Numismatici, Rome, Istituto italiano di Numismatica, pp. 93-11.García-Bellido, M. P. (1993), Las cecas libio-fenicias, Ibiza, Museu Arqueologic d´Eivissa e Formentera.— (1998), “La moneda griega de Iberia”, en Los griegos en España, Madrid, Ministerio de Cultura, pp. 158-178. — (2017), “Las copias de la moneda Tipo Auriol en el Golfo de León: foceos y nativos”, Gaceta Numismática, 194, pp. 3-14.Gozalbes Cravioto, E. (2014), “La economía monetaria en la provincia de Cuenca en la antigüedad”, E. Gozalbes Cravioto, J. A. Hernández Rubio y J. A. Almonacid Clavería (coords.), Cuenca: historia en sus monedas, Cuenca, Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, pp. 55-84.— (2017a), “La ceca de Ikalesken y el problema de su localización”, Gaceta Numismática, 193, pp. 3-19.— (2017b), “Una pieza de Urkesken y la localización de la ceca”, Gaceta Numismática, 193, pp. 21-30.Gozalbes Fernández de Palencia, M. y Ripollès, P. P. (2002), “Nuevos hallazgos de monedas foráneas en el territorio de Arse-Saguntum”, en P. P. Ripollès y M. M. Llorens, Arse-Saguntum. Historia monetaria de la ciudad y su territorio, Sagunto, Fundación Bancaja, pp. 528-533.Gozalbes García, H. y Gozalbes Cravioto, E. (2017), “Une obole massaliote datant du Ve siècle av. J. C. sur le territoire de Cuenca (Espagne)”, Bulletin de la Société Française de Numismatique, 72.2, pp. 52-56.Guadán, A. M. (1968), Las monedas de plata de Emporion y Rhode vol. I, Barcelona, Ayuntamiento de Barcelona.— (1970), Las monedas de plata de Emporion y Rhode, vol. II, Barcelona, Ayuntamiento de Barcelona.Lambert, E. (1864), Essai sur la numismatique gauloise du Nord-Ouest de la France, Paris, Derache.Maurel, G. (2013), Corpus des monnaies de Marseille et Provence, Languedoc oriental et vallée du Rhone (520-20 av. notre ère), Montpellier, Omni, 2013.Omos, R. (1995), “Usos de la moneda en la Hispania prerromana y problemas de lectura iconográfica”, en M. P. García-Bellido y R. M. Centeno (eds.), La moneda hispánica. Ciudad y territorio, Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, pp. 41-52.Planas Palau, A. y Martí Mañanes, A. (1991), Las monedas de otras cecas encontradas en Ibiza, Ibiza, Puig Castellar. Ripollès, P. P. (1982), La circulación monetaria en la Tarraconense mediterránea, Valencia, Federico Domenech. — (1985), “Las monedas del tesoro de Morella, conservadas en la B. N de París”, Acta Numismàtica, 19, (1985), pp. 47-64.— (1989), “Fracciones ampuritanas. Estado de la investigación”, Archivo de Prehistoria Levantina, 19,pp. 303-317.— (2005), “Las acuñaciones antiguas de la península Ibérica: dependencias e innovaciones”, en C. Alfaro, C. Marcos y P. Otero (coords.), Actas del XIII Congreso Internacional de Numismática, vol. 1, Madrid, Ministerio de Cultura, pp. 187-208.— (2011), “Cuando la plata se convierte en moneda: Iberia oriental”, en Barter, Money and Coinage in the Ancienr Mediterranean (10th-1st Centuries B.C.). Actas del IV Encuentro Peninsular de Numismátic Antigua, Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, pp. 213-226.— (2013), “Ancient Iberian Coinage”, Documentos Digitales de Arqueología, 2, pp. 1-55.— (2015), “Los divisores ampuritanos con cabeza de carnero y puntos en el campo”, OMNI. Revue Numismatique, 9, pp. 13-16.Ripollès, P. P. Chevillon, J. A. (2013), “The Archaic coinage of Emporion”, The Numismatic Chronicle, 173, pp. 1-21.Ripollès, P. P. y Llorens, M. M. (2002), Arse-Saguntum. Historia monetaria de la ciudad y su territorio, Sagunto, Fundación Bancaja.Rodríguez Casanova, I. (2014), “El tesoro de Valeria: nuevas aportaciones sesenta años después”, en E. Gozalbes, J. A. Hernández Rubio y J. A. Almonacid (coords.), Cuenca: la Historia en sus monedas, Cuenca, Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, pp. 85-106.Savès, G. (1976), Les monnaies gauloises à la croix, Toulouse, Privat, 1976.Villaronga, L. (1987), “Les oboles massaliotes à la roue et leurs imitations dans la Péninsule Ibérique”, en Mélanges offerts au docteur J. B. Colbert de Beaulieu, Paris, Leópard d`or, 1987, pp. 769-777.— (1995), “L´emissió emporitana amb cap de be i revers de creu puntejada de la segona meitat del segle V a.C.”, Acta Numismática, 25, (1995), pp. 17-33.— (1997), Monedes de plata emporitanes dels secles V-VI a. C., Barcelona, Leandre, 1997.— (2003), “La troballa de l´Emporà”, Acta Numismàtica, 33, pp. 15-46.Villaronga, L. Benages, J. (2011), Ancient Coinage of the Iberian Peninsula. Greek, Punic, Iberian, Roman, Barcelona, Societat Catalana d´Estudis Numismàtics, 2011 (citado como ACIP).

D’Annunzio and De Lollis (both born in 1863 and in the same region) present, in their cultural journey, moments of contact and collaboration, especially in the early years, and contrasts and oppositions, mainly due to different artistic choices and general attitude that led De Lollis to strongly criticise the Poet. From the initial common collaborations with Roman newspapers, we arrive at the moment in which De Lollis moves against d’Annunzio’s art, which was no longer based on solid ethical principles as in the Carduccian lesson but was seen as a superficial and soul-less art, in the triumph of rhetoric. The decisive difference was revealed at the time Italy entered the war, when De Lollis openly criticised d'Annunzio’s position as soon as he returned from France.

En 1923, Édouard Garand fonde à Montréal une maison d’édition destinée à promouvoir la littérature canadienne au sein de la classe populaire et francophone à travers le pays. Gérard Malchelosse, membre du comité éditorial, témoigne à l’époque de l’ancrage nationaliste des éditions : il s’agit d’« une édition canadienne de romans canadiens, écrits pour des Canadiens par des Canadiens et imprimés au Canada par des Canadiens. C’est une entreprise nationale destinée à fournir un stimulant de patriotisme, tout en aidant les auteurs de chez nous en propageant leurs ouvrages ». Bien que ces affirmations pourraient laisser croire que les éditions Édouard Garand s’adressent exclusivement à un public local à même de partager leurs préoccupations, l’étude de la distribution de la collection « Le Roman canadien » nous informe sur des réseaux commerciaux de distribution particulièrement étendus : au premier plan de ce rayonnement extérieur se trouvent les villes des colonies françaises et britanniques, ainsi que l’Amérique, depuis New York jusqu’à Buenos Aires.L’article propose l’étude de ces réseaux en regard de leurs positionnements coloniaux, politiques et marchands, tout en mettant en contexte ce rayonnement par rapport aux activités d’exportation de livres canadiens de l’époque. L’étude des documents constituant le Fonds Édouard-Garand (Université de Montréal) permet de constater la mise en place de deux réseaux distincts. Dès 1926, on annonce que les romans canadiens sont vendus dans des points de dépôt en France, en Grande-Bretagne, mais aussi, de manière plus surprenante, à Saigon, à Alger et au Cap. L’éditeur semble alors exploiter les réseaux marchands de comptoirs coloniaux français et britanniques pour participer à la diffusion, au sein de différentes librairies francophones, de la littérature canadienne outremer. Puis, à partir de 1944, alors que la France est encore sous l’Occupation, Montréal devient la plaque tournante de l’édition francophone mondiale, et Garand en profite pour ouvrir de nouveaux réseaux de distribution vers l’Amérique latine, convoquant un ensemble de relations diplomatiques et politiques canadiennes. Le roman canadien vise alors notamment les dépositaires en Argentine, au Chili, en Colombie, à Cuba et au Pérou, par le biais des représentants commerciaux et des fonctionnaires du Ministère des Affaires extérieures du Canada. Cette entreprise ne vise toutefois pas, chez l’éditeur, une inscription dans des réseaux d’échanges intellectuels et culturels suivant l’axe nord-sud, étudiés notamment par Michel Lacroix et Michel Nareau. Du côté du commerce, le système mis en place par l’éditeur montréalais touche moins l’économie du savoir que la mise en marché.

Plouffe, Manon. Louis Jolliet, Explorateur et cartographe. Québec : Éditions de l’isatis. 2014 http://www.editionsdelisatis.com/les-collections/bonjour-lhistoire/louis-jolliet/Le nom de Louis Jolliet m’était familier, comme pour beaucoup de Canadiens-français et comme beaucoup de Canadiens-français, je ne connaissais à peu près rien des exploits de cet explorateur, de l’époque de la Nouvelle-France, né en 1645 et mort en 1700, qui a traversé des distances impressionnantes en canot et par bateau à la fois au nord et au sud du continent nord-américain. Saviez-vous qu’il s’était rendu aussi loin que le Nouveau-Québec et l’actuelle Louisiane, un parcours très impressionnant quand on connait les moyens de transport de l’époque.De ce livre, apprend bien des faits intéressants et méconnus sur ce héros, de sa naissance à sa mystérieuse disparition en 1700. Saviez-vous qu’il était aussi musicien, qu’il fut le premier organiste de la cathédrale de Québec et le premier seigneur de l’île d’Anticosti? Louis Jolliet, Explorateur et cartographe est présenté comme un récit, mais comporte de courts dialogues, sans toutefois être un roman. L’auteure y emploie des termes d’époque, tels que « lieues » et « Sauvages » (en référence aux Amérindiens), bien indiqués par un astérisque, qui nous renvoie à un lexique à la fin de l’ouvrage. Des termes spécialisés sont aussi compris dans ce lexique. A la toute fin de l’ouvrage, on y décrit également des personnages contemporains à Jolliet et on fournit des repères chronologiques de cette époque.Si l’ensemble a le pouvoir de rendre tout amateur d’histoire nostalgique, l’ouvrage paraîtra cependant vieillot aux yeux du lecteur juvénile. Les illustrations sont également plutôt vieillottes dans leur style et leur monochromie : seuls le noir, le gris et le rouge sont utilisés dans les illustrations.Note : Trois étoilesCritique par : Hélène FlamandDr. Flamand est psychologue scolaire de formation. Elle enseigne présentement à la Faculté St-Jean (University of Alberta), en plus de maintenir une pratique privée. Mme Flamand est mère de famille. Elle est également auteure d'une série de livres pour enfants.

The curtain rose. The howling of desert wind filled the performance hall in the Shanghai Grand Theatre. Into the center stage, where a scenic construction of a mountain cliff and a desert landscape was dimly lit, entered the character of the Daoist priest Wang Yuanlu (1849–1931), performed by Chen Yizong. Dressed in a worn and dusty outfit of dark blue cotton, characteristic of Daoist priests, Wang began to sweep the floor. After a few moments, he discovered a hidden chambre sealed inside one of the rock sanctuaries carved into the cliff.Signaled by the quick, crystalline, stirring wave of sound from the chimes, a melodious Chinese ocarina solo joined in slowly from the background. Astonished by thousands of Buddhist sūtra scrolls, wall paintings, and sculptures he had just accidentally discovered in the caves, Priest Wang set his broom aside and began to examine these treasures. Dawn had not yet arrived, and the desert sky was pitch-black. Priest Wang held his oil lamp high, strode rhythmically in excitement, sat crossed-legged in a meditative pose, and unfolded a scroll. The sound of the ocarina became fuller and richer and the texture of the music more complex, as several other instruments joined in.Below is the opening scene of the award-winning, theatrical dance-drama Dunhuang, My Dreamland, created by China’s state-sponsored Lanzhou Song and Dance Theatre in 2000. Figure 1a: Poster Side A of Dunhuang, My Dreamland Figure 1b: Poster Side B of Dunhuang, My DreamlandThe scene locates the dance-drama in the rock sanctuaries that today are known as the Dunhuang Mogao Caves, housing Buddhist art accumulated over a period of a thousand years, one of the best well-known UNESCO heritages on the Silk Road. Historically a frontier metropolis, Dunhuang was a strategic site along the Silk Road in northwestern China, a crossroads of trade, and a locus for religious, cultural, and intellectual influences since the Han dynasty (206 B.C.E.–220 C.E.). Travellers, especially Buddhist monks from India and central Asia, passing through Dunhuang on their way to Chang’an (present day Xi’an), China’s ancient capital, would stop to meditate in the Mogao Caves and consult manuscripts in the monastery's library. At the same time, Chinese pilgrims would travel by foot from China through central Asia to Pakistan, India, Nepal, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka, playing a key role in the exchanges between ancient China and the outside world. Travellers from China would stop to acquire provisions at Dunhuang before crossing the Gobi Desert to continue on their long journey abroad. Figure 2: Dunhuang Mogao CavesThis article approaches the idea of “abroad” by examining the present-day imagination of journeys along the Silk Road—specifically, staged performances of the various Silk Road journey-themed dance-dramas sponsored by the Chinese state for enhancing its cultural and foreign policies since the 1970s (Kuang).As ethnomusicologists have demonstrated, musicians, choreographers, and playwrights often utilise historical materials in their performances to construct connections between the past and the present (Bohlman; Herzfeld; Lam; Rees; Shelemay; Tuohy; Wade; Yung: Rawski; Watson). The ancient Silk Road, which linked the Mediterranean coast with central China and beyond, via oasis towns such as Samarkand, has long been associated with the concept of “journeying abroad.” Journeys to distant, foreign lands and encounters of unknown, mysterious cultures along the Silk Road have been documented in historical records, such as A Record of Buddhist Kingdoms (Faxian) and The Great Tang Records on the Western Regions (Xuanzang), and illustrated in classical literature, such as The Travels of Marco Polo (Polo) and the 16th century Chinese novel Journey to the West (Wu). These journeys—coming and going from multiple directions and to different destinations—have inspired contemporary staged performance for audiences around the globe.Home and Abroad: Dunhuang and the Silk RoadDunhuang, My Dreamland (2000), the contemporary dance-drama, staged the journey of a young pilgrim painter travelling from Chang’an to a land of the unfamiliar and beyond borders, in search for the arts that have inspired him. Figure 3: A scene from Dunhuang, My Dreamland showing the young pilgrim painter in the Gobi Desert on the ancient Silk RoadFar from his home, he ended his journey in Dunhuang, historically considered the northwestern periphery of China, well beyond Yangguan and Yumenguan, the bordering passes that separate China and foreign lands. Later scenes in Dunhuang, My Dreamland, portrayed through multiethnic music and dances, the dynamic interactions among merchants, cultural and religious envoys, warriors, and politicians that were making their own journey from abroad to China. The theatrical dance-drama presents a historically inspired, re-imagined vision of both “home” and “abroad” to its audiences as they watch the young painter travel along the Silk Road, across the Gobi Desert, arriving at his own ideal, artistic “homeland”, the Dunhuang Mogao Caves. Since his journey is ultimately a spiritual one, the conceptualisation of travelling “abroad” could also be perceived as “a journey home.”Staged more than four hundred times since it premiered in Beijing in April 2000, Dunhuang, My Dreamland is one of the top ten titles in China’s National Stage Project and one of the most successful theatrical dance-dramas ever produced in China. With revenue of more than thirty million renminbi (RMB), it ranks as the most profitable theatrical dance-drama ever produced in China, with a preproduction cost of six million RMB. The production team receives financial support from China’s Ministry of Culture for its “distinctive ethnic features,” and its “aim to promote traditional Chinese culture,” according to Xu Rong, an official in the Cultural Industry Department of the Ministry. Labeled an outstanding dance-drama of the Chinese nation, it aims to present domestic and international audiences with a vision of China as a historically multifaceted and cosmopolitan nation that has been in close contact with the outside world through the ancient Silk Road. Its production company has been on tour in selected cities throughout China and in countries abroad, including Austria, Spain, and France, literarily making the young pilgrim painter’s “journey along the Silk Road” a new journey abroad, off stage and in reality.Dunhuang, My Dreamland was not the first, nor is it the last, staged performances that portrays the Chinese re-imagination of “journeying abroad” along the ancient Silk Road. It was created as one of many versions of Dunhuang bihua yuewu, a genre of music, dance, and dramatic performances created in the early twentieth century and based primarily on artifacts excavated from the Mogao Caves (Kuang). “The Mogao Caves are the greatest repository of early Chinese art,” states Mimi Gates, who works to increase public awareness of the UNESCO site and raise funds toward its conservation. “Located on the Chinese end of the Silk Road, it also is the place where many cultures of the world intersected with one another, so you have Greek and Roman, Persian and Middle Eastern, Indian and Chinese cultures, all interacting. Given the nature of our world today, it is all very relevant” (Pollack). As an expressive art form, this genre has been thriving since the late 1970s contributing to the global imagination of China’s “Silk Road journeys abroad” long before Dunhuang, My Dreamland achieved its domestic and international fame. For instance, in 2004, The Thousand-Handed and Thousand-Eyed Avalokiteśvara—one of the most representative (and well-known) Dunhuang bihua yuewu programs—was staged as a part of the cultural program during the Paralympic Games in Athens, Greece. This performance, as well as other Dunhuang bihua yuewu dance programs was the perfect embodiment of a foreign religion that arrived in China from abroad and became Sinicized (Kuang). Figure 4: Mural from Dunhuang Mogao Cave No. 45A Brief History of Staging the Silk Road JourneysThe staging of the Silk Road journeys abroad began in the late 1970s. Historically, the Silk Road signifies a multiethnic, cosmopolitan frontier, which underwent incessant conflicts between Chinese sovereigns and nomadic peoples (as well as between other groups), but was strongly imbued with the customs and institutions of central China (Duan, Mair, Shi, Sima). In the twentieth century, when China was no longer an empire, but had become what the early 20th-century reformer Liang Qichao (1873–1929) called “a nation among nations,” the long history of the Silk Road and the colourful, legendary journeys abroad became instrumental in the formation of a modern Chinese nation of unified diversity rooted in an ancient cosmopolitan past. The staged Silk Road theme dance-dramas thus participate in this formation of the Chinese imagination of “nation” and “abroad,” as they aestheticise Chinese history and geography. History and geography—aspects commonly considered constituents of a nation as well as our conceptualisations of “abroad”—are “invariably aestheticized to a certain degree” (Bakhtin 208). Diverse historical and cultural elements from along the Silk Road come together in this performance genre, which can be considered the most representative of various possible stagings of the history and culture of the Silk Road journeys.In 1979, the Chinese state officials in Gansu Province commissioned the benchmark dance-drama Rain of Flowers along the Silk Road, a spectacular theatrical dance-drama praising the pure and noble friendship which existed between the peoples of China and other countries in the Tang dynasty (618-907 C.E.). While its plot also revolves around the Dunhuang Caves and the life of a painter, staged at one of the most critical turning points in modern Chinese history, the work as a whole aims to present the state’s intention of re-establishing diplomatic ties with the outside world after the Cultural Revolution. Unlike Dunhuang, My Dreamland, it presents a nation’s journey abroad and home. To accomplish this goal, Rain of Flowers along the Silk Road introduces the fictional character Yunus, a wealthy Persian merchant who provides the audiences a vision of the historical figure of Peroz III, the last Sassanian prince, who after the Arab conquest of Iran in 651 C.E., found refuge in China. By incorporating scenes of ethnic and folk dances, the drama then stages the journey of painter Zhang’s daughter Yingniang to Persia (present-day Iran) and later, Yunus’s journey abroad to the Tang dynasty imperial court as the Persian Empire’s envoy.Rain of Flowers along the Silk Road, since its debut at Beijing’s Great Hall of the People on the first of October 1979 and shortly after at the Theatre La Scala in Milan, has been staged in more than twenty countries and districts, including France, Italy, Japan, Thailand, Russia, Latvia, Hong Kong, Macao, Taiwan, and recently, in 2013, at the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts in New York.“The Road”: Staging the Journey TodayWithin the contemporary context of global interdependencies, performing arts have been used as strategic devices for social mobilisation and as a means to represent and perform modern national histories and foreign policies (Davis, Rees, Tian, Tuohy, Wong, David Y. H. Wu). The Silk Road has been chosen as the basis for these state-sponsored, extravagantly produced, and internationally staged contemporary dance programs. In 2008, the welcoming ceremony and artistic presentation at the Olympic Games in Beijing featured twenty apsara dancers and a Dunhuang bihua yuewu dancer with long ribbons, whose body was suspended in mid-air on a rectangular LED extension held by hundreds of performers; on the giant LED screen was a depiction of the ancient Silk Road.In March 2013, Chinese president Xi Jinping introduced the initiatives “Silk Road Economic Belt” and “21st Century Maritime Silk Road” during his journeys abroad in Kazakhstan and Indonesia. These initiatives are now referred to as “One Belt, One Road.” The State Council lists in details the policies and implementation plans for this initiative on its official web page, www.gov.cn. In April 2013, the China Institute in New York launched a yearlong celebration, starting with "Dunhuang: Buddhist Art and the Gateway of the Silk Road" with a re-creation of one of the caves and a selection of artifacts from the site. In March 2015, the National Development and Reform Commission (NDRC), China’s top economic planning agency, released a new action plan outlining key details of the “One Belt, One Road” initiative. Xi Jinping has made the program a centrepiece of both his foreign and domestic economic policies. One of the central economic strategies is to promote cultural industry that could enhance trades along the Silk Road.Encouraged by the “One Belt, One Road” policies, in March 2016, The Silk Princess premiered in Xi’an and was staged at the National Centre for the Performing Arts in Beijing the following July. While Dunhuang, My Dreamland and Rain of Flowers along the Silk Road were inspired by the Buddhist art found in Dunhuang, The Silk Princess, based on a story about a princess bringing silk and silkworm-breeding skills to the western regions of China in the Tang Dynasty (618-907) has a different historical origin. The princess's story was portrayed in a woodblock from the Tang Dynasty discovered by Sir Marc Aurel Stein, a British archaeologist during his expedition to Xinjiang (now Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region) in the early 19th century, and in a temple mural discovered during a 2002 Chinese-Japanese expedition in the Dandanwulike region. Figure 5: Poster of The Silk PrincessIn January 2016, the Shannxi Provincial Song and Dance Troupe staged The Silk Road, a new theatrical dance-drama. Unlike Dunhuang, My Dreamland, the newly staged dance-drama “centers around the ‘road’ and the deepening relationship merchants and travellers developed with it as they traveled along its course,” said Director Yang Wei during an interview with the author. According to her, the show uses seven archetypes—a traveler, a guard, a messenger, and so on—to present the stories that took place along this historic route. Unbounded by specific space or time, each of these archetypes embodies the foreign-travel experience of a different group of individuals, in a manner that may well be related to the social actors of globalised culture and of transnationalism today. Figure 6: Poster of The Silk RoadConclusionAs seen in Rain of Flowers along the Silk Road and Dunhuang, My Dreamland, staging the processes of Silk Road journeys has become a way of connecting the Chinese imagination of “home” with the Chinese imagination of “abroad.” Staging a nation’s heritage abroad on contemporary stages invites a new imagination of homeland, borders, and transnationalism. Once aestheticised through staged performances, such as that of the Dunhuang bihua yuewu, the historical and topological landscape of Dunhuang becomes a performed narrative, embodying the national heritage.The staging of Silk Road journeys continues, and is being developed into various forms, from theatrical dance-drama to digital exhibitions such as the Smithsonian’s Pure Land: Inside the Mogao Grottes at Dunhuang (Stromberg) and the Getty’s Cave Temples of Dunhuang: Buddhist Art on China's Silk Road (Sivak and Hood). They are sociocultural phenomena that emerge through interactions and negotiations among multiple actors and institutions to envision and enact a Chinese imagination of “journeying abroad” from and to the country.ReferencesBakhtin, M.M. The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays. Austin, Texas: University of Texas Press, 1982.Bohlman, Philip V. “World Music at the ‘End of History’.” Ethnomusicology 46 (2002): 1–32.Davis, Sara L.M. Song and Silence: Ethnic Revival on China’s Southwest Borders. New York: Columbia University Press, 2005.Duan, Wenjie. “The History of Conservation of Mogao Grottoes.” International Symposium on the Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Property: The Conservation of Dunhuang Mogao Grottoes and the Related Studies. Eds. Kuchitsu and Nobuaki. Tokyo: Tokyo National Research Institute of Cultural Properties, 1997. 1–8.Faxian. A Record of Buddhistic Kingdoms. Translated by James Legge. New York: Dover Publications, 1991.Herzfeld, Michael. Ours Once More: Folklore, Ideology, and the Making of Modern Greece. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1985.Kuang, Lanlan. Dunhuang bi hua yue wu: "Zhongguo jing guan" zai guo ji yu jing zhong de jian gou, chuan bo yu yi yi (Dunhuang Performing Arts: The Construction and Transmission of “China-scape” in the Global Context). Beijing: She hui ke xue wen xian chu ban she, 2016.Lam, Joseph S.C. State Sacrifice and Music in Ming China: Orthodoxy, Creativity and Expressiveness. New York: State University of New York Press, 1998.Mair, Victor. T’ang Transformation Texts: A Study of the Buddhist Contribution to the Rise of Vernacular Fiction and Drama in China. Cambridge, Mass.: Council on East Asian Studies, 1989.Pollack, Barbara. “China’s Desert Treasure.” ARTnews, December 2013. Sep. 2016 <http://www.artnews.com/2013/12/24/chinas-desert-treasure/>.Polo, Marco. The Travels of Marco Polo. Translated by Ronald Latham. Penguin Classics, 1958.Rees, Helen. Echoes of History: Naxi Music in Modern China. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.Shelemay, Kay Kaufman. “‘Historical Ethnomusicology’: Reconstructing Falasha Liturgical History.” Ethnomusicology 24 (1980): 233–258.Shi, Weixiang. Dunhuang lishi yu mogaoku yishu yanjiu (Dunhuang History and Research on Mogao Grotto Art). Lanzhou: Gansu jiaoyu chubanshe, 2002.Sima, Guang 司马光 (1019–1086) et al., comps. Zizhi tongjian 资治通鉴 (Comprehensive Mirror for the Aid of Government). Beijing: Guji chubanshe, 1957.Sima, Qian 司马迁 (145-86? B.C.E.) et al., comps. Shiji: Dayuan liezhuan 史记: 大宛列传 (Record of the Grand Historian: The Collective Biographies of Dayuan). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1959.Sivak, Alexandria and Amy Hood. “The Getty to Present: Cave Temples of Dunhuang: Buddhist Art on China’s Silk Road Organised in Collaboration with the Dunhuang Academy and the Dunhuang Foundation.” Getty Press Release. Sep. 2016 <http://news.getty.edu/press-materials/press-releases/cave-temples-dunhuang-buddhist-art-chinas-silk-road>.Stromberg, Joseph. “Video: Take a Virtual 3D Journey to Visit China's Caves of the Thousand Buddhas.” Smithsonian, December 2012. Sep. 2016 <http://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/video-take-a-virtual-3d-journey-to-visit-chinas-caves-of-the-thousand-buddhas-150897910/?no-ist>.Tian, Qing. “Recent Trends in Buddhist Music Research in China.” British Journal of Ethnomusicology 3 (1994): 63–72.Tuohy, Sue M.C. “Imagining the Chinese Tradition: The Case of Hua’er Songs, Festivals, and Scholarship.” Ph.D. Dissertation. Indiana University, Bloomington, 1988.Wade, Bonnie C. Imaging Sound: An Ethnomusicological Study of Music, Art, and Culture in Mughal India. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998.Wong, Isabel K.F. “From Reaction to Synthesis: Chinese Musicology in the Twentieth Century.” Comparative Musicology and Anthropology of Music: Essays on the History of Ethnomusicology. Eds. Bruno Nettl and Philip V. Bohlman. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991. 37–55.Wu, Chengen. Journey to the West. Tranlsated by W.J.F. Jenner. Beijing: Foreign Languages Press, 2003.Wu, David Y.H. “Chinese National Dance and the Discourse of Nationalization in Chinese Anthropology.” The Making of Anthropology in East and Southeast Asia. Eds. Shinji Yamashita, Joseph Bosco, and J.S. Eades. New York: Berghahn, 2004. 198–207.Xuanzang. The Great Tang Dynasty Record of the Western Regions. Hamburg: Numata Center for Buddhist Translation & Research, 1997.Yung, Bell, Evelyn S. Rawski, and Rubie S. Watson, eds. Harmony and Counterpoint: Ritual Music in Chinese Context. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996.

Après avoir été peint et décrit avec des traits plus pittoresques qu’objectifs par les premiers voyageurs et chercheurs qui traversaient les Alpes, mus tantôt par l’idée d’un primitivisme dont la difformité et la misère étaient l’expression la plus évidente, tantôt par la nostalgie du paradis perdu, le monde alpin a attiré le regard curieux des folkloristes à la recherche des survivances du passé, des anciennes coutumes, des proverbes et des objets disparus dans nombre de régions d’Europe. Au début du XXe siècle, Karl Felix Wolff (1913) s’inspire de la tradition des frères Grimm et collecte un nombre consistant de légendes ladines, avec l’objectif de redonner une nouvelle vie à un patrimoine voué à l’oubli. Tout comme les botanistes et les zoologues, les folkloristes voient le monde alpin comme un « merveilleux conservatoire » (Hertz 1913 : 177). Un des élèves les plus brillants de Durkheim, Robert Hertz, analyse finement ces « formes élémentaires de la vie religieuse » en étudiant le pèlerinage de Saint Besse, qui rassemble chaque année les populations de Cogne (Vallée d’Aoste) et du Val Soana (Piémont) dans un sanctuaire à la montagne situé à plus de 2000 mètres d’altitude. Après avoir observé et questionné la population locale s’adonnant à ce culte populaire, dont il complète l’analyse par des recherches bibliographiques, il rédige un article exemplaire (Hertz 1913) qui ouvre la voie à l’anthropologie alpine. Entre 1910 et 1920, Eugénie Goldstern mène ses enquêtes dans différentes régions de l’arc alpin à cheval entre la France, la Suisse et l’Italie : ses riches données de terrain lui permettent de réaliser le travail comparatif le plus complet qui ait été réalisé dans la région (Goldstern 2007). Une partie de sa recherche a été effectuée avec la supervision de l’un des fondateurs de l’anthropologie française et l’un des plus grands experts de folklore en Europe, Arnold Van Gennep. Pour ce dernier, le monde alpin constitue un espace de prédilection, mais aussi un terrain d’expérimentation et de validation de certaines hypothèses scientifiques. « Dans tous les pays de montagne, qui ont été bien étudiés du point de vue folklorique […] on constate que les hautes altitudes ne constituent pas un obstacle à la diffusion des coutumes. En Savoie, le report sur cartes des plus typiques d’entre elles montre une répartition nord-sud passant par-dessus les montagnes et les rivières et non pas conditionnée par elles » (Van Gennep 1990 : 30-31). L’objectif de Van Gennep est de comprendre de l’intérieur la « psychologie populaire », à savoir la complexité des faits sociaux et leur variation. Sa méthode consiste à « parler en égal avec un berger » (Van Gennep 1938 : 158), c’est-à-dire non pas tellement parler sa langue au sens propre, mais s’inscrire dans une logique d’échange actif pour accéder aux représentations de son interlocuteur. Quant aux nombreuses langues non officielles présentes sur le territoire, quand elles n’auraient pas une fonction de langue véhiculaire dans le cadre de l’enquête, elles ont été étudiées par les dialectologues, qui complétaient parfois leurs analyses des structures linguistiques avec des informations d’ordre ethnologique : les enseignements de Karl Jaberg et de Jakob Jud (1928) visaient à associer la langue à la civilisation (Wörter und Sachen). Dans le domaine des études sur les walsers, Paul Zinsli nous a légué une synthèse monumentale depuis la Suisse au Voralberg en passant par l’Italie du nord et le Liechtenstein (Zinsli 1976). Comme Van Gennep, Charles Joisten (1955, 1978, 1980) travaille sur les traditions populaires en réalisant la plus grande collecte de récits de croyance pour le monde alpin, entre les Hautes-Alpes et la Savoie. En 1973, il fonde la revue Le monde alpin et rhodanien (qui paraîtra de 1973 à 2006 en tant que revue, avant de devenir la collection thématique du Musée Dauphinois de Grenoble). Si dans l’après-guerre le monde alpin est encore toujours perçu d’une manière valorisante comme le reliquaire d’anciens us et coutumes, il est aussi soumis à la pensée évolutionniste qui le définit comme un monde arriéré parce que marginalisé. C’est dans cette contradiction que se situe l’intérêt que les anthropologues découvrent au sein du monde alpin : il est un observatoire privilégié à la fois du passé de l’humanité dont il ne reste aucune trace ailleurs en Europe et de la transition de la société traditionnelle à la société modernisée. En effet, au début des années 1960, pour de nombreux anthropologues britanniques partant à la découverte des vallées alpines le constat est flagrant : les mœurs ont changé rapidement, suite à la deuxième guerre mondiale. Cette mutation catalyse l’attention des chercheurs, notamment l’analyse des relations entre milieu physique et organisation sociale. Même les pionniers, s’ils s’intéressent aux survivances culturelles, ils se situent dans un axe dynamique : Honigmann (1964, 1970) entend démentir la théorie de la marginalité géographique et du conservatisme des populations alpines. Burns (1961, 1963) se propose d’illustrer la relation existant entre l’évolution socioculturelle d’une communauté et l’environnement. Le monde alpin est alors étudié à travers le prisme de l’écologie culturelle qui a pour but de déterminer dans quelle mesure les caractéristiques du milieu peuvent modeler les modes de subsistance et plus généralement les formes d’organisation sociale. Un changement important a lieu avec l’introduction du concept d’écosystème qui s’impose à partir des années 1960 auprès des anthropologues penchés sur les questions écologiques. C’est ainsi que le village alpin est analysé comme un écosystème, à savoir l’ensemble complexe et organisé, compréhensif d’une communauté biotique et du milieu dans lequel celle-ci évolue. Tel était l’objectif de départ de l’étude de John Friedl sur Kippel (1974), un village situé dans l’une des vallées des Alpes suisses que la communauté scientifique considérait parmi les plus traditionnelles. Mais à son arrivée, il découvre une réalité en pleine transformation qui l’oblige à recentrer son étude sur la mutation sociale et économique. Si le cas de Kippel est représentatif des changements des dernières décennies, les différences peuvent varier considérablement selon les régions ou selon les localités. Les recherches d’Arnold Niederer (1980) vont dans ce sens : il analyse les Alpes sous l’angle des mutations culturelles, par le biais d’une approche interculturelle et comparative de la Suisse à la France, à l’Italie, à l’Autriche et à la Slovénie. John Cole et Eric Wolf (1974) mettent l’accent sur la notion de communauté travaillée par des forces externes, en analysant, les deux communautés voisines de St. Felix et Tret, l’une de culture germanique, l’autre de culture romane, séparées par une frontière ethnique qui fait des deux villages deux modèles culturels distincts. Forts de leur bagage d’expériences accumulées dans les enquêtes de terrain auprès des sociétés primitives, les anthropologues de cette période savent analyser le fonctionnement social de ces petites communautés, mais leurs conclusions trop tributaires de leur terrain d’enquête exotique ne sont pas toujours à l’abri des généralisations. En outre, en abordant les communautés alpines, une réflexion sur l’anthropologie native ou de proximité se développe : le recours à la méthode ethnographique et au comparatisme permettent le rétablissement de la distance nécessaire entre l’observateur et l’observé, ainsi qu’une mise en perspective des phénomènes étudiés. Avec d’autres anthropologues comme Daniela Weinberg (1975) et Adriana Destro (1984), qui tout en étudiant des sociétés en pleine transformation en soulignent les éléments de continuité, nous nous dirigeons vers une remise en cause de la relation entre mutation démographique et mutation structurale de la communauté. Robert Netting (1976) crée le paradigme du village alpin, en menant une étude exemplaire sur le village de Törbel, qui correspondait à l’image canonique de la communauté de montagne qu’avait construite l’anthropologie alpine. Pier Paolo Viazzo (1989) critique ce modèle de la communauté alpine en insistant sur l’existence de cas emblématiques pouvant démontrer que d’autres villages étaient beaucoup moins isolés et marginaux que Törbel. Néanmoins, l’étude de Netting joue un rôle important dans le panorama de l’anthropologie alpine, car elle propose un nouvel éclairage sur les stratégies démographiques locales, considérées jusque-là primitives. En outre, sur le plan méthodologique, Netting désenclave l’anthropologie alpine en associant l’ethnographie aux recherches d’archives et à la démographie historique (Netting 1981) pour compléter les données de terrain. La description des interactions écologiques est devenue plus sophistiquée et la variable démographique devient cruciale, notamment la relation entre la capacité de réguler la consistance numérique d’une communauté et la stabilité des ressources locales. Berthoud (1967, 1972) identifie l’unité de l’aire alpine dans la spécificité du processus historique et des différentes trajectoires du développement culturel, tout en reconnaissant l’importance de l’environnement. C’est-à-dire qu’il démontre que le mode de production « traditionnel » observé dans les Alpes n’est pas déterminé par les contraintes du milieu, mais il dérive de la combinaison d’éléments institutionnels compatibles avec les conditions naturelles (1972 : 119-120). Berthoud et Kilani (1984) analysent l’équilibre entre tradition et modernité dans l’agriculture de montagne dans un contexte fortement influencé par le tourisme d’hiver. Dans une reconstruction et analyse des représentations de la montagne alpine depuis la moitié du XVIIIe siècle à nos jours, Kilani (1984) illustre comment la vision du monde alpin se dégrade entre 1850 et 1950, au fur et à mesure de son insertion dans la société globale dans la dégradation des conditions de vie : il explique ainsi la naissance dans l’imaginaire collectif d’une population primitive arriérée au cœur de l’Europe. Cependant, à une analyse comparative de l’habitat (Weiss 1959 : 274-296 ; Wolf 1962 ; Cole & Wolf 1974), de la dévolution patrimoniale (Bailey 1971 ; Lichtenberger 1975) ou de l’organisation des alpages (Arbos 1922 ; Parain 1969), le monde alpin se caractérise par une surprenante variation, difficilement modélisable. Les situations de contact sont multiples, ce qui est très évident sur le plan linguistique avec des frontières très fragmentées, mais de nombreuses autres frontières culturelles européennes traversent les Alpes, en faisant du monde alpin une entité plurielle, un réseau plus ou moins interconnecté de « upland communities » (Viazzo 1989), où les éléments culturels priment sur les contraintes liées à l’environnement. Aux alentours de 1990, la réflexion des anthropologues autour des traditions alpines, sous l’impulsion de la notion d’invention de la tradition, commence à s’orienter vers l’étude des phénomènes de revitalisation (Boissevain 1992), voire de relance de pratiques ayant subi une transformation ou une rupture dans la transmission. Cette thèse qui a alimenté un riche filon de recherches a pourtant été contestée par Jeremy MacClancy (1997) qui met en avant les éléments de continuité dans le culte de Saint Besse, presqu’un siècle après l’enquête de Robert Hertz. La question de la revitalisation et de la continuité reste donc ouverte et le débat se poursuit dans le cadre des discussions qui accompagnent l’inscription des traditions vivantes dans les listes du patrimoine culturel immatériel de l’humanité.

IntroductionThe European will to modify the natural world emerged through English landscape design during the eighteenth century. Released from the neo-classical aesthetic dichotomy of the beautiful and the ugly, new categories of the picturesque and the sublime gestured towards an affective relationship to nature. Europeans began to see the world as a picture, the elements of which were composed as though part of a theatrical scene. Quite literally, as I shall discuss below, gardens were “composed with ‘pantomimic’ elements – ruins of castles and towers, rough hewn bridges, Chinese pagodas and their like” (McGillivray 134–35) transforming natural vistas into theatrical scenes. Such a transformation was made possible by a habit of spectating that was informed by the theatrical metaphor or theatrum mundi, one version of which emphasised the relationship between spectator and the thing seen. The idea of the natural world as an aesthetic object first developed in poetry and painting and then through English landscape garden style was wrought in three dimensions on the land itself. From representations of place a theatrical transformation occurred so that gardens became a places of representation.“The Genius of the Place in All”The eighteenth century inherited theatrum mundi from the Renaissance, although the genealogy of its key features date back to ancient times. Broadly speaking, theatrum mundi was a metaphorical expression of the world and humanity in two ways: dramaturgically and formally. During the Renaissance the dramaturgical metaphor was a moral emblem concerned with the contingency of human life; as Shakespeare famously wrote, “men and women [were] merely players” whose lives consisted of “seven ages” or “acts” (2.7.139–65). In contrast to the dramaturgical metaphor with its emphasis on role-playing humanity, the formalist version highlighted a relationship between spectator, theatre-space and spectacle. Rooted in Renaissance neo-Platonism, the formalist metaphor configured the world as a spectacle and “Man” its spectator. If the dramaturgical metaphor was inflected with medieval moral pessimism, the formalist metaphor was more optimistic.The neo-Platonist spectator searched in the world for a divine plan or grand design and spectatorship became an epistemological challenge. As a seer and a knower on the world stage, the human being became the one who thought about the world not just as a theatre but also through theatre. This is apparent in the etymology of “theatre” from the Greek theatron, or “seeing place,” but the word also shares a stem with “theory”: theaomai or “to look at.” In a graceful compression of both roots, Martin Heidegger suggests a “theatre” might be any “seeing place” in which any thing being beheld offers itself to careful scrutiny by the beholder (163–65). By the eighteenth century, the ancient idea of a seeing-knowing place coalesced with the new empirical method and aesthetic sensibility: the world was out there, so to speak, to provide pleasure and instruction.Joseph Addison, among others, in the first half of the century reconsidered the utilitarian appeal of the natural world and proposed it as the model for artistic inspiration and appreciation. In “Pleasures of the Imagination,” a series of essays in The Spectator published in 1712, Addison claimed that “there is something more bold and masterly in the rough careless strokes of nature, than in the nice touches and embellishments of art,” and compared to the beauty of an ordered garden, “the sight wanders up and down without confinement” the “wide fields of nature” and is “fed with an infinite variety of images, without any certain stint or number” (67).Yet art still had a role because, Addison argues, although “wild scenes [. . .] are more delightful than any artificial shows” the pleasure of nature increases the more it begins to resemble art; the mind experiences the “double” pleasure of comparing nature’s original beauty with its copy (68). This is why “we take delight in a prospect which is well laid out, and diversified, with fields and meadows, woods and rivers” (68); a carefully designed estate can be both profitable and beautiful and “a man might make a pretty landskip of his own possessions” (69). Although nature should always be one’s guide, nonetheless, with some small “improvements” it was possible to transform an estate into a landscape picture. Nearly twenty years later in response to the neo-Palladian architectural ambitions of Richard Boyle, the third Earl of Burlington, and with a similarly pictorial eye to nature, Alexander Pope advised:To build, to plant, whatever you intend,To rear the Column, or the Arch to bend,To swell the Terras, or to sink the Grot;In all, let Nature never be forgot.But treat the Goddess like a modest fair,Nor over-dress, nor leave her wholly bare;Let not each beauty ev’ry where be spy’d,Where half the skill is decently to hide.He gains all points, who pleasingly confounds,Surprizes, varies, and conceals the Bounds.Consult the Genius of the Place in all;That tells the Waters or to rise, or fall,Or helps th’ ambitious Hill the heav’ns to scale,Or scoops in circling theatres the Vale,Calls in the Country, catches opening glades, Joins willing woods, and varies shades from shades,Now breaks or now directs, th’ intending Lines;Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs. (Epistle IV, ll 47–64) Whereas Addison still gestured towards estate management, Pope explicitly advocated a painterly approach to garden design. His epistle articulated some key principles that he enacted in his own garden at Twickenham and which would inform later garden design. No matter what one added to a landscape, one needed to be guided by nature; one should be moderate in one’s designs and neither plant too much nor too little; one must be aware of the spectator’s journey through the garden and take care to provide variety by creating “surprises” that would be revealed at different points. Finally, one had to find the “spirit” of the place that gave it its distinct character and use this to create the cohesion in diversity that was aspired to in a garden. Nature’s aestheticisation had begun with poetry, developed into painting, and was now enacted on actual natural environments with the emergence of English landscape style. This painterly approach to gardening demanded an imaginative, emotional, and intellectual engagement with place and it stylistically rejected the neo-classical geometry and regularity of the baroque garden (exemplified by Le Nôtre’s gardens at Versailles). Experiencing landscape now took on a third dimension as wealthy landowners and their friends put themselves within the picture frame and into the scene. Although landscape style changed during the century, a number of principles remained more or less consistent: the garden should be modelled on nature but “improved,” any improvements should not be obvious, pictorial composition should be observed, the garden should be concerned with the spectator’s experience and should aim to provoke an imaginative or emotional engagement with it. During the seventeenth century, developments in theatrical technology, particularly the emergence of the proscenium arch theatre with moveable scenery, showed that poetry and painting could be spectacularly combined on the stage. Later in the eighteenth century the artist and stage designer Philippe Jacques de Loutherbourg combined picturesque painting aesthetics with theatrical design in works such as The Wonders of Derbyshire in 1779 (McGillivray 136). It was a short step to shift the onstage scene outside. Theatricality was invoked when pictorial principles were applied three dimensionally; gardens became sites for pastoral genre scenes that ambiguously positioned their visitors both as spectators and actors. Theatrical SceneryGardens and theatres were explicitly connected. Like “theatre,” the word “garden” was sometimes used to describe a collection, in book form, which promised “a whole world of items” which was not always “redeemable” in “straightforward ways” (Hunt, Gardens 54–55). Theatrum mundi could be emblematically expressed in a garden through statues and architectural fabriques which drew spectators into complex chains of associations involving literature, art, and society, as they progressed through it.In the previous century, writes John Dixon Hunt, “the expectation of a fine garden [. . .] was that it work upon its visitor, involving him [sic] often insidiously as a participant in its dramas, which were presented to him as he explored its spaces by a variety of statues, inscriptions and [. . .] hydraulically controlled automata” (Gardens 54). Such devices, which featured heavily in the Italian baroque garden, were by the mid eighteenth century seen by English and French garden theorists to be overly contrived. Nonetheless, as David Marshall argues, “eighteenth-century garden design is famous for its excesses [. . .] the picturesque garden may have aimed to be less theatrical, but it aimed no less to be theater” (38). Such gardens still required their visitors’ participation and were designed to deliver an experience that stimulated the spectators’ imaginations and emotions as they moved through them. Theatrum mundi is implicit in eighteenth-century gardens through a common idea of the world reimagined into four geographical quadrants emblematically represented by fabriques in the garden. The model here is Alexander Pope’s influential poem, “The Temple of Fame” (1715), which depicted the eponymous temple with four different geographic faces: its western face was represented by western classical architecture, its east face by Chinese, Persian, and Assyrian, its north was Gothic and Celtic, and its south, Egyptian. These tropes make their appearance in eighteenth-century landscape gardens. In Désert de Retz, a garden created between 1774 and 1789 by François Racine de Monville, about twenty kilometres west of Paris, one can still see amongst its remaining fabriques: a ruined “gothic” church, a “Tartar” tent (it used to have a Chinese maison, now lost), a pyramid, and the classically inspired Temple of Pan. Similar principles underpin the design of Jardin (now Parc) Monceau that I discuss below. Retz: Figure 1. Tartar tent.Figure 2. Temple of PanStowe Gardens in Buckinghamshire has a similar array of structures (although the classical predominates) including its original Chinese pavillion. It, too, once featured a pyramid designed by the architect and playwright John Vanbrugh, and erected as a memorial to him after his death in 1726. On it was carved a quote from Horace that explicitly referenced the dramaturgical version of theatrum mundi: You have played, eaten enough and drunk enough,Now is time to leave the stage for younger men. (Garnett 19) Stowe’s Elysian Fields, designed by William Kent in the 1730s according to picturesque principles, offered its visitor two narrative choices, to take the Path of Virtue or the Path of Vice, just like a re-imagined morality play. As visitors progressed along their chosen paths they would encounter various fabriques and statues, some carved with inscriptions in either Latin or English, like the Vanbrugh pyramid, that would encourage associations between the ancient world and the contemporary world of the garden’s owner Richard Temple, Lord Cobham, and his circle. Stowe: Figure 3. Chinese Pavillion.Figure 4. Temple of VirtueKent’s background was as a painter and scene designer and he brought a theatrical sensibility to his designs; as Hunt writes, Kent particularly enjoyed designing “recessions into woodland space where ‘wings’ [were] created” (Picturesque 29). Importantly, Kent’s garden drawings reveal his awareness of gardens as “theatrical scenes for human action and interaction, where the premium is upon more personal experiences” and it this spatial dimension that was opened up at Stowe (Picturesque 30).Picturesque garden design emphasised pictorial composition that was similar to stage design and because a garden, like a stage, was a three-dimensional place for human action, it could also function as a set for that action. Unlike a painting, a garden was experiential and time-based and a visitor to it had an experience not unlike, to cautiously use an anachronism, a contemporary promenade performance. The habit of imaginatively wandering through a theatre in book-form, moving associatively from one item to the next, trying to discern the author’s pattern or structure, was one educated Europeans were used to, and a garden provided an embodied dimension to this activity. We can see how this might have been by visiting Parc Monceau in Paris which still contains remnants of the garden designed by Louis Carrogis (known as Carmontelle) for the Duc de Chartres in the 1770s. Carmontelle, like Kent, had a theatrical background and his primary role was as head of entertainments for the Orléans family; as such he was responsible for designing and writing plays for the family’s private theatricals (Hays 449). According to Hunt, Carmontelle intended visitors to Jardin de Monceau to take a specific itinerary through its “quantity of curious things”:Visitors entered by a Chinese gateway, next door to a gothic building that served as a chemical laboratory, and passed through greenhouses and coloured pavilions. Upon pressing a button, a mirrored wall opened into a winter garden painted with trompe-l’œil trees, floored with red sand, filled with exotic plants, and containing at its far end a grotto in which supper parties were held while music was played in the chamber above. Outside was a farm. Then there followed a series of exotic “locations”: a Temple of Mars, a winding river with an island of rocks and a Dutch mill, a dairy, two flower gardens, a Turkish tent poised, minaret-like, above an icehouse, a grove of tombs [. . .], and an Italian vineyard with a classical Bacchus at its center, regularly laid out to contrast with an irregular wood that succeeded it. The final stretches of the itinerary included a Naumachia or Roman water-theatre [. . .], more Turkish and Chinese effects, a ruined castle, yet another water-mill, and an island on which sheep grazed. (Picturesque 121) Monceau: Figure 5. Naumachia.Figure 6. PyramidIn its presentation of a multitude of different times and different places one can trace a line of descent from Jardin de Monceau to the great nineteenth-century World Expos and on to Disneyland. This lineage is not as trite as it seems once we realise that Carmontelle himself intended the garden to represent “all times and all places” and Pope’s four quadrants of the world were represented by fabriques at Monceau (Picturesque 121). As Jardin de Monceau reveals, gardens were also sites for smaller performative interventions such as the popular fêtes champêtres, garden parties in which the participants ate, drank, danced, played music, and acted in comedies. Role playing and masquerade were an important part of the fêtes as we see, for example, in Jean-Antoine Watteau’s Fêtes Vénitiennes (1718–19) where a “Moorishly” attired man addresses (or is dancing with) a young woman before an audience of young men and women, lolling around a fabrique (Watteau). Scenic design in the theatre inspired garden designs and gardens “featured prominently as dramatic locations in intermezzi, operas, and plays”, an exchange that encouraged visitors to gardens to see themselves as performers as much as spectators (Hunt, Gardens 64). A garden, particularly within the liminal aegis of a fête was a site for deceptions, tricks, ruses and revelations, assignations and seductions, all activities which were inherently theatrical; in such a garden visitors could find themselves acting in or watching a comedy or drama of their own devising. Marie-Antoinette built English gardens and a rural “hamlet” at Versailles. She and her intimate circle would retire to rustic cottages, which belied the opulence of their interiors, and dressed in white muslin dresses and straw hats, would play at being dairy maids, milking cows (pre-cleaned by the servants) into fine porcelain buckets (Martin 3). Just as the queen acted in pastoral operas in her theatre in the grounds of the Petit Trianon, her hamlet provided an opportunity for her to “live” a pastoral fantasy. Similarly, François Racine de Monville, who commissioned Désert de Retz, was a talented harpist and flautist and his Temple of Pan was, appropriately, a music room.Versailles: Figure 7. Hamlet ConclusionRichard Steele, Addison’s friend and co-founder of The Spectator, casually invoked theatrum mundi when he wrote in 1720: “the World and the Stage [. . .] have been ten thousand times observed to be the Pictures of one another” (51). Steele’s reiteration of a Renaissance commonplace revealed a different emphasis, an emphasis on the metaphor’s spatial and spectacular elements. Although Steele reasserts the idea that the world and stage resemble each other, he does so through a third level of abstraction: it is as pictures that they have an affinity. World and stage are both positioned for the observer within complementary picture frames and it is as pictures that he or she is invited to make sense of them. The formalist version of theatrum mundi invokes a spectator beholding the world for his (usually!) pleasure and in the process nature itself is transformed. No longer were natural landscapes wildernesses to be tamed and economically exploited, but could become gardens rendered into scenes for their aristocratic owners’ pleasure. Désert de Retz, as its name suggests, was an artfully composed wilderness, a version of the natural world sculpted into scenery. Theatrum mundi, through the aesthetic category of the picturesque, emerged in English landscape style and effected a theatricalised transformation of nature that was enacted in the aristocratic gardens of Europe.ReferencesAddison, Joseph. The Spectator. No. 414 (25 June 1712): 67–70. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.Garnett, Oliver. Stowe. Buckinghamshire. The National Trust, 2011.Hays, David. “Carmontelle's Design for the Jardin de Monceau: A Freemasonic Garden in Late-Eighteenth-Century France.” Eighteenth-Century Studies 32.4 (1999): 447–62.Heidegger, Martin. The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays. Trans. William Lovitt. New York: Harper and Row, 1977.Hunt, John Dixon. Gardens and the Picturesque: Studies in the History of Landscape Architecture. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1992.———. The Picturesque Garden in Europe. London: Thames and Hudson, 2002.Marshall, David. The Frame of Art. Fictions of Aesthetic Experience, 1750–1815. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2005.Martin, Meredith S. Dairy Queens: The Politics of Pastoral Architecture from Catherine de' Medici to Marie-Antoinette. Harvard: Harvard UP, 2011.McGillivray, Glen. "The Picturesque World Stage." Performance Research 13.4 (2008): 127–39.Pope, Alexander. “Epistle IV. To Richard Boyle, Earl of Burlington.” Epistles to Several Persons. London, 1744. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.———. The Temple of Fame: A Vision. By Mr. Pope. 2nd ed. London, 1715. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Shakespeare, William. As You Like It. Ed. Agnes Latham. London: Routledge, 1991.Steele, Richard. The Theatre. No. 7 (23 January 1720).

Background information Sandscript was programmed with the web application « Tchat-scene », created by Carol-Ann Braun and the computer services company Timsoft (). It organizes a data-base of raw material into compositions and sequences allowing to build larger episodes. Multimedia resources are thus attributed to frames surrounding the chat space or to the chat space itself, thus “augmented” to include pre-written texts and graphics. Sandscript works best on a PC, with Internet Explorer. On Mac, use 0S9 and Internet Explorer. You will have to download a chat application for the site to function. Coded conversation General opinion would have it that chat space is a conversational space, facilitating rather than complicating communication. Writing in a chat space is very much influenced by the current ideological stance which sees collaborative spaces as places to make friends, speak freely, flip from one “channel” to another, link with a simple click into related themes, etc. Moreover, chat users tend to think of the chat screen in terms of a white page, an essentially neutral environment. A quick analysis of chat practices reveals a different scenario: chat spaces are highly coded typographical writing spaces, quick to exclude those who don’t abide by the technical and procedural constraints associated with computer reading/writing tools (Despret-Lonné, Gentès). Chatters seek to belong to a “community;” conversely, every chat has “codes” which restrict its membership to the like-minded. The patterns of exchange characteristic of chats are phatic (Jakobson), and their primary purpose is to get and maintain a social link. It is no surprise then that chatters should emphasize two skills: one related to rhetorical ingenuity, the other to dexterity and speed of writing. To belong, one first has to grasp the banter, then manage very quickly the rules and rituals of the group, then answer by mastering the intricacies of the keyboard and its shortcuts. Speed is compulsory if your answers are to follow the communal chat; as a result, sentences tend to be very short, truncated bits, dispatched in a continuous flow. Sandscript attempts to play with the limits of this often hermetic writing process (and the underlying questions of affinity, participation and reciprocity). It opens up a social space to an artistic and fictional space, each with rules of its own. Hyper-linked dialogue Sandscript is not just about people chatting, it is also about influencing the course of these exchanges. The site weaves pre-scripted poetic content into the spontaneous, real-time dialogue of chatters. Smileys and the plethora of abbreviations, punctuations and icons characteristic of chat rooms are mixed in with typographical games that develop the idea of text as image and text as sound — using Morse Code to make text resonate, CB code to evoke its spoken use, and graphic elements within the chat space itself to oppose keyboard text and handwritten graffiti. The web site encourages chatters to broaden the scope of their “net-speak,” and take a playfully conscious stance towards their own familiar practices. Actually, most of the writing in this web-site is buried in the database. Two hundred or so “key words” — expressions typical of phatic exchanges, in addition to other words linked to the idea of sandstorms and archeology — lie dormant, inactive and unseen until a chatter inadvertently types one in. These keywords bridge the gap between spontaneous exchange and multimedia content: if someone types in “hi,” an image of a face, half buried in sand, pops up in a floating window and welcomes you, silently; if someone types in the word “wind,” a typewritten “wind” floats out into the graphic environment and oscillates between the left and right edges of the frames; typing the word “no” “magically” triggers the intervention of an anarchist who says something provocative*. *Sandscript works like a game of ping-pong among chatters who are intermittently surprised by a comment “out of nowhere.” The chat space, augmented by a database, forms an ever-evolving, fluid “back-bone” around which artistic content is articulated. Present in the form of programs who participate in their stead, artists share the spot light, adding another level of mediation to a collective writing process. Individual and collective identities Not only does Sandscript accentuate the multimedia aspects of typed chat dialogues, it also seeks to give a “ shape” to the community of assembled chatters. This shape is musical: along with typing in a nickname of her choice, each chatter is attributed a sound. Like crickets in a field, each sound adds to the next to create a collective presence, modified with every new arrival and departure. For example, if your nick is “yoyo-mama,” your presence will be associated with a low, electronic purr. When “pillX” shows up, his nick will be associated with a sharp violin chord. When “mojo” pitches in, she adds her sound profile to the lot, and the overall environment changes again. Chatters can’t hear the clatter of each other’s keyboards, but they hear the different rhythms of their musical identities. The repeated pings of people present in the same “scape” reinforce the idea of community in a world where everything typed is swept away by the next bit of text, soon to be pushed off-screen in turn. The nature of this orchestrated collective presence is determined by the artists and their programs, not by the chatters themselves, whose freedom is limited to switching from one nick to another to test the various sounds associated with each. Here, identity is both given and built, both individual and collective, both a matter of choice and pre-defined rules. (Goffman) Real or fictitious characters The authors introduce simulated bits of dialogue within the flow of written conversation. Some of these fake dialogues simply echo whatever keywords chatters might type. Others, however, point else where, suggesting a hyper-link to a more elaborate fictionalized drama among “characters.” Sandscript also hides a plot. Once chatters realize that there are strange goings on in their midst, they become caught in the shifting sands of this web site’s inherent duality. They can completely lose their footing: not only do they have to position themselves in relation to other, real people (however disguised…) but they also have to find their bearings in the midst of a database of fake interlocutors. Not only are they expected to “write” in order to belong, they are also expected to unearth content in order to be “in the know.” A hybridized writing is required to maintain this ambivalence in place. Sandscript’s fake dialogue straddles two worlds: it melds in with the real-time small talk of chatters all while pointing to elements in a fictional narrative. For example, “mojo” will say: “silting up here ”, and “zano” will answer “10-4, what now? ” These two characters could be banal chatters, inviting others to join in their sarcastic banter… But they are also specifically referring to incidents in their fictional world. The “chat code” not only addresses its audience, it implies that something else is going on that merits a “click” or a question. “Clicking” at this juncture means more than just quickly responding to what another chatter might have typed. It implies stopping the banter and delving into the details of a character developed at greater length elsewhere. Indeed, in Sandscript, each fictional dialogue is linked to a blog that reinforces each character’s personality traits and provides insights into the web-site’s wind-swept, self-erasing world. Interestingly enough, Sandscript then reverses this movement towards a closed fictional space by having each character not only write about himself, but relate her immediate preoccupations to the larger world. Each blog entry mentions a character’s favorite URL at that particular moment. One character might evoke a web site about romantic poetry, another one on anarchist political theory, a third a web-site on Morse code, etc… Chatters click on the URL and open up an entirely new web-site, directly related to the questions being discussed in Sandscript. Thus, each character represents himself as well as a point of view on the larger world of the web. Fiction opens onto a “real” slice of cyber-space and the work of other authors and programmers. Sandscript mixes up different types of on-line identities, emphasizing that representations of people on the web are neither “true” nor “false.” They are simply artificial and staged, simple facets of identities which shift in style and rhetoric depending on the platform available to them. Again, identity is both closed by our social integration and opened to singular “play.” Conclusion: looking at and looking through One could argue that since the futurists staged their “electrical theater” in the streets of Turin close to a hundred years ago, artists have worked on the blurry edge between recognizable formal structures and their dissolution into life itself. And after a century of avant-gardes, self-referential appropriations of mass media are also second nature. Juxtaposing one “use” along another reveals how different frames of reference include or exclude each other in unexpected ways. For the past twenty years much artwork has which fallen in between genres, and most recently in the realm of what Nicolas Bourriaud calls “relational aesthetics.” Such work is designed not only to draw attention to itself but also to the spectator’s relation to it and the broader artistic context which infuses the work with additional meaning. By having dialogue serve as a hyper-link to multimedia content, Sandscript, however, does more. Even though some changes in the web site are pre-programmed to occur automatically, not much happens without the chatters, who occupy center-stage and trigger the appearance of a latent content. Chatters are the driving force, they are the ones who make text appear and flow off-screen, who explore links, who exchange information, and who decide what pops up and doesn’t. Here, the art “object” reveals its different facets around a multi-layered, on-going conversation, subjected to the “flux” of an un-formulated present. Secondly, Sandscript demands that we constantly vary our posture towards the work: getting involved in conversation to look through the device, all while taking some distance to consider the object and look at its content and artistic “mediations.” (Bolster and Grusin, Manovitch). This tension is at the heart of Sandscript, which insists on being both a communication device “transparent” to its user, and an artistic device that imposes an opaque and reflexive quality. The former is supposed to disappear behind its task; the latter attracts the viewer’s attention over and over again, ever open to new interpretations. This approach is not without pitfalls. One Sandscript chatter wondered if as the authors of the web-site were not disappointed when conversation took the upper hand, and chatters ignored the graphics. On the other hand, the web site’s explicit status as a chat space was quickly compromised when users stopped being interested in each other and turned to explore the different layers hidden within the interface. In the end, Sandscript chatters are not bound to any single one of these modes. They can experience one and then other, and —why not —both simultaneously. This hybrid posture brings to mind Herman’s metaphor of a door that cannot be closed entirely: “la porte joue” —the door “gives.” It is not perfectly fitted and closed — there is room for “play.” Such openness requires that the artistic device provide two seemingly contradictory ways of relating to it: a desire to communicate seamlessly all while being fascinated by every seam in the representational space projected on-screen. Sandscript is supposed to “run” and “not run” at the same time; it exemplifies the technico-semiotic logic of speed and resists it full stop. Here, openness is not ontological; it is experiential, shifting. About the Authors Carol-Ann Braun is multimedia artist, at the Ecole Nationale Superieure des Telecomunications, Paris, France. EmaiL: carol-ann.braun@wanadoo.fr Annie Gentes is media theorist and professor at the Ecole Nationale Superieure des Telecomunications, Paris, France. Email: Annie.Gentes@enst.fr Works Cited Adamowicz, Elza. Surrealist Collage in Text and Image, Dissecting the Exquisite Corpse. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998. Augé, Marc. Non-lieux, Introduction à une Anthropologie de la Surmodernité. Paris: Seuil, 1992. Bolter, Jay David and Richard Grusin. Remediation, Understanding New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2000. Bourriaud, Nicholas. Esthétique Relationnelle. Paris: Les Presses du Réel, 1998. Despret-Lonnet, Marie and Annie Gentes, Lire, Ecrire, Réécrire. Paris: Bibliothèque Centre Pompidou, 2003. Goffman, Irving. Interaction Ritual. New York: Pantheon, 1967. Habermas, Jürgen. Théorie de l’Agir Communicationnel, Vol.1. Paris: Fayard, 1987. Herman, Jacques. “Jeux et Rationalité.” Encyclopedia Universalis, 1997. Jakobson, Roman.“Linguistics and Poetics: Closing statements,” in Thomas Sebeok. Style in Language. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1960. Latzko-Toth, Guillaume. “L’Internet Relay Chat, Un Cas Exemplaire de Dispositif Socio-technique,” in Composite. Montreal: Université du Québec à Montréal, 2001. Lyotard, Jean-François. La Condition Post-Moderne. Paris: les Editions de Minuit, 1979. Manovitch, Lev. The Language of New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2001. Michaud, Yves. L’Art à l’Etat Gazeux. Essai sur le Triomphe de l’Esthétique, Les essais. Paris: Stock, 2003. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Braun, Carol-Ann & Gentes, Annie. "Dialogue: a hyper-link to multimedia content." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0406/05_Braun-Gentes.php>. APA Style Braun, C. & Gentes, A. (2004, Jul1). Dialogue: a hyper-link to multimedia content.. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 7, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0406/05_Braun-Gentes.php>

Introduction Cookbooks are an exceptional written record of what is largely an oral tradition. They have been described as “magician’s hats” due to their ability to reveal much more than they seem to contain (Wheaton, “Finding”). The first book printed in Germany was the Guttenberg Bible in 1456 but, by 1490, printing was introduced into almost every European country (Tierney). The spread of literacy between 1500 and 1800, and the rise in silent reading, helped to create a new private sphere into which the individual could retreat, seeking refuge from the community (Chartier). This new technology had its effects in the world of cookery as in so many spheres of culture (Mennell, All Manners). Trubek notes that cookbooks are the texts most often used by culinary historians, since they usually contain all the requisite materials for analysing a cuisine: ingredients, method, technique, and presentation. Printed cookbooks, beginning in the early modern period, provide culinary historians with sources of evidence of the culinary past. Historians have argued that social differences can be expressed by the way and type of food we consume. Cookbooks are now widely accepted as valid socio-cultural and historic documents (Folch, Sherman), and indeed the link between literacy levels and the protestant tradition has been expressed through the study of Danish cookbooks (Gold). From Apicius, Taillevent, La Varenne, and Menon to Bradley, Smith, Raffald, Acton, and Beeton, how can both manuscript and printed cookbooks be analysed as historic documents? What is the difference between a manuscript and a printed cookbook? Barbara Ketchum Wheaton, who has been studying cookbooks for over half a century and is honorary curator of the culinary collection in Harvard’s Schlesinger Library, has developed a methodology to read historic cookbooks using a structured approach. For a number of years she has been giving seminars to scholars from multidisciplinary fields on how to read historic cookbooks. This paper draws on the author’s experiences attending Wheaton’s seminar in Harvard, and on supervising the use of this methodology at both Masters and Doctoral level (Cashman; Mac Con Iomaire, and Cashman). Manuscripts versus Printed Cookbooks A fundamental difference exists between manuscript and printed cookbooks in their relationship with the public and private domain. Manuscript cookbooks are by their very essence intimate, relatively unedited and written with an eye to private circulation. Culinary manuscripts follow the diurnal and annual tasks of the household. They contain recipes for cures and restoratives, recipes for cleansing products for the house and the body, as well as the expected recipes for cooking and preserving all manners of food. Whether manuscript or printed cookbook, the recipes contained within often act as a reminder of how laborious the production of food could be in the pre-industrialised world (White). Printed cookbooks draw oxygen from the very fact of being public. They assume a “literate population with sufficient discretionary income to invest in texts that commodify knowledge” (Folch). This process of commoditisation brings knowledge from the private to the public sphere. There exists a subset of cookbooks that straddle this divide, for example, Mrs. Rundell’s A New System of Domestic Cookery (1806), which brought to the public domain her distillation of a lifetime of domestic experience. Originally intended for her daughters alone, Rundell’s book was reprinted regularly during the nineteenth century with the last edition printed in 1893, when Mrs. Beeton had been enormously popular for over thirty years (Mac Con Iomaire, and Cashman). Barbara Ketchum Wheaton’s Structured Approach Cookbooks can be rewarding, surprising and illuminating when read carefully with due effort in understanding them as cultural artefacts. However, Wheaton notes that: “One may read a single old cookbook and find it immensely entertaining. One may read two and begin to find intriguing similarities and differences. When the third cookbook is read, one’s mind begins to blur, and one begins to sense the need for some sort of method in approaching these documents” (“Finding”). Following decades of studying cookbooks from both sides of the Atlantic and writing a seminal text on the French at table from 1300-1789 (Wheaton, Savouring the Past), this combined experience negotiating cookbooks as historical documents was codified, and a structured approach gradually articulated and shared within a week long seminar format. In studying any cookbook, regardless of era or country of origin, the text is broken down into five different groupings, to wit: ingredients; equipment or facilities; the meal; the book as a whole; and, finally, the worldview. A particular strength of Wheaton’s seminars is the multidisciplinary nature of the approaches of students who attend, which throws the study of cookbooks open to wide ranging techniques. Students with a purely scientific training unearth interesting patterns by developing databases of the frequency of ingredients or techniques, and cross referencing them with other books from similar or different timelines or geographical regions. Patterns are displayed in graphs or charts. Linguists offer their own unique lens to study cookbooks, whereas anthropologists and historians ask what these objects can tell us about how our ancestors lived and drew meaning from life. This process is continuously refined, and each grouping is discussed below. Ingredients The geographic origins of the ingredients are of interest, as is the seasonality and the cost of the foodstuffs within the scope of each cookbook, as well as the sensory quality both separately and combined within different recipes. In the medieval period, the use of spices and large joints of butchers meat and game were symbols of wealth and status. However, when the discovery of sea routes to the New World and to the Far East made spices more available and affordable to the middle classes, the upper classes spurned them. Evidence from culinary manuscripts in Georgian Ireland, for example, suggests that galangal was more easily available in Dublin during the eighteenth century than in the mid-twentieth century. A new aesthetic, articulated by La Varenne in his Le Cuisinier Francois (1651), heralded that food should taste of itself, and so exotic ingredients such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger were replaced by the local bouquet garni, and stocks and sauces became the foundations of French haute cuisine (Mac Con Iomaire). Some combinations of flavours and ingredients were based on humoral physiology, a long held belief system based on the writings of Hippocrates and Galen, now discredited by modern scientific understanding. The four humors are blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. It was believed that each of these humors would wax and wane in the body, depending on diet and activity. Galen (131-201 AD) believed that warm food produced yellow bile and that cold food produced phlegm. It is difficult to fathom some combinations of ingredients or the manner of service without comprehending the contemporary context within they were consumeSome ingredients found in Roman cookbooks, such as “garum” or “silphium” are no longer available. It is suggested that the nearest substitute for garum also known as “liquamen”—a fermented fish sauce—would be Naam Plaa, or Thai fish sauce (Grainger). Ingredients such as tea and white bread, moved from the prerogative of the wealthy over time to become the staple of the urban poor. These ingredients, therefore, symbolise radically differing contexts during the seventeenth century than in the early twentieth century. Indeed, there are other ingredients such as hominy (dried maize kernel treated with alkali) or grahams (crackers made from graham flour) found in American cookbooks that require translation to the unacquainted non-American reader. There has been a growing number of food encyclopaedias published in recent years that assist scholars in identifying such commodities (Smith, Katz, Davidson). The Cook’s Workplace, Techniques, and Equipment It is important to be aware of the type of kitchen equipment used, the management of heat and cold within the kitchen, and also the gradual spread of the industrial revolution into the domestic sphere. Visits to historic castles such as Hampton Court Palace where nowadays archaeologists re-enact life below stairs in Tudor times give a glimpse as to how difficult and labour intensive food production was. Meat was spit-roasted in front of huge fires by spit boys. Forcemeats and purees were manually pulped using mortar and pestles. Various technological developments including spit-dogs, and mechanised pulleys, replaced the spit boys, the most up to date being the mechanised rotisserie. The technological advancements of two hundred years can be seen in the Royal Pavilion in Brighton where Marie-Antoinin Carême worked for the Prince Regent in 1816 (Brighton Pavilion), but despite the gleaming copper pans and high ceilings for ventilation, the work was still back breaking. Carême died aged forty-nine, “burnt out by the flame of his genius and the fumes of his ovens” (Ackerman 90). Mennell points out that his fame outlived him, resting on his books: Le Pâtissier Royal Parisien (1815); Le Pâtissier Pittoresque (1815); Le Maître d’Hôtel Français (1822); Le Cuisinier Parisien (1828); and, finally, L’Art de la Cuisine Française au Dix-Neuvième Siècle (1833–5), which was finished posthumously by his student Pluméry (All Manners). Mennell suggests that these books embody the first paradigm of professional French cuisine (in Kuhn’s terminology), pointing out that “no previous work had so comprehensively codified the field nor established its dominance as a point of reference for the whole profession in the way that Carême did” (All Manners 149). The most dramatic technological changes came after the industrial revolution. Although there were built up ovens available in bakeries and in large Norman households, the period of general acceptance of new cooking equipment that enclosed fire (such as the Aga stove) is from c.1860 to 1910, with gas ovens following in c.1910 to the 1920s) and Electricity from c.1930. New food processing techniques dates are as follows: canning (1860s), cooling and freezing (1880s), freeze drying (1950s), and motorised delivery vans with cooking (1920s–1950s) (den Hartog). It must also be noted that the supply of fresh food, and fish particularly, radically improved following the birth, and expansion of, the railways. To understand the context of the cookbook, one needs to be aware of the limits of the technology available to the users of those cookbooks. For many lower to middle class families during the twentieth century, the first cookbook they would possess came with their gas or electrical oven. Meals One can follow cooked dishes from the kitchen to the eating place, observing food presentation, carving, sequencing, and serving of the meal and table etiquette. Meal times and structure changed over time. During the Middle Ages, people usually ate two meals a day: a substantial dinner around noon and a light supper in the evening (Adamson). Some of the most important factors to consider are the manner in which meals were served: either à la française or à la russe. One of the main changes that occurred during the nineteenth century was the slow but gradual transfer from service à la française to service à la russe. From medieval times to the middle of the nineteenth century the structure of a formal meal was not by “courses”—as the term is now understood—but by “services”. Each service could comprise of a choice of dishes—both sweet and savoury—from which each guest could select what appealed to him or her most (Davidson). The philosophy behind this form of service was the forementioned humoral physiology— where each diner chose food based on the four humours of blood, yellow bile, black bile, or phlegm. Also known as le grand couvert, the à la française method made it impossible for the diners to eat anything that was beyond arm’s length (Blake, and Crewe). Smooth service, however, was the key to an effective à la russe dinner since servants controlled the flow of food (Eatwell). The taste and temperature of food took centre stage with the à la russe dinner as each course came in sequence. Many historic cookbooks offer table plans illustrating the suggested arrangement of dishes on a table for the à la française style of service. Many of these dishes might be re-used in later meals, and some dishes such as hashes and rissoles often utilised left over components of previous meals. There is a whole genre of cookbooks informing the middle class cooks how to be frugal and also how to emulate haute cuisine using cheaper or ersatz ingredients. The number dining and the manner in which they dined also changed dramatically over time. From medieval to Tudor times, there might be hundreds dining in large banqueting halls. By the Elizabethan age, a small intimate room where master and family dined alone replaced the old dining hall where master, servants, guests, and travellers had previously dined together (Spencer). Dining tables remained portable until the 1780s when tables with removable leaves were devised. By this time, the bread trencher had been replaced by one made of wood, or plate of pewter or precious metal in wealthier houses. Hosts began providing knives and spoons for their guests by the seventeenth century, with forks also appearing but not fully accepted until the eighteenth century (Mason). These silver utensils were usually marked with the owner’s initials to prevent their theft (Flandrin). Cookbooks as Objects and the World of Publishing A thorough examination of the manuscript or printed cookbook can reveal their physical qualities, including indications of post-publication history, the recipes and other matter in them, as well as the language, organization, and other individual qualities. What can the quality of the paper tell us about the book? Is there a frontispiece? Is the book dedicated to an employer or a patron? Does the author note previous employment history in the introduction? In his Court Cookery, Robert Smith, for example, not only mentions a number of his previous employers, but also outlines that he was eight years working with Patrick Lamb in the Court of King William, before revealing that several dishes published in Lamb’s Royal Cookery (1710) “were never made or practis’d (sic) by him and others are extreme defective and imperfect and made up of dishes unknown to him; and several of them more calculated at the purses than the Gôut of the guests”. Both Lamb and Smith worked for the English monarchy, nobility, and gentry, but produced French cuisine. Not all Britons were enamoured with France, however, with, for example Hannah Glasse asserting “if gentlemen will have French cooks, they must pay for French tricks” (4), and “So much is the blind folly of this age, that they would rather be imposed on by a French Booby, than give encouragement to an good English cook” (ctd. in Trubek 60). Spencer contextualises Glasse’s culinary Francophobia, explaining that whilst she was writing the book, the Jacobite army were only a few days march from London, threatening to cut short the Hanoverian lineage. However, Lehmann points out that whilst Glasse was overtly hostile to French cuisine, she simultaneously plagiarised its receipts. Based on this trickling down of French influences, Mennell argues that “there is really no such thing as a pure-bred English cookery book” (All Manners 98), but that within the assimilation and simplification, a recognisable English style was discernable. Mennell also asserts that Glasse and her fellow women writers had an enormous role in the social history of cooking despite their lack of technical originality (“Plagiarism”). It is also important to consider the place of cookbooks within the history of publishing. Albala provides an overview of the immense outpouring of dietary literature from the printing presses from the 1470s. He divides the Renaissance into three periods: Period I Courtly Dietaries (1470–1530)—targeted at the courtiers with advice to those attending banquets with many courses and lots of wine; Period II The Galenic Revival (1530–1570)—with a deeper appreciation, and sometimes adulation, of Galen, and when scholarship took centre stage over practical use. Finally Period III The Breakdown of Orthodoxy (1570–1650)—when, due to the ambiguities and disagreements within and between authoritative texts, authors were freer to pick the ideas that best suited their own. Nutrition guides were consistent bestsellers, and ranged from small handbooks written in the vernacular for lay audiences, to massive Latin tomes intended for practicing physicians. Albala adds that “anyone with an interest in food appears to have felt qualified to pen his own nutritional guide” (1). Would we have heard about Mrs. Beeton if her husband had not been a publisher? How could a twenty-five year old amass such a wealth of experience in household management? What role has plagiarism played in the history of cookbooks? It is interesting to note that a well worn copy of her book (Beeton) was found in the studio of Francis Bacon and it is suggested that he drew inspiration for a number of his paintings from the colour plates of animal carcasses and butcher’s meat (Dawson). Analysing the post-publication usage of cookbooks is valuable to see the most popular recipes, the annotations left by the owner(s) or user(s), and also if any letters, handwritten recipes, or newspaper clippings are stored within the leaves of the cookbook. The Reader, the Cook, the Eater The physical and inner lives and needs and skills of the individuals who used cookbooks and who ate their meals merit consideration. Books by their nature imply literacy. Who is the book’s audience? Is it the cook or is it the lady of the house who will dictate instructions to the cook? Numeracy and measurement is also important. Where clocks or pocket watches were not widely available, authors such as seventeenth century recipe writer Sir Kenelm Digby would time his cooking by the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Literacy amongst protestant women to enable them to read the Bible, also enabled them to read cookbooks (Gold). How did the reader or eater’s religion affect the food practices? Were there fast days? Were there substitute foods for fast days? What about special occasions? Do historic cookbooks only tell us about the food of the middle and upper classes? It is widely accepted today that certain cookbook authors appeal to confident cooks, while others appeal to competent cooks, and others still to more cautious cooks (Bilton). This has always been the case, as has the differentiation between the cookbook aimed at the professional cook rather than the amateur. Historically, male cookbook authors such as Patrick Lamb (1650–1709) and Robert Smith targeted the professional cook market and the nobility and gentry, whereas female authors such as Eliza Acton (1799–1859) and Isabella Beeton (1836–1865) often targeted the middle class market that aspired to emulate their superiors’ fashions in food and dining. How about Tavern or Restaurant cooks? When did they start to put pen to paper, and did what they wrote reflect the food they produced in public eateries? Conclusions This paper has offered an overview of Barbara Ketchum Wheaton’s methodology for reading historic cookbooks using a structured approach. It has highlighted some of the questions scholars and researchers might ask when faced with an old cookbook, regardless of era or geographical location. By systematically examining the book under the headings of ingredients; the cook’s workplace, techniques and equipment; the meals; cookbooks as objects and the world of publishing; and reader, cook and eater, the scholar can perform magic and extract much more from the cookbook than seems to be there on first appearance. References Ackerman, Roy. The Chef's Apprentice. London: Headline, 1988. Adamson, Melitta Weiss. Food in Medieval Times. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood P, 2004. Albala, Ken. Eating Right in the Renaissance. Ed. Darra Goldstein. Berkeley: U of California P, 2002. Beeton, Isabella. Beeton's Book of Household Management. London: S. Beeton, 1861. Bilton, Samantha. “The Influence of Cookbooks on Domestic Cooks, 1900-2010.” Petit Propos Culinaires 94 (2011): 30–7. Blake, Anthony, and Quentin Crewe. Great Chefs of France. London: Mitchell Beazley/ Artists House, 1978. Brighton Pavilion. 12 Jun. 2013 ‹http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/interactive/2011/sep/09/brighton-pavilion-360-interactive-panoramic›. Cashman, Dorothy. “An Exploratory Study of Irish Cookbooks.” Unpublished Master's Thesis. M.Sc. Dublin: Dublin Institute of Technology, 2009. Chartier, Roger. “The Practical Impact of Writing.” Trans. Arthur Goldhammer. A History of Private Lives: Volume III: Passions of the Renaissance. Ed. Roger Chartier. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Belknap P of Harvard U, 1989. 111-59. Davidson, Alan. The Oxford Companion to Food. New York: Oxford U P, 1999. Dawson, Barbara. “Francis Bacon and the Art of Food.” The Irish Times 6 April 2013. den Hartog, Adel P. “Technological Innovations and Eating out as a Mass Phenomenon in Europe: A Preamble.” Eating out in Europe: Picnics, Gourmet Dining and Snacks since the Late Eighteenth Century. Eds. Mark Jacobs and Peter Scholliers. Oxford: Berg, 2003. 263–80. Eatwell, Ann. “Á La Française to À La Russe, 1680-1930.” Elegant Eating: Four Hundred Years of Dining in Style. Eds. Philippa Glanville and Hilary Young. London: V&A, 2002. 48–52. Flandrin, Jean-Louis. “Distinction through Taste.” Trans. Arthur Goldhammer. A History of Private Lives: Volume III : Passions of the Renaissance. Ed. Roger Chartier. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Belknap P of Harvard U, 1989. 265–307. Folch, Christine. “Fine Dining: Race in Pre-revolution Cuban Cookbooks.” Latin American Research Review 43.2 (2008): 205–23. Glasse, Hannah. The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy; Which Far Exceeds Anything of the Kind Ever Published. 4th Ed. London: The Author, 1745. Gold, Carol. Danish Cookbooks: Domesticity and National Identity, 1616-1901. Seattle: U of Washington P, 2007. Grainger, Sally. Cooking Apicius: Roman Recipes for Today. Totnes, Devon: Prospect, 2006. Hampton Court Palace. “The Tudor Kitchens.” 12 Jun 2013 ‹http://www.hrp.org.uk/HamptonCourtPalace/stories/thetudorkitchens› Katz, Solomon H. Ed. Encyclopedia of Food and Culture (3 Vols). New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 2003. Kuhn, T. S. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1962. Lamb, Patrick. Royal Cookery:Or. The Complete Court-Cook. London: Abel Roper, 1710. Lehmann, Gilly. “English Cookery Books in the 18th Century.” The Oxford Companion to Food. Ed. Alan Davidson. Oxford: Oxford U P, 1999. 277–9. Mac Con Iomaire, Máirtín. “The Changing Geography and Fortunes of Dublin’s Haute Cuisine Restaurants 1958–2008.” Food, Culture & Society 14.4 (2011): 525–45. Mac Con Iomaire, Máirtín, and Dorothy Cashman. “Irish Culinary Manuscripts and Printed Cookbooks: A Discussion.” Petit Propos Culinaires 94 (2011): 81–101. Mason, Laura. Food Culture in Great Britain. Ed. Ken Albala. Westport CT.: Greenwood P, 2004. Mennell, Stephen. All Manners of Food. 2nd ed. Chicago: U of Illinois P, 1996. ---. “Plagiarism and Originality: Diffusionism in the Study of the History of Cookery.” Petits Propos Culinaires 68 (2001): 29–38. Sherman, Sandra. “‘The Whole Art and Mystery of Cooking’: What Cookbooks Taught Readers in the Eighteenth Century.” Eighteenth Century Life 28.1 (2004): 115–35. Smith, Andrew F. Ed. The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink. New York: Oxford U P, 2007. Spencer, Colin. British Food: An Extraordinary Thousand Years of History. London: Grub Street, 2004. Tierney, Mark. Europe and the World 1300-1763. Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1970. Trubek, Amy B. Haute Cuisine: How the French Invented the Culinary Profession. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 2000. Wheaton, Barbara. “Finding Real Life in Cookbooks: The Adventures of a Culinary Historian”. 2006. Humanities Research Group Working Paper. 9 Sep. 2009 ‹http://www.phaenex.uwindsor.ca/ojs/leddy/index.php/HRG/article/view/22/27›. Wheaton, Barbara Ketcham. Savouring the Past: The French Kitchen and Table from 1300-1789. London: Chatto & Windus, 1983. White, Eileen, ed. The English Cookery Book: Historical Essays. Proceedings of the 16th Leeds Symposium on Food History 2001. Devon: Prospect, 2001.

Introduction Ireland did not have a tradition of printed cookbooks prior to the 20th century. As a consequence, Irish culinary manuscripts from before this period are an important primary source for historians. This paper makes the case that the manuscripts are a unique way of accessing voices that have quotidian concerns seldom heard above the dominant narratives of conquest, colonisation and famine (Higgins; Dawson). Three manuscripts are examined to see how they contribute to an understanding of Irish social and culinary history. The Irish banking crisis of 2008 is a reminder that comments such as the one in the title of this paper may be more then a casual remark, indicating rather an underlying anxiety. Equally important is the evidence in the manuscripts that Ireland had a domestic culinary tradition sited within the culinary traditions of the British Isles. The terms “vernacular”, representing localised needs and traditions, and “polite”, representing stylistic features incorporated for aesthetic reasons, are more usually applied in the architectural world. As terms, they reflect in a politically neutral way the culinary divide witnessed in the manuscripts under discussion here. Two of the three manuscripts are anonymous, but all are written from the perspective of a well-provisioned house. The class background is elite and as such these manuscripts are not representative of the vernacular, which in culinary terms is likely to be a tradition recorded orally (Gold). The first manuscript (NLI, Tervoe) and second manuscript (NLI, Limerick) show the levels of impact of French culinary influence through their recipes for “cullis”. The Limerick manuscript also opens the discussion to wider social concerns. The third manuscript (NLI, Baker) is unusual in that the author, Mrs. Baker, goes to great lengths to record the provenance of the recipes and as such the collection affords a glimpse into the private “polite” world of the landed gentry in Ireland with its multiplicity of familial and societal connections. Cookbooks and Cuisine in Ireland in the 19th Century During the course of the 18th century, there were 136 new cookery book titles and 287 reprints published in Britain (Lehmann, Housewife 383). From the start of the 18th to the end of the 19th century only three cookbooks of Irish, or Anglo-Irish, authorship have been identified. The Lady’s Companion: or Accomplish’d Director In the whole Art of Cookery was published in 1767 by John Mitchell in Skinner-Row, under the pseudonym “Ceres,” while the Countess of Caledon’s Cheap Receipts and Hints on Cookery: Collected for Distribution Amongst the Irish Peasantry was printed in Armagh by J. M. Watters for private circulation in 1847. The modern sounding Dinners at Home, published in London in 1878 under the pseudonym “Short”, appears to be of Irish authorship, a review in The Irish Times describing it as being written by a “Dublin lady”, the inference being that she was known to the reviewer (Farmer). English Copyright Law was extended to Ireland in July 1801 after the Act of Union between Great Britain and Ireland in 1800 (Ferguson). Prior to this, many titles were pirated in Ireland, a cause of confusion alluded to by Lehmann when she comments regarding the Ceres book that it “does not appear to be simply a Dublin-printed edition of an English book” (Housewife 403). This attribution is based on the dedication in the preface: “To The Ladies of Dublin.” From her statement that she had a “great deal of experience in business of this kind”, one may conclude that Ceres had worked as a housekeeper or cook. Cheap Receipts and Hints on Cookery was the second of two books by Catherine Alexander, Countess of Caledon. While many commentators were offering advice to Irish people on how to alleviate their poverty, in Friendly Advice to Irish Mothers on Training their Children, Alexander was unusual in addressing her book specifically to its intended audience (Bourke). In this cookbook, the tone is of a practical didactic nature, the philosophy that of enablement. Given the paucity of printed material, manuscripts provide the main primary source regarding the existence of an indigenous culinary tradition. Attitudes regarding this tradition lie along the spectrum exemplified by the comments of an Irish journalist, Kevin Myers, and an eminent Irish historian, Louis Cullen. Myers describes Irish cuisine as a “travesty” and claims that the cuisine of “Old Ireland, in texture and in flavour, generally resembles the cinders after the suttee of a very large, but not very tasty widow”, Cullen makes the case that Irish cuisine is “one of the most interesting culinary traditions in Europe” (141). It is not proposed to investigate the ideological standpoints behind the various comments on Irish food. Indeed, the use of the term “Irish” in this context is fraught with difficulty and it should be noted that in the three manuscripts proposed here, the cuisine is that of the gentry class and representative of a particular stratum of society more accurately described as belonging to the Anglo-Irish tradition. It is also questionable how the authors of the three manuscripts discussed would have described themselves in terms of nationality. The anxiety surrounding this issue of identity is abating as scholarship has moved from viewing the cultural artifacts and buildings inherited from this class, not as symbols of an alien heritage, but rather as part of the narrative of a complex country (Rees). The antagonistic attitude towards this heritage could be seen as reaching its apogee in the late 1950s when the then Government minister, Kevin Boland, greeted the decision to demolish a row of Georgian houses in Dublin with jubilation, saying that they stood for everything that he despised, and describing the Georgian Society, who had campaigned for their preservation, as “the preserve of the idle rich and belted earls” (Foster 160). Mac Con Iomaire notes that there has been no comprehensive study of the history of Irish food, and the implications this has for opinions held, drawing attention to the lack of recognition that a “parallel Anglo-Irish cuisine existed among the Protestant elite” (43). To this must be added the observation that Myrtle Allen, the doyenne of the Irish culinary world, made when she observed that while we have an Irish identity in food, “we belong to a geographical and culinary group with Wales, England, and Scotland as all counties share their traditions with their next door neighbour” (1983). Three Irish Culinary Manuscripts The three manuscripts discussed here are held in the National Library of Ireland (NLI). The manuscript known as Tervoe has 402 folio pages with a 22-page index. The National Library purchased the manuscript at auction in December 2011. Although unattributed, it is believed to come from Tervoe House in County Limerick (O’Daly). Built in 1776 by Colonel W.T. Monsell (b.1754), the Monsell family lived there until 1951 (see, Fig. 1). The house was demolished in 1953 (Bence-Jones). William Monsell, 1st Lord Emly (1812–94) could be described as the most distinguished of the family. Raised in an atmosphere of devotion to the Union (with Great Britain), loyalty to the Church of Ireland, and adherence to the Tory Party, he converted in 1850 to the Roman Catholic religion, under the influence of Cardinal Newman and the Oxford Movement, changing his political allegiance from Tory to Whig. It is believed that this change took place as a result of the events surrounding the Great Irish Famine of 1845–50 (Potter). The Tervoe manuscript is catalogued as 18th century, and as the house was built in the last quarter of the century, it would be reasonable to surmise that its conception coincided with that period. It is a handsome volume with original green vellum binding, which has been conserved. Fig. 1. Tervoe House, home of the Monsell family. In terms of culinary prowess, the scope of the Tervoe manuscript is extensive. For the purpose of this discussion, one recipe is of particular interest. The recipe, To make a Cullis for Flesh Soups, instructs the reader to take the fat off four pounds of the best beef, roast the beef, pound it to a paste with crusts of bread and the carcasses of partridges or other fowl “that you have by you” (NLI, Tervoe). This mixture should then be moistened with best gravy, and strong broth, and seasoned with pepper, thyme, cloves, and lemon, then sieved for use with the soup. In 1747 Hannah Glasse published The Art of Cookery, Made Plain and Easy. The 1983 facsimile edition explains the term “cullis” as an Anglicisation of the French word coulis, “a preparation for thickening soups and stews” (182). The coulis was one of the essential components of the nouvelle cuisine of the 18th century. This movement sought to separate itself from “the conspicuous consumption of profusion” to one where the impression created was one of refinement and elegance (Lehmann, Housewife 210). Reactions in England to this French culinary innovation were strong, if not strident. Glasse derides French “tricks”, along with French cooks, and the coulis was singled out for particular opprobrium. In reality, Glasse bestrides both sides of the divide by giving the much-hated recipe and commenting on it. She provides another example of this in her recipe for The French Way of Dressing Partridges to which she adds the comment: “this dish I do not recommend; for I think it an odd jumble of thrash, by that time the Cullis, the Essence of Ham, and all other Ingredients are reckoned, the Partridges will come to a fine penny; but such Receipts as this, is what you have in most Books of Cookery yet printed” (53). When Daniel Defoe in The Complete English Tradesman of 1726 criticised French tradesmen for spending so much on the facades of their shops that they were unable to offer their customers a varied stock within, we can see the antipathy spilling over into other creative fields (Craske). As a critical strategy, it is not dissimilar to Glasse when she comments “now compute the expense, and see if this dish cannot be dressed full as well without this expense” at the end of a recipe for the supposedly despised Cullis for all Sorts of Ragoo (53). Food had become part of the defining image of Britain as an aggressively Protestant culture in opposition to Catholic France (Lehmann Politics 75). The author of the Tervoe manuscript makes no comment about the dish other than “A Cullis is a mixture of things, strained off.” This is in marked contrast to the second manuscript (NLI, Limerick). The author of this anonymous manuscript, from which the title of this paper is taken, is considerably perplexed by the term cullis, despite the manuscript dating 1811 (Fig. 2). Of Limerick provenance also, but considerably more modest in binding and scope, the manuscript was added to for twenty years, entries terminating around 1831. The recipe for Beef Stake (sic) Pie is an exact transcription of a recipe in John Simpson’s A Complete System of Cookery, published in 1806, and reads Cut some beef steaks thin, butter a pan (or as Lord Buckingham’s cook, from whom these rects are taken, calls it a soutis pan, ? [sic] (what does he mean, is it a saucepan) [sic] sprinkle the pan with pepper and salt, shallots thyme and parsley, put the beef steaks in and the pan on the fire for a few minutes then put them to cool, when quite cold put them in the fire, scrape all the herbs in over the fire and ornament as you please, it will take an hour and half, when done take the top off and put in some coulis (what is that?) [sic]. Fig. 2. Beef Stake Pie (NLI, Limerick). Courtesy of the National Library of Ireland. Simpson was cook to Lord Buckingham for at least a year in 1796, and may indeed have travelled to Ireland with the Duke who had several connections there. A feature of this manuscript are the number of Cholera remedies that it contains, including the “Rect for the cholera sent by Dr Shanfer from Warsaw to the Brussels Government”. Cholera had reached Germany by 1830, and England by 1831. By March 1832, it had struck Belfast and Dublin, the following month being noted in Cork, in the south of the country. Lasting a year, the epidemic claimed 50,000 lives in Ireland (Fenning). On 29 April 1832, the diarist Amhlaoibh Ó Súilleabháin notes, “we had a meeting today to keep the cholera from Callan. May God help us” (De Bhaldraithe 132). By 18 June, the cholera is “wrecking destruction in Ennis, Limerick and Tullamore” (135) and on 26 November, “Seed being sown. The end of the month wet and windy. The cholera came to Callan at the beginning of the month. Twenty people went down with it and it left the town then” (139). This situation was obviously of great concern and this is registered in the manuscript. Another concern is that highlighted by the recommendation that “this receipt is as good as the bank. It has been obligingly given to Mrs Hawkesworth by the chief book keeper at the Bank of Ireland” (NLI, Limerick). The Bank of Ireland commenced business at St. Mary’s Abbey in Dublin in June 1783, having been established under the protection of the Irish Parliament as a chartered rather then a central bank. As such, it supplied a currency of solidity. The charter establishing the bank, however, contained a prohibitory clause preventing (until 1824 when it was repealed) more then six persons forming themselves into a company to carry on the business of banking. This led to the formation, especially outside Dublin, of many “small private banks whose failure was the cause of immense wretchedness to all classes of the population” (Gilbert 19). The collapse that caused the most distress was that of the Ffrench bank in 1814, founded eleven years previously by the family of Lord Ffrench, one of the leading Catholic peers, based in Connacht in the west of Ireland. The bank issued notes in exchange for Bank of Ireland notes. Loans from Irish banks were in the form of paper money which were essentially printed promises to pay the amount stated and these notes were used in ordinary transactions. So great was the confidence in the Ffrench bank that their notes were held by the public in preference to Bank of Ireland notes, most particularly in Connacht. On 27 June 1814, there was a run on the bank leading to collapse. The devastation spread through society, from business through tenant farmers to the great estates, and notably so in Galway. Lord Ffrench shot himself in despair (Tennison). Williams and Finn, founded in Kilkenny in 1805, entered bankruptcy proceedings in 1816, and the last private bank outside Dublin, Delacours in Mallow, failed in 1835 (Barrow). The issue of bank failure is commented on by writers of the period, notably so in Dickens, Thackery, and Gaskill, and Edgeworth in Ireland. Following on the Ffrench collapse, notes from the Bank of Ireland were accorded increased respect, reflected in the comment in this recipe. The receipt in question is one for making White Currant Wine, with the unusual addition of a slice of bacon suspended from the bunghole when the wine is turned, for the purpose of enriching it. The recipe was provided to “Mrs Hawkesworth by the chief book keeper of the bank” (NLI, Limerick). In 1812, a John Hawkesworth, agent to Lord CastleCoote, was living at Forest Lodge, Mountrath, County Laois (Ennis Chronicle). The Coote family, although settling in County Laois in the seventeenth century, had strong connections with Limerick through a descendent of the younger brother of the first Earl of Mountrath (Landed Estates). The last manuscript for discussion is the manuscript book of Mrs Abraham Whyte Baker of Ballytobin House, County Kilkenny, 1810 (NLI, Baker). Ballytobin, or more correctly Ballaghtobin, is a townland in the barony of Kells, four miles from the previously mentioned Callan. The land was confiscated from the Tobin family during the Cromwellian campaign in Ireland of 1649–52, and was reputedly purchased by a Captain Baker, to establish what became the estate of Ballaghtobin (Fig. 3) To this day, it is a functioning estate, remaining in the family, twice passing down through the female line. In its heyday, there were two acres of walled gardens from which the house would have drawn for its own provisions (Ballaghtobin). Fig. 3. Ballaghtobin 2013. At the time of writing the manuscript, Mrs. Sophia Baker was widowed and living at Ballaghtobin with her son and daughter-in-law, Charity who was “no beauty, but tall, slight” (Herbert 414). On the succession of her husband to the estate, Charity became mistress of Ballaghtobin, leaving Sophia with time on what were her obviously very capable hands (Nevin). Sophia Baker was the daughter of Sir John Blunden of Castle Blunden and Lucinda Cuffe, daughter of the first Baron Desart. Sophia was also first cousin of the diarist Dorothea Herbert, whose mother was Lucinda’s sister, Martha. Sophia Baker and Dorothea Herbert have left for posterity a record of life in the landed gentry class in rural Georgian Ireland, Dorothea describing Mrs. Baker as “full of life and spirits” (Herbert 70). Their close relationship allows the two manuscripts to converse with each other in a unique way. Mrs. Baker’s detailing of the provenance of her recipes goes beyond the norm, so that what she has left us is not just a remarkable work of culinary history but also a palimpsest of her family and social circle. Among the people she references are: “my grandmother”; Dorothea Beresford, half sister to the Earl of Tyrone, who lived in the nearby Curraghmore House; Lady Tyrone; and Aunt Howth, the sister of Dorothea Beresford, married to William St Lawrence, Lord Howth, and described by Johnathan Swift as “his blue eyed nymph” (195). Other attributions include Lady Anne Fitzgerald, wife of Maurice Fitzgerald, 16th knight of Kerry, Sir William Parsons, Major Labilen, and a Mrs. Beaufort (Fig. 4). Fig. 4. Mrs. Beauforts Rect. (NLI, Baker). Courtesy of the National Library of Ireland. That this Mrs. Beaufort was the wife of Daniel Augustus Beaufort, mother of the hydrographer Sir Francis Beaufort, may be deduced from the succeeding recipe supplied by a Mrs. Waller. Mrs. Beaufort’s maiden name was Waller. Fanny Beaufort, the elder sister of Sir Francis, was Richard Edgeworth’s fourth wife and close friend and confidante of his daughter Maria, the novelist. There are also entries for “Miss Herbert” and “Aunt Herbert.” While the Baker manuscript is of interest for the fact that it intersects the worlds of the novelist Maria Edgeworth and the diarist Dorothea Herbert, and for the societal references that it documents, it is also a fine collection of recipes that date back to the mid-18th century. An example of this is a recipe for Sligo pickled salmon that Mrs. Baker, nee Blunden, refers to in an index that she gives to a second volume. Unfortunately this second volume is not known to be extant. This recipe features in a Blunden family manuscript of 1760 as referred to in Anelecta Hibernica (McLysaght). The recipe has also appeared in Cookery and Cures of Old Kilkenny (St. Canices’s 24). Unlike the Tervoe and Limerick manuscripts, Mrs. Baker is unconcerned with recipes for “cullis”. Conclusion The three manuscripts that have been examined here are from the period before the famine of 1845–50, known as An Gorta Mór, translated as “the big hunger”. The famine preceding this, Bliain an Áir (the year of carnage) in 1740–1 was caused by extremely cold and rainy weather that wiped out the harvest (Ó Gráda 15). This earlier famine, almost forgotten today, was more severe than the subsequent one, causing the death of an eight of the population of the island over one and a half years (McBride). These manuscripts are written in living memory of both events. Within the world that they inhabit, it may appear there is little said about hunger or social conditions beyond the walls of their estates. Subjected to closer analysis, however, it is evident that they are loquacious in their own unique way, and make an important contribution to the narrative of cookbooks. Through the three manuscripts discussed here, we find evidence of the culinary hegemony of France and how practitioners in Ireland commented on this in comparatively neutral fashion. An awareness of cholera and bank collapses have been communicated in a singular fashion, while a conversation between diarist and culinary networker has allowed a glimpse into the world of the landed gentry in Ireland during the Georgian period. References Allen, M. “Statement by Myrtle Allen at the opening of Ballymaloe Cookery School.” 14 Nov. 1983. Ballaghtobin. “The Grounds”. nd. 13 Mar. 2013. ‹http://www.ballaghtobin.com/gardens.html›. Barrow, G.L. “Some Dublin Private Banks.” Dublin Historical Record 25.2 (1972): 38–53. Bence-Jones, M. A Guide to Irish Country Houses. London: Constable, 1988. Bourke, A. Ed. Field Day Anthology of Irish Writing Vol V. Cork: Cork UP, 2002. Craske, M. “Design and the Competitive Spirit in Early and Mid 18th Century England”, Journal of Design History 12.3 (1999): 187–216. Cullen, L. The Emergence of Modern Ireland. London: Batsford, 1981. Dawson, Graham. “Trauma, Memory, Politics. The Irish Troubles.” Trauma: Life Stories of Survivors. Ed. Kim Lacy Rogers, Selma Leydesdorff and Graham Dawson. New Jersey: Transaction P, 2004. De Bhaldraithe,T. Ed. Cín Lae Amhlaoibh. Cork: Mercier P, 1979. Ennis Chronicle. 12–23 Feb 1812. 10 Feb. 2013 ‹http://astheywere.blogspot.ie/2012/12/ennis-chronicle-1812-feb-23-feb-12.html› Farmar, A. E-mail correspondence between Farmar and Dr M. Mac Con Iomaire, 26 Jan. 2011. Fenning, H. “The Cholera Epidemic in Ireland 1832–3: Priests, Ministers, Doctors”. Archivium Hibernicum 57 (2003): 77–125. Ferguson, F. “The Industrialisation of Irish Book Production 1790-1900.” The Oxford History of the Irish Book, Vol. IV The Irish Book in English 1800-1891. Ed. J. Murphy. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2011. Foster, R.F. Luck and the Irish: A Brief History of Change from 1970. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2008. Gilbert, James William. The History of Banking in Ireland. London: Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Longman, 1836. Glasse, Hannah. The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy by a Lady: Facsimile Edition. Devon: Prospect, 1983. Gold, C. Danish Cookbooks. Seattle: U of Washington P, 2007. Herbert, D. Retrospections of an Outcast or the Life of Dorothea Herbert. London: Gerald Howe, 1929. Higgins, Michael D. “Remarks by President Michael D. Higgins reflecting on the Gorta Mór: the Great famine of Ireland.” Famine Commemoration, Boston, 12 May 2012. 18 Feb. 2013 ‹http://www.president.ie/speeches/ › Landed Estates Database, National University of Galway, Moore Institute for Research, 10 Feb. 2013 ‹http://landedestates.nuigalway.ie/LandedEstates/jsp/family-show.jsp?id=633.› Lehmann, G. The British Housewife: Cookery books, cooking and society in eighteenth-century Britain. Totnes: Prospect, 1993. ---. “Politics in the Kitchen.” 18th Century Life 23.2 (1999): 71–83. Mac Con Iomaire, M. “The Emergence, Development and Influence of French Haute Cuisine on Public Dining in Dublin Restaurants 1900-2000: An Oral History”. Vol. 2. PhD thesis. Dublin Institute of Technology. 2009. 8 Mar. 2013 ‹http://arrow.dit.ie/tourdoc/12›. McBride, Ian. Eighteenth Century Ireland: The Isle of Slaves. Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 2009. McLysaght, E.A. Anelecta Hibernica 15. Dublin: Irish Manuscripts Commission, 1944. Myers, K. “Dinner is served ... But in Our Culinary Dessert it may be Korean.” The Irish Independent 30 Jun. 2006. Nevin, M. “A County Kilkenny Georgian Household Notebook.” Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 109 (1979): 5–18. (NLI) National Library of Ireland. Baker. 19th century manuscript. MS 34,952. ---. Limerick. 19th century manuscript. MS 42,105. ---. Tervoe. 18th century manuscript. MS 42,134. Ó Gráda, C. Famine: A Short History. New Jersey: Princeton UP, 2009. O’Daly, C. E-mail correspondence between Colette O’Daly, Assistant Keeper, Dept. of Manuscripts, National Library of Ireland and Dorothy Cashman. 8 Dec. 2011. Potter, M. William Monsell of Tervoe 1812-1894. Dublin: Irish Academic P, 2009. Rees, Catherine. “Irish Anxiety, Identity and Narrative in the Plays of McDonagh and Jones.” Redefinitions of Irish Identity: A Postnationalist Approach. Eds. Irene Gilsenan Nordin and Carmen Zamorano Llena. Bern: Peter Lang, 2010. St. Canice’s. Cookery and Cures of Old Kilkenny. Kilkenny: Boethius P, 1983. Swift, J. The Works of the Rev Dr J Swift Vol. XIX Dublin: Faulkner, 1772. 8 Feb. 2013. ‹http://www.google.ie/search?tbm=bks&hl=en&q=works+of+jonathan+swift+Vol+XIX+&btnG=› Tennison, C.M. “The Old Dublin Bankers.” Journal of the Cork Historical and Archeological Society 1.2 (1895): 36–9.

IntroductionFood Studies is a relatively recent area of research enquiry in Australia and Magazine Studies is even newer (Le Masurier and Johinke), with the consequence that Australian culinary magazines are only just beginning to be investigated. Moreover, although many major libraries have not thought such popular magazines worthy of sustained collection (Fox and Sornil), considering these publications is important. As de Certeau argues, it can be of considerable consequence to identify and analyse everyday practices (such as producing and reading popular magazines) that seem so minor and insignificant as to be unworthy of notice, as these practices have the ability to affect our lives. It is important in this case as these publications were part of the post-war gastronomic environment in Australia in which national tastes in domestic cookery became radically internationalised (Santich). To further investigate Australian magazines, as well as suggesting how these cosmopolitan eating habits became more widely embraced, this article will survey the various ways in which the idea of “abroad” is expressed in one Australian culinary serial from the post-war period, Australian Wines & Food Quarterly magazine, which was published from 1956 to 1960. The methodological approach taken is an historically-informed content analysis (Krippendorff) of relevant material from these magazines combined with germane media data (Hodder). All issues in the serial’s print run have been considered.Australian Post-War Culinary PublishingTo date, studies of 1950s writing in Australia have largely focused on literary and popular fiction (Johnson-Wood; Webby) and literary criticism (Bird; Dixon; Lee). There have been far fewer studies of non-fiction writing of any kind, although some serial publications from this time have attracted some attention (Bell; Lindesay; Ross; Sheridan; Warner-Smith; White; White). In line with studies internationally, groundbreaking work in Australian food history has focused on cookbooks, and includes work by Supski, who notes that despite the fact that buying cookbooks was “regarded as a luxury in the 1950s” (87), such publications were an important information source in terms of “developing, consolidating and extending foodmaking knowledge” at that time (85).It is widely believed that changes to Australian foodways were brought about by significant post-war immigration and the recipes and dishes these immigrants shared with neighbours, friends, and work colleagues and more widely afield when they opened cafes and restaurants (Newton; Newton; Manfredi). Although these immigrants did bring new culinary flavours and habits with them, the overarching rhetoric guiding population policy at this time was assimilation, with migrants expected to abandon their culture, language, and habits in favour of the dominant British-influenced ways of living (Postiglione). While migrants often did retain their foodways (Risson), the relationship between such food habits and the increasingly cosmopolitan Australian food culture is much more complex than the dominant cultural narrative would have us believe. It has been pointed out, for example, that while the haute cuisine of countries such as France, Italy, and Germany was much admired in Australia and emulated in expensive dining (Brien and Vincent), migrants’ own preference for their own dishes instead of Anglo-Australian choices, was not understood (Postiglione). Duruz has added how individual diets are eclectic, “multi-layered and hybrid” (377), incorporating foods from both that person’s own background with others available for a range of reasons including availability, cost, taste, and fashion. In such an environment, popular culinary publishing, in terms of cookbooks, specialist magazines, and recipe and other food-related columns in general magazines and newspapers, can be posited to be another element contributing to this change.Australian Wines & Food QuarterlyAustralian Wines & Food Quarterly (AWFQ) is, as yet, a completely unexamined publication, and there appears to be only three complete sets of this magazine held in public collections. It is important to note that, at the time it was launched in the mid-1950s, food writing played a much less significant part in Australian popular publishing than it does today, with far fewer cookbooks released than today, and women’s magazines and the women’s pages of newspapers containing only small recipe sections. In this environment, a new specialist culinary magazine could be seen to be timely, an audacious gamble, or both.All issues of this magazine were produced and printed in, and distributed from, Melbourne, Australia. Although no sales or distribution figures are available, production was obviously a struggle, with only 15 issues published before the magazine folded at the end of 1960. The title of the magazine changed over this time, and issue release dates are erratic, as is the method in which volumes and issues are numbered. Although the number of pages varied from 32 up to 52, and then less once again, across the magazine’s life, the price was steadily reduced, ending up at less than half the original cover price. All issues were produced and edited by Donald Wallace, who also wrote much of the content, with contributions from family members, including his wife, Mollie Wallace, to write, illustrate, and produce photographs for the magazine.When considering the content of the magazine, most is quite familiar in culinary serials today, although AWFQ’s approach was radically innovative in Australia at this time when cookbooks, women’s magazines, and newspaper cookery sections focused on recipes, many of which were of cakes, biscuits, and other sweet baking (Bannerman). AWFQ not only featured many discursive essays and savory meals, it also featured much wine writing and review-style content as well as information about restaurant dining in each issue.Wine-Related ContentWine is certainly the most prominent of the content areas, with most issues of the magazine containing more wine-related content than any other. Moreover, in the early issues, most of the food content is about preparing dishes and/or meals that could be consumed alongside wines, although the proportion of food content increases as the magazine is published. This wine-related content takes a clearly international perspective on this topic. While many articles and advertisements, for example, narrate the long history of Australian wine growing—which goes back to early 19th century—these articles argue that Australia's vineyards and wineries measure up to international, and especially French, examples. In one such example, the author states that: “from the earliest times Australia’s wines have matched up to world standard” (“Wine” 25). This contest can be situated in Australia, where a leading restaurant (Caprice in Sydney) could be seen to not only “match up to” but also, indeed to, “challenge world standards” by serving Australian wines instead of imports (“Sydney” 33). So good, indeed, are Australian wines that when foreigners are surprised by their quality, this becomes newsworthy. This is evidenced in the following excerpt: “Nearly every English businessman who has come out to Australia in the last ten years … has diverted from his main discussion to comment on the high quality of Australian wine” (Seppelt, 3). In a similar nationalist vein, many articles feature overseas experts’ praise of Australian wines. Thus, visiting Italian violinist Giaconda de Vita shows a “keen appreciation of Australian wines” (“Violinist” 30), British actor Robert Speaight finds Grange Hermitage “an ideal wine” (“High Praise” 13), and the Swedish ambassador becomes their advocate (Ludbrook, “Advocate”).This competition could also be located overseas including when Australian wines are served at prestigious overseas events such as a dinner for members of the Overseas Press Club in New York (Australian Wines); sold from Seppelt’s new London cellars (Melbourne), or the equally new Australian Wine Centre in Soho (Australia Will); or, featured in exhibitions and promotions such as the Lausanne Trade Fair (Australia is Guest;“Wines at Lausanne), or the International Wine Fair in Yugoslavia (Australia Wins).Australia’s first Wine Festival was held in Melbourne in 1959 (Seppelt, “Wine Week”), the joint focus of which was the entertainment and instruction of the some 15,000 to 20,000 attendees who were expected. At its centre was a series of free wine tastings aiming to promote Australian wines to the “professional people of the community, as well as the general public and the housewife” (“Melbourne” 8), although admission had to be recommended by a wine retailer. These tastings were intended to build up the prestige of Australian wine when compared to international examples: “It is the high quality of our wines that we are proud of. That is the story to pass on—that Australian wine, at its best, is at least as good as any in the world and better than most” (“Melbourne” 8).There is also a focus on promoting wine drinking as a quotidian habit enjoyed abroad: “We have come a long way in less than twenty years […] An enormous number of husbands and wives look forward to a glass of sherry when the husband arrives home from work and before dinner, and a surprising number of ordinary people drink table wine quite un-selfconsciously” (Seppelt, “Advance” 3). However, despite an acknowledged increase in wine appreciation and drinking, there is also acknowledgement that this there was still some way to go in this aim as, for example, in the statement: “There is no reason why the enjoyment of table wines should not become an Australian custom” (Seppelt, “Advance” 4).The authority of European experts and European habits is drawn upon throughout the publication whether in philosophically-inflected treatises on wine drinking as a core part of civilised behaviour, or practically-focused articles about wine handling and serving (Keown; Seabrook; “Your Own”). Interestingly, a number of Australian experts are also quoted as stressing that these are guidelines, not strict rules: Crosby, for instance, states: “There is no ‘right wine.’ The wine to drink is the one you like, when and how you like it” (19), while the then-manager of Lindemans Wines is similarly reassuring in his guide to entertaining, stating that “strict adherence to the rules is not invariably wise” (Mackay 3). Tingey openly acknowledges that while the international-style of regularly drinking wine had “given more dignity and sophistication to the Australian way of life” (35), it should not be shrouded in snobbery.Food-Related ContentThe magazine’s cookery articles all feature international dishes, and certain foreign foods, recipes, and ways of eating and dining are clearly identified as “gourmet”. Cheese is certainly the most frequently mentioned “gourmet” food in the magazine, and is featured in every issue. These articles can be grouped into the following categories: understanding cheese (how it is made and the different varieties enjoyed internationally), how to consume cheese (in relation to other food and specific wines, and in which particular parts of a meal, again drawing on international practices), and cooking with cheese (mostly in what can be identified as “foreign” recipes).Some of this content is produced by Kraft Foods, a major advertiser in the magazine, and these articles and recipes generally focus on urging people to eat more, and varied international kinds of cheese, beyond the ubiquitous Australian cheddar. In terms of advertorials, both Kraft cheeses (as well as other advertisers) are mentioned by brand in recipes, while the companies are also profiled in adjacent articles. In the fourth issue, for instance, a full-page, infomercial-style advertisement, noting the different varieties of Kraft cheese and how to serve them, is published in the midst of a feature on cooking with various cheeses (“Cooking with Cheese”). This includes recipes for Swiss Cheese fondue and two pasta recipes: spaghetti and spicy tomato sauce, and a so-called Italian spaghetti with anchovies.Kraft’s company history states that in 1950, it was the first business in Australia to manufacture and market rindless cheese. Through these AWFQ advertisements and recipes, Kraft aggressively marketed this innovation, as well as its other new products as they were launched: mayonnaise, cheddar cheese portions, and Cracker Barrel Cheese in 1954; Philadelphia Cream Cheese, the first cream cheese to be produced commercially in Australia, in 1956; and, Coon Cheese in 1957. Not all Kraft products were seen, however, as “gourmet” enough for such a magazine. Kraft’s release of sliced Swiss Cheese in 1957, and processed cheese slices in 1959, for instance, both passed unremarked in either the magazine’s advertorial or recipes.An article by the Australian Dairy Produce Board urging consumers to “Be adventurous with Cheese” presented general consumer information including the “origin, characteristics and mode of serving” cheese accompanied by a recipe for a rich and exotic-sounding “Wine French Dressing with Blue Cheese” (Kennedy 18). This was followed in the next issue by an article discussing both now familiar and not-so familiar European cheese varieties: “Monterey, Tambo, Feta, Carraway, Samsoe, Taffel, Swiss, Edam, Mozzarella, Pecorino-Romano, Red Malling, Cacio Cavallo, Blue-Vein, Roman, Parmigiano, Kasseri, Ricotta and Pepato” (“Australia’s Natural” 23). Recipes for cheese fondues recur through the magazine, sometimes even multiple times in the same issue (see, for instance, “Cooking With Cheese”; “Cooking With Wine”; Pain). In comparison, butter, although used in many AWFQ’s recipes, was such a common local ingredient at this time that it was only granted one article over the entire run of the magazine, and this was largely about the much more unusual European-style unsalted butter (“An Expert”).Other international recipes that were repeated often include those for pasta (always spaghetti) as well as mayonnaise made with olive oil. Recurring sweets and desserts include sorbets and zabaglione from Italy, and flambéd crepes suzettes from France. While tabletop cooking is the epitome of sophistication and described as an international technique, baked Alaska (ice cream nestled on liquor-soaked cake, and baked in a meringue shell), hailing from America, is the most featured recipe in the magazine. Asian-inspired cuisine was rarely represented and even curry—long an Anglo-Australian staple—was mentioned only once in the magazine, in an article reprinted from the South African The National Hotelier, and which included a recipe alongside discussion of blending spices (“Curry”).Coffee was regularly featured in both articles and advertisements as a staple of the international gourmet kitchen (see, for example, Bancroft). Articles on the history, growing, marketing, blending, roasting, purchase, percolating and brewing, and serving of coffee were common during the magazine’s run, and are accompanied with advertisements for Bushell’s, Robert Timms’s and Masterfoods’s coffee ranges. AWFQ believed Australia’s growing coffee consumption was the result of increased participation in quality internationally-influenced dining experiences, whether in restaurants, the “scores of colourful coffee shops opening their doors to a new generation” (“Coffee” 39), or at home (Adams). Tea, traditionally the Australian hot drink of choice, is not mentioned once in the magazine (Brien).International Gourmet InnovationsAlso featured in the magazine are innovations in the Australian food world: new places to eat; new ways to cook, including a series of sometimes quite unusual appliances; and new ways to shop, with a profile of the first American-style supermarkets to open in Australia in this period. These are all seen as overseas innovations, but highly suited to Australia. The laws then controlling the service of alcohol are also much discussed, with many calls to relax the licensing laws which were seen as inhibiting civilised dining and drinking practices. The terms this was often couched in—most commonly in relation to the Olympic Games (held in Melbourne in 1956), but also in relation to tourism in general—are that these restrictive regulations were an embarrassment for Melbourne when considered in relation to international practices (see, for example, Ludbrook, “Present”). This was at a time when the nightly hotel closing time of 6.00 pm (and the performance of the notorious “six o’clock swill” in terms of drinking behaviour) was only repealed in Victoria in 1966 (Luckins).Embracing scientific approaches in the kitchen was largely seen to be an American habit. The promotion of the use of electricity in the kitchen, and the adoption of new electric appliances (Gas and Fuel; Gilbert “Striving”), was described not only as a “revolution that is being wrought in our homes”, but one that allowed increased levels of personal expression and fulfillment, in “increas[ing] the time and resources available to the housewife for the expression of her own personality in the management of her home” (Gilbert, “The Woman’s”). This mirrors the marketing of these modes of cooking and appliances in other media at this time, including in newspapers, radio, and other magazines. This included features on freezing food, however AWFQ introduced an international angle, by suggesting that recipe bases could be pre-prepared, frozen, and then defrosted to use in a range of international cookery (“Fresh”; “How to”; Kelvinator Australia). The then-new marvel of television—another American innovation—is also mentioned in the magazine ("Changing concepts"), although other nationalities are also invoked. The history of the French guild the Confrerie de la Chaine des Roitisseurs in 1248 is, for instance, used to promote an electric spit roaster that was part of a state-of-the-art gas stove (“Always”), and there are also advertisements for such appliances as the Gaggia expresso machine (“Lets”) which draw on both Italian historical antecedence and modern science.Supermarket and other forms of self-service shopping are identified as American-modern, with Australia’s first shopping mall lauded as the epitome of utopian progressiveness in terms of consumer practice. Judged to mark “a new era in Australian retailing” (“Regional” 12), the opening of Chadstone Regional Shopping Centre in suburban Melbourne on 4 October 1960, with its 83 tenants including “giant” supermarket Dickens, and free parking for 2,500 cars, was not only “one of the most up to date in the world” but “big even by American standards” (“Regional” 12, italics added), and was hailed as a step in Australia “catching up” with the United States in terms of mall shopping (“Regional” 12). This shopping centre featured international-styled dining options including Bistro Shiraz, an outdoor terrace restaurant that planned to operate as a bistro-snack bar by day and full-scale restaurant at night, and which was said to offer diners a “Persian flavor” (“Bistro”).ConclusionAustralian Wines & Food Quarterly was the first of a small number of culinary-focused Australian publications in the 1950s and 1960s which assisted in introducing a generation of readers to information about what were then seen as foreign foods and beverages only to be accessed and consumed abroad as well as a range of innovative international ideas regarding cookery and dining. For this reason, it can be posited that the magazine, although modest in the claims it made, marked a revolutionary moment in Australian culinary publishing. As yet, only slight traces can be found of its editor and publisher, Donald Wallace. The influence of AWFQ is, however, clearly evident in the two longer-lived magazines that were launched in the decade after AWFQ folded: Australian Gourmet Magazine and The Epicurean. Although these serials had a wider reach, an analysis of the 15 issues of AWFQ adds to an understanding of how ideas of foods, beverages, and culinary ideas and trends, imported from abroad were presented to an Australian readership in the 1950s, and contributed to how national foodways were beginning to change during that decade.ReferencesAdams, Jillian. “Australia’s American Coffee Culture.” Australian Journal of Popular Culture 2.1 (2012): 23–36.“Always to Roast on a Turning Spit.” The Magazine of Good Living: Australian Wines and Food 4.2 (1960): 17.“An Expert on Butter.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 4.1 (1960): 11.“Australia Is Guest Nation at Lausanne.” The Magazine of Good Living: Australian Wines and Food 4.2 (1960): 18–19.“Australia’s Natural Cheeses.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 4.1 (1960): 23.“Australia Will Be There.” The Magazine of Good Living: Australian Wines and Food 4.2 (1960): 14.“Australian Wines Served at New York Dinner.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.5 (1958): 16.“Australia Wins Six Gold Medals.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.11 (1959/1960): 3.Bancroft, P.A. “Let’s Make Some Coffee.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 4.1 (1960): 10. Bannerman, Colin. Seed Cake and Honey Prawns: Fashion and Fad in Australian Food. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2008.Bell, Johnny. “Putting Dad in the Picture: Fatherhood in the Popular Women’s Magazines of 1950s Australia.” Women's History Review 22.6 (2013): 904–929.Bird, Delys, Robert Dixon, and Christopher Lee. Eds. Authority and Influence: Australian Literary Criticism 1950-2000. Brisbane: U of Queensland P, 2001.“Bistro at Chadstone.” The Magazine of Good Living 4.3 (1960): 3.Brien, Donna Lee. “Powdered, Essence or Brewed? Making and Cooking with Coffee in Australia in the 1950s and 1960s.” M/C Journal 15.2 (2012). 20 July 2016 <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/view/475>.Brien, Donna Lee, and Alison Vincent. “Oh, for a French Wife? Australian Women and Culinary Francophilia in Post-War Australia.” Lilith: A Feminist History Journal 22 (2016): 78–90.De Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley: U of California P, 1998.“Changing Concepts of Cooking.” Australian Wines & Food 2.11 (1958/1959): 18-19.“Coffee Beginnings.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.4 (1957/1958): 37–39.“Cooking with Cheese.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.4 (1957/1958): 25–28.“Cooking with Wine.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.11 (1959/1960): 24–30.Crosby, R.D. “Wine Etiquette.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.4 (1957/1958): 19–21.“Curry and How to Make It.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.2 (1957): 32.Duruz, Jean. “Rewriting the Village: Geographies of Food and Belonging in Clovelly, Australia.” Cultural Geographies 9 (2002): 373–388.Fox, Edward A., and Ohm Sornil. “Digital Libraries.” Encyclopedia of Computer Science. 4th ed. Eds. Anthony Ralston, Edwin D. Reilly, and David Hemmendinger. London: Nature Publishing Group, 2000. 576–581.“Fresh Frozen Food.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.8 (1959): 8.Gas and Fuel Corporation of Victoria. “Wine Makes the Recipe: Gas Makes the Dish.” Advertisement. Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.3 (1957): 34.Gilbert, V.J. “Striving for Perfection.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 4.1 (1960): 6.———. “The Woman’s Workshop.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wines & Food 4.2 (1960): 22.“High Praise for Penfolds Claret.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 4.1 (1960): 13.Hodder, Ian. The Interpretation of Documents and Material Culture. Thousand Oaks, CA.: Sage, 1994.“How to Cook Frozen Meats.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.8 (1959): 19, 26.Johnson-Woods, Toni. Pulp: A Collector’s Book of Australian Pulp Fiction Covers. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2004.Kelvinator Australia. “Try Cooking the Frozen ‘Starter’ Way.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.9 (1959): 10–12.Kennedy, H.E. “Be Adventurous with Cheese.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 3.12 (1960): 18–19.Keown, K.C. “Some Notes on Wine.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 4.1 (1960): 32–33.Krippendorff, Klaus. Content Analysis: An Introduction to Its Methodology. 2nd ed. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2004.“Let’s Make Some Coffee.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wines and Food 4.2: 23.Lindesay, Vance. The Way We Were: Australian Popular Magazines 1856–1969. Melbourne: Oxford UP, 1983.Luckins, Tanja. “Pigs, Hogs and Aussie Blokes: The Emergence of the Term “Six O’clock Swill.”’ History Australia 4.1 (2007): 8.1–8.17.Ludbrook, Jack. “Advocate for Australian Wines.” The Magazine of Good Living: Australian Wines and Food 4.2 (1960): 3–4.Ludbrook, Jack. “Present Mixed Licensing Laws Harm Tourist Trade.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.9 (1959): 14, 31.Kelvinator Australia. “Try Cooking the Frozen ‘Starter’ Way.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.9 (1959): 10–12.Mackay, Colin. “Entertaining with Wine.” Australian Wines &Foods Quarterly 1.5 (1958): 3–5.Le Masurier, Megan, and Rebecca Johinke. “Magazine Studies: Pedagogy and Practice in a Nascent Field.” TEXT Special Issue 25 (2014). 20 July 2016 <http://www.textjournal.com.au/speciss/issue25/LeMasurier&Johinke.pdf>.“Melbourne Stages Australia’s First Wine Festival.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.10 (1959): 8–9.Newton, John, and Stefano Manfredi. “Gottolengo to Bonegilla: From an Italian Childhood to an Australian Restaurant.” Convivium 2.1 (1994): 62–63.Newton, John. Wogfood: An Oral History with Recipes. Sydney: Random House, 1996.Pain, John Bowen. “Cooking with Wine.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.3 (1957): 39–48.Postiglione, Nadia.“‘It Was Just Horrible’: The Food Experience of Immigrants in 1950s Australia.” History Australia 7.1 (2010): 09.1–09.16.“Regional Shopping Centre.” The Magazine of Good Living: Australian Wines and Food 4.2 (1960): 12–13.Risson, Toni. Aphrodite and the Mixed Grill: Greek Cafés in Twentieth-Century Australia. Ipswich, Qld.: T. Risson, 2007.Ross, Laurie. “Fantasy Worlds: The Depiction of Women and the Mating Game in Men’s Magazines in the 1950s.” Journal of Australian Studies 22.56 (1998): 116–124.Santich, Barbara. Bold Palates: Australia’s Gastronomic Heritage. Kent Town: Wakefield P, 2012.Seabrook, Douglas. “Stocking Your Cellar.” Australian Wines & Foods Quarterly 1.3 (1957): 19–20.Seppelt, John. “Advance Australian Wine.” Australian Wines & Foods Quarterly 1.3 (1957): 3–4.Seppelt, R.L. “Wine Week: 1959.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.10 (1959): 3.Sheridan, Susan, Barbara Baird, Kate Borrett, and Lyndall Ryan. (2002) Who Was That Woman? The Australian Women’s Weekly in the Postwar Years. Sydney: UNSW P, 2002.Supski, Sian. “'We Still Mourn That Book’: Cookbooks, Recipes and Foodmaking Knowledge in 1950s Australia.” Journal of Australian Studies 28 (2005): 85–94.“Sydney Restaurant Challenges World Standards.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.4 (1957/1958): 33.Tingey, Peter. “Wineman Rode a Hobby Horse.” Australian Wines & Food: The Magazine of Good Living 2.9 (1959): 35.“Violinist Loves Bach—and Birds.” The Magazine of Good Living: The Australian Wine & Food 3.12 (1960): 30.Wallace, Donald. Ed. Australian Wines & Food Quarterly. Magazine. Melbourne: 1956–1960.Warner-Smith, Penny. “Travel, Young Women and ‘The Weekly’, 1959–1968.” Annals of Leisure Research 3.1 (2000): 33–46.Webby, Elizabeth. The Cambridge Companion to Australian Literature. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000.White, Richard. “The Importance of Being Man.” Australian Popular Culture. Eds. Peter Spearritt and David Walker. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1979. 145–169.White, Richard. “The Retreat from Adventure: Popular Travel Writing in the 1950s.” Australian Historical Studies 109 (1997): 101–103.“Wine: The Drink for the Home.” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 2.10 (1959): 24–25.“Wines at the Lausanne Trade Fair.” The Magazine of Good Living: Australian Wines and Food 4.2 (1960): 15.“Your Own Wine Cellar” Australian Wines & Food Quarterly 1.2 (1957): 19–20.

In this paper we explore the rise of anti-gambling apps in the context of the massive expansion of gambling in new spheres of life (online and offline) and an acceleration in strategies of anticipatory and individualised management of harm caused by gambling. These apps, and the techniques and forms of labour they demand, are examples of and a mechanism through which a mode of governance premised on ‘self-care’ and ‘self-control’ is articulated and put into practice. To support this argument, we explore two government initiatives in the Australian context. Quit Pokies, a mobile app project between the Moreland City Council, North East Primary Care Partnership and the Victorian Local Governance Association, is an example of an emerging service paradigm of ‘self-care’ that uses online and mobile platforms with geo-location to deliver real time health and support interventions. A similar mobile app, Gambling Terminator, was launched by the NSW government in late 2012. Both apps work on the premise that interrupting a gaming session through a trigger, described by Quit Pokies’ creator as a “tap on the shoulder” provides gamblers the opportunity to take a reflexive stance and cut short their gambling practice in the course of play. We critically examine these apps as self-disciplining techniques of contemporary neo-liberalism directed towards anticipating and reducing the personal harm and social risk associated with gambling. We analyse the material and discursive elements, and new forms of user labour, through which this consumable media is framed and assembled. We argue that understanding the role of these apps, and mobile media more generally, in generating new techniques and technologies of the self, is important for identifying emerging modes of governance and their implications at a time when gambling is going through an immense period of cultural normalisation in online and offline environments. The Australian context is particularly germane for the way gambling permeates everyday spaces of sociality and leisure, and the potential of gambling interventions to interrupt and re-configure these spaces and institute a new kind of subject-state relation. Gambling in Australia Though a global phenomenon, the growth and expansion of gambling manifests distinctly in Australia because of its long cultural and historical attachment to games of chance. Australians are among the biggest betters and losers in the world (Ziolkowski), mainly on Electronic Gaming Machines (EGM) or pokies. As of 2013, according to The World Count of Gaming Machine (Ziolkowski), there were 198,150 EGMs in the country, of which 197,274 were slot machines, with the rest being electronic table games of roulette, blackjack and poker. There are 118 persons per machine in Australia. New South Wales is the jurisdiction with most EGMs (95,799), followed by Queensland (46,680) and Victoria (28,758) (Ziolkowski). Gambling is significant in Australian cultural history and average Australian households spend at least some money on different forms of gambling, from pokies to scratch cards, every year (Worthington et al.). In 1985, long-time gambling researcher Geoffrey Caldwell stated thatAustralians seem to take a pride in the belief that we are a nation of gamblers. Thus we do not appear to be ashamed of our gambling instincts, habits and practices. Gambling is regarded by most Australians as a normal, everyday practice in contrast to the view that gambling is a sinful activity which weakens the moral fibre of the individual and the community. (Caldwell 18) The omnipresence of gambling opportunities in most Australian states has been further facilitated by the availability of online and mobile gambling and gambling-like spaces. Social casino apps, for instance, are widely popular in Australia. The slots social casino app Slotomania was the most downloaded product in the iTunes store in 2012 (Metherell). In response to the high rate of different forms of gambling in Australia, a range of disparate interest groups have identified the expansion of gambling as a concerning trend. Health researchers have pointed out that online gamblers have a higher risk of experiencing problems with gambling (at 30%) compared to 15% in offline bettors (Hastings). The incidence of gambling problems is also disproportionately high in specific vulnerable demographics, including university students (Cervini), young adults prone to substance abuse problems (Hayatbakhsh et al.), migrants (Tanasornnarong et al.; Scull & Woolcock; Ohtsuka & Ohtsuka), pensioners (Hing & Breen), female players (Lee), Aboriginal communities (Young et al.; McMillen & Donnelly) and individuals experiencing homelessness (Holsworth et al.). While there is general recognition of the personal and public health impacts of gambling in Australia, there is a contradiction in the approach to gambling at a governance level. On one hand, its expansion is promoted and even encouraged by the federal and state governments, as gambling is an enormous source of revenue, as evidenced, for example, by the construction of the new Crown casino in Barangaroo in Sydney (Markham & Young). Campaigns trying to limit the use of poker machines, which are associated with concerns over problem gambling and addiction, are deemed by the gambling lobby as un-Australian. Paradoxically, efforts to restrict gambling or control gambling winnings have also been described as un-Australian, such as in the Australian Taxation Office’s campaign against MONA’s founder, David Walsh, whose immense art collection was acquired with the funds from a gambling scheme (Global Mail). On the other hand, people experiencing problems with gambling are often categorised as addicts and the ultimate blame (and responsibility) is attributed to the individual. In Australia, attitudes towards people who are arguably addicted to gambling are different than those towards individuals afflicted by alcohol or drug abuse (Jean). While “Australians tend to be sympathetic towards people with alcohol and other drug addictions who seek help,” unless it is seen as one of the more socially acceptable forms of occasional, controlled gambling (such as sports betting, gambling on the Melbourne Cup or celebrating ANZAC Day with Two-Up), gambling is framed as an individual “problem” and “moral failing” (Jean). The expansion of gambling is the backdrop to another development in health care and public health discourse, which have for some time now been devoted to the ideal of what Lupton has called the “digitally engaged patient” (Lupton). Technologies are central to the delivery of this model of health service provision that puts the patient at the centre of, and responsible for, their own health and medical care. Lupton has pointed out how this discourse, while appearing new, is in fact the latest version of the 1970s emphasis on the ‘patient as consumer’, an idea given an extra injection by the massive development and availability of digital and interactive web-based and mobile platforms, many of these directed towards the provision of health and health-related information and services. What this means for patients is that, rather than relying solely on professional medical expertise and care, the patient is encouraged to take on some of this medical/health work to conduct practices of ‘self-care’ (Lupton). The Discourse of ‘Self-Management’ and ‘Self-Care’ The model of ‘self-care’ and ‘self-management’ by ‘empowering’ digital technology has now become a dominant discourse within health and medicine, and is increasingly deployed across a range of related sectors such as welfare services. In recent research conducted on homelessness and mobile media, for example, government department staff involved in the reform of welfare services referred to ‘self-management’ as the new service paradigm that underpins their digital reform strategy. Echoing ideas and language similar to the “digitally engaged patient”, customers of Centrelink, Medicare and other ‘human services’ are being encouraged (through planned strategic initiatives aimed at shifting targeted customer groups online) to transact with government services digitally and manage their own personal profiles and health information. One departmental staff member described this in terms of an “opportunity cost”, the savings in time otherwise spent standing in long queues in service centres (Humphry). Rather than view these examples as isolated incidents taking place within or across sectors or disciplines, these are better understood as features of an emerging ‘discursive formation’ , a term Foucault used to describe the way in which particular institutions and/or the state establish a regime of truth, or an accepted social reality and which gives definition to a new historical episteme and subject: in this case that of the self-disciplined and “digitally engaged medical/health patient”. As Foucault explained, once this subject has become fully integrated into and across the social field, it is no longer easy to excavate, since it lies below the surface of articulation and is held together through everyday actions, habits and institutional routines and techniques that appear to be universal, necessary and/normal. The way in which this citizen subject becomes a universal model and norm, however, is not a straightforward or linear story and since we are in the midst of its rise, is not a story with a foretold conclusion. Nevertheless, across a range of different fields of governance: medicine; health and welfare, we can see signs of this emerging figure of the self-caring “digitally engaged patient” constituted from a range of different techniques and practices of self-governance. In Australia, this figure is at the centre of a concerted strategy of service digitisation involving a number of cross sector initiatives such as Australia’s National EHealth Strategy (2008), the National Digital Economy Strategy (2011) and the Australian Public Service Mobile Roadmap (2013). This figure of the self-caring “digitally engaged” patient, aligns well and is entirely compatible with neo-liberal formulations of the individual and the reduced role of the state as a provider of welfare and care. Berry refers to Foucault’s definition of neoliberalism as outlined in his lectures to the College de France as a “particular form of post-welfare state politics in which the state essentially outsources the responsibility of the ‘well-being' of the population” (65). In the case of gambling, the neoliberal defined state enables the wedding of two seemingly contradictory stances: promoting gambling as a major source of revenue and capitalisation on the one hand, and identifying and treating gambling addiction as an individual pursuit and potential risk on the other. Risk avoidance strategies are focused on particular groups of people who are targeted for self-treatment to avoid the harm of gambling addiction, which is similarly framed as individual rather than socially and systematically produced. What unites and makes possible this alignment of neoliberalism and the new “digitally engaged subject/patient” is first and foremost, the construction of a subject in a chronic state of ill health. This figure is positioned as terminal from the start. They are ‘sick’, a ‘patient’, an ‘addict’: in need of immediate and continuous treatment. Secondly, this neoliberal patient/addict is enabled (we could even go so far as to say ‘empowered’) by digital technology, especially smartphones and the apps available through these devices in the form of a myriad of applications for intervening and treating ones afflictions. These apps range fromself-tracking programs such as mood regulators through to social media interventions. Anti-Pokie Apps and the Neoliberal Gambler We now turn to two examples which illustrate this alignment between neoliberalism and the new “digitally engaged subject/patient” in relation to gambling. Anti-gambling apps function to both replace or ‘take the place’ of institutions and individuals actively involved in the treatment of problem gambling and re-engineer this service through the logics of ‘self-care’ and ‘self-management’. Here, we depart somewhat from Foucault’s model of disciplinary power summed up in the institution (with the prison exemplifying this disciplinary logic) and move towards Deleuze’s understanding of power as exerted by the State not through enclosures but through diffuse and rhizomatic information flows and technologies (Deleuze). At the same time, we retain Foucault’s attention to the role and agency of the user in this power-dynamic, identifiable in the technics of self-regulation and in his ideas on governmentality. We now turn to analyse these apps more closely, and explore the way in which these articulate and perform these disciplinary logics. The app Quit Pokies was a joint venture of the North East Primary Care Partnership, the Victorian Local Governance Association and the Moreland City Council, launched in early 2014. The idea of the rational, self-reflexive and agentic user is evident in the description of the app by app developer Susan Rennie who described it this way: What they need is for someone to tap them on the shoulder and tell them to get out of there… I thought the phone could be that tap on the shoulder. The “tap on the shoulder” feature uses geolocation and works by emitting a sound alert when the user enters a gaming venue. It also provides information about each user’s losses at that venue. This “tap on the shoulder” is both an alert and a reprimand from past gambling sessions. Through the Responsible Gambling Fund, the NSW government also launched an anti-pokie app in 2013, Gambling Terminator, including a similar feature. The app runs on Apple and Android smartphone platforms, and when a person is inside a gambling venue in New South Wales it: sends reminder messages that interrupt gaming-machine play and gives you a chance to re-think your choices. It also provides instant access to live phone and online counselling services which operate 24 hours a day, seven days a week. (Google Play Store) Yet an approach that tries to prevent harm by anticipating the harm that will come from gambling at the point of entering a venue, also eliminates the chance of potential negotiations and encounters a user might have during a visit to the pub and how this experience will unfold. It reduces the “tap on the shoulder”, which may involve a far wider set of interactions and affects, to a software operation and it frames the pub or the club (which under some conditions functions as hubs for socialization and community building) as dangerous places that should be avoided. This has the potential to lead to further stigmatisation of gamblers, their isolation and their exclusion from everyday spaces. Moreland Mayor, Councillor Tapinos captures the implicit framing of self-care as a private act in his explanation of the app as a method for problem gamblers to avoid being stigmatised by, for example, publicly attending group meetings. Yet, curiously, the app has the potential to create a new kind of public stigmatisation through potentially drawing other peoples’ attention to users’ gambling play (as the alarm is triggered) generating embarrassment and humiliation at being “caught out” in an act framed as aberrant and literally, “alarming”. Both Quit Pokies and Gambling Terminator require their users to perform ‘acts’ of physical and affective labour aimed at behaviour change and developing the skills of self-control. After downloading Quit Pokies on the iPhone and launching the app, the user is presented an initial request: “Before you set up this app. please write a list of the pokies venues that you regularly use because the app will ask you to identify these venues so it can send you alerts if you spend time in these locations. It will also use your set up location to identify other venues you might use so we recommend that you set up the App in the location where you spend most time. Congratulation on choosing Quit Pokies.”Self-performed processes include installation, setting up, updating the app software, programming in gambling venues to be detected by the smartphone’s inbuilt GPS, monitoring and responding to the program’s alerts and engaging in alternate “legitimate” forms of leisure such as going to the movies or the library, having coffee with a friend or browsing Facebook. These self-performed labours can be understood as ‘technologies of the self’, a term used by Foucault to describe the way in which social members are obliged to regulate and police their ‘selves’ through a range of different techniques. While Foucault traces the origins of ‘technologies of the self’ to the Greco-Roman texts with their emphasis on “care of oneself” as one of the duties of citizenry, he notes the shift to “self-knowledge” under Christianity around the 8th century, where it became bound up in ideals of self-renunciation and truth. Quit Pokies and Gambling Terminator may signal a recuperation of the ideal of self-care, over confession and disclosure. These apps institute a set of bodily activities and obligations directed to the user’s health and wellbeing, aided through activities of self-examination such as charting your recovery through a Recovery Diary and implementing a number of suggested “Strategies for Change” such as “writing a list” and “learning about ways to manage your money better”. Writing is central to the acts of self-examination. As Jeremy Prangnell, gambling counsellor from Mission Australia for Wollongong and Shellharbour regions explained the app is “like an electronic diary, which is a really common tool for people who are trying to change their behaviour” (Thompson). The labours required by users are also implicated in the functionality and performance of the platform itself suggesting the way in which ‘technologies of the self’ simultaneously function as a form of platform work: user labour that supports and sustains the operation of digital systems and is central to the performance and continuation of digital capitalism in general (Humphry, Demanding Media). In addition to the acts of labour performed on the self and platform, bodies are themselves potentially mobilised (and put into new circuits of consumption and production), as a result of triggers to nudge users away from gambling venues, towards a range of other cultural practices in alternative social spaces considered to be more legitimate.Conclusion Whether or not these technological interventions are effective or successful is yet to be tested. Indeed, the lack of recent activity in the community forums and preponderance of issues reported on installation and use suggests otherwise, pointing to a need for more empirical research into these developments. Regardless, what we’ve tried to identify is the way in which apps such as these embody a new kind of subject-state relation that emphasises self-control of gambling harm and hastens the divestment of institutional and social responsibility at a time when gambling is going through an immense period of expansion in many respects backed by and sanctioned by the state. Patterns of smartphone take up in the mainstream population and the rise of the so called ‘mobile only population’ (ACMA) provide support for this new subject and service paradigm and are often cited as the rationale for digital service reform (APSMR). Media convergence feeds into these dynamics: service delivery becomes the new frontier for the merging of previously separate media distribution systems (Dwyer). Letters, customer service centres, face-to-face meetings and web sites, are combined and in some instances replaced, with online and mobile media platforms, accessible from multiple and mobile devices. These changes are not, however, simply the migration of services to a digital medium with little effective change to the service itself. Health and medical services are re-invented through their technological re-assemblage, bringing into play new meanings, practices and negotiations among the state, industry and neoliberal subjects (in the case of problem gambling apps, a new subjectivity, the ‘neoliberal addict’). These new assemblages are as much about bringing forth a new kind of subject and mode of governance, as they are a solution to problem gambling. This figure of the self-treating “gambler addict” can be seen to be a template for, and prototype of, a more generalised and universalised self-governing citizen: one that no longer needs or makes demands on the state but who can help themselves and manage their own harm. Paradoxically, there is the potential for new risks and harms to the very same users that accompanies this shift: their outright exclusion as a result of deprivation from basic and assumed digital access and literacy, the further stigmatisation of gamblers, the elimination of opportunities for proximal support and their exclusion from everyday spaces. References Albarrán-Torres, César. “Gambling-Machines and the Automation of Desire.” Platform: Journal of Media and Communication 5.1 (2013). Australian Communications and Media Authority. “Australians Cut the Cord.” Research Snapshots. Sydney: ACMA (2013) Berry, David. Critical Theory and the Digital. Broadway, New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2014 Berry, David. Stunlaw: A Critical Review of Politics, Arts and Technology. 2012. ‹http://stunlaw.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/code-foucault-and-neoliberal.html›. Caldwell, G. “Some Historical and Sociological Characteristics of Australian Gambling.” Gambling in Australia. Eds. G. Caldwell, B. Haig, M. Dickerson, and L. Sylan. Sydney: Croom Helm Australia, 1985. 18-27. Cervini, E. “High Stakes for Gambling Students.” The Age 8 Nov. 2013. ‹http://www.theage.com.au/national/education/high-stakes-for-gambling-students-20131108-2x5cl.html›. Deleuze, Gilles. "Postscript on the Societies of Control." October (1992): 3-7. Foucault, Michel. “Technologies of the Self.” Eds. Luther H. Martin, Huck Gutman and Patrick H. Hutton. Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988 Hastings, E. “Online Gamblers More at Risk of Addiction.” Herald Sun 13 Oct. 2013. ‹http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/online-gamblers-more-at-risk-of-addiction/story-fni0fiyv-1226739184629#!›.Hayatbakhsh, Mohammad R., et al. "Young Adults' Gambling and Its Association with Mental Health and Substance Use Problems." Australian and New Zealand Journal of Public Health 36.2 (2012): 160-166. Hing, Nerilee, and Helen Breen. "A Profile of Gaming Machine Players in Clubs in Sydney, Australia." Journal of Gambling Studies 18.2 (2002): 185-205. Holdsworth, Louise, Margaret Tiyce, and Nerilee Hing. "Exploring the Relationship between Problem Gambling and Homelessness: Becoming and Being Homeless." Gambling Research 23.2 (2012): 39. Humphry, Justine. “Demanding Media: Platform Work and the Shaping of Work and Play.” Scan: Journal of Media Arts Culture, 10.2 (2013): 1-13. Humphry, Justine. “Homeless and Connected: Mobile Phones and the Internet in the Lives of Homeless Australians.” Australian Communications Consumer Action Network. Sep. 2014. ‹https://www.accan.org.au/grants/completed-grants/619-homeless-and-connected›.Lee, Timothy Jeonglyeol. "Distinctive Features of the Australian Gambling Industry and Problems Faced by Australian Women Gamblers." Tourism Analysis 14.6 (2009): 867-876. Lupton, D. “The Digitally Engaged Patient: Self-Monitoring and Self-Care in the Digital Health Era.” Social Theory & Health 11.3 (2013): 256-70. Markham, Francis, and Martin Young. “Packer’s Barangaroo Casino and the Inevitability of Pokies.” The Conversation 9 July 2013. ‹http://theconversation.com/packers-barangaroo-casino-and-the-inevitability-of-pokies-15892›. Markham, Francis, and Martin Young. “Who Wins from ‘Big Gambling’ in Australia?” The Conversation 6 Mar. 2014. ‹http://theconversation.com/who-wins-from-big-gambling-in-australia-22930›.McMillen, Jan, and Katie Donnelly. "Gambling in Australian Indigenous Communities: The State of Play." The Australian Journal of Social Issues 43.3 (2008): 397. Ohtsuka, Keis, and Thai Ohtsuka. “Vietnamese Australian Gamblers’ Views on Luck and Winning: Universal versus Culture-Specific Schemas.” Asian Journal of Gambling Issues and Public Health 1.1 (2010): 34-46. Scull, Sue, Geoffrey Woolcock. “Problem Gambling in Non-English Speaking Background Communities in Queensland, Australia: A Qualitative Exploration.” International Gambling Studies 5.1 (2005): 29-44. Tanasornnarong, Nattaporn, Alun Jackson, and Shane Thomas. “Gambling among Young Thai People in Melbourne, Australia: An Exploratory Study.” International Gambling Studies 4.2 (2004): 189-203. Thompson, Angela, “Live Gambling Odds Tipped for the Chop.” Illawarra Mercury 22 May 2013: 6. Metherell, Mark. “Virtual Pokie App a Hit - But ‘Not Gambling.’” Sydney Morning Herald 13 Jan. 2013. ‹http://www.smh.com.au/digital-life/smartphone-apps/virtual-pokie-app-a-hit--but-not-gambling-20130112-2cmev.html#ixzz2QVlsCJs1›. Worthington, Andrew, et al. "Gambling Participation in Australia: Findings from the National Household Expenditure Survey." Review of Economics of the Household 5.2 (2007): 209-221. Young, Martin, et al. "The Changing Landscape of Indigenous Gambling in Northern Australia: Current Knowledge and Future Directions." International Gambling Studies 7.3 (2007): 327-343. Ziolkowski, S. “The World Count of Gaming Machines 2013.” Gaming Technologies Association, 2014. ‹http://www.gamingta.com/pdf/World_Count_2014.pdf›.