Journal articles on the topic 'Pottery, dutch – chinese influences'

Art and the craft of pottery have always held a significant place in addressing human needs. Throughout different eras and societies, we have witnessed the growth, development, and significant influences of pottery on the richness and prosperity of culture and the general economy. This art and craft have endured and evolved over time. The continuation and evolution of blue and white pottery during the Safavid period highlight the importance of this pottery style. The transformative developments and support from the Safavid kings, especially Shah Abbas, led to the exquisite production of blue and white pottery during this period. In reality, the distinctive characteristics and quality in the creation of this type of pottery, along with the high demand in global markets, contributed to its mass production. The aim of this study is to elucidate the method of creating blue and white pottery during the Safavid period, introduce the influential factors in enhancing this type of pottery, and recognize its specific features. The research methodology employed in this study is descriptive-analytical, and the data collection method is primarily documentary (library-based). The examination and analysis of blue and white pottery demonstrate that Iranian potters during the Safavid period, drawing upon their experiences in creating pottery from the previous Timurid era, imitated and combined these techniques with Ming Chinese examples and familiarized themselves with Ottoman pottery specimens. This resulted in a new style of blue and white pottery with distinct Iranian characteristics. The colors of this pottery typically feature a white body with blue patterns. Decorative motifs were tailored to the vessel's form, where primary designs such as animals, human figures, and plant patterns adorned the center of the vessel, while abstract patterns, calligraphy, and natural elements embellished the vessel's margins. These vessels were primarily utilized for storing liquids, serving food, and as decorative ceramics.

The invention of European hard porcelain, which aims at imitating kaolin-containing white paste of Chinese porcelain, had been started by the development of the technology of “red porcelain”, so-called “Jaspisporzellan” by Johann Friedrich Böttger in the early-eighteenth century at Meissen (Saxony). The visual features of the earlier Böttger red stoneware were rather similar to the one produced in Yixing, China. The prominence of Böttger productions allowed the manufacturing to be expanded across Europe to different countries (Holland, England, France, etc.). In this study, the chemical characteristics of nine European unglazed objects produced in England, France, Russia, and Holland from the 17th to 19th century and 10 Chinese (unglazed or enameled) red stoneware have been studied by using an on-site characterization technique pXRF. The results were compared with the previous studies carried out on 25 unglazed, polished, and non-polished Böttger artefacts. This non-invasive, speedy technique allows a methodology to be created for distinguishing the technological differences related to the provenance and authenticity of the artefacts. The elemental measurements explicitly show the significant discrepancy of Dutch objects from the main group, which involves other European and Chinese ones. Both a Lambertus van Eenhoorn (Delft) statue and an Ary de Milde (Delft) teapot are distinguishable from other European red stoneware by the high content of iron and calcium and high content of titanium and potassium, respectively, found in their body compositions. An overall comparison was made between the measurements made at different times in order to evaluate the error range arising from the measurement procedure (e.g., energy resolution of other series of the same instrument model).

Lasem was called “La Petit Chinois” or “Small China” because there were Chinese community settlements consisting of old Chinese-style houses. Lasem was a large port city since the time of the Majapahit Kingdom until the Dutch colonialism encouraged cultural acculturation. Lasem batik is one of the results of acculturation of Javanese and Chinese culture and has been a noble outfit since King Lasem I ruled (1350-1375). Cultural acculturation forms a distinctive cultural identity that is an important part of coastal culture. Therefore the uniqueness of cultural acculturation in Lasem is interesting to study. The purpose of this study was to obtain an overview of Chinese residential architecture in Lasem Chinatown and Chinese culture in Lasem, so as to enrich local theories about the meaning behind the architecture of Chinese houses in Lasem. This research method uses the rationalistic paradigm with a qualitative approach. Cultural acculturation influences local architecture through variety, pattern of space, and order, so that the result of mixing culture will form a new image of local society (Fauzy, 2012). The culture acculturation has influenced the spatial layout and details of the residential houses of the Chinese community so as to produce a unique form of architecture.

With the expansion of Western power from the seventeenth century onward, many Asian countries were confronted with difficult political and economic problems in their relations with Europe. In several countries in Asia, in order to suppress Western cultural influences within their own nations, governments often employed foreigners as interpreters for their own diplomacy and trade with Europeans, with some governments even prohibiting their people from learning foreign languages.But, in the case of Japan, interpreters played a crucial role in both the study of the Dutch language and the integration of Western knowledge during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It seems that early-modern Japanese interpreters were quite different from the interpreters of Western languages in other countries in Asia, as in Nagasaki interpreters of the Dutch language were shogunate-appointed Japanese nationals.Here I will examine and compare several aspects of the Chinese pidgin-English interpreters at Canton and the Japanese Dutch-language interpreters at Nagasaki, in particular their origins, incomes, duties, learning, and businesses. Through this examination I will demonstrate how the so-called Westernisation processes adopted in China and Japan were actually reflected in and represented by the different models of foreign trade at the ports of Canton and Nagasaki.

Abstract This article combines methodological approaches from global history and food history to demonstrate the multi-direction interactions between mobile people, plants and material culture and the creation of a new global food culture in Batavia, the headquarters of the Dutch East India Company. It reconstructs the global world of Batavia in the eighteenth century and shows how the horticultural, cooking and eating practices of its inhabitants revealed the port city’s connections with distant shores. Batavia was populated by a minority of Europeans, together with more numerous Chinese migrants from Fujian and enslaved people from across the Malay-Indonesian archipelago and the Coromandel, Malabar and Bengal regions of India. Food producers and consumers, traders, and enslaved cooks and cultivators from all these places contributed a diversity of culinary influences that were re-assembled into cooking and eating practices, many of which had never before existed in the same culinary context. While the article uses sources produced by Dutch-speaking colonists, it reads them against the grain in order to reconstruct this diversity of actors, spotlighting the role of enslaved cooks as mobile circulators of knowledge.

Semarang is one of the Dutch colonialisem and capitalist center from the 19th century to 19th the mid-20th centuries. This economic environment created a financial gap between the indigenous people and the foreign ones. Hence, crime emerged as a result of the hole. This study analyzes the criminal pattern that occurred in Semarang from the colonial period to the post-independence revolution—collecting and analyzing data using the historical method by four stages, namely heuristic, critics, interpretation, and historiography. The sources were from contemporary newspapers. The results show that there is a different criminal pattern from the colonial era to post-independence. Crime in the colonial period was individual-based. The crime scenes were on roads and markets, and the targets were the rich people regardless of ethnicity and nationality. On the other hand, criminal patterns in the post-independence era carried out in groups by robbing the houses owned by foreign people, such as Europeans or Chinese. Thus, the study concludes that the situation during the period influences the criminal pattern. The economy is the factor that triggered the crime during the colonial era. However, the anti-foreign movement caused crime activities during the post-independence period.

The beginning of Indonesian Cinema has elicited debates ever since politics named the first day of Usmar Ismail’s Darah dan Doa (The Long March) shooting (30th of March 1950) as the official “birthdate” of its movie industry. There have been films before. Dozens of them. They might have been Dutch or Chinese productions, but all of them contributed to Indonesia’s unique cinema history especially in the action genre. Action movies are closely related to Indonesian cinema history since the first ever long feature Loeteong Kasaroeng (Enchanted Monkey) produced in 1926 was an action-orientated fantasy spectacle. It was followed by many martial arts movies during the late 1920s and 1930s and every drama had at least one fighting sequence to entertain the audience. This paper will take a closer look at the different foreign influences in the Indonesian cinema of the 1920s-1940s and which contributed to one of the most popular genres in the contemporary Indonesian film industry. A list of filmography is attached to complement this article.

Purpose The acceleration of globalization is causing global trade transactions to become increasingly frequent, which leads to the internationalized design of consumer products. However, due to cultural differences, the user experience in different parts of the world with the same product may be different. In addition, the user experience is not static, but changes over the different usage stages for a product since the role of our senses may vary and different emotions may be elicited. Therefore, the purpose of this paper is to explore how the interaction between the user and the product influences cross-cultural sensory modalities and emotional responses to products. Design/methodology/approach Due to the fact that drinking tea can provide dynamic feedback of users’ sensory experiences including all five senses, two kinds of tea products from two considerably different cultures (China and the Netherlands) were chosen for the study. The experiment was conducted in five stages corresponding to different levels of interaction with two tea products. Measurements for both Chinese and Dutch participants were conducted by means of collecting subjective data for sensory modalities and emotions related to product experiences throughout the five stages. Findings Results showed that tea experience tends to be dynamic between the two different countries over different usage periods, including sensory modalities and the emotional responses. Practical implications The findings and design & market implications can be applied to optimize the design or market of international tea products or consumer products in other categories. They will be helpful for the international marketing of tea, especially for those who are interested in breaking into the Chinese tea market and those who are interested in promoting Chinese tea in new markets. In addition, the authors’ methods to evaluate the dynamics of the importance of sensory modalities and emotions could be used to test the user experience in the product lifecycle to help develop a successful international product. Originality/value The findings and the linked design implications could be important not only for a theoretical understanding of cross-cultural sensory and emotional feedback from a product experience, but also for the optimization of product design for the international market.

Speech production studies have shown that phonological unit initially used to fill the metrical frame during phonological encoding is language specific, that is, a phoneme for English and Dutch, an atonal syllable for Mandarin Chinese, and a mora for Japanese. However, only a few studies chronometrically investigated speech production in Korean, and they obtained mixed results. Korean is particularly interesting as there might be both phonemic and syllabic influences during phonological encoding. The purpose of this study is to further examine the initial phonological preparation unit in Korean, employing a masked priming task (Experiment 1) and a phonological Stroop task (Experiment 2). The results showed that significant onset (and onset-plus, that is, consonant–vowel [CV]) effects were found in both experiments, but there was no compelling evidence for a prominent role for the syllable. When the prime words were presented in three different forms related to the targets, namely, without any change, with re-syllabified codas, and with nasalised codas, there were no significant differences in facilitation among the three forms. Alternatively, it is also possible that participants may not have had sufficient time to process the primes up to the point that re-syllabification or nasalisation could have been carried out. In addition, the results of a Stroop task demonstrated that the onset phoneme effect was not driven by any orthographic influence. These findings suggest that the onset segment and not the syllable is the initial (or proximate) phonological unit used in the segment-to-frame encoding process during speech planning in Korean.

Language mapping is a new perspective in a linguistic landscape as a novelty of this research. This research described the variation and domination of language use on coffee shop signboards through language mapping and analyzed how the geographical situation and conditions can affect the use of that language. There were 60 coffee shop signboards in the West Sumatra Subdistrict, which is divided into three regions: the city center, taplau, and pondok cino (China town), which became the data population of this research. Several data were selected using random sampling to analyze the reason for language use based on geographical conditions or situations. The research uses qualitative methods to collect data and analyze results using GIS (Geographic Information Systems) and Adobe Photoshop. Using the two software as instruments is an innovation in the method of the linguistic landscape (LL). The analysis began with quantifying language usage, including monolingual, bilingual, and multilingual forms on coffee shop signboards. Subsequently, language mapping was conducted to illustrate language variation and highlight linguistic dominance in specific areas. Finally, the study delved into the rationale behind language selection, considering geographical conditions and situational context evident in the language mapping. Findings revealed the presence of 12 languages on coffee shop signage, including Indonesian, Minangkabau, Javanese, English, Arabic, Dutch, Italian, Japanese, Korean, French, Spanish and Chinese. The use of foreign languages was attributed to global influences and societal preferences for modernization and prestige. Moreover, the research underscored the influence of geographical conditions and situational context on linguistic landscapes, impacting shop naming, cultural identity, and commercial objectives within a region.

This paper reports on a study into the inter-relationships amongst foreign language pronunciation, mimicry ability and a range of personality and attitudinal factors. It will begin with a brief review of studies into affective influences on pronunciation ability (Arnold 1999, Hu & Reiterer 2009) and research into the importance of mimicry talent (Jilka 2009; Piske, MacKay & Flege 2001). This will be followed by a short description of a pilot study carried out prior to the main experiment. In the main study, a group of Polish learners of English completed a number of mimicry tasks in three languages: Italian, Dutch and Chinese, as well as a narration task in English. Mimicry performance and English pronunciation were then assessed by native speakers and compared. Participants also completed a questionnaire concerning their feelings about the languages they were to mimic and a second questionnaire designed to detect affective factors such as language learning anxiety, as well as attitudes towards the pronunciation of Polish and English. The pilot study suggested that the perceived attractiveness of the foreign language to be mimicked did not affect the performance of most participants, and that mimicry skill was fairly constant across languages. However, those who were particularly concerned about their personal appearance showed greater fluctuation in their ability to mimic and their performance appeared to be influenced by their attitude towards the language. This is referred to by the author as the Cecily effect. That study also confirmed the results of my previous experimental work showing that mimicry skill is correlated to some degree with English language pronunciation and that both pronunciation and mimicry are negatively affected by high levels of anxiety. The main study sets out to investigate whether or not these conclusions hold true for a larger sample population and also seeks to determine the effect of confidence and willingness to take risks on scores for both foreign language pronunciation and mimicry exercises.

The city of Indramayu is in the province of West Java which was influenced by Dutch and Chinese culture which left historical buildings. Several previous studies that have been carried out in Indramayu City put more emphasis on historical buildings as the main objects and architectural objects that are considered important by researchers. This study aims to map buildings with Chinese cultural influences in the Chinatown of Indramayu City and identify current historical conditions to clarify which Chinese cultural influences are. This research method is a qualitative description with an analysis of the cultural studies approach. Observation, interviews and documentation are data collection techniques in this study. The results of this study found a typology of mapping of historic buildings in the Chinatown area of Indramayu which can be described and searched for common threads. From the results of the data collection, it can be seen that the elements of Chinese architecture that can be recognized from these buildings are very thick, so that they are clearly part of the historical evidence of the development of Indramayu City as an important city in sea trade. This research is expected to be the basis for producing a document that is used as a guide for further researchers. Keywords: analysis, historic buildings, indramayu, tionghoa. Abstrak Kota Indramayu berada di propinsi Jawa Barat yang terpengaruh oleh budaya Belanda dan Tionghoa yang meninggalkan bangunan-bangunan bersejarah. Beberapa penelitian terdahulu telah dilakukan di Kota Indramayu ini lebih menekankan pada bangunan bersejarah sebagai objek utama dan objek arsitektur yang dianggap penting oleh peneliti. Penelitian ini bertujuan melakukan pemetaan bangunan dengan pengaruh budaya Tionghoa di Pecinan Kota Indramayu dan mengidentifikasi kondisi bersejarah saat ini untuk mengklarifikasi pengaruh budaya Tionghoa mana saja. Metode penelitian ini adalah deskripsi kualitatif dengan analisa pendekatan kajian budaya. Observasi, wawancara dan pendokumentasian merupakan Teknik pengumpulan data pada penelitian ini. Hasil penelitian ini ditemukan tipologi pemetaan bangunan bersejarah di Kawasan pecinan Indramayu yang dapat diuraikan dan dicari benang merahnya. Dari hasil pendataan dapat dilihat bahwa elemen-elemen arsitektur Tionghoa yang dapat dikenali dari bangunan-bangunan tersebut sangat kental, sehingga secara jelas menjadi bagian dari bukti sejarah perkembangan Kota Indramayu adalah kota yang penting di dalam perdagangan laut. Penelitian ini diharapkan menjadi dasar untuk menghasilkan suatu dokumen yang dijadikan panduan untuk peneliti-peneliti selanjutnya. Kata Kunci: analisa, bangunan bersejarah, indramayu, tionghoa. Authors: Yudita Royandi : Universitas Kristen MaranathaIrena Vanessa Gunawan : Universitas Kristen MaranathaErwin Ardianto Halim : Universitas Kristen MaranathaReferences:Anonim. (2010). Undang-Undang Nomor 11 Tahun 2010 Tentang Cagar Budaya. Jakarta: Kemendikbud.Bennet, Tony. (1998). Culture: A Reformer’s Science. London: SAGE Publications.Chin, J. (1987). David G. Kohl, Chinese Architecture in the Straits Settlements and Western Malaya: Temples, Kongsis and Houses. Archipel, 33(1), 185-185.Cortesao, Armando (peny.). (2015). Suma Oriental Karya Tome Pires: Perjalanan dari Laut Merah Ke Cina Dan Buku Fransisco Rodrigues. Terjemahan Adrian Perkasa dan Anggita Pramesti. Yogyakarta: Ombak.Czarniawska, B. (2004). Narratives in Social Science Research. Thousand Oaks. CA: SAGE Publications.Dasuki, H. A. (1977). Sejarah Indramayu. Indramayu: Pemerintah Kabupaten Derah Tingkat II Indramayu.Giedion, S. (1967). Space, Time and Architecture. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.Hartawan, T., & Ruwaidah, E. (2018). Pemetaan dan Identifikasi Bangunan Bersejarah di Kota Tua Ampenan Mataram Nusa Tenggara Barat. Sangkareang Mataram, 4(1), 41–46.Kasim, Supali. (2011). Menapak Jejak Sejarah Indramayu. Yogyakarta: Frame Publishing.Koentjaraningrat. (2007). Manusia dan Kebudayaan Di Indonesia. Jakarta: Djambatan.Lozar, C., & Rapoport, A. (1970). House Form and Culture. Journal of Aesthetic Education. https://doi.org/10.2307/3331293Middleton, E. L. (2019). No 主観的健康感を中心とした在宅高齢者における 健康関連指標に関する共分散構造分析Title.Miles, Matthew B; Huberman, A. Michael. (1994). Qualitative Data Analysis. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications.Nurlelasari, D. (2017). Mencari Jejak Wiralodra Di Indramayu. Buletin Al-Turas, 23(1), 1-19.Shirvani, Hamid. (1985). The Urban Design Process. New York: Van Nostrand.Syam, Nur. (2005). Islam Pesisir. Yogyakarta: Lkis Pelangi Aksara.Tonapa, Y. N., Rondonuwu, D. M., & Tungka, A. E. (2015). Kajian Konservasi Bangunan Kuno dan Kawasan Bersejarah di Pusat Kota Lama Manado. Spasial, 2(3), 121-130.Trancik, Roger. (1986). Finding Lost Space: Theories of Urban Design. New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold Company.Tungka, Aristotulus. (2015). Materi Perkuliahan Teknik Konservasi dan Preservasi. Manado: Program Studi Perencanaan Wilayah dan Kota Universitas Sam Ratulangi.Widayati, N. (2004). Telaah Arsitektur Berlanggam China Di Jalan Pejagalan Raya Nomor 62 Jakarta Barat. DIMENSI (Journal of Architecture and Built Environment), 32(1).

Abstract Abstract 2852 Background: The 18-item Myeloproliferative Neoplasm Symptom Assessment Form (MPN-SAF, Scherber et al Blood 2011) given in conjunction with the 9-item Brief Fatigue Inventory (BFI, Mendoza et al Cancer 1999) is a patient-completed questionnaire for assessing symptoms in persons with MPNs. The MPN-SAF has been translated and validated in 9 languages to date. The Total Symptom Score (TSS) is computed from 10 of the most pertinent MPN-SAF items to assess symptom burden in MPN patients and to evaluate response to therapy. Psychometric properties of the TSS have been previously reported (Emanuel et al Blood 2012). The purpose of this analysis is to compare MPN-SAF symptoms and psychometric properties of the TSS across 9 languages in an international sample. Methods: Data were collected in an international cohort of subjects with MPNs. Surveyed symptoms included fatigue, early satiety, abdominal pain and discomfort, inactivity, headaches, concentration, dizziness, extremity tingling, insomnia, sexual problems, mood changes, cough, night sweats, pruritus, bone pain and fever on a 0 (absent) to 10 (worst imaginable) scale. TSS was computed using the published scoring algorithm on a 0 (all symptoms absent) to 100 (all symptoms worst imaginable) scale. Demographic and disease-related data including disease type, gender, and age had to be present to be included in analysis. Demographics were compared across languages groups using ANOVA and chi-squared tests. Symptoms and TSS were compared across language groups using a general linear model adjusting for disease type, age, and gender with post-hoc Tukey pairwise comparisons. Internal consistency and factor structure of the TSS were investigated overall and within language groups using Cronbach's alpha and principal-axis factoring analysis. Results: Subject Demographics and Disease Type: 1,851 subjects with polycythemia vera (PV N=655), essential thrombocythemia (ET N=769) and myelofibrosis (MF N=427; 286 primary MF, 61 PV-MF, 80 ET-MF) were prospectively enrolled and administered the MPN-SAF and BFI in 1 of 9 languages: English [UK] 55, English [US] 102, Italian 186, Swedish 114, German 112, French 457, Spanish 192, Dutch 236, and Chinese 397. Age (median 61, range, 15–94) and gender (55% F) were typical. Disease type and age varied across language groups (both p <0.001). MPN-SAF Symptoms and TSS: Symptom frequencies ranged from 19% (fever) to 88% (fatigue) overall with mean severities ranging from 0.4 (SD=1.3, fever) to 4.3 (SD=2.3, fatigue). Fatigue had the highest mean severity among all symptoms within each language group. Overall, mean TSS was 21.5 (SD=16.7) with the Swedish (mean=18.1, SD=15.2) and Dutch (mean=27.6, SD=17.1) cohorts reporting the lowest and highest unadjusted TSS means, respectively. When comparing symptom items across languages (adjusting for disease type, age, and gender), concentration and sexual problems had the most statistically significant pairwise differences (11 and 10, respectively, out of a possible 36) followed by dizziness and overall quality of life (9 each, out of a possible 36). No statistically significant pairwise differences were observed for abdominal discomfort, headache, extremity tingling, or insomnia. For the TSS, the Dutch cohort appeared to statistically significantly differ (all p <0.05) with all other languages except the English cohorts. All other TSS pairwise comparisons were not statistically significant. TSS Internal Consistency and Factor Structure: The TSS had excellent internal consistency overall (Cronbach's alpha 0.83) as well as within language groups (Cronbach's alpha 0.81–0.86). Overall factor analysis identified a single underlying construct among the 10 TSS items. Factor loadings ranged from 0.41 for fever to 0.73 for inactivity. A single factor solution was appropriate for each language group with factor loadings ranging from 0.18 to 0.85. Conclusion: This analysis suggests that the available translations of the MPN-SAF are generally acceptable for use in a broad context. The TSS demonstrated acceptable internal consistency and similar factor structure across all language groups. Most symptom and TSS comparisons between languages were not statistically significant, but for the few which differed, further studies are needed to evaluate whether these variances are due to disease-related factors or due to linguistic or cultural influences present in the cohorts. Disclosures: Kiladjian: Novartis: Honoraria, Research Funding; Celgene: Research Funding; Shire: Honoraria. Griesshammer:Shire: Honoraria. Roy:Novartis, BMS: Speakers Bureau. Harrison:Novartis: Honoraria, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau; YM Bioscience: Consultancy, Honoraria; Sanofi Aventis: Honoraria; Shire: Honoraria, Research Funding. Passamonti:Novartis: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Celgene: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Sanofi: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees. Mesa:Incyte: Research Funding; Lilly: Research Funding; Sanofi: Research Funding; NS Pharma: Research Funding; YM Bioscience: Research Funding.

AbstractInterethnic prejudice in children has been studied mostly among White and Black populations in the United States, but less among East Asian populations and Europe. Given that interethnic prejudice is sensitive to populations and contexts, research on previously neglected groups is needed. In the current study, interethnic prejudice is examined among Chinese‐Dutch children aged 7–11 years (N = 80, 42 girls and 38 boys), focusing on their preference for and rejection of East Asian, White, Southwest Asian and North African, and Black peers. In addition, interethnic prejudice is examined in relation to the COVID‐19 pandemic, a global crisis that has led to anti‐Asian racism. The results revealed that Chinese‐Dutch children evaluated their ethnic ingroup and the White outgroup most positively, and the Black outgroup least positively. Moreover, stronger ingroup affinity (in terms of lower ingroup rejection) among Chinese‐Dutch children was found during than before the COVID‐19 pandemic, highlighting the importance of situational influences on children's interethnic prejudice.

There is a growing consensus that culture influences the perception of facial expressions of emotion. However, relatively few studies have examined whether and how culture shapes the production of emotional facial expressions. Drawing on prior work on cultural differences in communication styles, we tested the prediction that people from the Netherlands (a low-context culture) produce facial expressions that are more distinct across emotions compared to people from China (a high-context culture). Furthermore, we examined whether the degree of distinctiveness varies across posed and spontaneous expressions. Dutch and Chinese participants were instructed to either pose facial expressions of anger and disgust, or to share autobiographical events that elicited spontaneous expressions of anger or disgust. Using a supervised machine learning approach to categorize expressions based on the patterns of activated facial action units, we showed that both posed and spontaneous facial expressions of anger and disgust were more distinct when produced by Dutch compared to Chinese participants. Yet, the distinctiveness of posed and spontaneous expressions differed in their sources. The difference in the distinctiveness of posed expressions appears to be due to a larger array of facial expression prototypes for each emotion in Chinese culture than in Dutch culture. The difference in the distinctiveness of spontaneous expressions, however, appears to reflect the greater similarity of expressions of anger and disgust from the same Chinese individual than from the same Dutch individual. The implications of these findings are discussed in relation to cross-cultural emotion communication, including via cultural products.

Background and Objectives Altered metabolism is observed in amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). However, without a standardized methodology to define metabolic changes, our understanding of factors contributing to and the clinical significance of altered metabolism in ALS is limited. Methods We aimed to determine how geographic variation in metabolic rates influences estimates and accuracy of predicted resting energy expenditure (REE) in patients with ALS and controls, while validating the effectiveness of cohort-specific approaches in predicting altered metabolic rate in ALS. Participants from 3 geographically distinct sites across Australia, China, and the Netherlands underwent REE assessments, and we considered 22 unique equations for estimating REE. Analyses evaluated equation performance and the influence of demographics on metabolic status. Comparisons were made using standardized and local reference values to identify metabolic alterations. Results 606 participants were included from Australia (patients with ALS: 140, controls: 154), the Netherlands (patients with ALS: 79, controls: 37) and China (patients with ALS: 67, controls: 129). Measured REE was variable across geographic cohorts, with fat-free mass contributing to this variation across all patients (p = 0.002 to p < 0.001). Of the 22 predication equations assessed, the Sabounchi Structure 4 (S4) equation performed relatively well across all control cohorts. Use of prediction thresholds generated using data from Australian controls generally increased the prevalence of hypermetabolism in Chinese (55%, [43%–67%]) and Dutch (44%, [33%–55%]) cases when compared with Australian cases (30%, [22%–38%]). Adjustment of prediction thresholds to consider geographically distinct characteristics from matched control cohorts resulted in a decrease in the proportion of hypermetabolic cases in Chinese and Dutch cohorts (25%–31% vs 55% and 20%–34% vs 43%–44%, respectively), and increased prevalence of hypometabolism in Dutch cases with ALS (1% to 8%–10%). Discussion The identification of hypermetabolism in ALS is influenced by the formulae and demographic-specific prediction thresholds used for defining alterations in metabolic rate. A consensus approach is needed for identification of metabolic changes in ALS and will facilitate improved understanding of the cause and clinical significance of this in ALS.

Javanese society and culture has been forged by the situation and condition of the times centuries. Cultural influences from outside, such as the Hindu - Buddhist, Islamic, Chinese, and European, indigenous cultures should lead to "adapt", the acculturation strategy. Local genius to filter incoming external cultural influence of local culture. Javanese culture and society continues to change, whether caused by external and internal factors.Policy and socio-economic problems caused the population of a particular region should move. Dutch colonial period to independence there has been a migration of people from rural to urban areas of Java, from a rural island to another, and from a village in Indonesia to foreign countries. In new areas of the Javanese form a new community as the Javanese developed overseas and that's where Javanese culture that was once their preserve, coached, and developed, such as the Java community in Jakarta, Deli Serdang - North Sumatra, Sitiyung - west Sumatra, Lampung, and Suriname. Java community in this new place coexist and mingle with other tribes and not seldom of those who later married and have children and grandchildren .In the early days of the country Suriname frequent conflicts between tribes that are in there. Suriname Javanese people often act as peacemaker for the tribes opposing it. Javanese cultural values operate to defuse a tense situation and soften the situation and condition of the nuances of violence. The value of local knowledge of Java can be used as an "heirloom" wherever people are and in what circumstances they experience. The value of local knowledge of Java prioritize a sense of leadership and uphold the principles of equality and harmony and respect. This paper aims to explore the value of indigenous leadership that operates on Java Javanese in Suriname. Results will be achieved this paper determined the value of local knowledge is Java - oriented leadership as a solution for the value of a conflicts in society.Keywords : Java, culture, values, diaspora, Suriname

Introduction“From every kind of man obedience I expect; I’m the Emperor of Japan.” (“Miyasama,” from Gilbert and Sullivan’s musical The Mikado, 1885)This commentary is facilitated by—surprisingly resilient—oriental stereotypes of an imagined Japan (think of Oscar Wilde’s assertion, in 1889, that Japan was a European invention). During the Victorian era, in Britain, there was a craze for all things oriental, particularly ceramics and “there was a craze for all things Japanese and no middle class drawing room was without its Japanese fan or teapot.“ (V&A Victorian). These pastoral depictions of the ‘oriental life’ included the figures of men and women in oriental garb, with fans, stilt shoes, kimono-like robes, and appropriate headdresses, engaging in garden-based activities, especially tea ceremony variations (Landow). In fact, tea itself, and the idea of a ceremony of serving it, had taken up a central role, even an obsession in middle- and upper-class Victorian life. Similarly, landscapes with wild seas, rugged rocks and stunted pines, wizened monks, pagodas and temples, and particular fauna and flora (cranes and other birds flying through clouds of peonies, cherry blossoms and chrysanthemums) were very popular motifs (see Martin and Koda). Rather than authenticity, these designs heightened the Western-based romantic stereotypes associated with a stylised form of Japanese life, conducted sedately under rule of the Japanese Imperial Court. In reality, prior to the Meiji period (1868–1912), the Emperor was largely removed from everyday concerns, residing as an isolated, holy figure in Kyoto, the traditional capital of Japan. Japan was instead ruled from Edo (modern day Tokyo) led by the Shogun and his generals, according to a strict Confucian influenced code (see Keene). In Japan, as elsewhere, the presence of feudal-style governance includes policies that determine much of everyday life, including restrictions on clothing (Rall 169). The Samurai code was no different, and included a series of protocols that restricted rank, movement, behaviour, and clothing. As Vincent has noted in the case of the ‘lace tax’ in Great Britain, these restrictions were designed to punish those who seek to penetrate the upper classes through their costume (28-30). In Japan, pre-Meiji sumptuary laws, for example, restricted the use of gold, and prohibited the use of a certain shade of red by merchant classes (V&A Kimono).Therefore, in the governance of pre-globalised societies, the importance of clothing and textile is evident; as Jones and Stallybrass comment: We need to understand the antimatedness of clothes, their ability to “pick up” subjects, to mould and shape them both physically and socially—to constitute subjects through their power as material memories […] Clothing is a worn world: a world of social relations put upon the wearer’s body. (2-3, emphasis added)The significant re-imagining of Japanese cultural and national identities are explored here through the cataclysmic impact of Western ideologies on Japanese cultural traditions. There are many ways to examine how indigenous cultures respond to European, British, or American (hereafter Western) influences, particularly in times of conflict (Wilk). Western ideology arrived in Japan after a long period of isolation (during which time Japan’s only contact was with Dutch traders) through the threat of military hostility and war. It is after this outside threat was realised that Japan’s adoption of military and industrial practices begins. The re-imagining of their national identity took many forms, and the inclusion of a Western-style military costuming as a schoolboy uniform became a highly visible indicator of Japan’s mission to protect its sovereign integrity. A brief history of Japan’s rise from a collection of isolated feudal states to a unified military power, in not only the Asian Pacific region but globally, demonstrates the speed at which they adopted the Western mode of warfare. Gunboats on Japan’s ShorelinesJapan was forcefully opened to the West in the 1850s by America under threat of First Name Perry’s ‘gunboat diplomacy’ (Hillsborough 7-8). Following this, Japan underwent a rapid period of modernisation, and an upsurge in nationalism and military expansion that was driven by a desire to catch up to the European powers present in the Pacific. Noted by Ian Ferguson in Civilization: The West and the Rest, Unsure, the Japanese decided […] to copy everything […] Japanese institutions were refashioned on Western models. The army drilled like Germans; the navy sailed like Britons. An American-style system of state elementary and middle schools was also introduced. (221, emphasis added)This was nothing short of a wide-scale reorganisation of Japan’s entire social structure and governance. Under the Emperor Meiji, who wrested power from the Shogunate and reclaimed it for the Imperial head, Japan steamed into an industrial revolution, achieving in a matter of years what had taken Europe over a century.Japan quickly became a major player-elect on the world stage. However, as an island nation, Japan lacked the essentials of both coal and iron with which to fashion not only industrial machinery but also military equipment, the machinery of war. In 1875 Japan forced Korea to open itself to foreign (read: Japanese) trade. In the same treaty, Korea was recognised as a sovereign nation, separate from Qing China (Tucker 1461). The necessity for raw materials then led to the Sino-Japanese War (1894–95), a conflict between Japan and China that marked the emergence of Japan as a major world power. The Korean Peninsula had long been China’s most important client state, but its strategic location adjacent to the Japanese archipelago, and its natural resources of coal and iron, attracted Japan’s interest. Later, the Russo-Japanese War (1904–05), allowed a victorious Japan to force Russia to abandon its expansionist policy in the Far East, becoming the first Asian power in modern times to defeat a European power. The Russo-Japanese War developed out of the rivalry between Russia and Japan for dominance in Korea and Manchuria, again in the struggle for natural resources (Tucker 1534-46).Japan’s victories, together with the county’s drive for resources, meant that Japan could now determine its role within the Asia-Pacific sphere of influence. As Japan’s military, and their adoption of Westernised combat, proved effective in maintaining national integrity, other social institutions also looked to the West (Ferguson 221). In an ironic twist—while Victorian and Continental fashion was busy adopting the exotic, oriental look (Martin and Koda)—the kimono, along with other essentials of Japanese fashions, were rapidly altered (both literally and figuratively) to suit new, warlike ideology. It should be noted that kimono literally means ‘things that you wear’ and which, prior to exposure to Western fashions, signified all worn clothing (Dalby 65-119). “Wearing Things” in Westernised JapanAs Japan modernised during the late 1800s the kimono was positioned as symbolising barbaric, pre-modern, ‘oriental’ Japan. Indeed, on 17 January 1887 the Meiji Empress issued a memorandum on the subject of women’s clothing in Japan: “She [the Empress] believed that western clothes were in fact closer to the dress of women in ancient Japan than the kimonos currently worn and urged that they be adopted as the standard clothes of the reign” (Keene 404). The resemblance between Western skirts and blouses and the simple skirt and separate top that had been worn in ancient times by a people descended from the sun goddess, Amaterasu wo mikami, was used to give authority and cultural authenticity to Japan’s modernisation projects. The Imperial Court, with its newly ennobled European style aristocrats, exchanged kimono silks for Victorian finery, and samurai armour for military pomp and splendour (Figure 1).Figure 1: The Meiji Emperor, Empress and Crown Prince resplendent in European fashions on an outing to Asukayama Park. Illustration: Toyohara Chikanobu, circa 1890.It is argued here that the function of a uniform is to prepare the body for service. Maids and butlers, nurses and courtesans, doctors, policemen, and soldiers are all distinguished by their garb. Prudence Black states: “as a technology, uniforms shape and code the body so they become a unit that belongs to a collective whole” (93). The requirement to discipline bodies through clothing, particularly through uniforms, is well documented (see Craik, Peoples, and Foucault). The need to distinguish enemies from allies on the battlefield requires adherence to a set of defined protocols, as referenced in military fashion compendiums (see Molloy). While the postcolonial adoption of Western-based clothing reflects a new form of subservience (Rall, Kuechler and Miller), in Japan, the indigenous garments were clearly designed in the interests of ideological allegiance. To understand the Japanese sartorial traditions, the kimono itself must be read as providing a strong disciplinary element. The traditional garment is designed to represent an upright and unbending column—where two meters of under bindings are used to discipline the body into shape are then topped with a further four meters of a stiffened silk obi wrapped around the waist and lower chest. To dress formally in such a garment requires helpers (see Dalby). The kimono both constructs and confines the women who wear it, and presses them into their roles as dutiful, upper-class daughters (see Craik). From the 1890s through to the 1930s, when Japan again enters a period of militarism, the myth of the kimono again changes as it is integrated into the build-up towards World War II.Decades later, when Japan re-established itself as a global economic power in the 1970s and 1980s, the kimono was re-authenticated as Japan’s ‘traditional’ garment. This time it was not the myth of a people descended from solar deities that was on display, but that of samurai strength and propriety for men, alongside an exaggerated femininity for women, invoking a powerful vision of Japanese sartorial tradition. This reworking of the kimono was only possible as the garment was already contained within the framework of Confucian family duty. However, in the lead up to World War II, Japanese military advancement demanded of its people soldiers that could win European-style wars. The quickest solution was to copy the military acumen and strategies of global warfare, and the costumes of the soldiery and seamen of Europe, including Great Britain (Ferguson). It was also acknowledged that soldiers were ‘made not born’ so the Japanese educational system was re-vamped to emulate those of its military rivals (McVeigh). It was in the uptake of schoolboy uniforms that this re-imagining of Japanese imperial strength took place.The Japanese Schoolboy UniformCentral to their rapid modernisation, Japan adopted a constitutional system of education that borrowed from American and French models (Tipton 68-69). The government viewed education as a “primary means of developing a sense of nation,” and at its core, was the imperial authorities’ obsession with defining “Japan and Japaneseness” (Tipton 68-69). Numerous reforms eventually saw, after an abolition of fees, nearly 100% attendance by both boys and girls, despite a lingering mind-set that educating women was “a waste of time” (Tipton 68-69). A boys’ uniform based on the French and Prussian military uniforms of the 1860s and 1870s respectively (Kinsella 217), was adopted in 1879 (McVeigh 47). This jacket, initially with Prussian cape and cap, consists of a square body, standing mandarin style collar and a buttoned front. It was through these education reforms, as visually symbolised by the adoption of military style school uniforms, that citizen making, education, and military training became interrelated aspects of Meiji modernisation (Kinsella 217). Known as the gakuran (gaku: to study; ran: meaning both orchid, and a pun on Horanda, meaning Holland, the only Western country with trading relations in pre-Meiji Japan), these jackets were a symbol of education, indicating European knowledge, power and influence and came to reflect all things European in Meiji Japan. By adopting these jackets two objectives were realised:through the magical power of imitation, Japan would, by adopting the clothing of the West, naturally rise in military power; and boys were uniformed to become not only educated as quasi-Europeans, but as fighting soldiers and sons (suns) of the nation.The gakuran jacket was first popularised by state-run schools, however, in the century and a half that the garment has been in use it has come to symbolise young Japanese masculinity as showcased in campus films, anime, manga, computer games, and as fashion is the preeminent garment for boybands and Japanese hipsters.While the gakuran is central to the rise of global militarism in Japan (McVeigh 51-53), the jacket would go on to form the basis of the Sun Yat Sen and Mao Suits as symbols of revolutionary China (see McVeigh). Supposedly, Sun Yat Sen saw the schoolboy jacket in Japan as a utilitarian garment and adopted it with a turn down collar (Cumming et al.). For Sun Yat Sen, the gakuran was the perfect mix of civilian (school boy) and military (the garment’s Prussian heritage) allowing him to walk a middle path between the demands of both. Furthermore, the garment allowed Sun to navigate between Western style suits and old-fashioned Qing dynasty styles (Gerth 116); one was associated with the imperialism of the National Products Movement, while the other represented the corruption of the old dynasty. In this way, the gakuran was further politicised from a national (Japanese) symbol to a global one. While military uniforms have always been political garments, in the late 1800s and early 1900s, as the world was rocked by revolutions and war, civilian clothing also became a means of expressing political ideals (McVeigh 48-49). Note that Mahatma Ghandi’s clothing choices also evolved from wholly Western styles to traditional and emphasised domestic products (Gerth 116).Mao adopted this style circa 1927, further defining the style when he came to power by adding elements from the trousers, tunics, and black cotton shoes worn by peasants. The suit was further codified during the 1960s, reaching its height in the Cultural Revolution. While the gakuran has always been a scholarly black (see Figure 2), subtle differences in the colour palette differentiated the Chinese population—peasants and workers donned indigo blue Mao jackets, while the People’s Liberation Army Soldiers donned khaki green. This limited colour scheme somewhat paradoxically ensured that subtle hierarchical differences were maintained even whilst advocating egalitarian ideals (Davis 522). Both the Sun Yat Sen suit and the Mao jacket represented the rejection of bourgeois (Western) norms that objectified the female form in favour of a uniform society. Neo-Maoism and Mao fever of the early 1990s saw the Mao suit emerge again as a desirable piece of iconic/ironic youth fashion. Figure 2: An example of Gakuran uniform next to the girl’s equivalent on display at Ichikawa Gakuen School (Japan). Photo: Emerald King, 2015.There is a clear and vital link between the influence of the Prussian style Japanese schoolboy uniform on the later creation of the Mao jacket—that of the uniform as an integral piece of worn propaganda (Atkins).For Japan, the rapid deployment of new military and industrial technologies, as well as a sartorial need to present her leaders as modern (read: Western) demanded the adoption of European-style uniforms. The Imperial family had always been removed from Samurai battlefields, so the adoption of Western military costume allowed Japan’s rulers to present a uniform face to other global powers. When Japan found itself in conflict in the Asia Pacific Region, without an organised military, the first requirement was to completely reorganise their system of warfare from a feudal base and to train up national servicemen. Within an American-style compulsory education system, the European-based curriculum included training in mathematics, engineering and military history, as young Britons had for generations begun their education in Greek and Latin, with the study of Ancient Greek and Roman wars (Bantock). It is only in the classroom that ideological change on a mass scale can take place (Reference Please), a lesson not missed by later leaders such as Mao Zedong.ConclusionIn the 1880s, the Japanese leaders established their position in global politics by adopting clothing and practices from the West (Europeans, Britons, and Americans) in order to quickly re-shape their country’s educational system and military establishment. The prevailing military costume from foreign cultures not only disciplined their adopted European bodies, they enforced a new regime through dress (Rall 157-174). For boys, the gakuran symbolised the unity of education and militarism as central to Japanese masculinity. Wearing a uniform, as many authors suggest, furthers compliance (Craik, Nagasawa Kaiser and Hutton, and McVeigh). As conscription became a part of Japanese reality in World War II, the schoolboys just swapped their military-inspired school uniforms for genuine military garments.Re-imagining a Japanese schoolboy uniform from a European military costume might suit ideological purposes (Atkins), but there is more. The gakuran, as a uniform based on a close, but not fitted jacket, was the product of a process of advanced industrialisation in the garment-making industry also taking place in the 1800s:Between 1810 and 1830, technical calibrations invented by tailors working at the very highest level of the craft [in Britain] eventually made it possible for hundreds of suits to be cut up and made in advance [...] and the ready-to-wear idea was put into practice for men’s clothes […] originally for uniforms for the War of 1812. (Hollander 31) In this way, industrialisation became a means to mass production, which furthered militarisation, “the uniform is thus the clothing of the modern disciplinary society” (Black 102). There is a perfect resonance between Japan’s appetite for a modern military and their rise to an industrialised society, and their conquests in Asia Pacific supplied the necessary material resources that made such a rapid deployment possible. The Japanese schoolboy uniform was an integral part of the process of both industrialisation and militarisation, which instilled in the wearer a social role required by modern Japanese society in its rise for global power. Garments are never just clothing, but offer a “world of social relations put upon the wearer’s body” (Jones and Stallybrass 3-4).Today, both the Japanese kimono and the Japanese schoolboy uniform continue to interact with, and interrogate, global fashions as contemporary designers continue to call on the tropes of ‘military chic’ (Tonchi) and Japanese-inspired clothing (Kawamura). References Atkins, Jaqueline. Wearing Propaganda: Textiles on the Home Front in Japan, Britain, and the United States. Princeton: Yale UP, 2005.Bantock, Geoffrey Herman. Culture, Industrialisation and Education. London: Routledge & K. Paul, 1968.Black, Prudence. “The Discipline of Appearance: Military Style and Australian Flight Hostess Uniforms 1930–1964.” Fashion & War in Popular Culture. Ed. Denise N. Rall. Bristol: Intellect/U Chicago P, 2014. 91-106.Craik, Jenifer. Uniforms Exposed: From Conformity to Transgression. Oxford: Berg, 2005.Cumming, Valerie, Cecil Williet Cunnington, and Phillis Emily Cunnington. “Mao Style.” The Dictionary of Fashion History. Eds. Valerie Cumming, Cecil Williet Cunnington, and Phillis Emily Cunnington. Oxford: Berg, 2010.Dalby, Liza, ed. Kimono: Fashioning Culture. London: Vintage, 2001.Davis, Edward L., ed. Encyclopaedia of Contemporary Chinese Culture. London: Routledge, 2005.Dees, Jan. Taisho Kimono: Speaking of Past and Present. Milan: Skira, 2009.Ferguson, N. Civilization: The West and the Rest. London: Penguin, 2011.Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan. London: Penguin, 1997. Gerth, Karl. China Made: Consumer Culture and the Creation of the Nation, Cambridge: East Asian Harvard Monograph 224, 2003.Gilbert, W.S., and Arthur Sullivan. The Mikado or, The Town of Titipu. 1885. 16 Nov. 2015 ‹http://math.boisestate.edu/gas/mikado/mk_lib.pdf›. Hillsborough, Romulus. Samurai Revolution: The Dawn of Modern Japan Seen through the Eyes of the Shogun's Last Samurai. Vermont: Tuttle, 2014.Jones, Anne R., and Peter Stallybrass, Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000.Keene, Donald. Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852-1912. New York: Columbia UP, 2002.King, Emerald L. “Schoolboys and Kimono Ladies.” Presentation to the Un-Thinking Asian Migrations Conference, University of Otago, Dunedin, New Zealand, 24-26 Aug. 2014. Kinsella, Sharon. “What’s Behind the Fetishism of Japanese School Uniforms?” Fashion Theory 6.2 (2002): 215-37. Kuechler, Susanne, and Daniel Miller, eds. Clothing as Material Culture. Oxford: Berg, 2005.Landow, George P. “Liberty and the Evolution of the Liberty Style.” 22 Aug. 2010. ‹http://www.victorianweb.org/art/design/liberty/lstyle.html›.Martin, Richard, and Harold Koda. Orientalism: Vision of the East in Western Dress. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1994.McVeigh, Brian J. Wearing Ideology: State, Schooling, and Self-Presentation in Japan. Oxford: Berg, 2000.Molloy, John. Military Fashion: A Comparative History of the Uniforms of the Great Armies from the 17th Century to the First World War. New York: Putnam, 1972.Peoples, Sharon. “Embodying the Military: Uniforms.” Critical Studies in Men’s Fashion 1.1 (2014): 7-21.Rall, Denise N. “Costume & Conquest: A Proximity Framework for Post-War Impacts on Clothing and Textile Art.” Fashion & War in Popular Culture, ed. Denise N. Rall. Bristol: Intellect/U Chicago P, 2014. 157-74. Tipton, Elise K. Modern Japan: A Social and Political History. 3rd ed. London: Routledge, 2016.Tucker, Spencer C., ed. A Global Chronology of Conflict: From the Ancient World to the Modern Middle East. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2013.V&A Kimono. Victoria and Albert Museum. “A History of the Kimono.” 2004. 2 Oct. 2015 ‹http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/h/a-history-of-the-kimono/›.V&A Victorian. Victoria and Albert Museum. “The Victorian Vision of China and Japan.” 10 Nov. 2015 ‹http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/t/the-victorian-vision-of-china-and-japan/›.Vincent, Susan J. The Anatomy of Fashion: Dressing the Body from the Renaissance to Today. Berg: Oxford, 2009.Wilde, Oscar. “The Decay of Lying.” 1889. In Intentions New York: Berentano’s 1905. 16 Nov. 2015 ‹http://virgil.org/dswo/courses/novel/wilde-lying.pdf›. Wilk, Richard. “Consumer Goods as a Dialogue about Development.” Cultural History 7 (1990) 79-100.