Artykuły w czasopismach na temat „Royal Academy of Arts, Great Britain”

During the mid-eighteenth century two museum institutions the British Museum and the Royal Academy of Arts were established, the former by Parliament, the latter by artists under the patronage of the Crown. In their origins and their early development they illustrate and help shape ideas relating to the growth of the notion of Britishness and English national identity. They were the theatres in which ideas about the kind of political nation Britain imagined itself to be were played out between loyalists (supporters of a reformed monarchy) and Whigs (mistrustful of the crown and jealous of the hard won rights of Parliament). Their foundation is all the more extraordinary because they developed at a time when the arts were not generally understood to be a matter for the state in Britain and when some powerful politicians regarded national sponsorship and support of the arts with great suspicion.This paper seeks to re-examine the origins of these two key national cultural institutions. It considers their political significance and suggests that this has been somewhat downplayed by those who focus on their development within cultural historical contexts. While not dismissing the importance of the international and national cultural arenas in which these institutions were imagined and forged, particularly the role of the Enlightenment, the paper suggests that they can only be fully understood within the context of a nation still exploring and developing a constitutional monarchical system of government and its need to present a form of Britishness to its citizens and its neighbours.

In connection with the centenary of K.Ya. Kondratyev, the academician of the USSR and RAS, the article examines the scientific path of the outstanding geophysicist, the man who, being a student of the Physics Department of LSU, became an ordinary participant in the second world war and after severe injuries, finished his studies, worked his way from the assistant to the University rector, becoming a scientist whose works were highly appreciated in the world scientific community and are still in demand today. K.Ya. Kondratyev was one of the first to use remote sensing methods of the Earth and atmosphere from manned spaceships, his contribution to the implementation of both national and international research complex experiments, to the consideration of the problems of modern climate change, global ecology and the development of the strategy of global EcoDynamics being great. K.Ya Kondratyev was awarded the State prize of the USSR, was a co-author of scientific discovery "the Phenomenon of vertically-ray structures of day radiation of the upper atmosphere of the Earth”, listed in the State register of discoveries of the USSR under No. 106 with priority from May 19, 1971, was a winner of the Honorary award and was awarded the Grand gold medal of the World Meteorological Organization. He was awarded the Simons Gold medal of the Royal meteorological society of Great Britain. K.Ya Kondratyev was elected an Honorary member of the American Meteorological Society (USA), Royal Meteorological Society (UK), Academy of Natural Sciences "Leopoldina" (Germany), foreign member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences (USA), member of the International Academy of Astronautics, an honorary doctor of the universities of Lille (France, Budapest (Hungary), Athens (Greece). For many years he has an editor of the "Earth Research from Space" journal, a member of the editorial boards of "Optics of atmosphere and ocean" and "Izvestiya of the Russian geographical society" journals, a member of the editorial boards of foreign journals of "Meteorology and Atmospheric Physics" (Austria), "Idojaras" (Hungary), "II Nuovo Cimento C", "Italy", "Atmosfera" (Mexico), "Energy and Environment" (UK). His scientific and literary heritage consists of 120 monographs and more than 1,500 scientific articles published in the leading scientific journals in Russia and abroad

Higher-level music education was in a poor state in mid-nineteenth-century Britain. In particular, the country’s most significant conservatoire, the Royal Academy of Music in London, suffered from a lack of financial support, poor management, and a reputation for mediocre teaching and amateurish standards. Responding to the need for an overhaul, the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce launched an investigation into the management of the Royal Academy of Music in 1865. The Society’s Committee interviewed a range of high-profile figures from Britain and abroad. The reports and debates that ensued cast light not only on the state of the Royal Academy but also on the organization of professional music training across the United Kingdom and elsewhere in Europe. Many of these discussions revealed important insights into attitudes toward musical training and its institutions, toward the music profession, and toward music itself. Musicians interviewed for the purpose of the Royal Academy report had varying opinions on the curriculum suitable for aspiring professional musicians, including the role of general education and theoretical music studies. The place of amateurs in such institutions was also an important part of the discussion, both in terms of the students admitted and institutional management. Fundamental divisions over the purpose and nature of professional-level education in music reflect both the changing nature of education and deep fractures in the music profession itself, offering valuable insights into the concerns and problems of the time.

The letter briefly describes cooperation of the St. Petersburg Medical Academy of Postgraduate Studies and Royal college of general practitioners (Great Britain) with active participation of the author, aimed at improving the training of general practitioners in Russia and the contribution of the Department of Family Medicine of St. Petersburg Medical Academy of Postgraduate Studies (now North-Western State Medical University named after I.I. Mechnikov) in the implementation of joint international projects.

Taryn Storey believes that a series of letters recently discovered in the archive of the Arts Council of Great Britain (ACGB) makes it important that we reassess the genesis of the English Stage Company at the Royal Court. Dating from November 1952, the correspondence between George Devine and William Emrys Williams, the Secretary General of the ACGB, offers an insight into a professional and personal relationship that was to have a profound influence on the emerging Arts Council policy for drama. Storey makes the case that in 1953 Devine not only shaped his Royal Court proposal to fit the priorities of the ACGB Drama Panel, but that Devine and senior members of the ACGB then collaborated to ensure that the proposal became a key part of Arts Council strategic planning. Furthermore, she puts forward the argument that the relationship between Devine and Williams was instrumental to new writing and innovation becoming central to the future rationale for state subsidy to the theatre. Taryn Storey is a doctoral student at the University of Reading. Her PhD thesis examines the relationship between practice and policy in the development of new writing in post-war British theatre, and forms part of the AHRC-funded project ‘Giving Voice to the Nation: The Arts Council of Great Britain and the Development of Theatre and Performance in Britain 1945–1995’, a collaboration between the University of Reading and the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Victorian art, particularly in the latter decades of the 19th century, turned to classical subjects obsessively. Alma-Tadema, Poynter, Leighton, Watts, and a host of less celebrated figures, produced a string of canvasses especially for the Royal Academy but also for other galleries in London and for exhibition around the country, which drew on the passion for the classical world so much in evidence in the broader cultural milieu of nineteenth-century Europe. Classics was an integral part of the furniture of the Victorian mind, through the education system, through popular culture, through architecture, through opera, through literature. The high art of the Royal Academy, viewed by thousands and extensively discussed in the press, is a fundamental aspect of this classicising discourse. This era was self-consciously a great age of progress, but it is striking to what degree the rapidly changing culture of Britain expressed its concerns, projected its ideals and explored its sense of self through images of the past—medieval, and early Christian, as much as classical. In this article, I want to look at one artist, J.W. Waterhouse, who was at the centre of this artistic moment—a discussion which will also involve us in investigating the Victorian perception of less familiar classical authors such as Josephus and Prudentius (as well as Homer and Ovid), and less familiar classical figures—St Eulalia, Mariamne—as well as the most recognisable classical icons such as the Sirens and Circe. My first aim is to show how sophisticated and interesting the art of Waterhouse is, a figure who has suffered markedly from the shifts of taste in the twentieth century. His classical pictures in particular show a fascinating engagement with the position of the male subject of desire, which has been largely ignored in the scant discussions of his work, and is strikingly absent from the most influential attempts to see Waterhouse's art in its Victorian context. Waterhouse's visualisation of classical subjects goes to the heart of Victorian anxieties about sexuality.

The Nordic achievements in the visual arts in the age of romanticism were first and foremost accomplished by Danish artists. The great initiator was C. W. Eckersberg, who observed reality with great scrutiny and demanded of himself a faithful rendering of all the details. However, at the same time, he stuck to the classical principles of composition and omitted all accidental and ugly aspects of the motif that did not fit into his concept of an ideal picture. The principles he laid down in his art in around 1815 formed the basis of Danish (and Norwegian) painting until 1850. He introduced open-air painting as part of the tuition at the Royal Academy of Copenhagen and was, in this respect, a pioneer in a European context. During the 1820s and 30s almost all the young Danish painters were pupils of Eckersberg, and he also influenced the Norwegian J. C. Dahl. The subjects of the Danish paintings are very down-to-earth – they are first and foremost taken from everyday life. In the first decades of nineteenth century, Copenhagen had the status as the most important art centre in Northern Europe, and the art academy attracted many German artists. However, around 1840, a growing nationalism separated the Danish and German artists, and many Danish landscape painters devoted their art to the praise of Denmark. The nationalist artists, however, still stuck to the reality they had actually seen.

The Archive of the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts in Belgrade holds four letters that the Nikolaj Velimirovic (1881-1956) sent in 1916. to philologist Aleksandar Belic (1876-1960). Both of them were send by the Serbian government in the missions at the the Allied capitals - Velimirovic in London, Belic in Petrograd. Velimirovic?s view of international relations and the importance of the impact of the Russian Empire in Great Britain led him to cooperation with Belic to help Serbia in achieving its war aims.

John Cassidy, born in Ireland and trained as a sculptor at the Manchester School of Art, was a popular figure in the Manchester area during his long career. From 1887, when he spent the summer modelling for visitors at the Royal Jubilee Exhibition, to the 1930s he was a frequent choice for portrait busts, statues and relief medallions. Elected to the Manchester Academy of Fine Arts, he also created imaginative works in all sorts of materials, many of which appeared at the Academys annual exhibitions. He gained public commissions from other towns and cities around Britain, and after World War I created several war memorials. This essay examines his life and work in Manchester, with particular reference to two major patrons, Mrs Enriqueta Rylands and James Gresham. A list of public works still to be seen in Greater Manchester is included.

In March 1776 when Etienne Bonnot, abbe de Condillac, publishedCommerce and Government, he was sixty-one years old, the same age as Francois Quesnay when he first published on economics. According to Jacqueline Hecht he had been a habitué of Quesnay's entresol (1958, p. 252), and Nicholas Baudeau has referred to Condillac's close friendship with Quesnay (1776/1903, p. 443). A book aimed to present a complete account of political economy from one of France's most distinguished philosophers, a member of the Academie franchise (“the immortals”) and the Royal Academy of Berlin, was bound to arouse great interest.

Arthur John Birch AC CMG FRS FAA was one of the great organic chemists of the twentieth century. He held chairs at the Universities of Sydney and Manchester and at the Australian National University in Canberra, and was President of the Australian Academy of Science from 1982 to 1986. His outstanding research contributions include the Birch reduction of aromatic compounds by sodium and ethanol in liquid ammonia, his polyketide theory of the biosynthesis of natural products, and his studies of synthetic applications of diene iron tricarbonyl complexes. *This memoir is also published in Biographical Memoirs of Fellows of the Royal Society of London, 2007.

AbstractIndia was still a British colony when the International Astronomical Union was born in 1919. India did not have a national science academy nor a national research council at the time. The Royal Society, London, which was the adhering body of Great Britain to IAU, handled matters of the colony too. India formally joined the IAU in 1948 as an independent nation through an initiative taken by the Government of India. In 1968, the National Institute of Sciences of India (NISI) became the adhering organisation to the IAU, as did the other affiliate Unions of ICSU. Soon after, its name was changed to Indian National Science Academy (INSA).Till the nineteen-sixties, individual Indian membership in the IAU grew rather tardily but the situation changed with the rapid growth of astronomical activities in the country. In 1967, M.K. Vainu Bappu, the then Director of the Kodaikanal Observatory, was elected a Vice-President of the Union. In 1979, he was elected the President of IAU for the triennium 1979–1982, and during the same period, V. Radhakrishnan and Govind Swarup were elected Presidents respectively of the Commisions 34 and 40. In 1985, the General Assembly of the Union was held in New Delhi. It was dedicated to the memory of Vainu Bappu who had initiated the process of inviting the Union to hold its GA in India. A few years later the Sixth Asian-Pacific Regional IAU Meeting was held in Pune. A number of IAU symposia and colloquia have also been held in the country. During the last three decades, the engagement of the Indian astronomers with IAU has increased a great deal with a large number of them taking on important official roles in the IAU. Currently, India has close to 300 individual members.

Seventeenth-century English virtuoso attitudes to the visual arts have often been contrasted with a putative eighteenth-century culture of connoisseurship, most notably in a still influential 1942 article by Walter Houghton. This essay revisits Houghton's thesis and argues that English virtuoso culture did indeed allow for an incipient notion of artistic connoisseurship but that it did so in a manner different from the French model. The first section details a virtuoso aesthetic in which a modern approach to the cultural heritage of antiquity was central. The instructive ethical and historical attributes of an art work were deemed more important than attribution to a master artist, although one can discern an incipient notion of a virtuoso canon of great artists. The second section examines the social and institutional position of the English virtuosi and argues that the lack of a Royal Academy of Arts in the French manner made virtuoso attitudes to the arts unusually receptive to outside influences such as the Royal Society and other private clubs and academies. It concludes by considering the ways in which some eighteenth-century concepts of taste and connoisseurship defined themselves in contrast to an earlier and wider-ranging virtuosity even if they failed to fully supplant it.

Prizes for innovations are currently experiencing a renaissance, following their marked decline during the nineteenth century. Debates about such incentive mechanisms tend to employ canonical historical anecdotes to motivate and support the analysis and policy proposals. Daguerre's “patent buyout,” the Longitude Prize, inducement prizes for butter substitutes and billiard balls, the activities of the Royal Society of Arts and other “encouragement” institutions—all comprise potentially misleading case studies. The article surveys and summarizes extensive empirical research using samples drawn from Britain, France, and the United States, including “great inventors” and their ordinary counterparts, and prizes at industrial exhibitions. The results suggest that administered systems of rewards to innovators suffered from a number of disadvantages in design and practice, which might be inherent to their nonmarket orientation.

ABSTRACTIn the early nineteenth century, Joseph Bonomi the Elder (1739–1808) was one of the best-known architects in Britain — so much so that he figured in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility (1811) — but his reputation subsequently declined and diminished to the extent that, in the current literature on British architecture of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, he is little more than a footnote. In a circular process, this excision directly contributed to the demolition of some of his most important work — above all, Rosneath House in Dunbartonshire — on the grounds that it was designed by an architect of little importance, which in turn makes it all the harder to recapture and appraise his architecture. The article explores both the reasons for the excision and the nature of Bonomi’s work. Drawing on the limited available evidence as well as hitherto unused construction drawings of Rosneath, the article repositions Bonomi as an Italian architect working in London — first for the Adam brothers and then on his own account — and examines the qualities of his designs and the factors that led to him being excluded from the inner circle of the artistic establishment, most notably the Royal Academy. In doing so, it sheds new light both on developments in neoclassicism in the period, specifically the ‘stripped down’ style that Bonomi espoused, and on the xenophobic and anti-Catholic currents in London at the time, which appear to have continued to influence his posthumous reputation.

World War II was the largest military conflict in the human history. This conflict affected both military relations between states and the development of the armed forces of many countries. The Air Force had the greatest development, including the RAF, which made Great Britain famous in the aftermath of the war by having a decisive influence on its outcome. The Air Force's missions included destroying enemy personnel and facilities, providing air cover for the Army and the Navy, as well as conducting air transfers and air reconnaissance. All of this has influenced the emergence of new slang terms in the language of the British military. In addition, in the twentieth century there was a rapid development of weapons and military equipment, which also influenced the military slang. Since the Second World War, a number of films have been made about the conflict. The authors of these films strive to show the life of soldiers during the war. That is why war films often use military slang, which makes them a great way to learn military slang terms. We consider the war film “Battle of Britain” (dir. By Guy Hamilton, 1969) for the presence of the military slang of the Royal Air Force and the translation of this film into Russian. In addition, we will make a thematic classification of slang and determine the ways of translating military slang into Russian. While training, military specialists, first of all, study the features of formal military discourse, which is why its informal part remains poorly understood. Therefore, upon completion of training, military interpreters often face problems in translating slang terms. Therefore, research in this area can help military specialists avoid mistakes during their professional activities.

Since its introductionat the Royal Academy exhibition of 1891, Luke Fildes's paintingThe Doctorhas earned that often hyperbolic adjective “iconic.” Immediately hailed as “the picture of the year” (“The Royal Academy,” “The Doctor,” “Fine Arts”), it soon toured the nation as part of a travelling exhibition, in which it “attracted most attention” (“Liverpool Autumn Exhibition”) and so affected spectators that one was even struck dead on the spot (“Sudden Death”). Over the following decades it spawned a school of imitations, supposed companion pictures, poems, parodies, tableaux vivants, an early Edison film, and a mass-produced engraving that graced middle-class homes and doctors' offices in Britain and abroad for generations to come and was reputedly the highest-grossing issue ever for the prominent printmaking firm of Agnew & Sons (Dakers 265–66). When Fildes died in 1927 after a career spanning seven decades and marked by many commercial successes and even several royal portraits, hisTimesobituary nonetheless bore “The Doctor” as its sub-headline (“Sir Luke Fildes”) and sparked a lively discussion of the painting in the letters column for several issues thereafter (“Points From Letters” 2, 4, 5 Mar. 1927). Although the animus against things Victorian in the early twentieth century shadowedThe Doctorit never eclipsed it; by the middle of the century the painting was still being held up as the quasi-Platonic ideal of medical practice (“Bedside Manner,” “98.4”), gracing postage stamps, and serving ironically as the logo for both a celebration of Britain's National Health Service and a campaign against its equivalent in the United States. Appreciation of the painting in mid-century art historical circles was echoed in the popular press (“Victorian Art”), andThe Doctorwas singled out as a highlight of the reorganized Tate Gallery in 1957 (“Tate Gallery”), after which it settled into a sort of dowager status as a cornerstone of that eminent collection, where it is still in the regular rotation for public display. Since the mid-1990s it has been a recurring focus of discussion in both Medical Humanities journals and prominent medical professional organs such as theLancetand theBritish Medical Journal, where a steady stream of articles still cite it as a sort of prelapsarian benchmark for the role and demeanor of the ideal medical practitioner.

No event of the post-Second World War decade in Britain is recalled as affectionately or enveloped in such an aura of nostalgia as the Festival of Britain, a five-month series of cultural events and exhibits, with its centerpiece at the South Bank in London. But the Festival dear to the recollections of those growing up during and after the war diverged sharply from the original conception of its progenitors.In 1943 the Royal Society of the Arts, partly responsible for the Great Exhibition of 1851, suggested to the government that an international exhibition along similar lines be staged in 1951 to commemorate the earlier event. To propose a celebratory occasion in 1943 was an act of faith that the war would not only end successfully, but that Britain would have recovered sufficiently by 1951 to warrant such a demonstration. In September 1945, with the war over and Labour in power, Gerald Barry, the editor of the News Chronicle, addressed an open letter to Stafford Cripps, then President of the Board of Trade, advocating a trade and cultural exhibition in London as a way of commemorating the centenary of the Crystal Palace. Such an exhibition would advertise British products and display British prowess in design and craftsmanship. He favored a site in the center of London, such as Hyde Park or Battersea, either of which would provide ample space for such an exhibition. What prompted these suggestions was the need to provide practical help to British commerce at a time when it was clearly under pressure shifting from wartime controls to peacetime competition.

A revised and abridged record of the Annual Lecture of the Society of Architectural Historians of Great Britain, given at the Courtauld Institute of Art, London, on 12 November 2012Two exceptional events in London in 2012, the queen’s Diamond Jubilee and the Olympics, provoked questions about the origins and legacy of major public events of the past. This article explores the impact on the fabric of London since the eighteenth century of occasional planned spectacles through discussion of two main types of event, namely the procession along a predetermined route and occasions requiring a large organized space.George, Elector of Hanover, succeeded to the throne as George I on 1 August 1714. The proclamation of a new monarch took place at a series of traditional sites. The Heralds started at the king’s residence, St James’s Palace, and proceeded to Charing Cross, where the statue of Charles I had replaced the medieval Eleanor cross destroyed in the Civil War. The third site, Temple Bar, marked the boundary of the City Liberties. Within the City the proclamation was repeated at St Mary le Bow and at the Royal Exchange — recent post-Fire buildings, but iconic sites — marking the significance of the Church and the power centre of the City merchants.

In late Victorian England, dance teachers lacked national representation and means of communication among themselves to address professional concerns. By 1930, at least ten professional associations had emerged in Britain, some of which, such as the Royal Academy of Dance (RAD), The British Association of Teachers and Dancing (BATD) and the Imperial Society of Teachers of Dancing (ISTD), are still active today. Little has been written about the wider context of their foundation and of earlier initiatives to establish a professional body for dance pedagogy in England. A key figure in contemporaneous efforts to develop an infrastructure was Robert Morris Crompton (c.1845–1926), a London-based dancing master. Choreographer, writer, and founder-editor of the first periodical devoted to dance in England (Dancing, 1891–1893), Robert Crompton finally succeeded in establishing a national organisation that was devoted to both social and stage dancing in 1904. As the first president of the ISTD, his visionary ideals of an annual technical congress, improvements in the status of the profession, and the future enhancement of dance as an art were placed on a firm institutional footing. Charlatan practitioners, declining standards in the ballroom, and unhelpful licensing laws, together with a scattered and highly individualised competitive profession, were challenges in the early 1890s that Crompton initially failed to overcome. Records of his dreams and anxieties in Dancing provide valuable insight into the problems that beset the teachers of the time. In tandem with other source material relating to the social context for dance of the period, consideration of the trials and aspirations that lay behind Crompton's campaign for a national professional association help to broaden understanding of the place of dance in late Victorian society in England.

With the support of the Royal National Institute of Blind People (RNIB), the life histories of five visually impaired (VI) musicians were collected and analysed between November 2011 and August 2012. This research was conducted as a pilot for a two-year, national investigation of VI musical participation, ‘Visually-impaired musicians’ lives’ (VIML) funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC, 2013–2015), which has brought together the Institute of Education, University of London, the RNIB and the Royal Academy of Music, London as project partners. In this instance, life histories were co-constructed narratives – foci were the self-identities of this unique group and ‘insider’ perspectives on education, musical participation and society. Analytic induction of the biographies revealed that a perceived barrier to lifelong learning was having the ability to read notation, either adapted print or in Braille format, and the access to educators who had expertise to teach musicians with visual impairments. The respondents commented on the great value of ensemble participation and adopting teaching roles too. With widespread lore in society about the exceptional musical abilities of those with visual impairment, longstanding traditions of blind musicianship, plus evidence of distinct neural development and hearing, they acknowledged the cachet associated with blind musicians but, regardless, wished to be considered musicians first and foremost. The findings raise questions about social and music educational inclusion.

In the summer of 1945, celebrations on the occasion of the 220th anniversary of the USSR Academy of Sciences were held in Moscow and Leningrad. More than 1 000 guests took part in them, including 124 guests from 17 countries. The anniversary received a wide international response. In this regard, the responses of foreign delegates to the anniversary celebrations are of great interest, since they reflected reflections on the relationship between scientists and authorities, on the organization of science in the USSR, and on the development of international scientific ties. This article is based on materials from the Archives of University College London and the Archives of the Royal Society studied for the first times. These are press releases of speeches in July and August 1945 by British scientists who attended the academic celebrations in the USSR. The documents present a positive image of Soviet science in general and of the Soviet scientist in particular. This fully correlated with the renewal hopes for the formation of a new world at the end of the Second World War, as well as with the belief in the internationalization of scientific knowledge and the development of international scientific contacts. The presented materials also recorded aspirations to strengthen Soviet-British intellectual ties.

Indian theatre practice under British colonial rule was marked by differing strategies of resistance: agit-prop drama to promote social and political reform; the preservation of classical dance as cultural heritage; and the continuing practice of folk rituals in rural areas outwith the immediate control of the colonial authorities. Postindependence India, however, has witnessed those ‘deviant’ practices of resistance become the dominant ideological performance practices of modern India. Much actor training continued to be modelled on British drama schools such as RADA (Royal Academy of Dramatic Art); classical dances have survived to incorporate certain aspects of western ballet (for example, group sequences in Kathak); and the folk rituals have come increasingly under the microscope of western cultural tourists. Indian theatre practice, therefore, succumbs to the power of the dollar, as western academics and practitioners, with their financial and technological power, act as legitimizing agents for the global recognition of Asian culture. We are at a time when great currency is being attached to the notion of intercultural rejuvenation of home cultures by acts of productive reception with foreign cultures (a more positive definition of the practice by Erika Fischer-Lichte in direct response to Edward Said's charge of cultural colonialism which he terms orientalism). It is worthwhile taking note of how certain forms of modern Indian theatre are resisting intercultural practices, not by refusal or direct opposition, but by theatrical acts of intra-cultural rejuvenation, without the injection of the foreign culture as a serum.

‘It's my PARTY…;’The Cambridge Museum of Classical and General Archaeology opened on 6 May 1884 with – what else? – a PARTY. Distinguished guests turned out, the University meeting the Aristocracy, Arts and Politics: H.R.H. Prince Albert Victor of Wales (the Queen's son, then an undergraduate), Sir Frederick Leighton (President of the Royal Academy), the painters Lawrence Alma-Tadema and Edward Poynter, the American Ambassador, Sir Frederick Burton (Director of the National Gallery), George Scharf (Director of the National Portrait Gallery), and other assorted dignitaries rubbing shoulders and sharing the fun with Richard Jebb (Regius Professor of Greek), E. B. (Primitive Culture) Tylor, S. H. Butcher (of Butcher and Lang's Odyssey), as well as (in the usual formula) ‘the Heads of Colleges, Doctors and Professors, the officers of the University’ … and their ‘ladies’. ‘Luncheon’ was taken in the hall of Gonville and Caius College at one o'clock. A great feast, no doubt, but a bit of a sprint. By two o'clock the assembled company had already finished the pudding and was proceeding to the lecture room of the new museum in Little St Mary's Lane.

Just before coming to the conference on the Relation between English and Foreign Languages in the Academy, I saw an exhibit at the Institute of American Indian Arts Museum in Santa Fe titled Who Stole the Teepee? Combining historic with contemporary objects, the exhibit probed not only the theft of tradition announced in its title but the possibility that “we” (Native Americans) or “our ancestors” had been more than willing to sell it. Such speculative reflection resonates with the way in which we who study East Asia have dealt with our relatively stable isolation: while complaining of language and literature colleagues' indifference, if not contempt, toward our endeavors, we have also prided ourselves on the difficulty of our languages and the ancientness of our civilizations, the source of an arcane body of knowledge requisite for even basic literacy. If all foreign language and literature scholars feel subordinate to the empire of English, East Asianists are not only beyond the pale but are often proud of it. Underlying this orientation is an important historical feature: even allowing for the mixed case of China, this region was not colonized by Great Britain. This has meant that it lacks a bourgeoisie that grew up speaking English. I shall return to colonial history below.

The article analyses the changes that took place in the official diplomatic communication of European rulers after the Thirty Years' War and the conclusion of the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, which affirmed a number of sovereign rights to the Estates of the Holy Roman Empire of the German nation (and former vassals of the emperor), including the right to send and receive ambassadors. The new sovereigns, primarily the princes-electors, began to fight for the so-called royal honours (honores regii), which were de facto expressed in a certain set of ceremonies in relation to the ambassadors of the crowned heads and republics assimilated to them. The arena of the struggle for the royal honours was the Imperial Diet of the Holy Roman Empire in Regensburg — a general assembly of all Imperial Estates (in the middle of the eighteenth century — their representatives), by which since the end of the 17th century foreign diplomats had been accredited (first France, a little later — Great Britain, the United Provinces of the Netherlands, in the middle of the eighteenth century — Russia). Having declared their representatives in 1702 as the ministers of the first rank, the electors tried for a century to force the “old” monarchs to send ambassadors to the Diet, and they, by custom, were sent only to the sovereigns. Comparing the various ways out of the ceremonial impasse, the author comes to the conclusion that the struggle for elusive precedence, which foreign diplomats of the second rank (envoys or ministers plenipotentiary) waged with the representatives of the electors at the Imperial Diet, was a deliberately unwinnable strategy, leading either to their isolation or to the recall from their posts. A much more effective strategy that did not damage state prestige was to send to Regensburg so-called ministers without character or residents, who occupied a less honorable position in comparison with ambassadors and envoys, but according to their status were freed from the opportunity to compete with them and, as a result, to come into conflict.

Editor's Note: There is probably no modern scientist as famous as Albert Einstein. Born in Germany in 1879 and educated in physics and mathematics at the Swiss Federal Polytechnic School in Zurich, he was at first unable to find a teaching post, working instead as a technical assistant in the Swiss Patent Office from 1901 until 1908. Early in 1905, Einstein published “A New Determination of Molecular Dimensions,” a paper that earned him a Ph.D. from the University of Zurich. More papers followed, and Einstein returned to teaching, in Zurich, in Prague, and eventually in Berlin, where an appointment in 1914 to the Prussian Academy of Sciences allowed him to concentrate on research. In November of 1919, the Royal Society of London announced that a scientific expedition had photographed a solar eclipse and completed calculations that verified the predictions that Einstein had made in a paper published three years before on the general theory of relativity. Virtually overnight, Einstein was hailed as the world's greatest genius, instantly recognizable, thanks to “his great mane of crispy, frizzled and very black hair, sprinkled with gray and rising high from a lofty brow” (as Romain Rolland described in his diary). In the essay excerpted here, and first published in 1936, Einstein demonstrates his substantial interest in philosophy as well as science. He is pragmatic, in insisting that the only test of concepts is their usefulness in describing the physical world, yet also idealistic, in aiming for the minimum number of concepts to achieve that description. In 1933, Einstein renounced his German citizenship and moved to the United States, where he lived until his death in 1955. A recipient of the Nobel Prize in physics in 1921, he was elected a member of the American Academy of Arts & Sciences in 1924.

The story of how the theory of general relativity found its way into the English speaking world during the Great War has often been told: it is dominated by the towering figure of the Cambridge astronomer Arthur Stanley Eddington, who (in 1916, and through the good services of the Dutch physicist Willem de Sitter) received copies of the papers Einstein had presented to the Berlin Academy in 1915. Eddington engaged in promoting the new theory, and in order to put one of its predictions — the bending of light in a gravitational field — to the test, he arranged for the famous expeditions to observe the eclipse of 29 May 1919 to be mounted, the results of which, presented in November of the same year, were the major breakthrough of general relativity and provoked a public interest unprecedented in the whole history of science. But a history of general relativity in the English-speaking world would be thoroughly incomplete if it did not take into account the contributions made by another, nowadays almost forgotten but at that time probably the most prolific and most dedicated of its popularizers, the Australian physicist and translator Henry L. Brose. Largely overlooked in recent accounts of the history of general relativity, Brose's rendering into English of a series of excellent German works on the theory was decisive for its understanding in the Anglo-Saxon world. The texts he chose (including Moritz Schlick's Space and Time in Contemporary Physics and Hermann Weyl's Space, Time, Matter) were among the first and most important that had so far appeared on the subject, and their English translations were published at a time when accounts of what was to be called 'one of the greatest of achievements in the history of human thought' were scarce and badly needed in Britain. Also, it will become clear from a closer look at both Brose's biography and the tense political situation between Britain and Germany shortly after the Great War, that hardly any of those works would have made its way into England so promptly (if at all) if not for Brose's enormous personal efforts and dedication. This paper retraces Brose's role as a translator and promotor of general relativity in its early days, thus shedding light on the mechanisms of knowledge transfer during and after the First World War.

During the last two decades the interests of scholars of early drama and of urban historians have found common ground in the study of urban celebration and ceremonial. For the student of early drama the beginnings of this interest coincided with a redefinition of the area and nature of the study of early drama, a shift in emphasis from the textual and literary problems of the few extant dramatic texts to the circumstances and conditions of their performance. Signalled in the mid-1950s by F.M. Salter's revealing study of the production of Chester's Whitsun plays, this movement gained impetus from Glynne Wickham's investigations of the development of English stagecraft between 1300 and 1660, the first volume of which appeared in 1959, which illustrated the interdependence of a range of ostensibly disparate activities, such as plays, royal entries and tournaments. Then, in the 1970s an iconoclastic challenge to traditional theories about the staging of mystery plays was mounted by Alan H. Nelson, drawing upon various local records, and from the resulting controversies was born a new initiative, the Records of Early English Drama, whose avowed purpose is ‘to find, transcribe, and publish external evidence of dramatic, ceremonial, and minstrel activity in Great Britain before 1642’. That series is still ongoing and already constitutes a major primary resource of regional documentary transcripts for all interested in early dramatic and quasidramatic activity, suggesting a hitherto unsuspected diversity and frequency of dramatic activity throughout England.

In this work, three fundamental discoveries of the Ukraine-born Prof. George A. Gamow are presented from a single scientific and methodological point of view. Each of them is truly worth of the Nobel Prize – the most prestigious recognition of achievements of a scientist. We trace the emergence of G. Gamow as one of the most outstanding scientists of the twentieth century – encyclopaedist, theoretical physicist by heart, astrophysicist and biophysicist, talented and brilliant popularizer of science, whose works are readable in one go, as well as the author of unforgettable pranks and jokes. Gamow was a Fellow of the Danish Royal Academy of Sciences, the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, the International Astronomical Union, the American Physical Society, an honorary doctor of countless universities. Although his name is little known in Ukraine, the history of science would be incomplete without him. From an early age G. Gamow has shown a great interest in scientific research, using a microscope to look for erythrocytes and a telescope to observe the Halley comet. He graduated from the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics of Leningrad State University, where he followed classes of Professor O. Friedman, founder of the evolutionary cosmology. He has undergone training at the University of Goettingen, the center of theoretical physics at the time, worked for Nobel Prize winners Professors E. Rutherford and N. Bohr. At the age of 28, G. Gamow, by the recommendation of academician V. Vernadskyi, became the member of the Academy of Sciences of USSR, the youngest member in the entire history of its existence. Throughout his life, G. Gamow was interested in the fundamental scientific problems and made numerous world-class discoveries that are written by golden letters in the treasury of the human civilization. He has found explanation to the E. Rutherford’s experiments with alpha particles (tunnelling effect); introduced the empirical formula of Geiger – Nettoll, connecting the energy of alpha particles to the half-life of radioactive nuclei. G. Gamow is one of the pioneers of the liquid-drop model of a nucleus, and the application of nuclear physics to the evolution of stars. He proposed a fantastic hypothesis about the early universe, suggesting it being not only super dense but also very hot. He also built the Big Bang theory, which led to the existence of relic radiation (space microwave background) with the characteristic temperature of 5–7 degrees above the absolute zero, detected by methods of radio astronomy. He proposed a triplet model of the genetic code - the alphabet of life with three-letter words, experimentally proven by X-ray structural studies of DNA and empirically established rules of E. Chargaff. These discoveries have greatly contributed not only to the development of the modern science, but to the industrial and economic expansion of humanity.

In the paper, the author has examined the principles of design and structure of key content-thematic chapters (“Sexuality”, “Identity”, “Finance”, “War/Terrorism”, etc.) in one of the fundamental literary compendiums of the recent years – “The Routledge Companion to Twenty-First Century Literary Fiction”. This edition proposes a scientific systematization of key issues related to the discourse of English-language literature of the XXI Century. The authors of the chapters pay attention to the genre of the novel, which represents the key philosophical, genological, narrative modifications in the stream of the contemporary fiction of Great Britain, the United States and some other countries. “The Routledge Companion…” summarizes the logic of the development of the contemporary literary process in English-speaking countries, emphasizing the forms of distancing from the postmodern novel and defining those worldviews, narratives and otheraspects that give grounds to talk about the emergence of the novel, which reflects a new cultural and historical period, different from the postmodern configurations. It was found out that the editors of the compendium seek to capture the logic of the literary process, while combining historical and literary facts with the delineation of theoretical problems that are reflected in the literary process. Innovative aspects have been identified, the question of the anthropocene has been outlined, the genre of comics and graphic novels and the stream of the contemporary literature has been studied, the theory of realism(s), etc. has been outlined, the way the literary compendium inspires further development of the humanities has been studied. The principles of structuring theoretical problems, the relationship between history, literary theory and philosophy of literature as key factors determining the epistemological basis of the publication have been discussed. “The Routledge Companion…” summarizes key issues related to the humanities in general and cultural studies, phenomenology and anthropology, and, therefore, the compendium is based on a comparative approach (in the broadest sense) involved in writing a 21st century history of literature. The work was prepared within the framework of the Program and Competitive Themes of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine “Support of Priority Scientific Research and Scientific-Technical (Experimental) Developments of the Department of Literature, Language, and Arts of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine for 2022-2023”. Title: “Scientific and conceptual principles of contemporary literary encyclopedias: world experience”.

The article reveals the experience of using a master class on academic vocal as a form of activation of the educational process in urban institutions of higher education in Ukraine. Since Ukrainian scholars have not identified theoretical works on the role of master classes in the educational process in the vocal sphere, the disclosure of experience, which is the purpose of our article, should update the development of methodological and methodical principles of research. It has been established that over the last decade the form of master classes has been increasingly used by domestic vocal teachers. The experience of their holding at the Mykola Lysenko Lviv National Academy of Music, the Institute of Arts of the Borys Hrinchenko Kyiv University and the Vasyl Stefanyk Precarpathian National University with the participation of leading foreign opera singers, most of whom are of Ukrainian origin, was summarized. All of them worked on master classes on a volunteer basis. In Lviv they were conducted by the professor from the Academy of Music (Norway), world-famous singer (tenor) Carlo Allemano, in Kyiv – world-famous opera singer (lyric-coloratura soprano) Victoria Lukianets from Vienna, in Ivano-Frankivsk – also world-famous opera singer (baritone) Pavlo Gunka (Great Britain), young singers, soloists of Polish opera theaters Iryna Zhytynska and Stanislav Kufliuk. In each case, the duration of master classes lasted from one to seven days, the number of participants was 4–30 people. A pre-studied program of 1–3 works (aria, solo songs, folk song) was chosen for the work. Some teachers paid more attention to technical problems in voice production, others – to the artistic image, associations, understanding of the works performed. The structure of the master classes included: 1) demonstration by a recognized singer-mentor of his skills and his understanding of the problem in a practical form; 2) involvement of the student in active activity on mastering of skill under the control of the expert; 3) publicity, ie the presence of a wide audience (teachers, students, journalists), who perceived the process of communication between the master and his wards, and who joined this process, asking questions and demanding explanations. The organizational and semantic aspects of the use of master classes in academic vocal in higher educational institutions in the field of art are in need of further consideration.

AbstractAry Scheffer (1795-1858) is so generally included in the French School (Note 2)- unsurprisingly, since his career was confined almost entirely to Paris - that the fact that he was born and partly trained in the Netherlands is often overlooked. Yet throughout his life he kept in touch with Dutch colleagues and drew part of his inspiration from Dutch traditions. These Dutch aspects are the subject of this article. The Amsterdam City Academy, 1806-9 Ary Scheffer was enrolled at the Amsterdam Academy on 25 October 1806, his parents falsifying his date of birth in order to get him admitted at the age of eleven (fifteen was the oficial age) . He started in the third class and in order to qualify for the second he had to be one of the winners in the prize drawing contest. Candidates in this were required to submit six drawings made during the months January to March. Although no-one was supposed to enter until he had been at the Academy for four years, Ary Scheffer competed in both 1808 and 1809. Some of his signed drawings are preserved in Dordrecht. (Figs. 1-5 and 7), along with others not made for the contest. These last in particular are interesting not only because they reveal his first prowess, but also because they give some idea of the Academy practice of his day. Although the training at the Academy broadly followed the same lines as that customary in France, Italy and elsewhere (Note 4), our knowledge of its precise content is very patchy, since there was no set curriculum and no separate teachers for each subject. Two of Scheffer's drawings (Figs. 2 and 3) contain extensive notes, which amount to a more or less complete doctrine of proportion. It is not known who his teacher was or what sources were used, but the proportions do not agree with those in Van der Passe's handbook, which came into vogue in the 18th century, or with those of the canon of a Leonardo, Dürer or Lebrun. One gets the impression that what are given here are the exact measurements of a concrete example. Scheffer's drawings show him gradually mastering the rudiments of art. In earlier examples the hatching is sometimes too hasty (Fig. 4) or too rigidly parallel (Fig.5), while his knowledge of anatomy is still inadequate and his observation not careful enough. But right from the start he shows flair and as early as 1807 he made a clever drawing of a relatively complex group (Fig. 6) , while the difficult figure of Marsyas was already well captured in 1808 and clearly evinces his growing knowledge o f anatomy, proportion , foreshortening and the effects of light (Fig. 7). The same development can be observed in his portrait drawings. That of Gerardus Vrolik (1775-1859, Fig.8), a professor at the Atheneum Illustre (the future university) and Scheffer' s teacher, with whom he always kept in touch (Note 6), is still not entirely convincing, but a portrait of 1809, thought to be of his mother (Fig.9, Note 7), shows him working much more systematically. It is not known when he left the Academy, but from the summer of 1809 we find him in France, where he was to live with only a few breaks from 1811 to his death. The first paintings and the Amsterdam exhibitions of 1808 and 1810 Ary Scheffer's earliest known history painting, Hannibal Swearing to Avenge his Brother Hasdrubal's Death (Fig. 10) Notes 8-10) was shown at the first exhibition of living masters in Amsterdam in 1808. Although there was every reason for giving this subject a Neo-Classical treatment, the chiaroscuro, earthy colours and free brushwork show Scheffer opting for the old Dutch tradition rather than the modern French style. This was doubtless on the prompting of his parents,for a comment in a letter from his mother in 1810 (Note 12) indicates that she shared the reservations of the Dutch in general about French Neo-Classicism. (Note 11). As the work of a twelve to thirteen year old, the painting naturally leaves something to be desired: the composition is too crowded and unbalanced and the anatomy of the secondary figures rudimentary. In a watercolour Scheffer made of the same subject, probably in the 1820's, he introduced much more space between the figures (Fig. 11, Note 13). Two portraits are known from this early period. The first, of Johanna Maria Verbeek (Fig. 12, Note 14), was done when the two youngsters were aged twelve. It again shows all the characteristics of an early work, being schematic in its simplicity, with some rather awkward details and inadequate plasticity. On the other hand the hair and earrings are fluently rendered, the colours harmonious and the picture has an undeniable charm. At the second exhibition of works by living masters in 1810, Ary Scheffer showed a 'portrait of a painter' (Fig. 13), who was undoubtedly his uncle Arnoldus Lamme, who also had work in the exhibition as did Scheffer's recently deceased father Johan-Bernard and his mother Cornelia Scheffer-Lamme, an indication of the stimulating surroundings in which he grew up. The work attracted general attention (Note 16) and it does, indeed, show a remarkable amount of progress, the plasticity, effects of light, brushwork and colour all revealing skill and care in their execution. The simple, bourgeois character of the portrait not only fits in with the Dutch tradition which Scheffer had learned from both his parents in Amsterdam, but also has points in common with the recent developments in France, which he could have got to know during his spell in Lille from autumn 1809 onwards. A Dutchman in Paris Empire and Restoration, 1811-30 In Amsterdam Scheffer had also been laught by his mother, a miniature painter, and his father, a portrait and history painter (Note 17). After his father's death in June 1809, his mother, who not only had a great influence on his artistic career, but also gave his Calvinism and a great love of literature (Note 18), wanted him to finish his training in Paris. After getting the promise of a royal grant from Louis Napoleon for this (Note 19) and while waiting for it to materialize, she sent the boy to Lille to perfect his French as well as further his artistic training. In 1811 Scheffer settled in Paris without a royal grant or any hope of one. He may possibly have studied for a short time under Prudhon (Note 20) , but in the autumn of 1811 he was officially contracted as a pupil of Guérin, one of the leading artists of the school of David, under whom he mastered the formulas of NeD-Classicism, witness his Orpheus and Eurydice (Fïg.14), shown in the Salon of 1814. During his first ten years in Paris Scheffer also painted many genre pieces in order, so he said, to earn a living for himself and his mother. Guérin's prophecy that he would make a great career as a history painter (Note 21) soon came true, but not in the way Guérin thought it would, Scheffer participating in the revolution initiated by his friends and fellow-pupils, Géricault and Delacroix, which resulted in the rise of the Romantic Movement. It was not very difficult for him to break with Neo-Classicism, for with his Dutch background he felt no great affinity with it (Note 22). This development is ilustrated by his Gaston de Foix Dying on the Battlefield After his Victory at Ravenna, shown at the Salon of 1824, and The Women of Souli Throwing Themselves into the Abyss (Fig.15), shown at that of 1827-8. The last years of the Restoration and the July Monarchy. Influence of Rembrandt and the Dutch masters In 1829, when he seemed to have become completely assimilated in France and had won wide renown, Scheffer took the remarkable step of returning to the Netherlands to study the methods of Rembrandt and other Dutch old masters (Note 23) . A new orientation in his work is already apparent in the Women of Souli, which is more harmonious and considered in colour than the Gaston dc Foix (Note 24). This is linked on the one hand to developments in France, where numbers of young painters had abandoned extreme Romanticism to find the 'juste milieu', and on the other to Scheffer's Dutch background. Dutch critics were just as wary of French Romanticism as they had been of Neo-Classicism, urging their own painters to revive the traditions of the Golden Age and praising the French painters of the 'juste milieu'. It is notable how many critics commented on the influence of Rembrandt on Scheffer's works, e.g. his Faust, Marguérite, Tempête and portrait of Talleyrand at the Salon of 1851 (Note 26). The last two of these date from 1828 and show that the reorientation and the interest in Rembrandt predate and were the reasons for the return to the Netherlands in 1829. In 1834 Gustave Planche called Le Larmoyeur (Fig. 16) a pastiche of Rembrandt and A. Barbier made a comparable comment on Le Roi de Thule in 1839 (Note 27). However, as Paul Mantz already noted in 1850 (Note 28), Scheffer certainly did not fully adopt Rembrandt's relief and mystic light. His approach was rather an eclectic one and he also often imbued his work with a characteristically 19th-century melancholy. He himself wrote after another visit to the Netherlands in 1849 that he felt he had touched a chord which others had not attempted (Note 29) . Contacts with Dutch artists and writers Scheffer's links with the Netherlands come out equally or even more strongly in the many contacts he maintained there. As early as 1811-12 Sminck-Pitloo visited him on his way to Rome (Note 30), to be followed in the 1820's by J.C. Schotel (Note 31), while after 1830 as his fame increased, so the contacts also became more numerous. He was sought after by and corresponded with various art dealers (Note 33) and also a large number of Dutch painters, who visited him in Paris or came to study under him (Note 32) Numerous poems were published on paintings by him from 1838 onwards, while Jan Wap and Alexander Ver Huell wrote at length about their visits to him (Note 34) and a 'Scheffer Album' was compiled in 1859. Thus he clearly played a significant role in the artistic life of the Netherlands. International orientation As the son of a Dutch mother and a German father, Scheffer had an international orientation right from the start. Contemporary critics and later writers have pointed out the influences from English portrait painting and German religious painting detectable in his work (Note 35). Extracts from various unpublished letters quoted here reveal how acutely aware he was of what was likely to go down well not only in the Netherlands, but also in a country like England, where he enjoyed great fame (Notes 36-9) . July Monarchy and Second Empire. The last decades While most French artists of his generation seemed to have found their definitive style under the July Monarchy, Scheffer continued to search for new forms of expression. In the 1830's, at the same time as he painted his Rembrandtesque works, he also produced his famous Francesca da Rimini (Fig. 17), which is closer to the 'juste milieu' in its dark colours and linear accents. In the 1840's he used a simple and mainly bright palette without any picturesque effects, e.g. in his SS. Augustine and Monica and The Sorrows of the Earth (Note 41), but even this was not his last word. In an incident that must have occurred around 1857 he cried out on coming across some of his earlier works that he had made a mistake since then and wasted his time (Note 42) and in his Calvin of 1858 (Fig. 18) he resumed his former soft chiaroscuro and warm tones. It is characteristic of him that in that same year he painted a last version of The Sorrows of the Earth in the light palette of the 1840's. Despite the difficulty involved in the precise assessment of influences on a painter with such a complex background, it is clear that even in his later period, when his work scored its greatest successes in France, England and Germany, Scheffer always had a strong bond with the Netherlands and that he not only contributed to the artistic life there, but always retained a feeling for the traditions of his first fatherland. Appendix An appendix is devoted to a study of the head of an old man in Dordrecht, which is catalogued as a copy of a 17th-century painting in the style of Rembrandt done by Ary Scheffer at the age of twelve (Fig.19, Note 43). This cannot be correct, as it is much better than the other works by the twelve-year-old painter. Moreover, no mention is made of it in the catalogue of the retrospective exhibition held in Paris in 1859, where the Hannibal is given as his earliest work (Note 44). It was clearly unknown then, as it is not mentioned in any of the obituaries of 1858 and 1859 either. The earliest reference to it occurs in the list made bv Scheffer's daughter in 1897 of the works she was to bequeath to the Dordrecht museum. A clue to its identification may be a closely similar drawing by Cornelia Scheffer-Lamme (Fig. 20, Note 46), which is probably a copy after the head of the old man. She is known to have made copies after contemporary and 17th-century masters. The portrait might thus be attributable to Johan-Bernard Scheffer, for his wife often made copies of his works and he is known from sale catalogues to have painted various portraits of old men (Note 47, cf. Fig.21). Ary Scheffer also knew this. In 1839 his uncle Arnoldus Lamme wrote to him that he would look out for such a work at a sale (Note 48). It may be that he succeeded in finding one and that this portrait came into the possession of the Scheffer family in that way, but Johan-Bernard's work is too little known for us to be certain about this.