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The history, art history and architecture of Britain and its Empire, Europe, the Mediterranean and North America, 1640-1940.
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    Thomas Guthrie was born in Arbroath Scotland in 1803, 12th child of his father David, a merchant and banker. The young Thomas went to Edinburgh University at 12 where he studied as a divinity student, then studied surgery and anatomy. In 1829 Guthrie was appointed to a parish where he intro­duced classes for young people every Sabbath. He also started a village library.

    In 1837, Guthrie became minister at the Old Greyfriars Kirk in Edinburgh where he saw at first hand the ragged children who lived by begging and stealing. Presumably he knew of Sheriff Watson in Aberdeen who had formed his Industrial Feeding School in 1841. Guthrie converted a room beneath the church as a kitchen and he soon had his first class going. Within a year he had started three Ragged Schools in Edinburgh! In his 1847 pamphlet Plea for Ragged Schools, Rev Guthrie described a unique curriculum - education, meals, clothes, industrial training and Christian instruction. Pupils learned cobbling, tailoring and cooking. And by doing jobs for local shops, the children could earn a small wage and learn its value. The effect was to clear the streets and prisons of young beggars.

    Ragged Schools provided free education for children too poor to re­ceive it elsewhere but they were not pretty. Charles Dickens thought a particular London Ragged School was the most wretched place he’d ever seen. By 1841 c2 million people lived in London, but with­out compulsory schooling only a fract­ion of them had attended school. The Empire was expanding, but much of London was still impoverished.

    Barnardo's Hope Place Ragged School, 

    Edinbugh Castle Mission, London 1909

    The London City Mission was founded in 1835 by Scottish missionary David Nasmith and his colleagues to bring free education and Christ­ian good to London’s children. In 1840 the Mission received finan­cial and political support from the ref­or­mer Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftsbury. Reports were from the Children’s Employment Commission were read in Parliament­, detailing the horror of child labour in Brit­ain: low pay, long hours & dangerous work conditions exper­ienced by child­ren working in mines and collieries.

    Field Lane Ragged School opened in 1842. The school consisted of two or three miserable rooms where ragged, filthy chil­dren huddled together on a bench. Not to be trusted with books, the pupils were taught orally by a voluntary teacher. By the 1850s Field Lane consisted of a day school, which taught reading, writing, counting and the Bible; two night schools, one for vagrant adults and another for boys who were employed during the day. There were classes in shoe-making and tailoring for boys, and sewing classes for girls. Field Lane also fed and clothed its students, ran a night refuge and a weekend Bible school. Evangelical Christianity was at the heart of Ragged schooling! 

    In 1844 the Ragged School Union was founded as a movement of in­div­idual schools, sustained by charity or government grants. In under a decade, 300+ free schools for poor children were estab­lished in Britain. London, Aberdeen, Dundee and Edinburgh of course, but Manchester, Liverpool and other cities became equally important.

    There was criticism. Dickens thought the movement was not secular enough.

    In 1850 journalist Henry Mayhew noted ongoing juvenile delinqu­ency. In his 1851 report, London Labour and the London Poor, Mayhew noted the Mudlarks who traipsed along the banks of the Thames looking for coal, copper and rope scraps to sell. Few of these children had been to church or school. Indeed, due to their acts of petty theft brought about by hunger, they were often in prison.

    Many poor families believed the classes on offer were irrelevant, so the Ragged School Union began to establish Brigades for boys in 1857. These groups provided certified jobs in street vending or shoe shining, with a proportion of the boys’ earnings being placed in a personal bank account. The police approved.

    statue of Rev Thomas Guthrie,
    Princes Street Edinburgh

    Ragged Industrial Schools were intended to help destitute children who had not as yet committed any serious crime. They’d remove the children from bad influences and teach them a useful trade. Under the 1857 Industrial Schools Act, magistrates could send child­ren who had been found in the company of criminals or were begging, to attend residential Ragged Industrial Schools for two years. 

    Were the Ragged Schools popular among the poorest in society? In the Ragged School Union’s Annual Report for 1857, only 21,500 out of London’s half a million children had attended their lessons. Eventually Parliament agreed that Ragged schooling alone would not solve the problems. The introduction of univ­ersal, compulsory schooling in London under the 1870 Education Act finally arrived.

    The Jews' Free School in Spitalfields, in London’s East End, taught c20,000 pupils between 1856-1907. By 1900, the school had 4,250: it was the largest school in Europe. .Since my grand­moth­er lived in Whitechapel, sharing the two rooms with the 12 other people in her impoverished family, I must invest­igate her Jews’ Free School detailed records. Grandma went on to become a singer/dancer in the three Yiddish Theatres AND in the English-speaking pantomimes. So for at least my family, the Free School did a great job.

    Jews' Free School
    Spitalfields, London

    Ragged School Museum
    Copperfield Rd, London

    When Thomas Barnardo left Dublin for London in 1866, intending to be a doctor/missionary in China, he found a city where disease was rife, overcrowding were endemic, and educational opport­unities for the poor were still inadequate. Thousands of children had to sleep on the streets and others were forced to beg after being maimed in factories. Worse still was the cholera epidemic that swept through the East End, leaving 3,000 Londoners dead.

    He gave up his medical training to pursue his local missionary and philanthropy works and in 1867 opened his first ragged school, Copperfield Road School in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets. Copperfield Road School (and his other properties in the East End) educated tens of thousands of chil­­dren over the years. It only closed in 1908 when enough gov­ern­ment schools were available to serve the loc­al famil­ies (although the Factory Girls’ Club lasted until 1916). Was this the last Ragged School to close?

     A group of 3 canal-side buildings once formed the largest ragged school in London, Barnardo’s. These 3 buildings later went through a variety of industrial uses until they were threatened with demolition in the early 1980s. Local people joined together to save them and The Ragged School Museum opened in 1990. Visitors can see lessons taught in an auth­entic Victorian classroom; and they can inpsect the recreated Victorian kitchen with no electricity or running water.

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    Australia invented surf life saving, pavlova, rotary clothes hoists, plastic bank notes and black box flight recorders. But now I want to concentrate on cochlear implants.

    How did the deaf communicate? Before the French priest Michel de l’Epée devised sign language in the C18th, the deaf were written off as useless citizens. For the first time, the priest had demonstrated that deaf people were no less intelligent than their peers. The C19th saw the creation of the world’s first hearing aids, based on Alex­ander Bell’s tele­phone. They were clumsy, and although there have been enormous improve­ments with time, hearing aids could not reproduce high frequencies - they could only amplify residual hearing. The result was that many deaf people cont­inued to use sign language, combined with lip reading.

    This was the situation until the early 1980s when Dr William Gibson became aware of the cochlear experiments. Now we need to read Bill Gibson: Pioneering Bionic Ear Surgeon written by Tina Allen, 2017.

    Bill and his identical twin were born (in 1944) in the British city of Devon, into a family of doctors. Their father was still fighting the war in France! Bill Gibson eventually decided he wanted to be a doctor, moving to study in London in the 1960s. Later, as a medical graduate, he specialised in London in otology-ear surgery. Gibson was eventually one of the top Ears, Nose and Throat consultants in the UK.

    There was already a primitive version of the bionic ear available in Britain but it provided only a dot-dash sort of sound. Developing this into a multi-channel device that could convert sounds into el­ec­tronic impulses that the brain could hear was progress.

    Cochlear implant in a young child
    photo credit: SCIC Cochlear Implant Programme, NSW

    Bill knew about Australia’s Prof Graeme Clark's research into cochlear implants, work that was largely dismissed in the UK. In particular, Prof Graeme Clark and his team in Melbourne University’s Otolaryngology Department swere examining ways of using new technology to help deaf people. They focused on the cochlea, the part of the ear that passed sounds to the brain.

    Underst­anding the potential of the Melbourne work, Gibson saw the opp­ortunity to join his surgical skills to the device. The Gibson family emigrated to Australia. It was great that Prof Graeme Clark was very supportive of the recent British arrivals and it was great that Bill’s twin brother had already mar­ried an Australian.

    In Australia, Julia Patrick noted, the Melbourne ENT hierarchy regarded Prof Clark as eccentric and his work futile; appar­ent­ly they considered the idea of following speech without lip reading and signing to be silly. Fortunately the Uni­versity of Sydney was open to individual research, so Gibson applied for, and accepted the first Professorship of Otolaryngology/ENT at Sydney Univers­ity.

    Encouraged by a small group of perceptive supporters at Sydney’s Royal Prince Alfred Hospital (spouse’s alma mater), Gibson received the green light to go ahead: two patients successfully received the first cochlear implants in 1984.

    Surgically inserted in the ear of these two patients, the implants did not actually cure deafness; it was a prosthetic substitute for hearing that did the work of the damaged hair cells of the inner ear, the cochlea, to send sound signals to the brain. When it worked, there was a great excitement, seeing the joy on the face of deaf patients when they realised they were part of a hearing world.

    There were inevitable failures as the medical teams learned more about distinguishing between patients who were suitable for implants and those who were not, but the profession noted clear progress. The device became compact and Gibson developed a way to implant it.

    The first generation of recipients were people who had lost their hearing in adulthood, because they understood the concept of spoken communication. Gibson believed that while restoring hearing to adults was important, the focus should be on youngsters who had been deaf from birth and had never learned to speak. By the age of 7, their speech organs would have effectively atrophied.

    By 1986 the cochlear team in Sydney had successfully carried out 20 implants for adults and Gibson was ready, willing and able to perform the surgery on congenitally deaf children. If they received an implant from 9-18 months of age, speech would naturally follow hear­ing. Gibson chose a four-year-old girl for an implant in 1987, which involved convincing medical regulators that the process was ethical and practical. She was the first paed­iatric recipient of the Australian-designed bionic ear in the world. This brave little girl learned to both und­erstand and use speech.

    When Dr Gibson controversially decided to implant cochlear devices in children, he received many letters criticising the plan. One group in particular, The Signing Deaf Group, believed that cong­enital deafness should not be seen as a disease to be cured. Instead the focus should be on signing, itself a valid alternative language.

    Gibson’s goal was now to identify babies born deaf, allowing them to have an implant. With Gibson’s persuasion, NSW initiated a success­ful early-detection programme, now Australia-wide. With a cochlear implant, children born congenitally deaf could go to a regular school and lead the life of a normal child. Between 1984 and 2014, he performed the bionic ear operation 2000+ times!

    Bill Gibson: Pioneering Bionic Ear Surgeon 
    written by Tina Allen, 
    published by NewSouth Publishing in 2017.

    More recent progress
    Dr Gibson helped establish Cochlear Implant Club and Advisory Ass­ociation, a group that enabled implant recipients to meet regul­arly, providing support to each other and feedback to doctors. And to obtain funding for specialist facilities and post-op therapy.

    The vital personal accounts of 40 of Professor Gibson’s patients are included in the Australian chapters of the biography. The book also considered the issues Dr Gibson experienced in establishing a top class cochlear implant programme, known today as the Sydney Cochlear Implant Centre. The twelve branches of the Centre were one of the many legacies of his career. Another success was the small incision he developed for cochlear implant surgery, to reduce wound breakdown to practic­ally zero. Plus he advised a NSW Minis­t­erial Committee on the best screening test to be used in hospital on new-born infants.

    Prof Gibson is now overseeing research into the cause and cure for the debilitating Menière’s Disease. This condition of the ear has resisted medical knowledge since the cond­ition was first identified in France in 1861 by Prosper Menière. Sydney now has the first laboratory in the world dedicated solely to Menière’s Disease Research.

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    Thank you for the nominations. Let me know which you enjoyed most.

    The late Norman “Little Malvern Priory Church” was ready in 1171. In 1480 the Church & lodgings were ruined, so Bishop Alcock had the site re­paired. See Cherie’s Place.

    "The Literal Bones of the World" is in Myths 'n Monsters.

     “Cold Sea Bathing in the Georgian Era” is in Geri Walton. Its therapeutic properties were most helpful for those who indulged in idleness or debauchery. The salt was important.

    In A Visitor's Guide to Victorian England, “Victorian Crime: Murder in the Suburbs” noted that crime was low. Yet in the early 1880s, there were two Manchester murders that had an uncanny link with shocking events c30 years later.

    “Meet the Man Who Saved Kenilworth Castle” is in English Heritage Blog. Sir John Siddeley bought the castle in the 1930s and made it public. See his story and see the exhibition of Armstrong Siddeley’s cars and planes.

    The British royal family dropped their German surname in 1917 and refashioned themselves. The equivalent anti-German campaign in South Australia is in “The Centenary of the House of Windsor 1917–2017”, in History Matrix.

    Fitzrovia, London” in To Discover Ice tells of the suburb that became a artistic and bohemian community. Centred around Fitzroy Square, the area celebrates historic pubs, restaurants, media companies and literary homes.

    In Heritage Bulletin, “Tothill Street, our first Headquarters” showed how the Women’s Voluntary Services for Air Raid Precautions was founded in 1938. The hidden histories of one million wartime women have been digitised.

    Little Malvern Priory Church

    "Material Culture from Below" in the many-headed monsterAn Early Modern Europe Conference talked of methods used in material cultural history of the gentry-aristocracy. But what about the common people? 

     By 1775 rebellion entered New York’s Albany County. Armed night watches and prisons intimidated British loyalists."In Addition to Disarming Them...” in  Historical Nerdery.

    "New England’s Darkest Day" appears in The New York History Blog. “Solar Eclipse Tips From John Quincy Adams” is published in Plodding Through the Presidents.

    See The Secret Victorianist for “Governors Island: Castle William NYC”. Built to stave off British attacks that never occurred, Castle Williams became barracks for Civil War Union soldiers. Then it had new uses.

    Regarding the popularity of cycling in 1900 and the laws that the riders broke, see"Breaking the Law on Two Wheels" in The Chemung County Historical Society.

    In Mental Floss see “A Forgotten George Gershwin Musical just made its American Debut”. In 1982, crates of musical manus­cripts by Porter, Rodgers & Gershwin were discovered in New Jersey. His 1924 musical Primrose was discussed.

    “Webster Hall Will Return” was published in The Bowery Boys. From 1886, the hall hosted the Greenwich Village Ball till the 1930s, a dancing bacchanalia for artists, bohemians and drag queens. It's now a New York City landmark.

    “Laundry Methods During the American Revolution” is in 17th Regt. of In­fantry in America. See a] formal guides to wash­ing laundry b] civilian & military notations about laund­ering in the American colonies, and c] personal observations.

    With Jim Crow restrictions, African Americ­ans were barred from mainstream holidays. From 1890-1960s, special coastal re­sorts arose, a haven against racism! "Summer Resorts Once Offered African Americans” is in Edwardian Promenade.

    Naomi Clifford wrote “The Eruption of La Soufrière on the West Indian Island of St Vincent” in 1812. Alas the British were preoccupied with imm­in­ent naval war against the US. Worse, St Vincent was the centre of the Anglo-French War.

    “A Montesorri School, Tchai­kovsky and a Murder” is in Daytonian in Manhattan. The Queen Anne style, 4-storey brick-stone dwellings were in West 74th St NY. Read of the different owners, illegal speak­easies and a 1932 murder.

    144 W 74th St, Manhattan

    Massachusetts Historical Society’s Center for Teaching History hosts workshops for teachers seeking to incorporate primary sources and contemporary historical scholarship. See  "Teaching #HistSex" in Medical Heritage Library

    MUSEOLOGY  Blog of the Courtier talks of “Finding fakes: new museum confronts old problem head-on”. With newer scholarship, San Francisco’s Mexican Museum has discovered that some of its prize possessions may be unreliable.

    “Who should own the Koh i Noor Diamond?” is in Art and Architecture, mainly. Nations in Central Asia will be in court over this diamond. When does an historical treasure need to be repatriated abroad? And to which country?

    WAR “The Barge Canal: New York’s Patriotic Contribution to WWI” appears in The Friends of Schoharie Crossing.

    The Second World War Research Group has a] "French Recruitment of Colonial Soldiers in Morocco after German Occupation of Paris”; b] "When Britain meets Free France: Coalition Warfare in French Equatorial Africa" and c] “The Italian Navy and Japan: Strategy and Hopes, 1937-1942”.

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    Mark A. Landis (born 1955) was born in Virginia but was constantly on the move with his Navy father. At age 17, the young man suffered a schizophrenic breakdown when his beloved father died. Art therapy helped, so Mark enrolled in School of the Art Institute of Chicago and then San Francisco Art Institute. But neither lasted for long.

    Landis became a forger who tricked 50 unsuspecting museums across 20 American states. He covered the USA, donating counterfeit art to museums, but not to enrich himself or to ridicule the establishment. Instead his goal was to be viewed as a philanthropist, gaining family respect. I must admit that to be a convincing forger, Landis must have been a talented artist in his own right . He "created" works in oil, watercolour, pastels, chalk, ink and pencil, making most of his copies from museum or auction catalogues that provided dimensions and information on the originals.

    Associated Press said that Landis, who has occasionally dressed as a Jesuit priest or posed as a wealthy donor driving up in a red Cadillac, apparently never took money for his forgeries and has never been arrested. Eventually his works were collected into their own satirical exhibit called Faux Real which was held on April Fools' Day 2012 at the University of Cincinnati.

    Educating people about forgery and letting people know about Landis was the only way to stop him, said the director of the Paul and Lulu Hilliard University Art Museum in Lafayette La. This museum had been duped in 2010 with a Landis donation of a work supposedly painted by American Charles Courtney Curran.

    He bestowed gifts under different names such as the Father Arthur Scott, the alias he used at Hilliard. In that case, he told officials that his dead mother had left works including Curran's 1894  oil-on-wood painting Three Women and that he was donating it in her memory. Museum employees became suspicious when Landis kept changing the subject under questioning and quickly concluded it was a forgery.

    Portrait of  a woman  by Mark Landis.
    Supposedly a work by C19th  French painter William-Adolphe Bouguereau.  
    The fake was shown at the University of Cincinnati exhibition.

    Landis vaguely acknowledged his trickery. He told The Associated Press he made his first forgery donation to a California museum in 1985. "They were so nice. I just got used to that, and one thing led to another. It never occurred to me that anyone would think it was wrong." Oh really??

    The Cincinnati exhibit of 40 works given to 15 museums grew to c100, as soon as Landis donated 60 pieces he possessed, along with his priest's outfit. The Faux Real show depicted famous art forgers, details of how Landis made donations and ways of detecting fakes. Visitors could view some works under ultraviolet light that caused sections to glow, if they contain contemporary ingredients.

    Art experts said not accepting payment for his forgeries helped keep Landis from ever being charged with a crime. However museum officials said there was a real price to pay - forgeries hurt their reputation and cost time and money researching suspected fraud.

    Landis typically targeted smaller museums that did not have the resources to thoroughly check donations. While museums did not pay Landis, some treated him to receptions and gifts, before realising the works were fakes.

    The exhibit used Landis’ story to show how forgeries occurred and demonstrated that institutions and the public should not take art at face value. The exhibit didn't increase the value of Landis' works — considered worthless except as educational tools on forgery — and the curators heard no objections to spotlighting his works. Landis was thrilled.

    Supposedly Portrait of a Young Woman by Jean-Honoré Fragonard c1769 Actually painted by by Mark Landis.

    Intent to Deceive: Fakes and Forgeries in the Art World (2015) was a ground-breaking exhibition at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art that highlighted 60+ works by some of the world’s most notorious con artists. It illuminated their dubious leg­acies and examined how their talents, charm and gall ensnared the art world of the C20th. Sev­eral ingenious forgers were profiled in this show, representing some of the most infamous scandals of our times. The exploits of Han van MeegerenElmyr de Hory, Eric Hebborn, John Myatt and Mark Landis had shaken the art world at various times, gathering each of them worldwide notoriety.

    Included in each forger’s profile were their original works, personal effects and ephemera, photos, film clips and representations of the material and techniques used to create these convincing fakes. Also included were original works of art by modern masters such as Henri Matisse, Amedeo Modigliani, Paul Sig­nac and others, shown alongside several of the world’s most accomp­lished art forgers - to test the viewers' perceptions of authenticity.

    Landis may be the most famous art counterfeiter who never committed a crime. But Landis implied the works were by Old Masters, he falsified documents and he used aliases. I think the exhibition of fakes was an excellent idea, but not for the reason given  i.e. “to educate the public about art forgery”; “to ensure that institutions and the public don't take art at face value”. We should be asking if, as long as a talented artist didn’t explicitly lie about his works coming from Old Masters, "have his fakes nonetheless devalued the Old Masters"?

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    The Jacobites, supporters of King James II, were the original opponents of the Glorious Revolution of 1688. The Act of Union in 1707 had led to the creation of Great Britain, with a single parliament at West­min­ster. Scotland did not adapt easily to this new relationship because, for many Scots, the union delivered misery and economic disadvantage. So half the nation want­ed to return to the independence of Stuart Scotland.

    For landed and business-minded Scots who had increased access to a new British trading empire, the Union was loved. And Presbyterian Scots, who were still fearful of popery, certainly did not want to see another Stuart king in Scotland.

    The Stuarts’ main strongholds remained in the Scottish Highlands and Islands. By the early C18th the Highlanders were not the only people looking to overthrow the British government; unhappy citizens on both sides of the border, including persecuted Irish Catholics and unhappy English Tories, shared the goal. And the Jacobite cause received support from France, Spain, Sweden, the Papacy and Russia, all of whom wanted to weaken the British government.

    Charles Edward Stuart aka Bonnie Prince Charlie (1720-88) was born in Rome, where his family had been living in exile. He was the grand­son of the deposed Catholic King James II who’d escaped the Protestant William of Orange's takeover in 1688. James’ grand­son soon became the popular focus of the Jacobite cause. However to the British government, the Young Pretender was just another rebel insurgent.

    In 1745, Charles left France for the Scottish Highlands to enlist the clans in rebellion against the proper Hanoverian British King George II. Charles’ plan was to make his father, James Francis Edward (1688–1766), the British king.

    At first the few clan chiefs Charles contacted showed little inter­est in the Stuarts. But the social structure of the Highland clans allowed him to raise a sizable body of men. At first the Stuart campaign went well. After the capt­ure of Edinburgh and assuring his forces that support was on its way from France, Charles marched south. They defeated the British gov­ernment’s army in East Lothian, then crossed into England and successfully laid siege to Carlisle then Derby. The “invaders” caused great anxiety in the south.

    Once it became clear that no help was coming from France, Charles retreat­ed to Scotland. After several more battles, in Ap 1646 they fought at Culloden Moor, near Inver­ness. The Duke of Cumberland’s 9,000-strong force immediately destr­oyed the Jacobite army of 5,000 Highlanders.

    silver travelling canteen
    made by Ebenezer Oliphant in 1740-1
    height 165 mm

    After the Rebellion, the Hanoverian British government decided to permanently end the Jacobite threat. Many Jacobites were imprisoned or executed; estates were forfeited, the clan system dis­mantled; weaponry, traditional dress and bagpipes were out­lawed. The powers that had underpinned the authority of clan chiefs over their clansmen were abolished. Charles survived the Battle of Culloden but became a fugitive for five months. He eventually escaped to France and never set foot in Scotland again.

    Once Bonnie Prince Charlie was permanently gone, the Jacobite cause quickly became a nostalgic theme, expressed through poetry and song, especially in Scotland.

    The National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh has a large exhibition from May-Nov 2017. The Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobites Exhibition includes 300+ objects, plus a selection of works on rare loan from the Vatican.

    the separate elements of the travelling canteen

    My favourite exhibit was a silver travelling canteen, filled with every implement a prince could possibly need. The outer case of the canteen was decorated with the 3-feathered badge of the Prince of Wales, while the lid was chased with bands of linked thistles, a figure of St Andrew and Charles’ motto. Because the so-called Prince of Wales was made a Knight of the Thistle shortly after his birth, the collar and badge of the Most Nobel Order of the Thistle was prominent. This was the highest hon­our in Scotland.

    The canteen set contained 31 pieces, includ­ing a perfectly fitted: wine-taster, cruet, teaspoon and marrow scoop, corkscrew, nutmeg grater, salt and pepper shakers, wine beakers, drink­ing bowl and a knife-fork set. The outer case, a beautiful example of rococo craftsmanship, was dec­orated with bands of linked thistles, flowers and leaves, repres­enting the collar of the Order of the Thistle.

    Charles brought the canteen with him to Scotland in 1745. When the Rebellion ended in Ap 1746 with the defeat of the Jacobite army at Culloden, the canteen was lost. The victorious government commander, William Duke of Cumb­er­land, captured the canteen and gave it to one of his aides, George Kepple, later the Earl of Albemarle. The silver canteen remained in his family until 1963; after a successful fundraising campaign to prev­ent it being sold abroad, it was finally acquired by the Museum in 1984.

    Who made the canteen? The entire extended family of Edinburgh goldsmith Ebenezer Oliphant were dedicated Jacobite soldiers or Jacobite lay supporters. This elaborate travelling set, made by Ebenezer Oliphant in 1740-41, seemed to have been a 21st birthday gift for Prince Charles.

    The Stewart Society was very proud of Oliphant who ended his apprenticeship in 1737. He had learned the skill from James Mitchellson, his master and the most gifted goldsmith in Scotland. I have seen other Oliphant silver art from the 1740s, largely clean, minimally decorated silver footed bowls, tea pots or salvers. By 1753 Ebenezer had prospered so well that he was able to help the family buy back the estates which had been forfeited after the 1746 defeat. Did he continue with richly decorated silver, like the canteen? Or was this a one-off art work, specially designed to proclaim Prince Charles’ right to the British throne?

    Alan Ramsay’s previously lost portrait of Bonnie Prince Charlie,
    Scottish National Portrait Gallery

    There are two ironies in this story. Firstly after having spent a total of only 14 months in his “homeland”, Prince Charles eventually escaped to France and never set foot in Scotland again. Secondly the greatest gold and silver artists EVER were Protestant Huguenots expelled in 1685 from France by the Catholic king, Louis XIV. How ironic that when Catholic Prince Charles wanted the best silver art in 1740, he had to commission the pieces from British silver artists.

    I never liked King James II, the Old Pretender, the Young Pretender or any part of the Jacobite cause, but I would sell my house and the beloved spouse’s soul to own that piece of Jacobite silver art.

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    Melbourne has become renowned as Aus­tral­ia’s cultural capital. Note Southbank’s Arts Prec­inct located next door to Southgate, stretching from the Yarra to the end of Sturt Street. Over the years it has become home to perform­ing arts com­p­anies, venues and galleries. This pedestrian-friendly Arts Precinct includes Sid­ney Myer Music Bowl (1959), the newest National Gallery Victoria building (1968), the city’s premier con­cert venue Hamer Hall (1982), Arts Centre Melb­ourne (1984) and its spire, Malthouse Theatre (1990), Australian Centre for Contemporary Art (2002), Melbourne Recital Centre (2009) and Melbourne Theatre Company’s Southbank Theatre (2009).

    The Melbourne Arts Precinct Blueprint 2014 is a co-ordinated app­roach to the future devel­op­ment of the precinct. The study has been co-ordinated by the key arts stakeholders: City of Melbourne, Arts Victoria and State Government. Whilst each individual org­anisation has its own plans for the future, the Blueprint sees the precinct as a coordinated plan for this part of the city. A vibrant South­bank precinct needs mixed-use act­ivities with a strong arts focus, vibrant street activity and energy. And as ever, tree-lined streets and beautiful Victorian buildings were/are well preserved.

    Was Melbourne’s Art Precinct based on the ideas of the City Beaut­iful Movement, imported from an overseas city? In the C19th, I might have examined the Vienna’s Ringstrasse. But in the C20th, I would be looking instead at Benjamin Franklin Parkway Philadelphia.

    St Kilda Rd, part of the Arts Precinct 

    At first Philadelphia’s Parkway was a bold dream by the architects who want­ed urban planning that could make Philadelphia very special. Fort­unately some institutions were already in place. The Cath­­edral Bas­ilica of Saints Peter and Paul, head church of the Rom­an Cath­olic Archdiocese, had been built on Logan Square, as far back as 1846-64 (by Napoleon LeBrun). As had the Academy of Natural Scien­ces had opened in 1876 (architect James Windrim).

    A formal Parkway plan was dev­el­oped in 1907 by Horace Trumbauer, Clarence Zantzinger and Paul Crét for the Fairmount Park Art Association. It was a region of educational activ­it­ies grouped around Logan Square as the central anchor, an art­istic centre developed around the Fairmount Plaza, at the entrance to Phil­ad­elphia’s best park. Work started in 1917, cutting a very wide (160’) corridor through Fair­­mount’s resid­ential housing. Philad­elphia had thus created a Champs Elysee-like boulevard that connected the centre city to Fairmount Park.

    Fortunately Philadelphia celebrated the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence in 1876 with America's first World's Fair. And the Philadelphia Museum of Art was originally chartered in 1876 for the World Fair. The City Council funded a competition in 1895 to de­sign a new museum building, and by 1907 arch­itectural plans from Zantzinger and Charles Borie started const­ruct­ion in the Fairmount Parkway. The main museum building opened in 1928. Across from the Museum’s main building, a newly renovated and expanded building opened in 2007.

    The Town Hall was completed in 1901. Designed by architects John McArthur, John Ord and Bleddyn Powell, it was the largest municipal building in the USA.

    The main branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia opened its main branch doors alongside Logan Square in 1927. The first section of the Pennsylvania Museum was opened in 1928 on the Parkway, designed by architects Borie, Trumbauer and Zant­zinger. It was renamed Philadelphia Museum of Art ten years later.

    The Rodin Museum opened on Parkway in 1929. The architects were Crét and Jacques Gréber.

    Designed by John Windrim, the Franklin Science Institute opened its new building on the Parkway in 1934-38, after 110 years in other Philadelphia locations. Note the imposing statue.

    As much time was put into transforming the Parkway outside (sculp­ture, gardens) as was put into the individual buildings’ architect­ure eg Swann Memorial Fountain was designed by sculptor Alexander Stirling Calder and comp­leted in 1924, as the centrepiece of Logan Square.

    I wasn't very interested in the secure detention Youth Study Centre which was constructed on the Parkway in 1952 (by J Roy Carroll, John Grisdale and William Van Alen). But I was fascinated in 2009 when the youth centre was demolished to make way for the Barnes Foundation which had been in Merion for decades. It opened in 2012.

    Moore College of Art and Design moved to its new campus on the Parkway in 1959. And was expanded in 2000.

    Other American cities were planning similar projects during those years, creating Amer­ica's first important contribution to urban design, the City Beautiful Movement. The city planners wanted a model of an orderly, classical metropolis, crossed by boule­vards and dominated by contemporary Beaux-Arts and neoclassical buildings. Phil­ad­elphia could rightly claim it met the urban challenges of the new era, with a grand boulevard evoking the energy of the C20th.

    Cath­­edral Bas­ilica of Saints Peter and Paul

    Washington Monument Fountain, Philadelphia
    facing down the Parkway.

    Philadelphia Museum of Art

    In 2009 critic Anthony Tommasini noted that if a sprawling multi-disciplinary performing-arts complex were proposed in a big city today, it would probably never be built. Talking about the Lincoln Centre for the Per­forming Arts in New York, he said the community assumed that orchestras, opera companies, ballet troupes and theatres would gain a lot by bec­om­ing partners in a centralised complex. But, he asked, is that still true? Firstly the promise of arts org­anisat­ions working together can become a daily grind of competing boards. Secondly such complexes tend to result in an arts ghetto, away from the broader community. He con­cluded that because an Arts Precinct allowed arts lovers to trav­el from their suburbs, dine, attend a performance and re­turn home, it plac­ed functional convenience above the desir­ab­ility for the arts to be owned by the community.  

    I am not sure his arguments are valid in Melbourne or in Philadelphia, so now is time to read Richard Carreño's Museum Mile: Philadelphia's Parkway Museums, 2011. It tells how and why the Benjamin Franklin Parkway eventually hosted at least 12 major cul­t­ural institut­ions of national.

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    Once Hitler came to power in 1933, Germany’s 572,000 Jews faced catastrophe as was made perfectly clear in Peter Nash's book Es­cape From Berlin (Impact Press, 2017). So how did some European Jews receive visas to the Far East? Just as the German industrialist Oskar Schindler saved the lives of 1200 Jews in Poland, three less-known diplomats helped Jews to get to Shanghai.

    In 1940 Chiune Sugihara was the Japanese consul general in Lithuania. He issued visas to 6000 Jews, against his Tokyo sup­eriors’ instructions, allowing Jews to transit through Japan. When he ran out of authentic visas, Sugihara threw signed sheets of paper stamped with his consular seal to the Jews as the train left Lithuania to take him back to Japan.

    Ho Feng-Shan was Chinese consul general in Vienna. After the Ansch­luss in 1938, the only way for the 200,000 Austrian Jews to escape was to get an entry visa from a foreign nation. Against the orders of his superior in Berlin, Ho issued thousands of visas for refugees going to Shanghai. Until he was ordered to return to China in 1940.

    Tadeusz Romer was the Polish ambassador to Japan. When many of Sug­ihara's Jews reached Japan, they could still have been sent back to Nazi-occupied Poland. So Romer intervened, granting them new pass­ports and visas to neutral countries. When the Polish embassy was shut down in 1941, “his” Jews were sent to safety in Shanghai.

    Nachemstein/Nash family
    Born in Berlin in 1936, three-year-old Peter Nachemstein and his parents were forced to escape Nazi Germany by fleeing to Shang­hai. The SS Scharnhorst was a German liner that they boarded in Genoa in April 1939. They almost missed the boat. When the Nachem­steins were served with an eviction notice straight after the inf­amous Kristallnacht destruction in Nov 1938 Herbert and Ingeborg wanted tickets to Argentina. When that failed, Ingeborg's father saved them.

    The voyage took Peter (aged 3) and his family through the Suez Canal with stops at Colombo, Manila and Hong Kong before the ship finally docked at Shanghai. Despite their fine surroundings on the Scharnhorst, the Nach­emsteins were in fact "boat people". They were persecuted refugees who had fled their homeland with little more than their clothes. And they were disem­barking, without visas, funds or language, at a Chinese port that had been invaded by the Imperial Japanese Army in 1937. Fortunately in those final few months before Hitler invaded Poland in Sept 1939, Shanghai was an open treaty port, a haven that accepted refugees without an entry visa.

    Peter's friends, the Witting family, fled Berlin and arrived in Sh­ang­hai in May 1939 on the SS Conte Verde. The Wit­tings were met by Jew­ish repres­ent­atives and taken to the Heime/-former refugee camps military barracks. Although 30 people packed into double bunk beds, the Wittings were fortunate. Relatives in South Africa sent money, allowing them to rent a single room in Hongkew, for eight years.

    Today this massive Chinese city is glamorous for tour­ists. In WW2, less so. Shanghai was divided into four distinct zones along the north­ern banks of the Yel­low River: a] Old Chinese City, b] Fren­ch Concession, c] International Settlement and d] Chinese Districts which had most of the city's 4 million population.

    New arrivals were issued with a blanket, sheets, tin dish, cup and spoon, and access to a soup kitchen. There were var­ious Shanghai Relief Aid Commit­tees which received funds from over­seas donors, especially the American Joint.

    The trickle of European refugees that began in the mid 1930s had become a flood by late 1939. Meanwhile thousands of impoverished Chinese were pouring into Shang­hai, seeking work. Beggars were everywhere. Death was every­where; coolies pushed carts around, picking up Chinese bodies.

    The Jewish Designated Area, 

    A Jewish coffee shop, White Horse Cafe
    Hongkew 19139-49

    The small room had 2 beds, sink, stove, table and cupboard. The Nachmensteins shared an unsewered toilet and a bathtub with two oth­er families. Every morning Chinese workers arrived and cleaned out the toilets. The tap water had to be boiled.

    Fortunately the women could collect food each day from the Heime kitchens. Survival in Shanghai was risked by poor diet, bad sanitation and low resistance to tropical diseases, but it was much better than any alternative. Comp­ared to Eur­ope’s death camps, Shanghai was a haven of safety.

    Any Jewish refugee who could raise enough money would leave the Heime. Most hoped to settle in Hongkew in the Internat­ional Settlement, which had been partially destroyed by 1937 bombs. As streets were cleared and houses rebuilt, Hongkew offered the Nachem­st­eins one single, subsidised room in a terraced house in Hongkew.

    By Nov 1940, the Shanghai authorities were trying to stem the tide of refugees by issuing entry visas. Just in time, Inge­borg's sister and brother in law took the only escape route - they caught the train from Berlin to Moscow, the Trans-Siberian Express to Vladivostok and a boat to Shanghai. Then Hitler declared war on Soviet Union and escapes ended.

    The Shanghai Jews did not have to face anti-Semitism. Neither the Chinese nor the Japanese, Con­fucianist or Bud­dhist, treated Jews any differently to other foreigners. Life was stable until Dec 1941 when Japan bombed Pearl Harbour. Suddenly Shanghai was swamped with Japanese military and civilian per­sonnel searching for housing. A very polite Japanese family moved into the Nash’s terrace house, occupying the entire first floor. The Jap­anese only target­ed American and British nationals. Some Sephardic Jews from the Mid­dle East or India had British passports and were treated brutally, but only because they were British!

    The real change didn't come until Mar 1943. Under pressure from senior Nazis, the Japanese agreed to move all the state­less refugees into a Designated Area i.e Shang­hai Ghetto in Hongkew, patrolled at night. The one villain was the brutal Japanese commander of the Designated Area, Kanoh Ghoya.

    At its peak, Shanghai had a Jewish community of c35,000 people with a school, synagogue, hospital, refugee hostels and bakeries. Both Nash and Witting attended the Shanghai Jewish Youth Association School, established by the famous Kadoori family, Middle Eastern Jews who’d had a commercial base in Shanghai.

    Shanghai was liberated by US troops in Aug 1945. Peace freed 3.5 million Chinese residents in this city, 6,000+ foreign cit­izens interned in the Civil Assembly Centre and 23,000 Jewish refugees in the Shanghai Ghetto. Most of the Shanghai Ghetto residents re-applied to the countries where they had orig­inally wanted to go, back in 1939.

    Shanghai had been the Nash family’s sanctuary, albeit a chaotic one. They left Shanghai for Australia in Feb 1949, as soon as their application for entry was finally accepted. For 60 years, the Shanghai survivors in Australia shared regular Hongkew newsletters and reunions.

    In 2015 thePeople’s Republic of China and the World Jewish Congress commemorated the 70th anniversary of the liberation of the Shanghai Ghetto and the end of WW2. The photo credits belong to WJC. Jewish Refugees in Shanghai was displayed at Sabes Jewish Community Centre in Minnesota in 2015. The Prague Jewish Museum opened an exhibit on the Jewish Refugees living in Shanghai ghetto in 2016. The Shanghai Jewish Refugees Museumis always worth visiting.

    Peter Nash, now 82, retired after a successful career in the textile industry. He launched his book Es­cape From Berlin at the 2017 Sydney Jewish Writers Fest­ival. Thanks Australian Financial Review for some of the details in this post.

    The Jewish Museum of Australia in Melbourne had a fine exhibition in the 1990s called The Story of a Haven: The Jews in Shanghai. To read of the earlier waves of émigrés, see a] Jews fleeing persecution in Czarist Russia who arrived just before WW1, settling in Shanghai's French Concession and b] German speakers who arrived after the Nazis came to power in Germany in 1933.

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    Brave New World: Australia 1930s is a special exhibition at The Ian Potter Centre: NGV in Melbourne until mid Oct 2017. The 1930s was a turbulent time in Aus­tralia’s history.  Major world events, includ­ing the Depression and the rise of totalitarian regimes in Europe, shap­ed our nation’s evolving sense of identity during this decade.

    See a multitude of art­istic styles, both progressive and reactionary, which were practised during the 1930s: fash­ion, commercial art, architecture, industrial design, film and dance. The exhibition presents a  detailed picture of this dynamic time and reveals some of the social and political concerns that were pertinent then.

    The life saver and the Sydney Harbour Bridge
    Celebrating the bridge's opening in 1932

    The exhibition charts the themes of technological pro­g­ress and its antithesis in the nostalgia for pastoralism; the emer­gence of the New Woman; nationalism and the body culture movement; mounting calls for Indigenous rights and the increasing interest in Indigenous art; the devastating effects of the Depress­ion and the rise of radical politics; and the arrival of European refugees. During the very turbulent 1930s high-rise buildings, fast trains and engineering marvels like the Sydney Harbour Bridge were up against the Great Depression, con­ser­vatism and a looming WW2.

    The Brave New World Exhibition is accompanied by a top quality, fully-illustrated hardback publication, featuring essays by leading writers on each of the exhibition themes.

    Artist and Designers
    The exhibition presented 200+ works spanning photography, painting, printmaking, sculpture and décor­at­ive arts as well as design, fashion, film and dance. Abstraction, Surrealism and Expressionism emerg­ed, and women artists arose as trailblazers of modernism. Consider modernist artist Grace Cossington Smith with her flat colours and abstracted forms. And Hilda Rix Nicholas.

    Modernism in architecture, interior design, industrial design and advertising was becoming fashionable. In Melbourne a group of designers was the first to pioneer modern design in Australia eg furniture designer Fred Ward at his home-furniture workshop in Eaglemont. In 1932 Ward opened a shop in the City, selling furniture, linens and Scandinavian glass. Fabrics for curtains and upholstery were printed by Australian designer Michael O’Connell with bold designs.

    When Robert Menzies (later Prime Minister) proposed the form­at­ion of an Australian Academy of Art, Melbourne modernists were con­cerned that their departure from conventional art would be marginalised. Especially when Menzies opened the Victorian Artists' Society show in April 1937 and singled out for attack a wall of modernist art.

    It took time before design and architecture became closely integ­rated with the changing realities of contemporary life... when the last vestiges of the conservative art establishment were unpopular.

    Fashioning the modern woman
    In the 1930s the new Modern Woman emerged as a more serious version of the dizzy 1920s flapper. A working woman, she often lived alone in a new block of flats, vis­ited night clubs and show­ed less interest in traditional marriage and child rearing. And she valued loved urban living, freedom and equality. With clothes introduced by French cout­urier Jean Patou in 1929, her lean body type was enhanced by leng­th­ened hemlines and defined waists. In addition to the clothes, the Modern Woman was fashioned through her gestures, behaviours, beliefs and self presentation (eg smoking casually).

    The Modern Woman became one of the most potent images of  1930s life, being celebrated in women’s magazines like "Australian Women’s Weekly", launched in 1933. Such magazines congrat­ulated the Modern Woman and promoted new con­sumer goods to her, yet at the same time she was criticised by conservative comment­ators.
    Portrait of modernist artist Peggie Crombie, 
    painted by Sybil Craig
    1932, NGV.

    Sun and Surf 
    The beach was a complex location in the Australian creative imagin­ation. It was a democratic site in which the trappings of wealth were abandoned as people stripped down to their bathers. It was a place of hedonistic pleasures that offered sensuous engagement with sun and surf, where natural forces restored exhausted city bodies.

    Note artist/photographer Max Dupain’s iconic depictions of the Australian body and beach culture. It was a tourist play ground that was considered distinctively Australian. Male lifesavers were used by artists in promoting Australia to tour­ists: a poster commemor­at­ing the Sydney Harbour Bridge opening in 1932 cited the lifesaver as the quintessential representative of Australian manhood and virility. His muscles were as strong as the steel girders above.

    The lifesavers that helped protect the beach-going public were reg­ularly praised as physical exemplars who could build the eugenic stock of the nation. As WW2 approached, the conn­ection of these trained lifesavers to military servicemen bec­ame painfully apparent.

    The body beautiful
    The terrible physical losses and psychological traumas of WW1 changed Australian society and prompted anxiety about our strength. For some this meant an inward-looking isolat­ionism, a desire that Australian culture should develop untouched by the degenerate influences of Europe. The search for rejuvenation involved explorations of the vulnerabilities of the human body. For artists, corporeal forms came to symbolise nationhood, often expressed via Classical Greek art. So the evolution of a new Australian type was proposed – a white Australian drawn from British stock, but with an athletic and streamlined shape honed by years spent swimming and surfing on local beaches.

    Enthusiasm for body culture with its undesirable fascistic overtones is now seen as problematic.

    Dance in Australia
    Modern dance embodied the 1930s’ restless vitality and the quest for a different kind of subjectivity and expression. To many, modern dance was the pivotal art form for a mid C20th concerned with plast­icity, the expressive body and tensions between the individual and its collective formation.

    The 1930s were framed by the 1928–29 tour of Anna Pavlova’s Dance Company and the three tours of the remnant Ballets Russes companies (1936–40) that excited many aspiring modernist art­ists. These tours predicted subsequent ballet narratives in Aust­ral­ia, because the eruption of war in 1939 meant that Ballets Russes dancers, including Helene Kirsova and Edouard Borovansky, stayed here and established ballet companies.

    Aboriginal Art and Culture
    During the 1930s the Australian Government continued to enforce a divide and rule assimilationist policy. Determined by eugenics, this entailed removing Aboriginal people of mixed descent from their families and reserves, and absorbing them into the dominant Anglo society. Increas­ingly, Aboriginal people formed their own organisations and agitated for full citizenship rights.

    The exhibition explores artists’ responses to the call for Indig­enous rights during the 1930s. Albert Namatjira astonished Melbourne audiences at his first solo exhibition at the Athenaeum Gallery in 1938. His 41 watercolour paintings sold in three days! The following year South Aust­ralia’a Art Gallery purchased one of Namatjira’s works. Indigenous art also in­spired non-Indigenous artists like Margaret Preston, who appropriated design elements in their works, to travel to the outback to appreciate Indigenous history.

    Australia tuned into the world by radio
    Radios in the 1930s at a time when this new method of communication became an integral part of every home. They reflect the rapid spread of the streamlined style to Australia from Europe and the USA, where industrial designers applied machine-age styling to everyday house­hold appliances. The use of new synthetic plastics (Bakelite) and mass production helped to make radios affordable for ordinary people, even during the Dep­ression, and radio transmission brought the world into every Aust­ralian home.

    Colourful and elegant radios of the 1930s are now loved as core examples of Art Deco styling, and one of the first expressions of art meeting industry. Alas the exhibition’s radios were too high for my grandchildren to see, to change channels and to listen to an old news broadcast.

    The Great Depression and the brave new world of cities
    Unemployment rate rose to 32% by 1932, second only to Germany in awfulness. The photographer F. Oswald Barnett displayed powerful images of impoverished inner Melbourne suburbs, with hungry children and decrepit houses. In paintings we see similar images, firstly in the works of emigres Danila Vassilieff and Yosl Bergner. Then Arthur Boyd and Albert Tucker became committed to depicting Australia’s unemployed workers and destitute families.

    The towering Manchester Unity Building emerged in Melbourne
    in 1932, giving employment to Depression-hit workers.

    Efficiency and speed depicted modernity. Many artists celebrated the city and technological advancements in works utilis­ing hard-edged forms, flat colours and dyn­amic compositions. The engineering marvel of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, opened in 1932, fascinated artists, as did city buildings, industry and modern transport.

    The skyscraper was THE powerful symbol of modernity, once the Great Depression seemed to stop progress. In 1932, as the Depression hit rock bottom, Melbourne’s tallest building was opened: Man­chester Unity Build­ing. With its ornam­ental tower and tall spire, the building became a new symbol of enterprise and confidence, and provided much-needed employment during the Depression.

    Efficiency, speed and great design depicted modernity
    Poster of The Victorian Railways, 1937

    Australia's pastoral cult
    A national myth evolved around the Australian bush. Although most Australians lived in cities, the post-WW1 nation learned that the bush was a nostalgic touchstone of trad­itional values. The classical pastoral ideal of a land in which only sheep and cattle roam became a dominant theme in landscape art. Elioth Gruner depicted the Aust­ral­­ian bush as a respite from the frenetic pace of modern city life.

    Pastoral landscapes were admired above all as representing the ant­ithesis of decadent modern life. Conservative gallery director JS Macdonald said such art would point the way in which life should be lived in Australia, with the maximum of flocks and the minimum of factories. Of course such works affirmed white landownership.

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    The Museum of Manufactures and the Government School of Design were located in Marlborough House, an impressive Pall Mall residence. When a new home for this Museum (later Victoria & Albert) had to be found in South Kensington, they used the estate bought by the Commissioners for 1851’s Great Exhib­ition. The Museum was established in 1852 with 3 founding principles i.e to make works of art available to all; to educate working people; and to inspire British designers and manufacturers. All plans had to be approved by Prince Albert, including approval for Sir Henry Cole (1808–82) to become first V & A Director. The financial surplus from the Great Exhibition went to the V & A!

    The South Kensington site architect was Captain Francis Fowke (1823-65), Inspector of Science and Art. Instead of Gothic architect­ure, Fowke proposed to focus on a North Italian Renaissance style, two storeys high, with a grand Lecture Theatre complex as centrepiece.

    In 1861 designer Godfrey Sykes (1824-66) was invited to London by Henry Cole to as­sist with the horticult­ural gardens and arcades. The decorative schemes in the North and South Courts were mainly Sykes’ work, especially the choice of terracotta as the decorative medium.

    In the showpiece Lecture Theatre building’s main feature was the red brick, terr­acotta and mos­aic-faced façade, three large recessed ar­ch­es and ter­r­acotta columns bearing fig­ures. Portraits of key mem­b­ers of the Mus­eum team, and names from the arts and sciences, appeared in the mosaic panels, lunettes and door panels.

     Gamble Room with pianist

    The Gamble, Poynter/Grill & Morris/Green Rooms were to be the interlinked Museum’s restaurants. Although they were to be functional spaces, these restaurants would highlight the Museum's lavishly de­corated public face. Victorian designer Will­iam Morris had been Pre-Raphaelite friends with architect Philip Webb, Edward Burne-Jones and Dante Gabriel Rossetti in 1861, all partners in the int­er­ior decorating-furnishing business. Henry Cole was truly avant-garde in his determination that these three eating rooms should re­flect the simplicity of Morris Company's designs.

    A] The walls and columns of the Gamble Room, influenced by Prince Albert's Frog­more Dairy of 1858–61, were faced with Minton majolica. The lofty and light room was opened in 1867, and The Building News in 1870 found the room bright and cheerful, like a richly adorned cafés of Paris. BHO noted that John Everett Millais (1829-96) selected the colours. But in 1874–5 the plaster ceiling was replaced by the Enam­elled Iron Company with one of sheet-iron enamelled in colours suggested by the metal ads on rail­way stations. Visitors ate at attractive tables.

    Opposite the Museum’s main entrance, the Gamble Room was the vis­it­or's first view inside. The am­az­ing dec­or­ation was part of Cole's concept of a “museum restaurant as a way of getting people to enjoy culture”. The windows and frieze were full of Victorian sayings on the joys of eating and drinking. Ventilation grilles in the ceiling of the Gamble Room were sur­r­ounded by heavy en­amelled-iron railway-type plates. The ceramic tiled walls and columns were provided a hygienic, washable site for eating.

    Edward Poynter Grill Room

    B] The smaller flanking rooms needed other decoration. Edward Poynter (1836-1919), so successful at the Royal Academy, was invited in Nov 1865 to tender for the decoration of the eastern restaurant, the Grill Room-Poynter Room. Designed by Poynter himself, the tile panels were painted in a tile-painting class for female students at the Schools of De­sign. For women to be engaged in so public a commission was very progressive. This radical spirit at South Kensington found popular expression in the altern­ative Arts and Crafts designs of the 1880-1910 era.

    And he designed the windows and the iron-brass grill. The décor­at­ion of the meat grill, particularly in the app­lied brass, look­ed modern. The room was opened in 1867.

    The Poynter Room was furnished with small iron tables with white marble tops. The catering contract­or offered a long breakfast menu, divided according to social stand­ing. The 1st class menu was elab­or­ate and expensive; the 2nd class menu was more limited and cheap­er. The 3rd class menu was only available to workmen at the Museum. In a related theme, the V&A was the first public museum in the world to be artificially lit. Workers could come in the evenings, “furnishing a powerful antidote to the Gin Palace”, and giving working families culture instead of booze.

    This room shows that in the later C19th many designers were infl­uen­c­ed by Japan. The wave patterns on the stove doors, the peacocks on the frieze tile panels, and the flower motifs on the blue-and-white tiles … all come from the east.

    C] The west­ern ­most room, the Green Dining Room-Morris Room, was designed by Morris. The sub­dued gold and greens colours of the scheme show that he was still under the sacred influence of the Gothic Re­vival. He dec­or­ated the walls with Elizabethan wooden panelling, below a sect­ion of green plaster with olive branches in low relief. And the stained-glass windows had female figures painted by Edward Burne-Jones and Philip Webb. Each table had matching myrtle-green Burleigh crockery.

    In 1864 the Museum bought some stained glass from Morris, Marshall & Faulkner Co. The estimate for the windows was accepted in Sept 1866 and the estimate for the ceiling and panelled dado was accepted in Oct 1867. The work was finished in 1868–9. Burne Jones' dado rail art displayed the signs of the zodiac and his designs for the wind­ows showed medieval domestic tasks.

    William Morris Green Room

    The rest of the decoration was by Morris' friend, architect Philip Webb. Webb took his inspiration from medieval and Eccles­iastical sour­c­es eg a font in Newcastle Cathedral for the frieze, and medieval manuscripts for the ceiling decoration. The four hanging lights were designed much later, from a drawing by Philip Webb, and were installed in 1926. Morris’ pattern-making was in the plaster-work on the walls – Tudorish leaves, flowers and berries.

    Sir Henry Cole retired in 1873 but by 1889, public opinion demanded that Museum work be somehow com­p­leted. The Victoria and Albert Mus­eum was built from 1899 and opened in 1909, representing a return to the idea of the museum of priceless treasures in marble halls. The lavishly decorated, historic refreshment rooms that stunned and delighted visitors in the Victorian era were way beyond my personal taste, but these treasures are still well worth visiting today.

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    Nigel Caw­th­orne’s  book Sex Lives of the Kings and Queens of England (Carlton Publishing, 2004) proposed that there was more to fascination with royal sexual antics than mere prur­ien­ce. Throughout history, the sex­ual part­ners of royals could be a matter of life or death. Pol­itical alliances were often made on royal marriages, so the suc­cess of a marital relat­ion­ship could influence the nation’s foreign policies. Yes the British royal family no longer enjoys the power it once did, given that the constitutional monarchy is only a Head of State. Yet he also proposed that gross sexual mis­conduct by any of them could seriously undermine the position of the monarchy. How could those views compatible? I would have loved the author to provide his sources.

    Prince of Wales' great love affairs.    Photo credit: Daily Mail

    I loved every chapter, but my favourite was The Greatest Love Story Ever Told that dealt with the Ed­ward Prince of Wales (1894-1972). During WW1, the Prince was taken to a Calais brot­hel where he found the sight of female genitalia re­volt­ing. He had his first sexual experience in Amiens, then took up with a courtesan in Paris.

    Back in London, the Prince courted Lady Sybil Cadogan, his sister’s best friend, and wanted marriage in 1917. The next affair was with Lady Rose­mary Leveson-Gower, a soc­iety beauty who the prince wanted to marry in 1918. Edward loathed his parents, incensed that they prevented him from marrying Lady Rose­mary. Anyhow she married William Ward, 3rd Earl of Dudley, in March 1919.

    Then Edward chose married woman - the still-mar­r­ied Mar­ian Coke, his much adored lover Freda Dudley Ward (divorced wife of an MP who was vice chamberlain of the Royal Household) and the married Americ­an heiress Aud­rey James. Best of all was Lady Thelma Furn­ess, the daught­er of an American diplomat who eloped at 16, divorced and then married the shipping magnate Viscount Furness. Thel­ma joined the Prince in Kenya in 1928 where the two fell pass­ionate­ly in love.

    In time Thelma complained her royal lover had been poorly endowed and was a lacklustre performer. Did Thelma’s lack of excite­ment come from the Prince’s homo­sexual prefer­en­ces, as des­cribed by the writer Lytton Strachey (1880–1932)? Luck­ily Thelma soon met the well-endowed playboy Aly Khan, son of the Aga Khan.

    Louis Mountbatten drew up a list of 17 eligible young royals, including Greek Princesses Margarita and Theodora, and 18-year-old Princess Ingrid of Sweden who arrived in London in 1928. But for the Prince of Wales in his mid-30s, there was little of interest amongst these royals.

    Note that Thelma Furness’ best friend was the American Wallis Simp­son whose first husband had been the sadistic, bi-sexual navy flier, Earl Winfield Spencer (married 1916). To make married life less mis­er­ab­le, Wallis had aff­airs with foreign diplomats. In Shang­hai and in Peking she enjoyed delightful affairs with wealthy American men, then a fine lesbian affair with Admiral FH Sadler’s wife. And Italian men must have been very attractive to Wallis Simpson since she went out with the Italian Naval Attache Alberto de Zara and with the married Count Galeazzo Ciano, Mussolini’s son in law & Italy’s Foreign Minister.

    Wallis returned to the USA and met British shipping executive and Cold­stream Guards offic­er, Ernest Simpson. As both Wallis and Ernest were married to other people, they had to arrange hasty div­orces. They marr­ied in 1929 and returned to Britain to live. Soon Wal­l­is travelled to France with Consuela Thaw and Gloria Vanderbilt, who was in the middle of a torrid, gay affair with another aristocrat.

    Freda Dudley Ward, Prince Edward, Viscountess Furness, Prince George of Hanover 1932. Photo credit: Daily Mail

    By 1935 King George V was alarmed that his son was having an affair with Wal­l­is Simp­son, but the Prince didn’t care.

    Wallis noted the ext­reme lack of virility that Thelma Furness had comp­l­ained so explic­itly about years ago and it is doubtful whether the coup­le ever had sexual intercourse. Wallis taught him erotic games based on nanny-child scenes in which he was happily sub­missive.

    Although Wallis was entertaining Edward's foot fetishes, she still had her own needs. While Nazi Germany was invading the demilit­ar­is­ed Rhinelands, Wallis was having an affair with Germany’s ambassador to Britain, Joach­im von Ribbentrop. Rib­ben­trop believed that the Prince of Wales would eventually dictate British foreign policy, so he con­vin­ced Hitler that the Nazis had the Prince's support. How much did the German ambas­s­ador know from the Prince of Wales himself, and how much did he learn in bed from Wallis?

    Wallis made it clear in her letters that she did not love her Prin­ce, but she enjoyed her power over him. He was a masochist who liked being degraded, as Freda Dudley Ward had also noted.

    Prince Edward admired Hitler's economic and social reforms, infur­iating the British govern­ment by saying that Britain should offer the Nazis friend­ship. Edward wanted to speak priv­ately with Hitler and claimed he would abandon his eventual throne, if the British Prime Minister declar­ed war on Germany.

    In Jan 1936, King George V died & Edward was crowned King Edward VIII, still determined to marry Wallis! A divorce was speedily arranged for Mrs Simpson, but prime minister Stanley Bald­win said it wouldn’t help – the king could never marry a multi-divorced foreigner. When the scandal broke in the British newspapers, Wallis fled to France. But King Edward abdicated in Dec 1936 any­how, after only one year. Wallis’ divorce was finalised in May 1937.

    The Duke and Duchess with Adolf Hitler, 1937

    The Duke of Windsor finally got married in June 1937. Cut off from the British royal family, the Duchess became the closest friend of Diana Mit­ford, wife of the British Union of Fas­cists leader Os­wald Mosley. Diana’s sister Unity, an intimate of Hit­ler's, had introd­uced Diana to the Fuhrer back in March 1935. Note that Lady Mosley’s marriage took place in Joseph Goebbels’ home, with Adolf Hitler as guest of honour.

    Edward wanted to become a figurehead for an international movement for peace on Hitler's terms, meeting the Fuhrer at his moun­tain retreat of Obersalzberg. He also met Hit­ler's deputy Rudolf Hess twice, planning to see him re-installed as puppet monarch, if the Nazis invaded Britain.

    In 1947, Cawthorne reported, the Duke was involved in a torrid affair with Jimmy Donahue, New York heir to the Woolworth fortune. Noel Coward, who became a close friend of the Windsors after the abdication, also liked Jimmy Donahue. The Duke, Duchess and Donahue travelled together, but the menage a trois foundered because of the growing entourage of rent boys.

    So I don’t mind if Edward was straight, gay, celibate, submissive or a pole dancer. No do I mind that Wallis was divorced, foreign and sex­ually exotic. But I do care that both of them were close to Nazi politics, soc­ial policy and economics. They had an association with the British Union of Fas­cists, Os­wald and Diana Mosley, Hitler, Goebbels and Hess, and planned to retake the British throne on behalf of the Germans.

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    The Early Years

    Richard Bruno Heydrich was director of Halle Conserv­atory of Music and Theatre which he had founded in 1901. He comp­osed and performed choral works, songs, orchest­ral works and operas a la Richard Wag­ner. Heydrich’s wife Elisabeth taught piano at the Halle Conservat­ory and Elisabeth’s father had been the director of the Dresden Roy­al Conservatory. Clearly the Heydrich family was a very culturally and financially import­ant family!

    Reinhard Heydrich (1904-42) was born in Halle NW of Leipzig, son of Richard and Elisabeth. Music was an integral part of family life; the young lad dev­eloped a passion for the violin and cello. He excelled in science and athletics at the Reform-gymnasium. But he was whipped by his mother and bullied by children for his high voice and possible Jewish ancestry.

    Too young to fight in WWI, Heydrich got lucky. WW1 ended with Ger­m­any's defeat in 1918. In Feb 1919, strikes and clashes between left and right-wingers took place in Halle, so a right-wing paramilitary unit was form­ed under the Def­ence Minis­t­er and ordered to control Halle. Tall, teenage Heydrich joined the Volun­t­eer Rifles.

    Because of the Treaty of Versailles, hyper­inflation spread across Germany and incomes collapsed. By 1921, few townspeople in Halle could afford a musical education at Bruno Hey­drich's conservatory. As the family struggled economically, strikes and street battles in Halle meant revolut­ionary chaos surrounded young Reinhard. A relatively late convert to Nazism, he joined the anti-Semitic National German Protection & Shelter League.

    But instead of fulfilling his father's dream to study music, Reinhard joined the navy in 1922. Impressed by the security, free education and pension it offered, he became a naval cadet at Kiel, Germany's primary naval base. In 1924 he was promoted and sent to officer train­ing at the Naval Acad­emy Mürwik.

    Naval officer Heydrich specialised in signals and communic­ations. And he specialised in sexual affairs. In Dec 1930 he met Lina von Osten at a sports club ball. They soon announced their engagement, so he left another senior naval officer’s daughter to whom he had been engaged. A military court of honour found him to have dis­hon­oured the officer corps of the Reich Navy and forced him to resign his commission in 1931. Hey­drich’s dismissal was ter­rible; he was suddenly unemployed. In Dec 1931 he married Lina, already a convinced Nazi Party supporter, and went on to have four adorable children.

    Reinhard Heydrich
    Robert Gerwarth's book
    published by Yale University Press, 2012

    But instead of fulfilling his father's dream to study music, Reinhard joined the navy in 1922. Impressed by the security, free education and pension it offered, he became a naval cadet at Kiel, Germany's primary naval base. In 1924 he was promoted and sent to officer train­ing at the Naval Acad­emy Mürwik.

    Naval officer Heydrich specialised in signals and communic­ations. And he specialised in sexual affairs. In Dec 1930 he met Lina von Osten at a sports club ball. They soon announced their engagement, so he left another senior naval officer’s daughter to whom he had been engaged. A military court of honour found him to have dis­hon­oured the officer corps of the Reich Navy and forced him to resign his commission in 1931. Hey­drich’s dismissal was ter­rible; he was suddenly unemployed. In Dec 1931 he married Lina, already a convinced Nazi Party supporter, and went on to have four adorable children.

    THE SS 
    Heydrich was introduced to SS chief Heinrich Himmler in Mun­ich. Seek­ing to create an internal intelligence service for the Nazi par­ty, Himmler was so impr­es­sed by Hey­drich's proposals and his Aryan characteristics that he brought him into the SS. By Jan 1933, the Intelligence Agency/SD under Hey­drich's leadership had become an important agency in the Nazi party.

    29-year-old Heydrich played a leading role in the Night of the Long Knives in June 1934, leading to further promotion within the SS. In 1934 Heydrich was given command of the Berlin Gestapo, a position that suited his very skilful brutality. Under his leadership, they compiled comp­lete details about potential spies and enemies.

    The SD entered Austria after the Ansch­luss in March 1938; and then entered the Sudetenland after itsannexation in Oct 1938. They quickly sec­ured intelligence and arrested Germany’s enem­ies. In Nov 1938 SD exp­erts and police provoked the violence of Krist­all­­nacht through­out Nazi Germ­any, exclusively directed against Jewish synag­ogues and homes. In the wake of this pogrom, they implemented the first roundup of c30,000 Jews.

    When Ger­m­any invaded Poland in 1939, six Einsatz-gruppen Mobile Killing Units moved into Pol­and behind the front-line troops. They killed thous­ands of members of the Pol­ish nationalist and cult­ural elite.

    Hitler and Himmler
    comforting Heydrich's sons 
    at the Berlin funeral, 1942

    After Germany invad­ed Poland, Himmler formally linked the Sec­urity Police and SD by estab­lishing The Reich Main Security Office/RSHA in Sept 1939, under Heydrich's command. Like Himmler, Heydrich had to “guarantee the security and sur­vival of the German race” and they did it by suppressing all internal and ex­ternal enemies of the Nazi state: World Jewry, Marxists (Commun­ists, Social Democrats, trade unionists), churches who opp­osed the regime (eg Jehovah's Witnesses), traditional nationalists & Freemasons. The Gestapo incarcerated these groups in camps.

    When the previously dormant Czech communist resistance movement started carrying out acts of sabotage, Hitler dis­missed Reich Prot­ect­or Konstantin von Neu­r­ath (Germany’s ex-Minister of Foreign Affairs). Instead he appointed Heydrich as Acting Reich Lead­er of the Prot­ectorate of Bohemia and Moravia from Sept 1941 on.

    Heydrich first ordered a terror campaign against real and possible leaders of the Czech communists. In Oct-Nov 1941, German Pro­tectorate courts had 342 people executed and gave 1,289 to the Gestapo. Heydrich opened Theresienstadt camp-ghetto in Nov; under his rule 14,000 German and Austrian Jews, plus 20,000 Czech Jews, were deported from Theresienstadt. The But­cher of Prague’s role was to stamp out all Czech reb­ellion via terror and mass executions.

    Nonetheless I was surprised to read that Hey­drich became known as one of the main architects of the Final Solut­ion. In Jan 1939 Herm­ann Göring au­thorised Heydrich to develop plans for a Final Solution to the Jewish Question in the German Reich. By Jan 1942 Heydrich had invited key officials from various Reich Min­istries to a con­f­er­ence at a villa on the Wannsee Lake, in SW Berl­in. At this Wannsee Con­ference he presented plans, authorised by Hitler himself, to coord­inate a European-wide Final Solution. Hey­drich and the SS had to coordinate the resources of the Reich, and submit the final plan. To guarantee success, he requested the active participation of all Ministries represented at Wannsee.

    The Special Operations Executive/SOE was an espionage and reconnaissance unit created by Winston Churchill in June 1940. The BBC reported that the British SOE planned the assas­s­ina­t­ion of Heydrich in Prague. In the top-secret Operation Anth­ropoid, the SOE trained a group of Czech resist­ance members to kill Heydrich. Operation Anth­ropoid reported to Winston Churchill and to Edvard Benes, President of the Czech-government-in-exile.

    Heydrich was so self-confident that he travelled around Prague in an open vehicle. In May 1942, as he was travelling to the airport to fly to Hitler's headquarters, two Czech part­is­ans rolled a hand gren­­­ade under Heydrich's car. The gren­ade splint­ers throughout his body led to an infect­ion that killed him a week later.

    Hitler was so enraged by Heydrich’s assassination that he ordered murderous rep­risals against the Czech population; the SS troops cap­tured the two Czech towns of Lidice and Ležáky, executing every man and destroying every home. At Heydrich’s state funeral in Ber­l­in, both Hitler and Himmler mourned one of their best Final Sol­ution Exec­utors, a skilled killer of the Enemies of the Reich.

    Bodies of  the adult male civilians of Lidice,
    murdered in reprisal for the assassination of Heydrich. 1942

    Heydrich, the man from a cultured, educated family, oversaw Occupied Czechoslovakia and the murderous death squads. His utter brutality was high even by Nazi standards. The details of the British SOE's involvement in his assassination are still unclear.

    Thanks to Hitler's Hangman: The Life of Heydrich by Robert Gerwarth and The History Place.

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    The 1889–1890 Flu Pandemic was similar to the great Spanish Flu pandemic and might have prepared doctors and armies in WW1. It was first noted in different countries: China (1888); Athabasca in Canada (May 1889); Greenland (summer 1889), Tomsk in Siberia and Bukhara in Uzbek­istan (Oct 1889), St Peter­sburg in late Oct 1889, and expanded rapidly via railway across Europe. In Paris, the first cases were recorded on 17th Nov; in Berlin and Vienna on 30th Nov; in London in mid Dec, and in southern European countries in late Dec. The flu spread overseas to Boston and New York in Jan 1890. And then throughout North and South America, Africa, Asia and Oceania by mid 1890. The most tragic period was between Dec 1889 and Jan 1890; the majority of the million deaths were older than 50.

    So how different was the Spanish Flu Epidemic of WW1? Even before the arrival of air travel, Spanish flu swept around the world in just 3 catastrophic months from Oct 1918 to Jan 1919 - and killed more people than WW1 had.

    The 1918 flu came in two waves. The first wave was a benign bout that began in March 1918 in Spain. The epidemic was remarkable for the millions of victims struck down; high temp­er­atures; aching limbs; headaches and sore throats. Mostly the ill­ness quickly passed and few deaths occurred.

    An early pandemic occurred in the British military base at Étaples (1916–1917) in North France. This military base, situated near sea mar­sh­es with migratory birds, was occupied by 100,000 soldiers within 12 sq ks.  Presumably the epidemic came from a mixture of very crowded sold­iers, ? infected birds and mutagenic war gas. Or perhaps the virus originated with pigs kept near the British troops at the camp, and then jumped species over to humans.

    As France lost its own men in The Great War, hund­reds of thousands of troops in indigenous army units were organised in the French col­onies in Africa, Asia and Oceania. Of the 50,000+ Indo-Chinese sold­iers sent from the old Annam kingdom (now Vietnam-Laos-Cambodia) to France, half of them were assigned to active battalions, or as nurses and lorry drivers on the Front. But was there a connection with flu?

    Medical records reported that an American flu epidemic began in Feb 1918, in Sing-Sing Prison in New York. Others mentioned an acute infect­ious outbreak among young farmers in Haskell County in Kansas. This too occurred in Feb 1918, especially once these young farmers en­listed and were incorporated into Kansas’ Funston military camp. The later link to the Spanish Flu in Europe might have been explain­ed in terms of the Chinese workers in Kansas i.e to the new c­om­­b­in­ation of viruses  of Chinese and Indochinese origin
    Camp Funston, Kansas, 1918
    Photo credit: Kansas WW1

    The Paris ASSA archives affirmed that the first cases of flu in France appeared in the Third Army in Villers-sur-Coudun and in the Fère-Briange training field in April 1918. At the same time, flu broke out in the American army which was based in the outskirts of Bordeaux. And there were flu cases reported in 1st and 2nd battalions of the British army in France, in the German army at the Western front, and in the Military Hospital of Cabour in Belgium. Without a vaccine or antibiotics, public health authorities watched as the pandemic raged. People best avoided in­f­­­ection via face masks and staying away from crowds.

    But after a period of calm in mid 1918 the virus mutated, becoming extremely virulent. This more deadly second wave probably first start­ed in Spain. Thus the label “Spanish Flu”. Spain had been neut­ral in the Great War, but it permitted the pass­age of Portuguese troops, workers and merchandise towards Fran­ce. This important com­munic­at­ions hub between the Iberian Peninsula and Paris was in the Basque Count­ry, at the outlet of a marshy bird-filled river - a frontier region that could have been one of the places in which the virus mutated and became in­v­asive.

    From Oct 1918 on, the flu mov­ed to the general population across Spain, eventually affecting Portugal, then French and Italian cities. Frightening mortal­ity quickly emerged. Fluid entered the lungs; faces turned blue; the cough brought up the blood-stained sputum and the feet turned black. The lucky victims quickly drowned in their own lungs. The unlucky victims developed bact­er­ial pneumonia as an agon­is­ing secondary infect­ion. In the morning, the dead bodies were stack­ed about the morgue. But between the speed of the flu outbreak and effective military cens­orship in WW1, families didn’t know what had happened to their loved ones.

    The Allies had been boosted by hundreds of thousands of strapping young American recruits pouring into France aboard every trans-Atlantic troopship. How tragic it was that these fit young men who appeared most suscep­t­ible to the flu virus; in the crowded troop ships and training camps they fell ill and dropped dead. In October 1918, while 50,000 Americans died in battle, 70,000 of them were hospit­al­ised with flu, of whom 32% died. The Allied offensives almost ground to a halt because so many soldiers were sick. Had the Allies known it, the starving Germans were worse off.

    Australian Red Cross Voluntary Aid Detachment members, 
    working as flu doctors in Sydney, 1918. 
    Photo credit: Australian War Memorial

    The Great War, which had ravaged Europe for four years, was end­ing. But in the week in which The Armistice was signed, 11th Nov 1918, flu deaths in Europe reached their peak. British prime min­ister and US president, who met in Paris to design the Treaty of Versailles, both caught the flu and lived. But Sir Mark Sykes, whose Sykes-Picot Plan was to carve up the Middle East, died from flu.

    I thought snow protected citizens against the flu, but the Spanish flu reached Sweden in June 1918, and a one-third of the population became infected. c34,500 persons died from flu during the pandemic or from acute pneumonia.

    A milder third wave occurred in early 1919, while the fourth wave spread during early 1920. The majority of those who died were young, healthy adults aged 15-44 but mortality rates varied between countries. By the end of the epidemic, in less than 2 years, 50+ million people had died world­wide.

    The Spanish Flu pand­emic was inext­ricably linked to the millions of young men in army barracks, military camps and trenches; this is where the Flu virus developed, became virulent and spread worldwide in Oct-Nov 1918. Soldiers and workers, from Europe, Asia, America, Africa and Oceania, mixed on French soil. The causal fact­ors were poor liv­ing conditions, stress, fear, war gases used indis­crim­inately, shocking winters, and contact with birds and pigs.

    Thanks to the main references: "Origins of the Spanish Flu pandemic (1918–1920) and its relation to the WW1" by Anton Erkoreka and "When the World Sneezed" by Nigel Jones in History Today magazine, 5th May 2009. 

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    I’ll soon be seeing Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story, directed by Alexandra Dean, at the Jewish Film Festival. The festival programme says: Known for her striking looks and electric onscreen persona, Lamarr’s fans never knew she possessed such a beautiful mind. An Aust­rian Jewish émigré who acted by day and drew mechanical and electronic inventions by night, Lam­arr came up with a secret communication system to help the Allies to beat the Naz­is. Bomb­shell is for lovers of history, film and science. But locating the truth about her life was tricky. All the facts below come from Encyclopaedia of World Biography.

    Hedwig Kiesler (1913–2000) was born in Vienna. Her parents were Jewish and cultivated; her father Emil Kiesler was a Bank of Vienna director and her mother Gertrud Lichtwitz a concert pianist from Budapest. Hedwig attended schools in Vienna then was sent to a Swiss finishing school.

    After an unsuccessful audition with her acting teacher and stage director, Max Rein­hardt, Hedwig moved into films. Her screen career began in 1930 with two Austrian films.

    Hedy Lamarr and Clark Gable
    Comrade X, 1940

    She had several other small German-language roles, but it took con­troversy for Hedwig to be famous. In 1932 she made the film Ecstasy in Czechoslovakia, released in 1933. The film told of a young woman whose husband was impotent, causing her to seek a younger man. Two scenes were responsible for the film's notoriety and bans: a] Hedwig ran nude through a sunlit forest and b] a sex scene in which she experienced an intense orgasm.

    Ecstasy attracted the attention of mil­lionaire Aust­rian arms dealer Fritz Mandl, whom teenage Hedwig met in Dec 1933 and then married. Mandl had converted from Judaism to Cathol­icism in order to be able to do business with Germany's fascist regime, and Lamarr al­so converted from Judaism to Cathol­icism in 1933. App­ar­ent­ly Mandl tried to buy and destroy every outstanding copy of the film Ecstasy. Whether out of revuls­ion to her husb­and's polit­ics or not, Hed­wig packed a case with jewellery, drug­ged her maid and fled to Paris, London and New York in 1937.

    Hed­wig began negotiating with producer Louis B Mayer of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, who wanted new exotic Euro­pean talent. Hedwig had refused Mayer's dismal contract offer in London, but by the time the ship docked in New York she had a handsome MGM contract and the brand new name of Hedy Lamarr. Mayer called her The Most Beautiful Woman in the World.

    Lamarr's first American film was Algiers (1938) opposite French actor Charles Boyer. A successful launch for her Amer­ican career, this film was followed by two flops, Lady of the Tropics (1939) and I Take This Woman (1940), co-starring Spencer Tracy. The actress's fortunes improved in 1940 with Boom Town star­ring Clark Gable, and Comrade X, an anti-Communist romance.

    During WW2 Lamarr was an American sex symbol and star with Come Live with Me (1941), Ziegfeld Girl (1941), The Heav­enly Body and the steamy White Cargo (both 1943), in which Lamarr played a mixed-race prostitute on an African rubber plantation. In 1943 Lamarr wanted the Casab­lanca role that eventually went to Swed­ish actress Ingrid Bergman.

    Lamarr also appeared in celebrity gossip columns. She dated silent comedian Charlie Chaplin in 1941, and had flings with Burgess Mered­ith. Lam­arr married producer Gene Markey in 1939, then divorced. Then she was married to English actor John Loder and had child­ren. Later Lamarr was married three more times.

    Hedy Lamarr and Victor Mature
    Samson and Delilah, 1949

    Modernist American composer George Antheil also played an important role in Hedy's life. Antheil was as well-connected as Lamarr; he met & in 1925 mar­ried Hungarian Boski Markus, niece of Austrian play­wright Arthur Schnitzler.

    Lamarr knew maths very well and had cleverly picked up practical munitions-engineering know­ledge from Mandl. In 1940 she “solved” the problem of controlling a radio-guided torpedo. Electronic data broadcast on a specific frequency could easily be jammed by enemy transmitters, so Lamarr suggested rapid changes in the broadcast freq­uency. Anth­eil, who had experim­ented with electronic musical instruments, de­vised a punch-card-like device that could synchronise a transmitter and receiver.

    The pair were jointly awarded a patent for their important discovery. But credit did not help the frequency-hopping idea; it was never applied by the military during WW2. The real payoff of frequency-hopping came only decades later, when it became integral to the operation of cellular telephones and Blue-tooth systems that enabled computers to communicate with peripheral devices. Too late for Lamarr and Ant­heil's patent.

    Experiment Perilous (1944) was a great film. As was the Cecil B De­Mille film Samson and Delilah (1949), with Victor Mature and Lamarr as the stars. The film combined a Biblical evangelical Christ­­ian mor­alism combined with hot sex!

    Lamarr made several films in the 1950s, outside the Hollywood sys­t­em. In the Italian-made feature The Loves of Three Queens (1954) she played Helen of Troy, and then Joan of Arc in The Story of Man­kind (1958). But her heyday was past. In 1950 she auctioned off her possessions and retired from films.

    raunchy poster for White Cargo, 1943

    In 1967 she published an autobiography, Ecstasy and Me: My Life as a Woman, but sued her ghost writers, claiming that the book was scan­d­alous. She complained that she’d had a $7 million income but was now subsisting on a grotty pension. More litigation followed in 1974.

    Lamarr was reclusive in her last years. The story of her radio transmission invent­ion became widely publicised and she received an Electronic Frontier Foundation Pion­eer Award in 1997. She died in Jan 2000 and was posthumously inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2014.

    For a biography that focused on Lamarr's scientific skills, see Richard Rhodes' book Hedy’s Folly (Doubleday).


    Now my own questions. Undoubtedly Hedwig fell for Fritz Mandl’s charming personality, and was very impressed with his business acumen. But if Mandl's ties to Mussolini and Hitler were very close, how did Hedy’s Jewish parents allow their teenage daughter to marry him? And if Mandl’s own parents were Jewish, how did Hitler agree to buy the Nazis’ munitions from him? How did Hedy keep her Jewishness a total secret throughout her American life? Why was it only after her death that her child­ren learned they were Jewish.

    Why did Mussolini and Hitler attend lavish parties at the Mandl home during their marriage? If one of Mandl's favourite topics at these gatherings was the technology surrounding radio-controlled missiles and torpedoes, did the American government acknowledge Hedy’s military knowledge and want to exploit it? If Lamarr was involved in a system that would allow American torpedoes and guided bombs to always reach their Nazi targets, were the Germans interested in how much knowledge she took with her to the USA after 1937? And in how much expertise she was developing with George Antheil in the USA?

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    We were often told that Eugene von Guerard (1811–1901)’s Australian landscapes of the 1860s and 70s were indebted to the romantic art of Caspar David Friedrich, two generations earlier, or that there was an affinity between­ his work and that of Amer­ic­an landscape painters like Frederic Church. But Christopher Allen (The Australian 8th Oct 2017) wrote that if von Guerard’s style was dist­inct­ive, the sociocultural milieu within which he worked in Australia was also significantly differen­t from that of the Americans to whom he was sometimes comp­ar­ed.

    The USA established the core of its identity as a nation around the Declaration of Independence from Britain in 1776. The found­ing fath­ers of the new nation were men of the Enlightenment. A century later, America was a great modern industrial nation that had absorbe­d many more influences, including romantic sensib­ility and religious re­vivalism. So by the time Church and his colleagues painted their luminous, sublime landscapes, America was already an established nation with a strong sense of its own identity. Their landscapes evoked westward expansion, and the discov­ery of the­ wilderness as a spiritual symbol.

    In von Guerard’s time Australia had not yet reached a comparable level of national identity. Federation (1/1/1901) was still more than a gen­era­tion away and post gold-rush colonial society was growing rapidly, with a boom in urban population. Australia was still transitioning from a coll­ect­ion of small colonies.

    Bourke Street West, 1886, by Tom Roberts,
    Credit: National Gallery of Australia, Canberra 

    Down on his luck. 1889, by Frederick McCubbin
    Credit: National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

    Two decades later, in the 1880s, the Heid­elberg School was named after an area in outer Melbourne where they started painting en plein air. Fred­erick McCubbin (1855-1917), Tom Roberts (1856–1931), Arthur Streeton (1867–1943), Walters Withers (1854—1914) and some­times Charles Conder (1868–1909) achieved a more con­fid­ent sense of belonging. Admit­ted­ly drawing on naturalist and Impress­ionist ideas, they turned from inspiring sub­jects to farming set­tings. They sought to capture Australian life, the bush and the harsh sunlight that typ­if­ied this country, and a more confident sense of settlement. 

    Some of the loveliest pictures done by the Heidelbergers were the little oil sketches on cigar box lids that composed the fam­ou­s 9 x 5 Impression Exhibition in Melbourne in 1889. Note the use of the term Impression­ist here, as explained in Table Talk magazine in June 1889.

    So why did the 2007 exhibition at the NGV, Australian Impress­ion­ism, call the most loved group of Australian artists “impres­s­ionists”, not “Heidelbergers”. The title of the 2007 exhibition reflected the view that Heidelberg School art was a credible Australian expression of the move towards natur­al­istic, plein-air painting that was popular in France, acr­oss Europe and in North America. Aust­ral­ians were part of internationalism and modernity!

    Even as recently as 2016, the Nat­ion­al Gallery of Australia sent Australia’s Impressionists Exhib­ition to London’s National Gal­l­ery. But British critics were puzzled. Streeton’s Fire’s On! (1891) was far from what they thought of as Im­pressio­nism, and Roberts’s A Break Away! (1891) could not be fitted into a European framework.

    I created the same mix-up in this blog, absorbing the spec­ific­ally Australian Heidelberg School into International Impres­sion­ism. “By 1901, Elioth Gruners first work was accepted for hanging in the Society of Artists Spring Show. See the small oil sketches of Sydney beaches 1912-4, very much in the tradition of the 9 x 5 Impressions shown at Buxton’s Rooms in Melbourne in Aug 1889. Gruner claimed his big influence was Roberts, possibly explaining why he was event­ually seen as the heir to the Impress­ion­ist past­oral tradition of Australian art of the Heidelberg school”. 

    Now Allen is asking us to understand the specif­icity of C19th Aus­tralian art, distinguishing it from the superficially com­parable Impressionism in Europe or the USA. Consider the times. In 1870-71, France was humiliatingly defeat­ed in the Franco-Prussian War, Emperor Napoleon III abdicated, the republic was proclaimed and Paris was besieged by the German army. Then it was taken over by a radical movement called the Commune 1871, which was quickly put down in a bloody repression.

    There was little sign of any of these traum­at­ic ev­ents in the Impressionists’ art. French Impress­ion­ism was specif­ic­ally react­ing to historical circumstances by avoiding the pain. Their emphasis was on the per­s­onal, authentic experience of transient phenomena. In  Claude Mon­et’s idyllic Le bassin d’Argenteuil (1872), the emph­asis was on delight in the clearing clouds and dawn light. French Im­pres­s­ionism wanted nothing to do with nat­ionalist themes.

    The Heidelberg painters, on the other hand, were intimately connected to the nationalist spirit in pre-Federation Aus­t­ralia. For ex­amp­le see Roberts’s por­trait of a young Austral­ian woman, An Aus­tralian Native (1888). And Streeton’s Golden Summer Eaglemont (1889) was an early morning scene with long dawn shadows and moving shade. The emphasis here was about inhabiting this land. The rising sun covered the Australian land in typical baking hot heat.

    Charles Conder was never as clearly focused on nationa­list identity as Roberts or Streeton. But Conder still contributed to the theme of being at ease in a new land, in works like The Yarra Heidelberg (1890).

    Australia’s Impressionists exhibition in London, 2017
    Credit: National Gallery London
    Fire’s On, 1891, by Arthur Streeton is on the right hand side. See it more clearly in Australian Bush Fires in Art 

    Of course these images had little in common with Monet and the other Im­pressionists’ palette. Rather than a high-keyed French palette, most of the pictures were tonal a la JAM Whistler. And they were less often studies of natural effects and more about modern life in Mel­bourne­ or in the rural outer suburbs, the booming economy and travel.

    Allen made a couple of exceptions. The late paintings of Mc­Cub­bin and turn of the century work by Emanuel Phillips Fox, Ethel Car­rick Fox, John Peter Russell and Tudor St George Tucker were more directly taken from French Impress­ionism, but only because those artists had direct contact with the Fren­ch. I agree. Phillips Fox had no major social or political theme, and the lei­sured life he depicted was not particularly Australian. Phillips Fox left Australia in 1887, before the inspirat­ion of the Heidelberg artists’ camps had fully developed. And he was outside Aus­tralia during all the nat­ional­ist excitem­ent leading up to Federat­ion. Like Mary Cassatt, Auguste Renoir and Berthe Morisot, Phillips Fox’s long white Ed­wardian dresses capt­ur­ed the light and atmosphere of a summer's day anywhere. 

    The exhibition "Australian Impress­ion­ism" is open at the National Gallery of Australia, Canberra until the end of Oct

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    Dr Henry Lew wrote Smitten by Cath­er­ine, the story of Catherine Rachel Mendes da Costa (1678-1756). Lew was stroll­ing through an auction house looking at furniture, and noticed a sp­ec­ial C18th watercolour copy of a Rubens oil painting, att­rib­uted to Catherine da Costa. Since I am particularly interested in the era when Jews were permitted to return to England in mid C17th, my question became: who was this little known artist?

    Lew started the story back in Spain and Portugal, from where the Jews were expelled in the 1490s.  The author focused on the strength of Manasseh Ben Israel whose family had fled to Amsterdam from Madeira in Por­t­ugal. In his 1652 book, The Hope of Israel, Manasseh noted that countries tol­er­ant of Jews were also those that flourish­ed economically. Man­asseh had tried to find a solution to counteract the Chris­tian concept of the oppressed homeless Jew; he reminded Whitehall that Jews always displayed civic loyal­ty. Manasseh was a man of grand vision, and had his portrait done by Rembrandt in 1636. But the man was a realist - he  had to accept less favour­able terms for Jews, if they were to be tolerated in England eg synagogues would only be permitted inside private homes.

    Catherine’s father, Fernando Mendes (born 1647), came from the town of Trancoso in Portugal, which had a Jewish community surviving as crypto-Jews. Under difficult circumst­anc­es, Fer­nando eventually moved from Portugal in c1660, first to France and then to England. His timing was excellent; Ol­iv­er Crom­well had allowed Jews to be readmitted as recently as 1656.

    Henry Lew's book cover
    The Victorious Hero... Concludes Peace, 1723
    by Catherine da Costa

    Fernando Mendes was sent to study Medicine at Montpellier University in 1666, graduating with his Doctorate in 1668. In 1669 he returned to London and went into business with his very wealthy first cousin, Alvaro Rodrigues da Costa. Alvaro was a man who was hugely successful trading inside the East India Company. So clearly Dr Mendes never had to rely on Medicine as his sole source of income. The quid pro quo for a successful life was that neither men could be Jewish - Fernando was a Catholic and Alvaro became a Protestant.

    Catherine de Braganza came from a senior noble house in Portugal, and lived there until she married King Charles II of England in 1662. An article of the marriage treaty was that Queen Catherine was allowed freely to practise her faith; her chapels in St James’ Palace and Somerset House were the only two places in London where Catholics could legally worship. Once again timing was critical. In 1678 Dr Fernando Mendes was app­oint­ed physician to King Charles II and Queen Catherine de Braganza. Mendes was paid a salary, and was provided with his own apartment in Somerset House, the Queen’s royal palace in London.

    Dr Mendes married Isabel Rodriques Marques, daughter of a devout Jewish merchant. Their first baby was born in Somerset House in late 1689. Queen Catherine, who could not have any babies herself, was del­ight­ed with the little girl, had her baptised in the palace and asked that she be called Catherine. Even after King Char­les’ death in 1685, Dr Mendes remained in the Dowager Queen’s service. And Catherine Mendes remained the god-daughter of Queen Catherine.

    I am sorry we learn so little about Catherine’s values, hopes and goals in the book. We DO know that she became a pupil of the famous min­iat­urist Bernard Lens III (1682-1740), a painter at the courts of kings George I and George II. In 1707 Lens became the first British artist to replace vellum, the most common material for miniatures, with ivory. (As Catherine did later). Catherine’s copy of Lens’ painting, The Vict­orious Hero Takes Occasion to Conclude Peace, must have been very influential on the young woman.

    In 1698 Catherine married her cousin Anthony Moses da Costa, a young merchant, and had three children. Like his father, Anthony became a leading figure in East India trade, and in banking. He was ad­mired by Voltaire, rejected by the Russian Company because of being Jewish and was appointed commissioner for the new American colony of Georgia.
    Top: Bernard Lens, Portrait of a Lady called Mary Queen of Scots (1720)
    Middle: Catherine da Costa, Self Portrait (1720)
    Bottom: Catherine da Costa, her son Abraham (born 1704)

    Anthony and Catherine lived in two lovely homes in London. She was exposed to the impressive operas and oratorios of contemporary George Frederick Handel. And she read the Enlightenment philosophers Locke and Hume. Yet Jewish life in England was ambivalent. Catherine knew that Jews often hid their Jewish identity, that inter-marriage and conversion were common, allowing access to important nat­ion­al organisations. Moreover Catherine witnessed impoverished Sephardi Jews, still fleeing persecution. These Jews could become the subject of anti-Semitic stereotypes in England.

    Why would a Jewish artist paint a Madonna and Child? Henry Lew re­iterated that Portuguese Marranos had been living as Christ­ians since the 1490s. And remember that Catherine’s father Fernando and her father-in-law Alvaro were both committed Christ­ians. Perhaps Catherine saw Sofonisba Anguis­s­ola’s Madonna and Child (1556, p65) and adored it.

    Catherine’s oeuvre was worth examining. Her Self-Portrait was my favourite (1720, p64); the well-dressed artist was busy working at her easel. The Portrait of her Father Dr Fernando Mendes showed a well dressed gentleman in a wig, in front of his impressive library (1721, p46). And her portraits of her son Abraham da Costa (1714, p66) and her Double Portrait of Two Children were sensitive (not dated, p68). Only the portrait of London mer­chant Francis Jacob Salvador (1720, p67) was, in my opinion, not very sensitive.

    Dr Lew, an opthamologist for 40 years, authored 6 other books. For Smitten by Catherine, he has published a limited edition of 500 copies in hardback. This beautiful book was complete with plates of Cath­er­ine’s art, works by her teacher Bern­ard Lens III, and the original painting by Rubens that Cath­erine cop­ied. Readers might like to locate an old catalogue of the exhib­it­ion Jewish Artists in England 1656-1956, held at the White­chapel Art Gallery, Nov-Dec 1956.


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    Coal was essential for military production during WW2; somehow Britain had to match the quotas needed to keep fact­ories churn­ing out the munitions required at the front. And as Britain was unable to import coal in wartime, the production of coal from local mines had to be increased. But how? 36,000 miners were already cons­crip­t­ed for army duty and had left their collieries.

    Ernest Bevin, wartime Minister of Labour and National Service and a former Trade Unionist, believed the short­age could be remedied by using conscripted men to fill the vacancies in the mines, keeping production at the rates requir­ed. In Dec 1943 he announced a scheme in Parliament.

    A ballot would take place to put a fixed perc­ent­age of cons­cript­ed men into the underground collieries rather than into the armed services. “We need 720,000 men continuously employed in this industry. This is where you boys come in. Our fighting men will not be able to achieve their purpose unless we get an adequate supply of coal.” Any refusal to comply with the Direction Order would result in a heavy fine and/or imprisonment under the Emergency Powers Act in force back then.

    Bevin Boys' first day down the mine
    Photo credit: Express

    Bevin boys training with a pit pony
    Photo credit: Bevin Boys Photo Grallery

    Every month, 10 numbers were placed in a hat; 2 numbers were drawn and those whose National Service registration number ended with those numbers were directed to the mining industry. Along these ballotees were the optants, men who had volunt­eered for service in the coal mines, rather than the armed serv­ices. From 1943-8, 48,000 young men between the ages of 18-25 were conscripted for Nat­ional Service Employment in British coal mines.

    After medical examinations, travel warrants & instructions, the men had to report to one of the thirteen Government Training Centre Collieries in England, Wales and Scotland. Accommodation was provided in either a purpose-built Miners Hostel similar to an army camp, or billeted out to a private home at £1.25/week from a weekly wage of £3.50.

    Each new miner was taught mining in a 6 weeks training course: classroom lectures, surface-and-underground training and physical fitness. Only a minority of Bevin Boys were actually employed cutting coal on the coal face, and others worked as colliers' assistants, filling tubs or drams. The maj­ority worked on maintaining haulage roads, or con­trolling underground con­veyor belts. The few who had previous electrical or engineering experience were given similar work in the collieries.

    This alternative to army service caused much dismay; many of the Bevin Boys wanted to join the fighting for­c­es, or felt that as coal miners they would not be valued.

    The Bevin Boys came from a range of backgrounds and skill sets. A few were true conscientious objectors who were being consc­rip­ted for essential but non-military work. Some were sons of privilege, and many were lads from big cities who had never even seen a coal mine. Whatever their background, by Dec 1943 one in ten conscripts found themselves in the mines instead of at the front.

    6 weeks of training for each intake of conscripts
    in classrooms, via vigorous physical training and in the underground mine
    Photo credit: PressReader

    A large proportion of the 48,000 Bevin Boys sent to Britain's coll­ieries disliked their time spent there. This was partially because they had been hoping to join the army, as noted. Plus many suffered vicious taunts from by-standers; coal miners wore no distinctive uniform so moral judgements were often made about the lads “shirking” from war service. Even the police would stop and question men of military age, if they suspected the men had avoided conscrip­t­ion.

    Finally a large number of reserved occupation miners also dis­liked the Bevin Boys. They saw the lads as a threat to their live­li­hoods and also as dangerous liabilities, given that most did not come from mining backgrounds. Worse, the local mining fam­ilies had already seen their own sons conscripted into the armed services, only to be replaced by very young, reluctant outsiders.

    Unlike the ordinary miners, who wore their own clothes, Bevin Boys were issued with overalls, safety helmet and working boots. But it was unfortunate that Bevin Boys a] were not given an identifiable war service uniform and b] were not released from their coal mines until several years after the war ended. This was long after their counter­parts in the armed forces had been demobbed.

    The mine-work was done in appalling conditions with no toilet facilities, working in areas that were hot, cold, wet, dusty or dirty. The constant noise of machinery was deafening. And there was always the fear that there could be an explosion resulting in fire or rock fall. [I am claustrophobic. That would have been my worst fear].

    The ballots were suspended in May 1945, with the last of the 50,000 conscripts working in the coal mines. The Bevin Boys had all been demobbed in 1948. A small number stayed in mining after the war, but most couldn't wait to leave.

    Unlike other conscripts, they had no right to go back to their previous occupations, they received no service medals, demob suit or even a letter of thanks. And because the official records were destroyed in the 1950s, former Bevin Boy ballotees could not even prove their service, unless they have kept their personal documents.

    Bevin Boys in Durham
    They were just teenagers, away from home for the first time
    photo credit: WW2inColor

    Many men who spent their war on the so-called underground front went unrecognised for almost half a century. Perhaps they were still embarrassed about not serving on the front. In any case, some men did eventually form the Bevin Boys Association in 1989 in Dorchester Dorset. The first official Bevin Boys reunion was held at the former Chatterley Whitfield Mining Museum in 1989.

    It took until 1995 for the British government to form­ally re­cog­nise the contribution of these men, by then old age pens­ion­ers. The Queen made a speech and unveiled the Home Front Mem­orial in Coventry. And in 2007, the Prime Minister Tony Blair announced that a special honour was to be presented to all conscripts who served in the mines. This was on the 60th anniversary of the last Bevin Boy being demobbed. Any living Bevin Boys are now officially allowed to take part in the Remembrance Day service at Whitehall.

    Many thanks to The Forgotten Conscripts by Warwick H Taylor  and the BBC’s The Coal Industry in Wartime by Dr Martin Johnes.


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    Michael Barclayinvited us to share his sensitive obituary. Gordon Downie (1964-2017) was born near Kingston Ont, to Lorna & Edgar. He was the 4th of 5 children, the one who played goalie for Amherst­view’s successful hockey team.

    Downie moved to Kingston to attend Kingston Collegiate Vocat­ional Institute. Coming from a rural area, his out­sider status became part of his public identity: the poet in the bar band; the rock star slumming it with indie kids while cosying up to intel­ligent­sia; the artist with a commer­cially successful cushion who thrived on chall­enging himself with new collab­orators and varied disciplines like dance, painting and act­ing. The rest of the Tragically Hip were scions of the King­ston elite. Downie could at least boast that he was connected to hockey royalty.

    He joined a punk band called The Slinks; their friendly rivals at the school were a Grade 13 group The Rodents, featuring bassist Gord Sinclair and guitarist Robbie Baker. A young drummer, Johnny Fay, watched with interest. Four of those five young men played their first gig as the Tragically Hip in Nov 1984, in a small white room at the King­ston Artists Association. Paul Langlois, son of the school's sports coach who Downie befriended, joined a year later; by that time, Downie was studying film at Queen’s and drinking.

    In the band’s first three years, they played ’60s cover songs by the Rolling Stones, Otis Redding, Mar­vin Gaye and the Monkees. Downie’s on-stage improvisations were a main part of the band’s appeal, though he was not yet a lyricist. As original material slowly seeped its way into the set, it was Gord Sinclair who wrote most of the lyr­ics. It wasn’t until the 1991 release of the band’s second album, Road Apples, that Downie seized the lyrical reins entirely.

    The Tragically Hip released their first EP in Dec 1987; a year later they headed to Memphis to record Up to Here. It became one of two Hip albums to eventually sell more than a million copies in Canada. They tapped into rock-n-roll’s primal energy in ways that had been largely forgotten by the late ’80s: they were a dressed-down, no-frills road­house bar band whose videos were rejected by MTV, a band whose sound was far removed from the era’s pop stars, stadium rock, ageing Boomers, newer bluesy bands. And they were too traditional and aspirational to be Alter­n­ative.

    It was their live performances, where Downie’s unusual charisma electrified everyone who saw them. No other act back then was embraced with the fervour that Hip fans displayed toward Downie as a performer, but it was his lyrics that inflamed his fans. In a genre prone to cliché, outright nonsense and occasional misogyny, Gord Downie wrote memorable lyrics.

    Canadians watched him command 40,000 people at outdoor appearances during the 1990s, singing songs that were summer soundtracks for an entire generation. Video clips didn’t do justice to the energy in the room generated.

    Downie’s specifically Canadian references were all but alien on radio playlists. He prized the anomaly - he’d arrive on stage and make strange Canadianisms, for no discernible reas­on. But there were likely to be as many American refer­ences as Canadian ones in Tragically Hip songs. So it’s telling that the album on which he made the most Canadian references was also their most commercially successful: Fully Completely 1992.

    Gord Downie

    His first solo, Coke Machine Glow 2001, had songs his Hip bandmates had rejected and works culled from an accom­panying book of poetry. And it set sales records in a corner of the pub­lishing industry. The album was raw, experimental and far removed from the rock radio world the Hip inhabited: droning organs, atonal guitar screeches and accordions compet­ed for sonic space with Gord’s vocals atop opiated folk-country songs. The press and music industry were baffled; among his peers, and especially among non-Hip fans, it remained a beloved and influential record.

    Solo albums were a pressure-release valve for Downie in the early 2000s, as the Hip became elder statesmen in danger of being taken for granted. Record sales and radio play declined somewhat. Later in the decade, he pushed the band to record two albums with Bob Rock and he helped broaden their sonic palette. His later solo records, including a rollicking, punkish 2014 album rec­orded with the Sadies, were remarkably conventional comp­ared to Coke Machine Glow. Downie loved to make rock records!

    And Downie directed his attention to envir­onmental issues, specifically those endorsed by Lake Ontario Waterkeeper, a Canadian water charity. Downie’s political aware­ness had been tweaked in 1993, when the Hip invited Australia’s Mid­night Oil on a sum­mer Canadian tour; that band’s singer, Peter Garrett, was an outspoken activist who later served as an Aus­tralian minister. Garrett and his bandmates became invest­ed in the fight against clear-cutting in BC, and convinced the Hip to join them. Years later, when he decided to be more vocal, Downie relied on research and science rather than on his celebrity.

    By 2016, when he released his Secret Path project to address the legacy of residential schools, he knew his celeb­rity was now his best asset: he had the country’s att­ention. The reluctant nat­ional­ist used it to focus specifically on an issue he felt was a glaring stain in Canada’s hist­ory. He quickly transformed the old tale of a 12-year-old boy who froze to death running away from residential school in 1966 into a current concern. This tragic symbol launched a Canadian conversation about compassion.

    Though he relished his role on stage, Downie’s app­r­oach to cel­ebrity was always tenuous. He rarely granted int­er­views, and generally eschewed red-carpet events. The entire band val­ued their privacy, and Downie even more so: perhaps because of the adulation directed his way, but also because of the way he was raised. It was, in a way, a very Canadian approach to celebrity.

    In 2015 the Huff­ington Post ran a rare piece of celeb­rity news about Downie, who’d steadfastly shielded his four children and wife from the public eye. That year the couple had separated, prompt­ing the sale of his Toronto home. And his beloved fath­er, Edgar, was ail­ing; Gord spent a lot of time with him in Kingston while rec­ording the Hip’s Man Machine Poem at a nearby studio. Ed­gar died in Nov 2015.

    The Tragically Hip, in London

    3 days after dad's funeral, Gord had a seizure. The hosp­ital diagnosed a primary glioblast­oma, an aggressive brain cancer. Months of surgeries and therapies followed. The band broke the news in May 2016, while simultaneously announcing a tour to promote the new album.

    It would be the last. Lead singer Gord Downie performed with band members Paul Langlois, Gord Sin­clair, Johnny Fay and Rob Baker at the Memorial Centre to launch the band’s latest Man Machine Poem tour. Once the show hit the road, there was a public outpouring that few could have pred­icted: a year of Downie transforming from an aging rock star to tragic hero.

    Here was a man wrestling with notions of mortality in his work for years. He was the poet who once asked “When are you thinking of disappearing? When are you falling off the map?” This was a man invit­ing us to his own wake. Everyone was prepared for the funeral at any moment.

    He made it. The final Tragically Hip show at the K-Rock Centre in Kingston in Aug was broadcast live on the CBC to 11.7 million viewers, with 20,000 people from across the continent assemb­led in Springer Market Square to celebrate. Then three more live shows, in Toronto, Ottawa and Halifax.

    In his last public appearance, Downie appeared at a WE Day event as part of Canada150 in Ottawa, once again calling on Canadian youth to reckon with the legacy of resid­ential schools. A children’s choir sang The Stranger, and the emotion and pride on Gord’s face was palpable.

    Downie’s lyrics imbued Canada’s mus­ic scene with mystery and magic and presented them, poetically, to a wide mainstream aud­ience. Do the work. Create the spark. When he finished, Gord Downie left an eternal flame. He passed away in Oct 2017.

    Michael Barclay's The Never-Ending Present: Story of Gord Downie and the Tragically Hip will be released Ap 2018.

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    I have never been to Romchamp and didn't know that Le Corbusier designed a 1950s chapel. But I was eavedropping on two Francophiles in a Melbourne espresso bar, and after buying them a cheesecake each, got the following brilliant blog post. Many thanks sisters, for your passion and for your European Traveler article by Henk Bekker.

    Ronchamp (pop 3000) is in the French region Franche-Comté, 418 ks SE from Paris, on the Swiss border near Belmont. In 1950, Swiss/French architect Le Corbusier(1887-1965) was comm­is­s­ioned to design a new Catholic church in 1950. He initially declined the invitation, but apparently became inspired by the site on a hill top that offered views in all four directions. Like the orig­in­al stone C4th pilgrimage chapel that was bombed during WW2, Chap­el­le Notre Dame du Haut de Ron­champ was to sit among a wooded terr­ain, 150m above the rest of the village.

    Chap­el­le Notre Dame du Haut de Ron­champ 
    consecrated 1955

    When Corbusier agreed to design Ron­champ, it had to be mod­ern, not just in its mat­er­ials and designs, but because it would fun­ction as a religious scul­p­ture. The Church leadership wanted to get rid of the chapel’s old decadence and ornament­ by embracing mod­ern art and arch­it­ect­ure. The chapel needed to be rebuilt as a med­itative and reflect­ive space void; spatial and relig­ious purity thus became one of Corbusier’s main focuses.

    The walls were mostly stark, whitewashed concrete, because restricted access required most of the structure to be produced onsite. Stones from the former church were used in the construction. Up to 2.7m thick, the southern wall was pierced by 27 windows of various sizes in glass. These window frames were like small tunnels that allowed soft light to be reflect­ed at a variety of angles throughout the day. There was no connection to stained glass; Le Corbusier considered that this form of illumination was too closely bound to old, Romanesque and Gothic architectural notions.

    The curving walls acted as a practical method of sup­p­orting the concrete and masonry construction, as well as the mass­ive curvi­linear mushroom roof which appeared to peel up to the heavens. The curve of a massive grey roof of the chapel seemed to be a mirror of the curve that the chapel sat on. It rested on embedded pillars hidden in the walls, rather than on the walls themselves, giving the imp­ression of the roof floating 10cm in the air. The cler­es­tory windows, fitted between the top of the walls and roof, helped provide the interior with more light.

    The Le Corbusier-designed chapel was consec­rated in 1955. It had an interior space for one altar, three chapels and c200 worshippers. The concave eastern wall had a second outdoor altar which allowed services for 1000 outdoor worshippers.

    As today's visitors always note, the light enters into the chapel where it appears inside as a washed-out, ethereal atmosphere. The effect of the light evokes emotional qualities that create height­ened sensations in tune with the religious activities. We know Corbusier designed small punct­uring apertures on the façade that amplified the interior light by tapering the window well in the wall cavity. Each wall became illuminated by these differing window frames, which in conjunction with the stark white washed walls, still gives the walls lum­inous qual­ities punct­uated by a more intense direct light.

    Above the plain altar, the east wall has several pinhole-windows and one substantial window with the Madonna and Child in silhouette. 

    Lunimous light coming  over the pews from 27 differently angled windows

    On the wall behind the altar in the chapel, the lighting effects create a speckled, starry pattern. And there is a larger opening above the cross that emits a flood of light, creating a powerful religious and emotional exper­ience.

    The church has three towers of between 20 and 27 m high. These provide space for the side altars inside the church and are lit through wind­ows fitted below the cement canopies. The chapel has no bells. The light is what gives meaning to the chapel.

    Chapelle Notre Dame du Haut de Ronchamp's interior has very limited décor­at­ions. The main nave is 25 x 13 m with the floor fol­l­owing the nat­ur­al uneven slope of the hill towards the main altar. Eight rows of wooden benches were added at the insistence of the church authorities – Le Corbusier would have preferred worship­pers to remain standing. Clearly this design was not typical of Le Corbus­ier’s rational, rather boxy funct­ionalism; instead it was to be an early postmodern design in a sculptural style, a modern response to a religious site. Still maintaining Le Corbusier’s principles of pur­­ity and openness, this is one of the most instantly recognisable designs of the mid C20th.

    The whitewashed concrete post-modern Chapelle Notre Dame du Haut is still a popular site for religious pilgrims and architecture lovers. The large enamelled door in this wall is used only for special pilg­rimage events such as Assumption of Mary Aug 15th and Nativity of the Virgin Mary Sept 8th. Three thick white walls curl inwards from the outside to create smaller chapels at the sides of the main space. Two sit on either side of the north entrance and one in the south-east corner next to the main entrance.

    Ron­champ has been on UNESCO's World Heritage List since 2016. The Le Corbusier chapel is privately owned and thus one of few places of Christian worship in France that charges admission fees. Buy guidebooks in the bookshop.

    See the small Pyramid of Peace designed by Le Corbusier and mostly constructed from rubble from the previous church. It is a mem­orial to the soldiers who died during the liberation of Ronchamp in September 1944.

    And see a modern monastery that was built into the hill in 2011 to house seven nuns. The project was criticised for ruining the app­ear­ance and the acropolis-like approach to the chapel, but it didn’t matter. The monastery was built into the slope of the land and was barely visible from the chapel.

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    The Arts Club was founded in 1863 to provide a haven for people who had professional or non-professional links to the Arts, Literature or Sciences. According to the club’s own home page, a small group of friends including Dickens and Trollope got together and drew in new members like Tennyson, Monet, Manet, Rodin and Winston Churchill soon after. In 1896, the Club relocated from its original home on Hanover Square to its present elegant C18th townhouse at 40 Dover St, offering its members a comfortable, arty and impressive base in Mayfair. In the basement, there is a live music club room and there is a contemporary art collection that looks like a professional gallery.

    Since then, the Club gave membership to many outstanding figures in the history of art, literature and science: writers like Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins; mus­icians like Franz Liszt; and artists Frederic Leighton, Walter Sick­ert, John Everett Millais, Auguste Rodin and James Mc­Neill Whistler, as well as famous professionals. The Arts Club sur­vived two world wars, despite a direct hit during the 1940 Blitz.

    In Sep 2011, the Arts Club was renovated and re-launched. The curr­ent mem­bers are involved in art, architecture, fashion, film, music, literature, perf­orm­ance, photography, science and theatre. It proud­ly contin­ues to be a hub for creative and entrepren­eurial patrons to come together to dine and participate in the events; thus the Club has reclaimed its central place in London’s modern cultural life.

    The Arts Club drawing room 

    The Arts Club’s collection includes the permanent display of works by three modern artists, alongside the Club's historic coll­ection of British/internat­ional artists and temporary exhibitions. And to show that there is more to the Arts Club than drinking oneself to a standstill, there are regular lectures and recitals.

    London’s other private members’ clubs continued with expan­sion. After WW2, clubs were still filled with the arts, but had to be louder, more hip and more sexy. Annabel's was founded in 1963 by entrep­ren­eur Mark Birley, the very educated son of the artist Sir Oswald Birley, favourite portrait painter of the royal family. Mark Birley had worked for Hermes, the luxury goods maker. When his friend John Aspinall turned a large Palladian house into the Cler­mont Club Casino, he offered Birley the lease on the base­ment. Ap­parently they needed somewhere to party, after an evening's gambling.

    Birley turned the basement of the Clermont Club Casino into a nightclub and blocked off the private staircase going up into the Clermont above. Since 1963, this intimate Berk­eley Square basement has attracted a gilded, glitt­ering clientele and aristo­crats. Named after Birley’s glamorous wife, now Lady Annabel Goldsmith, the club proudly declared it was a safe haven from journalists.

    Parts of this elegant and exclusive Mayfair site had a sumptuous interior: vaulted Moorish ceiling, pillars covered with antiqued brass and outstanding coll­ection of objets d’art. Each year there was a week of fashion shows, de­vised by the later fashion designer Alexander McQueen.

    Pavel Tchelitchew was the Russian-born surrealist painter, set designer and costume designer. Tchelitchew was born to a noble landed family, a man who left Russia for Berlin and then Paris in the 1920. Tchelitchew’s watercolours were perfect for two reasons. Firstly Birley was fascinated with Russian ballet. And secondly Tchelitchew was close with Gertrude Stein and the Sitwells.

    Posh yes, but Birley wanted to create some space that had the feel of an English country house. The room and bars and the little nooks were furnished with comfortable sofas, a large Buddha, soft armchairs and a wide range of art: oil paintings of Birley’s dogs next to works by Augustus John.

    Against this contemporary club backdrop, some of the older clubs in London that once serviced the wealthy and the glamorous have been getting a bit dusty, banking on exclusivity. Even Annabel’s also had another look at itself. In June 2007, after more than a year of negotiations, the clothing businessman/Ivy Restaurant owner Richard Caring bought Mark Birley’s valuable trio of Mayfair hangouts – Annabel’s, Harry’s Bar and Mark’s Club.

    Annabel's could now modernise, largely thanks to Guillaume Glipa, executive director of The Birley Group. Annabel’s was moved to a spect­acular Grade I-listed Georgian town­house at 46 Berkeley Square, just two doors from its current site in Berkeley Square. The new club was designed by Martin Brud­nizki, who was also respons­ible for the makeover of The Ivy.

    The new Annabel's has taken over 4 floors and will be offering three restaurants, two private dining rooms, six bars and a nightclub in the basement. New designs for the club include a £4 million retractable glass roof over a hidden garden-dining ter­race behind Berkeley Square seating 100 people. There will be a barber’s in the men’s room, with mother-of-pearl doors, a cigar shop and a wine shop. The 1963 club and restaurant is being turned into a health and wellbeing spa. The day club will be open from 7am to 4am.

     Annabel's dining room

    Annabel's mirrored room in the basement

    A bar at Annabel's       
    The Evening Standard has been inside. Annabel’s com­m­issioned the best craftsmen, design­ers and art­isans to use the most beautiful colours, textiles, materials and objects. The original Nina Campbell inter­iors have been updated for the C21st, while retaining Annabel’s trademark dusky mood. Note the hand-pleated crimson silk walling fabric and paisley-print carpets in the Indian Room.

    When this smart townhouse venue re-opens in Nov 2017, Berkeley Square will never have been so hot.

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    After thwarting the Turkish attack at Romani in Aug 1916 the Australian Light Horse brigades advanced with victories at Rafa, but were twice beaten at Gaza. There followed plans to capture Beer­sheba, which would allow for another attempt at Gaza.

    Today (31st October) the Australian Light Horse and New Zealand Mounted Rif­les were engaged in a battle that was the ANZACs' greatest charge ever.  The Auckland Mounted Rifles captured Tel el Saba from the Turks, a key to taking the outpost township of Beersheba. And today was the last great mount­ed charge by the 12th Light Horse Regiment of the Aust­ralian Imperial Force. Capturing Beersheba in 1917 was the turning point in the British campaign to ex­p­el the remnants of the Turkish Ottoman Empire.

    The Light Horse troopers horses were the famous Walers, mostly bred in the Hunter Valley. And most of the men were farming lads from the country, including from the Boorowa area of NSW.

    Australian Light Horse brigades

    Now for the centenary celebrations in Beersheba, let us add a smaller, but significant element to this history. Caroline Overington has written in detail about Albert Tibby Cotter (1883-1917) , the youngest of six sporting sons born to Scottish immigrant parents. His was not a poor family: they lived in a two-storey, solid brick mansion with its own stab­les, in the Sydney suburb of Glebe. The Cotter boys played cricket, rugby and boxing, and all attended Forrest Lodge public school. Then Tibby went to Sydney Grammar, where he played school­boy cricket.

    Tibby made his cricketing debut for NSW in 1901 at 18, and his Test debut against England at the end of the 1903-04 series. In his second Test, at the MCG, he starred. Cotter’s bowling style was fast and powerful; often he shattered the stumps, which teammates would then hold aloft, symbols of his power. During his first match in England in 1905, after he struck the legendary WG Grace a painful blow with his first full toss, England demanded that he stop bowling at the body, and Cotter’s fame was assured. His face was soon on the cover of newspapers throughout the British Empire.

    Thunder of a light horse charge' as the cavalry rides towards Beersheba,
    Oct 1917

    Cotter loved the limelight! A week before the 1907 Ashes began, he was arrested in Brisbane for being drunk in public, but bailed in time to open the Australian bowling. At the SCG in Dec 1907, his match-winning performance had the crowd stomping the boards in appreciation. In a nine-year international career, Cotter played 21 Tests, taking 89 wickets at an average of 28.6 runs. 

    When WWI broke out in 1914 Cotter was already 31 years old and work­ing as a clerk. He rushed to enlist, joining the AIF in April 1915. Despite having no great riding ability, Cotter was accepted into the 1st Australian Light Horse Regiment, serving as a stretcher bearer alongside fellow soldiers with vastly more skill (some were former stockmen, many of them Aboriginal; some were horse-breakers from NSW pastoral stations). He served at Gallipoli during the final stages of the campaign and upon his regiment’s return to Cairo, he was disciplined for being two weeks absent without leave.

    Later he transferred to the 12th Light Horse, where he was commended for his fine work under heavy fire during the second battle of Gaza. Cotter was promoted to lance corporal, but at his own request rev­ert­ed to the rank of trooper. He was part of the now famous Aust­ral­ian cricket team that played in slouch hats against an English side in the Palestinian desert in 1917. At the Australian War Memorial in Canberra, there is a photo of Australian soldiers taking part in a cricket match on an improvised pitch in the Sinai.

    Australian National Cricket Team, 1909
    Tibby Cotter, leading wicket-taker in the series. was at right end of the second row

    In the last cricket game he played, Cotter told a fellow soldier-cricketer that he did not think he would survive the war. On 31st Oct 1917, the 4th Light Horse Brigade captured Beersheba in a cavalry-style charge. Aust­ralian soldiers tore across the desert, and jumped over the Turkish trenches, cap­turing the town and its wells, and winning a decisive victory for the Allies.

    Cotter was among a handful of Australians that did not survive the battle. The story commonly told was that Cotter was shot by a sniper as he peeked up over a trench. But the Australians were not in the trench­es. Or as a stretcher bearer, was he killed by a Turk who had not been disarmed? Or did he jump straight into the battle with the charging soldiers, and got hit?

    The death of this interesting character sent the nation into mourn­ing and while he was the only Australian Test cricketer to die in WW1, many other international sports stars did. The names of the dead had filled column after column in the news­papers, for years. But Cotter's name stood out - he was hugely admired across the British Empire and was mourned by millions.

    Cotter was 34 when he died and his family was informed. They also had to grieve for Cotter’s older brother, Private John Cotter, who had been killed serving in the infantry in Belgium (weeks earlier in Oct 1917). Cotter’s remains were buried near where he fell, in Beer­sheba. 

    Recently his life has barely been celeb­rated, something that may change with today’s cent­enary of that great charge. The prime ministers of  Israel, Australia and New Zealand and other dignitaries are participating in the Beersheba Centenary.

    Australian horsemen commemorating the centenary of the Australian soldiers 

    You might like the book Tibby Cotter: Fast Bowler, Larrikin, Anzac, written by Max Bonnell and Andrew Sproul (Walla Walla Press, 2012). And Beersheba: Travels Through a Forgotten Australian Victory by Paul Daley (Melbourne University Press, 2011).

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    Art historians often cite rabbinical rulings against all Jewish art in the Middle Ages. But any such restrictions were limited to the geog­raph­­ic community where each ruling was given!! And in any case, they were no longer applicable by the C19th. Even better, national art schools and academies formally opened their doors to Jewish students in the C19th, in Britain, Italy, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Romania etc.

    Talented Jewish artists emerged. Moritz Oppenheim (1800-82), Solomon Hart (1806–81), Jozef Israels (1824–1911), Alphonse Levy (1843-1918), Maurycy Gottlieb (1856-79), Solomon J Solomon (1860–1927), Samuel Hirszenberg (1865-1908), Boris Schatz (1867-1932) and Ephraim Lilien (1874–1925) were certainly creating worthy careers for them­selves. Max Liebermann (1847-1935) was regarded as a pioneer of modern artistic dev­elopment.

    But in my opinion, the most import­ant of all C19th Jewish art­ists was Hungarian-born Is­­idor Kaufmann (1853-1921). Young Kaufmann studied at the professional art academy of Bu­d­apest, and Vienna, for a total of 5 years. Then he married a synagogue cantor's daug­hter in 1882, and had 5 child­ren. This was a painter who knew the outside art world but who was also very much a part of the large, traditional Jew­ish community in Vien­na.

    The question to ask is: could Kaufmann and these other young Jewish artists join the modern art world or would they be limited to de­p­icting religious events, Biblical characters and rabbis’ portraits? Richard Cohen in “Jewish Icons: Art and Society in Modern Europe” said that Kaufmann was less concerned than Moritz Oppenheim with encompassing the Jewish holidays, but more involved in uncov­er­ing the inner spirit of the Eastern European Jews in their daily life. I want to test Cohen’s view.

    Kaufmann, The Chess Player
     Sotheby's New York, 23rd June 1983, 
    26 x 21 cm 

    From the mid 1880s, Kaufmann began produc­ing detailed ge­n­re paint­ings i.e subjects taken from everyday life. Luckily he was an excel­lent draughts­man and colourist. There paintings were very small in size and in sub­ject mat­t­er, but then genre paint­ing has nothing going for it except for honesty and domesticity. The paintings were set in cold, bare and totally un-idyllic contexts, but with lots of pleas­ure coming from friendship, family closeness or religious studies. And the details of a family home were painted with the same meticul­ousness that we might have expected from Ver­­m­eer, con­cent­ra­ting on the archit­ect­ural detail of rooms and on the psychological auth­en­ticity of his mod­els. There was not much politicising going on here.

    The Chess Player sat on a bare chair in a room of bare grey walls, his red nose, heavy coat and top hat suggesting the coldness of the space. But the cold didn’t matter. Intellectual pursuits were more important that fine furnishings: books remained open on a table, ready to be read again, once the chess strategies had been decided.

    The Chess Pl­ay­ers (c1886, not shown) there were two ordinary workers, friends sit­ting down to a quiet game at home. Their clothes were a very ordinary and they apparently couldn't afford to put even a rug on the fl­oor, but the men were enjoying the contest and tak­ing it very ser­ious­ly. We assume that each chess decision was carefully considered, be­f­ore each move was made.

    Kaufmann, Chess Problems
    c1889, 31 x 40 cm

    Chess Problems dealt with a similar event, but this time the two men were considerably better dressed and the room was furnished with comfort and with style. While the compos­ition of this paint­ing was similar to the composition of The Ch­ess Pl­ayers, and the attention they paid to the game was sim­ilar, were the bare headed men were not Jewish? Presumbly it would not have mattered, in Vienna's contemporary world.

    Kaufmann, Two Pairs of Shoes
    c1889, 38 x 31 cm

    In Two Pairs of Shoes, an elderly Jewish man was shown assessing his stock from the table top where he sat. Perhaps business was going well enough; there seemed to have been a quiet smile on his face, and a satisfying cigaret­te in his hand. Clothes and shoes were heaped everywh­ere, in the suit case, on top of the table and over the screen. Note the det­ailed attention paid to the books, clock and vase in the back of the room. 

    Kaufmann, Commerical Instruction 
    1890-1, 40 x 31 cm
    private collection 

    Commercial Instruction used a title similar to Business Secret but was more tender. Using virtually the same furn­i­t­ure and lights as The Rabbi's Visit, this painting told the story of a religious father and son spending time together. However instead of bonding over religious studies, this father was teaching his son about business. The lesson must have been appealing because the little boy was fascinated.

    Kaufmann, Business Secret 
    c1894, 33 x 28 cm

    In Isidor Kaufmann by G Tobias Natter (1995) I found eleven small, wonderful genre scenes painted in 1884-95. Two Pairs of Shoes, The Chess PlayersNo Fool Like An Old FoolChess Pro­blemsRabbi's VisitBusiness SecretCom­merc­ial Inst­r­uct­ionA Business Transaction etc were all pain­ted in the corner of a lounge room, usually with one or two fig­ures. In this short per­iod, Kauf­mann st­ruck a gold mine, as it were. He creat­ed detailed, finished and pain­terly works, about small issues. Pl­easure, religious or secular, was depic­ted.

    Business Secret showed two poorly dressed men talking conf­identially about secondhand items for sale. A third man poked his head through the window, possibly eaves­dropping on the deal. By stres­sing the shabby hawk­ers with blatantly Jewish features, Natter suggested this painting verged on the cartoonish. But I think it was painted very much in the same tender vein as the others.

    Consider the wide range of C19th Jewish artists who operated outside both ancient Rabbinic tradition and stark, secular modernism. In the suddenly mobile, changing world of the latter C19th, how could Jewish artists come to terms with their own identities and approach the task of represent­ation? Appropriately The Emergence of Jewish Artists in C19th Europe, at New York's Jewish Museum 2001, presented 21 painters who offered radically different responses to this complex question. The book by the same name (Susan Tumarkian Goodman ed, Merrell Publishing NY, 2001) is excellent. 

    Richard McBee suggested Jewish artists like Kaufmann were able to address a broad public for the first time; they were interested in representing Jewish life and showing it to be on a par with Chris­tian life. Their art documenting everyday life was shaped by the community and changed by modernity, so it had to do a balancing act between emancipation and assimilation. Kauf­mann reminded the modern viewer that Jewish art acquired a changing and vital importance as an aspect of cultural iden­t­ity.
    Kaufmann, Rabbi with a Young Student, 
    53 x 68 cm, 
    Sotherby's New York, 19th Dec 2012 

    Then something changed for Kaufmann. Viennese genre scen­es no longer satisfied the need to discover his vibrant Jew­ish roots. In the later 1890s, he chose to go in search of mat­erial in Jewish towns across the Austro-Hun­g­ar­ian Em­pire and Po­land. He travelled every summer and returned to his Vienna studio to turn the sketches into completed paintings.

    A work from this later era was Rabbi with A Young Student. Kaufmann reflected the pride he felt for the traditional religious life. The teacher displayed a sense of solemnity and perhaps wisdom. The young student was caught in a moment of rapt attention, his eyes focused on the text before him. Learning was clearly the hallmark of traditional Jewish life. The walls were plain but the book case was handsome, filled with beautiful leather bound volumes.

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    Built in Belfast by the British shipping company White Star Line, the three Olympic-class ocean liners were RMS Olympic (1910), RMS Titanic (1911) and HMHS Britannic (1914). For both Olympic and Titanic, the pas­s­enger accommodation was of unrivalled extent and magnific­ence, and the excellent result defies improvement. The Olympic and the Titanic could each carry 3,295 people: 2,435 passengers and a crew of 860. Travellers were separated into 3 classes: 689 in first class, 674 in second class and 1,026 in third class.

    First class stair case

    RMS Titanic had ten decks: cabins and public areas were located on the Promenade, Bridge, Shelter, Saloon, Upper, Middle and Lower Decks. The other three decks were reserved for the crew, cargo and machinery.

    The first class public rooms included a dining saloon, reception room, restaurant, lounge, reading and writing room, smoking room and the veranda cafes and palm courts. During Titan­ic's design, entirely new features were added: swimming pool, Turkish baths, squash courts and a gym. The saunas were decorated in an Arabian style. For whom were these luxurious facilities intended? A complete list of all first class passengers, their ages, fares and professions, can be seen in The Encyclopaedia Titanica.

    1] First Class Accommodation. Titanic had 39 private suites. All had up to five different rooms: 2 bedrooms, 2 wardrobe rooms and a private bathroom. These expensive, exclusive staterooms boasted excellent fittings, decorated in different periodic styles including Louis XVI, Louis XV, Georgian and Queen Anne.

    First class accommod­ation also held 350 cheaper standard cabins with single beds.

    First class cabin, bedroom

    First class cabin, private loungeroom

    2] The First Class Reading and Writing Room was really designed for use by travelling first class women. It was painted in white and furnished very elegantly. There was a huge bow window that enabled the ladies to lookout on to the Promenade Deck. There was a large fire which burned intensely adding warmth to the room.

    3] The First Class Lounge was situated on the Promenade Deck and was elaborately fitted out. This room was dedicated to reading, con­ver­sation, playing cards and other social interactions of the day. It was decorated in the French Louis XV style. The craftsmanship was exquisite. The walls were covered with elaborate wooden carving which gave the room a distinct symmetrical appearance.

    4] Towards the back of the Promenade Deck was the very fine First Class Smoke Room. The walls were panelled in mahogany, carved in the Georgian style and were inlaid with mother of pearl. Above the centrepiece fireplace was a painting by Norman Wilkinson called the "Approach to the New World”. Those who required an after dinner drink could find exactly what they want­ed in the well stocked bar. Others enjoyed walking around the room looking at the painted glass windows depicting different ports from around the world, and other White Star Line ships. On the port­side of the room was a small Veranda area, which led to the Palm Court areas overlooking the aft Promenade Deck. Walled trellises with climbing plants gave the impression that the room was part of a con­ser­vatory. Passengers could sit on wicker chairs to finish their drinks.

    5] The First Class Grand Staircase was GRAND. It was 60+’ from the lower landing to the glass skyline above. It had a C17th William and Mary style with solid oak carved panelling running all the way around. At the foot of the stairs was a Cherub light with a dist­inc­t­ive wood carving clock behind.

    6] Behind the Grand Staircase was the spacious First Class Reception Area. It was decorated in the Jacobean style and had a white ceiling and a dark rusty colour carpet. Before dinner, saloon passengers could gather to discuss the day's activities aboard the ship. Some would sit on one of the many floral patterned Grandfather Chairs to be found there. The Reception Room led directly to the Dining Room.

    7] Elite passengers certainly dined in style. The First Class Dining Room was 114’ long and spanned the full width of the ship. Seating 532 passengers at once, it was the largest dining room ever seen on a ship. The room was decorated in attractive Jacobean style, painted in peanut white and filled with luxurious and comfortable oak furn­iture. The decoration had been the result of research based on Hatton Hall in Derbyshire.
    First class dining room

    The Last Dinner on the Titanic, by Gary Fisher, found that there were only two menus recovered from the Titanic for the last night aboard. The first-class menu started with the First Course (Oysters Hors D'Oeuvres), the Second Course (Cream of Barley Soup), the Third Course (Poached Salmon with Mousseline Sauce) and continuing until the din­ers staggered through until the Tenth Course (Waldorf Pudding, Peaches in Chart­reuse Jelly, French Ice Cream Chocolate & Vanilla Eclairs). After the tenth course, fresh fruits and cheeses were available, then coffee, cigars and port.

    In the last years of the Edwardian era before WWI, priv­il­eged families ate and drank freely, guaranteed to increase the waistline and to shorten the lifespan. Food was rich and fatty, and each course was accompanied by a special wine or liquor in large quantities. My feeling is that the food consumed in the first class dining room, in the short time at sea, could have fed a small African nation for a year ☹

    8] The A La Carte Restaurant served the finest meals that were not included in the fares of its guests. It added an extra touch of class, since the room was decorated in Louis XIV style and had floor to ceiling panelling in French light brown walnut. Spec­ially mounted ornaments and mouldings gave a regal effect, candle-style lamps hung in the centre of the panels and silk curtains covered the large bay windows. Passengers could sit around the tables in groups of 2-8 people while an orchestra played from a raised platform.

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    On 11th of October each year, the United Nations celeb­rate In­ternational Day of the Girl Child, emphasising the needs and challenges that girls face. So this year I was interested in looking over my own posts on Fanny Hensel (1805–47), Felix Men­delssohn’s sister, compos­er and under-valued musical advisor. Unfort­unately I didn’t find very much.

    However it did get me onto a totally different search: for Maria Anna Mozart (1751–1829) aka Nannerl, Wolf­gang Amadeus Mozart (1756-91)’s older sister. They were the children of musician and composer Leopold Mozart and Anna Maria Pertl of Salzburg.

    Maria Anna was taught harpsichord by her father Leopold. So they enjoyed a great childhood, indulging their musical creat­iv­ity and creating their own musical world. In fact Leopold took the two children to tour the most cultural cities across Europe, perform­ing together as child prodigies. Acc­ord­ing to all reports, the youngsters impressed both audiences and critics.

    But it was possible that the Mozart girl was really the better musician. Leopold Mozart confirmed it in writing, saying “My little girl plays the most difficult works which we have… with incredible precision and so excellently. What it all amounts to is this, that my little girl, although she is only 12 years old, is one of the most skilful players in Europe.”

    Wolfgang and Nannerl Mozart
    by Eusebius Johann Alphen
    portrait miniature on ivory, c1765

    Birthplace Museum, Salzburg

    As Nannerl and Wolf­gang’s musical talents developed, her ador­ing youn­g­er brother loved her work. At a con­cert, when Wolf­gang an­n­ounced that the piece he has just played was writ­ten by his sister, Leop­old was furious. He ordered Nannerl to never comp­ose music again!

    Clearly Nannerl must have composed. Note in 1762 when the two children played for aristocrats in Munich, Count Karl von Zin­zendorf wrote: “The little child from Salzburg and his sister played the harpsich­ord. The poor little fellow plays marvel­l­ously. He is a child of spirit, lively, charming. His sister’s playing is masterly, and he applauded her.” When Wolfgang was in London working on his first symphony during 1764-5, she wrote it all down and orchestrated it for him. And when she sent one of her com­pos­itions to her brother in 1770, he responded in a delight­ful let­ter, filled with admiration for her work. So why are we not familiar with the music Nannerl composed?

    Note the oil painting commissioned by Leopold Mozart at Salz­burg and created by Johann Nepomuk della Croce. Wolf­gang and Nannerl were shown playing four hands on a forte-piano. Leopold had his violin and quill, showing that he was both a musician and a writer. The portrait on the wall was of the late Mrs Mozart. And the figure of Apollo represented the family’s music talents.

    Mozart family: Nannerl, Wolfgang, father Leopold and portrait of their late mother, 
    by Johann Nepomuk della Croce, 1780-81

    Leopold had already stopped Nannerl from touring across Eur­ope and from then on, Leopold focused all his attentions on Wolf­gang. Despite being noted as an outstanding forte pianist, her father thought it inapp­rop­riate for his daughter to have a pro­f­essional career, regardless of her talent. Leopold exp­lained that only noble women were allowed to play, unpaid, at their own dinners and cult­ural salons. Yet Nannerl had to remain at home and give piano lessons to wealthy students, to finance her brother’s Italian tour! Nannerl obeyed her father, but became very depressed.

    By the time Nannerl reached marriageable age, her father vetoed her first choice of husband. So she did not marry her eventual husband, the magistrate Johann Baptist Franz von Berchtold zu Sonnenburg (1736-1801), until 1784.

    Then there were huge demands on Nannerl’s energy. Berchtold’s first two wives had died and he had been left with five child­ren, whom Nannerl helped raise. Plus they had three children of their own: Leopold (born 1785), Jeanette (born 1789) and Maria Babette (born 1790).

    Did Nannerl stop composing? None of her music was known to have survived, so there are three possibilities. 1] She did continue composing, but the material was lost or destroyed, 2] she did con­t­inue composing, but her works were wrongly or sneakily attributed to Wolfgang, or 3] she never composed ag­ain. All that is cert­ain is that while Wolfgang became world renowned, Nannerl did not.

    New research by Australian scholar-conductor Prof Mart­in Jarvis identified Maria Anna’s musical handwriting, a disc­ov­ery that suggested she composed works used by her younger brot­her to learn piano. It has long been known that the note­book was used as a pedagog­ic­al aid by Mozart’s father, to teach Wolfgang to play piano - particularly the pieces the lad used early in his (short) career.

    Nannerl and Wolfgang’s relationship was beset by years of sep­aration and the preference of their father for his son, over the needs of his daughter. Nannerl’s dreams were over, and it seemed as if her depression was deepened by the ever-growing distance from the Mozarts. The siblings wrote to each other aft­er Leopold’s death, but Wolfgang's letters to her dealt only with the formal dispos­ition of Leopold's est­ate. I am not even sure if she associated with Wolfgang’s wife Constanze Weber and their children.

    When Wolfgang Mozart died in 1791, Nannerl dedicated herself to hon­our her brother by coll­ect­ing all his compositions and erect­ing monuments to him. After her husband Berchtold died in 1801, Maria Anna returned to Salzburg and supported once again by giving piano lessons! How ironic! She died in 1829, and was buried in Salzburg.

    Sylvia Milo’s play The Other Mozart: the forgotten genius of Mozart’s sister, opened in 2015. Milo wrote it because she had visited Mozart’s house in Vienna and saw a painting of the two sib­l­ings together. It showed a woman sitting next to Wolfgang Mozart, clearly look­ing like his equal.

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    After Prince Albert died in 1861, Queen Victoria (1819-1901) was devastated. Fortunately the Queen became very close to her gillie John Brown in Balmoral, a warn friendship that lasted for decades. When Brown died in 1883, Queen Victoria was devastated for a second time. Now we can analyse the third male relationship in the queen's life that started in 1887.

    But how close to real history is the film Victoria & Abdul, directed by Stephen Frears? Queen Vict­oria, Empress of India (Judi Dench) took her Indian responsibilities very seriously. She asked for two Ind­ians to travel from India to share in the Queen's Gol­d­en Jubilee in 1887.

    Mohammed Abdul Karim 1863–1909 (Ali Fazal), a Muslim born in British India, was selected to give the queen an Indian gift. But when the Queen wanted to employ these two Indian servants for the entire Jubilee year, Karim and Buksh had to be tutored in English and in British etiquette. After a journey by rail from Agra to Bombay then by mail steamer to Britain, the men arrived at Windsor Castle in June 1887. By Aug Karim was teaching the queen Urdu.

    After Karim told the Queen that he’d been a clerical worker in India, he was prom­ot­ed to the position of Munshi/teacher in Aug 1888. This was so that he would stay in Britain.

    The Queen's let­ters noted that her discussions with the Mun­shi were social, philosophical and political. Undoubtedly the Queen found in Abdul Karim a connection with a distant part of the world, and a confidante who could discuss intellectual issues with her. At Scotland’s Balmoral Castle, Karim was given the room once occupied by the late John Brown.

    In Nov 1888, Karim spent months back in India, in honour of his father Waziruddin. So the Queen wrote to the Vice­roy of India, Lord Lansdowne, demanding action on Waziruddin's pen­sion. Unfortunately the film didn’t mention Karim's many trips back to India and the very close bond with the father. [Note that in June 1892, Wazi­ruddin visited Brit­ain and stayed at both Balmoral and Windsor Castles!]

    Poster for the "Victoria and Abdul" film, 2017 

    On the other hand the film made it crystal clear that Karim's swift rise instantly angered the members of the Roy­al House­hold, who would never have socialised with Indians out­side the nobility. The Queen naively expected them to welcome Kar­im. As did Karim.

    The rapidity of Abdul’s advancement would have led to his unpopularity in any case, but racism was ev­ery­­where; it went hand in hand with a strong belief in Britain's global dominion. Because the queen found racism intolerable, her private secretary Sir Henry Pons­onby (played superb­ly by Tim Piggot-Smith) had to neg­otiate between the Queen and her courtiers after each incident.

    The film clearly showed them at Balmoral in Sept 1889 when the two of them stayed overnight, in an isolated house on the estate where Victoria had been with John Brown. The film also showed the “Queen vis­iting Abdul twice daily, in his room taking Hind­ustani lessons, sign­ing her boxes, examining his neck, smoothing his pillows.” It was almost dom­es­t­ic.

    Clearly the ageing Queen did not trust her own son and the Royal Household to look after the Munshi after her death. So she asked the Viceroy of India, Lord Lans­downe, to grant Karim land near Agra. The Viceroy reluctantly cooperated.

    In May 1892 Karim was in India on leave and re­turned to Britain with his wife and mother-in-law in hijabs. They were put in roy­al houses at Windsor, Balmoral & Osborne. And partic­ipated in Christ­mas presentations.

    Note the connections. When Lansdowne's term ended in 1894, Lord Elgin took over. Ponsonby's son Frederick was Elgin's aide-de-camp in In­dia, then an officer in charge of royal horses in Brit­ain. Fred­erick wrote to Lord Elgin in Jan 1895 about the court's discomfort with the Indian.

    In the Queen's 1895 Birthday Honours, Karim was appointed a Com­panion of the Order of the Indian Empire, despite the political oppos­it­ion. After Britain’s 1895 general election, Prime Minister Lord Rosebery and Secretary of State for India Henry Fowler were re­placed by Lord Salisbury and Lord George Hamilton. Lord Hamilton suggested the Indian might become a tool in the hands of other, more dangerous men. In fact some of the resent­ment at court and in government occurred because of the Munshi did, or might have, tak­en political advant­age of his position.

    The advisors also feared Karim's link to Rafiuddin Ah­med, an Indian political activist/student in London who was con­n­ected to the Mus­lim Patriotic League. They suspected Ahmed extracted confid­ential information from Karim to pass to the Af­ghanistani Amir. As the political anxiety in Britain cont­inued, why didn’t the film discuss these political fears?

    And there was another concern. Lord Elgin was warned by Lord Pon­sonby that the Queen gave his letters to the Munshi to read, and that consequently his correspondence to her should not be seen as secure. Most people agreed with the suspicions of her House­hold that the Munshi could have influenced the Queen's op­in­ions on Indian issues, biasing her against Hindus, in favour of Mus­lims. But suspicions that he passed secrets to Rafiuddin Ahmed were later discounted.
    Karim never had any children. The Queen's Dr James Reid explained it was because Karim had VD.

    Queen Victoria and Abdul preparing correspondence
    in c1890s

    In Mar 1897 as members of the Household prepared to depart for Cimiez in southern France for the Queen's annual visit, they in­sisted that Karim not accompany the royal party, and threatened to resign en masse if he did so. Dr Reid even warned the Queen that her attachment to Karim led people to question her san­ity.

    Even as late as 1899, members of the Household were still main­taining that Karim could not accompany the royal party when they on holiday. Nonetheless Karim asked Victoria for the title of Nawab, and to app­oint him a Knight Commander of the Order of the Indian Empire. Despite a hor­rified Lord Elgin, Victoria gave Karim the order in 1899.

    The Munshi returned to India in Nov 1899 for a year. Lord Cur­zon, Elgin's replacement as Viceroy, died in June 1900. By the time Karim returned to Britain in Nov 1900 Victoria was facing death. He'd served her during the final 15 years of her reign, taking her from tired and grumpy, and gaining her maternal love.

    Filmed in exquisite detail at Osborne House, this excellent film ended with the Queen’s death.  The newly crowned King Edward VII (Ed­die Izzard) sent the Munshi family back to India, and had almost all of Victoria and Karim’s letters burned. At last the king and all his aristocratic lovers were happy at court.

    The Munshi died at Karim Lodge, on his Agra estate in 1909. He was placed in the Agra cemetery bes­ide his father. Having no children, Munshi’s nephews inherited the estates. The family continued to reside in Agra until the partition of India in Aug 1947, after which they emigrated to Pakistan.

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    The cultural and linguistic diversity of Australia's resident population has been reshaped over many years by migration. In 2015, 28.2% of the resident population was born over­seas (6.7 million persons). As would be expected from a major member of the British Commonwealth of nations, the greatest proportion of these migrants came from the United Kingdom (5%) and New Zeal­and (3%). And increasingly, migrants are arriving from China (2.0%), India (2%), the Philippines (1%) and Viet­nam (1%). The fastest rate of increase over this period was for people born in Nepal, Pakistan, Brazil, India and Bang­ladesh.

    As a result of this diversity, Pauline Hanson's party, One Nation, has arisen as a strongly nationalist, right-wing and populist party in Australia. One Nation was founded in 1997, by then-member of the Conservative Party in Federal parliam­ent, Pauline Hanson. Dis-endorsement came before the 1996 federal election because of comments she made about Indigenous Australians, Muslims, Asians & immigration. Hanson also critic­ised the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission.

    Condemning multiculturalism, One Nation has rallied against government immigration and multicultural policies. Along with Immigration Minister Kevin Andrews, she once drew a link between African migrants and “crime, HIV, TB and leprosy”. Hanson said "You can't bring people into the country who are incompatible with our way of life and culture. They get around in gangs and there is escalating crime that is happening."

    Hanson's maiden speech in the Australian Senate, 2106
    photo credit: SBS

    Does it matter what One Nation believes? Yes, it does. At the 2016 Federal election the party polled only 4% of the nationwide primary vote in the Senate, but in Queensland her party gained 9+% of the Senate vote! The primary effect at both state and federal levels could be to split the conservative parties’ vote and in particular to threaten the National Party's support base in Queensland.

    When Pauline Hanson made her incendiary first speech to the Senate in 2016, all the Greens senators walked out. She claimed the nation was "in danger of being swamped by Muslims" with its people "living under sharia law and treated as second-class citizens" if urgent changes weren't made to immigration policies. She claimed they "bear a culture and ideology which is incom­pat­ible with our own" and called for an end to all immigration. She called for an end to halal certification and for a ban on the construct­ion of any further mosques - with those existing to be monit­ored, saying she did not believe Australia could remain secure under current immigration policies.

    Just in case Australians didn't understand One Nation’s racism, Hanson added "Muslims are imprisoned at almost three times the average rate. The rate of unemployed and public dep­endency is two to three times greater than the national aver­age. Muslims are prominent in organised crime with associated violence and drug dealing. Anti-social behaviour is rampant, fuelled by hyper-masculine and misogynist culture. Multiple social surveys find that neighbours of Muslim settlement are suffering from collapsing social cohesion and fear of crime."

    Since being elected to the parliament, One Nation has voted with the Conservative government on welfare cuts and to rest­ore the Australian Building and Construction Commission ag­ainst unions. Pauline Hanson also called for penalty rates to be abolished entirely, but failed in that endeavour. She opposed the plan to extend the taxpayer-funded paid parental leave scheme because it “could encourage women to get pregnant to access government benefits”.

    What will happen in the upcoming state elections in Queensland and in the next federal elections, if they have to be declared earlier than expected?

    Golden Dawn in Greece
    photo credit: New Statesman

    If you think that after WW2 an uber-nationalist, anti Semitic, anti-migration, anti-welfare party could never gain the bal­an­ce of power in civilised European countries, I urge you to examine re­cent polling results for:
    1. the far-right Freedom Party in Aust­ria;
    2. the Anti-European Union, Anti-Islam Party for Freedom in the Netherlands that incites discrimination against Muslims;
    3. Poland’s right-wing Law and Justice party. The neo-Nazi group, The Radical Camp organised a huge white-supremacist rally in Warsaw and flew racists from Slovakia and Hungary to join in.
    4. Hungary’s right-wing, anti-Semitic Fidesz party and its ally even further to the right, Jobbik;
    5. France’s anti-immigration and anti-European Union National Front party;
    6. Greece’s most prominent neo-Nazi movement, Golden Dawn who found a new surge in support following Donald Trump’s ban on travellers from some Muslim-majority countries into the USA;
    7. Alternative für Deutschland in Germany is anti-Islamic, anti-Semitic and Eurosceptic; and
    8. The True Finns are strongly nationalist, Eurosceptic and anti-globalist.

    I cannot directly compare Trump in the USA with Europeans because he is Head of State and not a politician in the nation’s parliament. However examine his executive order temporarily banning imm­ig­rants, travellers and refugees from seven Muslim-majority countries - it perfectly defines his “disdain for human rights”. Examine his “rampant sexism”, “obsession with national security”, “obses­sion with crime and punishment”, and “rampant corruption and cronyism”. Of all the Early Warning Signs of Fascism on the list, so far “fraudulent elections” is one of the few than can be excluded from Trump’s list of achievements.