Scientific American Supplement, No. 460, October 25, 1884 by Various

V >> Various >> Scientific American Supplement, No. 460, October 25, 1884

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Within a short period sulphurous acid has become an important element in
the preparation of an excellent pyro developer for gelatine plates; and as
it is more or less unstable in its keeping qualities, some easy method of
preparing a small quantity which shall have a uniform strength is
desirable. A method recently described in the _Photographic News_ will
afford the amateur photographer a ready way of preparing a small quantity
of the acid.

[Illustration]

In the illustration given above, A and B are two bottles, both of which can
be closed tightly with corks. A hole is made in the cork in the bottle, A,
a little smaller than the glass tube which connects A and B. It is filed
out with a rat-tail file until it is large enough to admit the tube very
tightly. The tube may be bent easily, by being heated over a common
fish-tail gas burner or over the top of the chimney of a kerosene lamp, so
as to form two right angles, one end extending close to the bottom of the
bottle B as shown.

Having fitted up the apparatus, about two ounces of hyposulphite of soda
are placed in the bottle A, while the bottle B is about three-fourths
filled with water--distilled or melted ice water is to be preferred; some
sulphuric acid--about two ounces--is now diluted with about twice its bulk
of water, by first putting the water into a dish and pouring in the acid in
a steady stream, stirring meanwhile. It is well to set the dish in a sink,
to avoid any damage which might occur through the breaking of the dish by
the heat produced; when cool, the solution is ready for use and may be kept
in a bottle.

The cork which serves to adapt the bent tube to the bottle A is now just
removed for an instant, the other end remaining in the water in bottle B,
and about two or three ounces of the dilute acid are poured in upon the
hyposulphite, after which the cork is immediately replaced.

Sulphurous acid is now evolved by the action of the acid on the hypo, and
as the gas is generated it is led as a series of bubbles through the water
in the bottle B as shown. The air space above the water in bottle B soon
becomes filled by displacement with sulphurous acid gas, which is a little
over twice as heavy as air; so in order to expedite the complete saturation
of the water, it is convenient to remove the bottle A with its tube from
bottle B, and after having closed the latter by its cork or stopper, to
agitate it thoroughly by turning the bottle upside down. As the sulphurous
acid gas accumulated in the air space over the water is absorbed by the
water, a partial vacuum is created, and when the stopper is eased an inrush
of air may be noted. When, after passing fresh gas through the liquid for
some minutes, no further inrush of air is noted on easing the stopper as
before described after agitating the bottle, it may be concluded that the
water is thoroughly saturated with sulphurous acid and is strong enough for
immediate use. More gas can be generated by adding more dilute sulphuric
acid to the hypo until the latter is decomposed; then it should be thrown
aside, and a fresh charge put in the bottle. On preparing the solution it
is well to set the bottles on the outside ledge of the window, or in some
other open situation where no inconvenience will result from the escape of
the excess of sulphurous gas as it bubbles through the water.

The solution of sulphurous acid, if preserved at all, ought to be kept in
small bottles, completely filled and perfectly closed; but as it is very
easy to saturate a considerable quantity of water with sulphurous acid gas
in a short time, there is but little inducement to use a solution which may
possibly have become weakened by keeping.

Care should be taken not to add too much dilute acid to the hypo at a time,
else excessive effervescence will occur, and the solution will froth over
the top of the bottle.

* * * * *

THE NATIONAL MONUMENT AT ROME.

About three years ago the Italian Government invited the architects and
artists of the world to furnish competitive designs for a national monument
to be erected to the memory of King Victor Emanuel II. at Rome. More than
$1,800,000 were appropriated for the monument exclusive of the foundation.
It is very seldom that an artist has occasion to carry out as grand and
interesting a work as this was to be: the representation of the creator of
the Italian union in the new capitol of the new state surrounded by the
ruins and mementos of a proud and mighty past. Prizes of $10,000, $6,000,
and $4,000 were donated for the first, second, and third prize designs
respectively. Designs were entered, not only from Italy, but also from
Germany, France, Norway, Sweden, England, and America, and even from
Caucasus and Japan.

[Illustration: THE UNION OF ITALY. SACCONI'S PRIZE DESIGN FOR THE
NATIONAL MONUMENT, ROME, ITALY.]

The height and size of the monument were not determined on, nor was the
exact location, and the competitors had full liberty in relation to the
artistic character of the monument, and it was left for them to decide
whether it should be a triumphal arch, a column, a temple, a mausoleum, or
any other elaborate design. This great liberty given to the competitors was
of great value and service to the monument commission, as it enabled them
to decide readily what the character of the monument should be but it was a
dangerous point for the artists, at which most of them foundered. The
competition was resultless. Two prizes were given, but new designs had to
be called for, which were governed more or less by a certain programme
issued by the committee.

In place of the Piazza de Termini, a square extending from the church of
St. Maria degli Angeli to the new Via Nazionale, to which preference was
given by the competitors, the heights of Aracoeli were chosen. The monument
was to be erected at this historic place in front of the side wall of the
church, with the center toward the Corso, high above the surrounding
buildings. The programme called for an equestrian statue of the King
located in front of an architectural background which was to cover the old
church walls, and was to be reached by a grand staircase.

Even the result of this second competition was not definite, but as the
designers were guided by the programme, the results obtained were much more
satisfactory. The commission decided not to award the first prize, but
honored the Italian architects Giuseppi Sacconi and Manfredo Manfredi, and
the German Bruno Schmitz, with a prize of $2,000 each; and requested them
to enter into another competition and deliver their models within four
months, so as to enable the commission to come to a final decision. On June
18, the commission decided to accept Sacconi's design for execution, and
awarded a second prize of $2,000 to Manfredi.

Sacconi's design, shown opposite page, cut taken from the _Illustrirte
Zeitung_, needs but little explanation. An elegant gallery of sixteen
Corinthian columns on a high, prominent base is crowned by a high attica
and flanked by pavilions. It forms the architectural background for the
equestrian statue, and is reached by an elaborately ornamented staircase.

Manfredi's design shows a handsomely decorated wall in place of the
gallery, and in front of the wall an amphitheater is arranged, in the
center of which the equestrian statue is placed. Bruno Schmitz' design
shows a rich mosaic base supporting an Ionic portico, from the middle of
which a six column Corinthian "pronaos" projects, which no doubt would have
produced a magnificent effect in the streets of Rome.

* * * * *

ON THE EVOLUTION OF FORMS OF ORNAMENT.

[Footnote: From a paper by Prof. Jacobsthal in the _Transactions_ of the
Archaeological Society of Berlin.--_Nature_.]

The statement that modern culture can be understood only through a study of
all its stages of development is equally true of its several branches.

Let us assume that decorative art is one of these. It contains in itself,
like language and writing, elements of ancient and even of prehistoric
forms, but it must, like these other expressions of culture, which are
forever undergoing changes, adapt itself to the new demands which are made
upon it, not excepting the very arbitrary ones of fashion; and it is owing
to this cause that, sometimes even in the early stages of its development,
little or nothing of its original form is recognizable. Investigations the
object of which is to clear up this process of development as far as
possible are likely to be of some service; a person is more likely to
recognize the beauties in the details of ornamental works of art if he has
an acquaintance with the leading styles, and the artist who is freed from
the bondage of absolute tradition will be put into a better position to
discriminate between accidental and arbitrary and organic and legitimate
forms, and will thus have his work in the creation of new ones made more
easy for him.

Hence I venture to claim some measure of indulgence in communicating the
results of the following somewhat theoretical investigations, as they are
not altogether without a practical importance. I must ask the reader to
follow me into a modern drawing-room, not into one that will dazzle us with
its cold elegance, but into one whose comfort invites us to remain in it.

The simple stucco ceiling presents a central rosette, which passes over by
light conventional floral forms into the general pattern of the ceiling.
The frieze also, which is made of the same material, presents a similar but
somewhat more compact floral pattern as its chief motive. Neither of these,
though they belong to an old and never extinct species, has as yet attained
the dignity of a special name.

The walls are covered with a paper the ornamentation of which is based upon
the designs of the splendid textile fabrics of the middle ages, and
represents a floral pattern of spirals and climbing plants, and bears
evident traces of the influence of Eastern culture. It is called a
pomegranate or pine-apple pattern, although in this case neither
pomegranates nor pine-apples are recognizable.

Similarly with respect to the pattern of the coverings of the chairs and
sofas and of the stove-tiles; these, however, show the influence of Eastern
culture more distinctly.

The carpet also, which is not a true Oriental one, fails to rivet the
attention, but gives a quiet satisfaction to the eye, which, as it were,
casually glances over it, by its simple pattern, which is derived from
Persian-Indian archetypes (Cashmere pattern, Indian palmettas), and which
is ever rhythmically repeating itself (see Fig. 1).

[Illustration: FIG. 1.]

The floral pattern on the dressing-gown of the master of the house, as well
as on the light woolen shawl that is thrown round the shoulders of his
wife, and even the brightly colored glass knicknacks on the mantel-piece,
manufactured in Silesia after the Indian patterns of the Reuleaux
collection, again show the same motive; in the one case in the more
geometrical linear arrangement, in the other in the more freely entwined
spirals.

Now you will perhaps permit me to denominate these three groups of patterns
that occur in our new home fabrics as modern patterns. Whether we shall in
the next season be able, in the widest sense of the word, to call these
patterns modern naturally depends on the ruling fashion of the day, which
of course cannot be calculated upon (Fig. 2).

[Illustration: FIG. 2.]

I beg to be allowed to postpone the nearer definition of the forms that
occur in the three groups, which, however, on a closer examination all
present a good deal that they have in common. Taking them in a general way,
they all show a leaf-form inclosing an inflorescence in the form of an ear
or thistle; or at other times a fruit or a fruit-form. In the same way with
the stucco ornaments and the wall-paper pattern.

The Cashmere pattern also essentially consists of a leaf with its apex
laterally expanded; it closes an ear-shaped flower-stem, set with small
florets, which in exceptional cases protrude beyond the outline of the
leaf; the whole is treated rigorously as an absolute flat ornament, and
hence its recognition is rendered somewhat more difficult. The blank
expansion of the leaf is not quite unrelieved by ornament, but is set off
with small points, spots, and blossoms. This will be thought less strange
if we reflect on the Eastern representations of animals, in the portrayal
of which the flat expanses produced by the muscle-layers are often treated
from a purely decorative point of view, which strikes us as an exaggeration
of convention.

[Illustration: FIG. 3.]

One cannot go wrong in taking for granted that plant-forms were the
archetypes of all these patterns. Now we know that it holds good, as a
general principle in the history of civilization, that the tiller of the
ground supplants the shepherd, as the shepherd supplants the hunter; and
the like holds also in the history of the branch of art we are
discussing--representations of animals are the first to make their
appearance, and they are at this period remarkable for a wonderful
sharpness of characterization. At a later stage man first begins to exhibit
a preference for plant-forms as subjects for representation, and above all
for such as can in any way be useful or hurtful to him. We, however, meet
such plant-forms used in ornament in the oldest extant monuments of art in
Egypt, side by side with representations of animals; but the previous
history of this very developed culture is unknown. In such cases as afford
us an opportunity of studying more primitive though not equally ancient
stages of culture, as for instance among the Greeks, we find the above
dictum confirmed, at any rate in cases where we have to deal with the
representation of the indigenous flora as contradistinguished from such
representations of plants as were imported from foreign civilizations. In
the case that is now to occupy us, we have not to go back so very far in
the history of the world.

[Illustration: FIG. 4.]

The ornamental representations of plants are of two kinds. Where we have to
deal with a simple pictorial reproduction of plants as symbols (laurel
branches, boughs of olive and fir, and branches of ivy), _i. e._, with a
mere characteristic decoration of a technical structure, stress is laid
upon the most faithful reproduction of the object possible--the artist is
again and again referred to the study of Nature in order to imitate her.
Hence, as a general rule, there is less difficulty in the explanation of
these forms, because even the minute details of the natural object now and
then offer points that one can fasten upon. It is quite another thing when
we have to deal with actual decoration which does not aim at anything
further than at employing the structural laws of organisms in order to
organize the unwieldy substance, to endow the stone with a higher vitality.
These latter forms depart, even at the time when they originate, very
considerably from the natural objects. The successors of the originators
soon still further modify them by adapting them to particular purposes,
combining and fusing them with other forms so as to produce particular
individual forms which have each their own history (_e.g._, the acanthus
ornament, which, in its developed form, differs very greatly from the
acanthus plant itself); and in a wider sense we may here enumerate all such
forms as have been raised by art to the dignity of perfectly viable beings,
_e.g._, griffins, sphinxes, dragons, and angels.

[Illustration: Fig. 5.]

The deciphering and derivation of such forms as these is naturally
enough more difficult; in the case of most of them we are not even in
possession of the most necessary preliminaries to the investigation, and
in the case of others there are very important links missing (_e.g._,
for the well-known Greek palmettas). In proportion as the representation
of the plant was a secondary object, the travesty has been more and more
complete. As in the case of language, where the root is hardly
recognizable in the later word, so in decorative art the original form
is indistinguishable in the ornament. The migration of races and the
early commercial intercourse between distant lands have done much to
bring about the fusion of types; but again in contrast to this we find,
in the case of extensive tracts of country, notably in the Asiatic
continent, a fixity, throughout centuries, of forms that have once been
introduced, which occasions a confusion between ancient and modern works
of art, and renders investigations much more difficult. An old French
traveler writes: "J'ai vu dans le tresor d'Ispahan les vetements de
Tamerlan; ils ne different en rien de ceux d'aujourd'hui." Ethnology,
the natural sciences, and last, but not least, the history of technical
art are here set face to face with great problems.

[Illustration: FIG. 6.]

In the case in point, the study of the first group of artistic forms that
have been elaborated by Western art leads to definite results, because the
execution of the forms in stone can be followed on monuments that are
relatively not very old, that are dated, and of which the remains are still
extant. In order to follow the development, I ask your permission to go
back at once to the very oldest of the known forms. They come down to us
from the golden era of Greek decorative art--from the fourth or fifth
century B.C.--when the older simple styles of architecture were supplanted
by styles characterized by a greater richness of structure and more
developed ornament. A number of flowers from capitals in Priene, Miletus,
Eleusis, Athens (monument of Lysicrates), and Pergamon; also flowers from
the calathos of a Greek caryatid in the Villa Albani near Rome, upon many
Greek sepulchral wreaths, upon the magnificent gold helmet of a Grecian
warrior (in the Museum of St. Petersburg)--these show us the simplest type
of the pattern in question, a folded leaf, that has been bulged out,
inclosing a knob or a little blossom (see Figs. 3 and 4). This is an
example from the Temple of Apollo at Miletus, one that was constructed
about ten years ago, for educational purposes. Here is the specimen of the
flower of the monument to Lysicrates at Athens, of which the central part
consists of a small flower or fruits (Figs. 5 and 6).

[Illustration: FIG. 7.]

The form passes over into Roman art. The larger scale of the buildings,
and the pretensions to a greater richness in details, lead to a further
splitting up of the leaf into acanthus-like forms. Instead of a fruit-form
a fir-cone appears, or a pine-apple or other fruit in an almost
naturalistic form.

In a still larger scale we have the club-shaped knob developing into a
plant-stem branching off something after the fashion of a candelabrum, and
the lower part of the leaf, where it is folded together in a somewhat
bell-shaped fashion, becomes in the true sense of the word a campanulum,
out of which an absolute vessel-shaped form, as _e.g._ is to be seen in the
frieze of the Basilica Ulpia in Rome, becomes developed.

[Illustration: FIG. 8.]

Such remains of pictorial representation as are still extant present us
with an equally perfect series of developments. The splendid Graeco-Italian
vessels, the richly ornamented Apulian vases, show flowers in the spirals
of the ornaments, and even in the foreground of the pictorial
representations, which correspond exactly to the above mentioned Greek
relief representations. [The lecturer sent round, among other
illustrations, a small photograph of a celebrated vase in Naples
(representing the funeral rites of Patroclus), in which the flower in
question appears in the foreground, and is perhaps also employed as
ornament.] (Figs. 7 and 8.)

The Pompeian paintings and mosaics, and the Roman paintings, of which
unfortunately very few specimens have come down to us, show that the
further developments of this form were most manifold, and indeed they form
in conjunction with the Roman achievements in plastic art the highest point
that this form reached in its development, a point that the Renaissance,
which followed hard upon it, did not get beyond.

[Illustration: FIG. 9.]

Thus the work of Raphael from the loggias follows in unbroken succession
upon the forms from the Thermae of Titus. It is only afterward that a freer
handling of the traditional pattern arose, characterized by the
substitution of, for instance, maple or whitethorn for the acanthus-like
forms. Often even the central part falls away completely, or is replaced by
overlapping leaves. In the forms of this century we have the same process
repeated. Schinkel and Botticher began with the Greek form, and have put it
to various uses; Stuler, Strack, Gropius, and others followed in their wake
until the more close resemblance to the forms of the period of the
Renaissance in regard to Roman art which characterizes the present day was
attained (Fig. 9).

Now, what plant suggested this almost indispensable form of ornament, which
ranks along with the acanthus and palmetta, and which has also become so
important by a certain fusion with the structural laws of both?

[Illustration: FIG. 10.]

We meet with organism of the form in the family of the Araceae, or aroid
plants. An enveloping leaf (bract), called the spathe, which is often
brilliantly colored, surrounds the florets, or fruits, that are disposed
upon a spadix. Even the older writers--Theophrastus, Dioscorides, Galen,
and Pliny--devote a considerable amount of attention to several species of
this interesting family, especially to the value of their swollen stems as
a food-stuff, to their uses in medicine, etc. Some species of Arum were
eaten, and even nowadays the value of the swollen stems of some species of
the family causes them to be cultivated, as, for instance, in Egypt and
India, etc. (the so-called Portland sago, Portland Island arrowroot, is
prepared from the swollen stems of _Arum maculatum_). In contrast with the
smooth or softly undulating outlines of the spathe of Mediterranean Araceae,
one species stands out in relief, in which the sharply-marked fold of the
spathe almost corresponds to the forms of the ornaments which we are
discussing. It is _Dracunculus vulgaris_, and derives its name from its
stem, which is spotted like a snake. This plant, which is pretty widely
distributed in olive woods and in the river valleys of the countries
bordering on the Mediterranean, was employed to a considerable extent in
medicine by the ancients (and is so still nowadays, according to Von
Heldreich, in Greece). It was, besides, the object of particular regard,
because it was said not only to heal snake-bite, but the mere fact of
having it about one was supposed to keep away snakes, who were said
altogether to avoid the places where it grew. But, apart from this, the
striking appearance of this plant, which often grows to an enormous size,
would be sufficient to suggest its employment in art. According to
measurements of Dr. Julius Schmidt, who is not long since dead, and was the
director of the Observatory at Athens, a number of these plants grow in the
Valley of Cephisus, and attain a height of as much as two meters, the
spathe alone measuring nearly one meter. [The lecturer here exhibited a
drawing (natural size) of this species, drawn to the measurements above
referred to.]

[Illustration: FIG. 11.]

Dr. Sintenis, the botanist, who last year traveled through Asia Minor and
Greece, tells me that he saw beautiful specimens of the plant in many
places, _e.g._, in Assos, in the neighborhood of the Dardanelles, under the
cypresses of the Turkish cemeteries.

The inflorescence corresponds almost exactly to the ornament, but the
multipartite leaf has also had a particular influence upon its development
and upon that of several collateral forms which I cannot now discuss. The
shape of the leaf accounts for several as yet unexplained extraordinary
forms in the ancient plane-ornament, and in the Renaissance forms that have
been thence developed. It first suggested the idea to me of studying the
plant attentively after having had the opportunity five years ago of seeing
the leaves in the Botanic Gardens at Pisa. It was only afterward that I
succeeded in growing some flowers which fully confirmed the expectations
that I had of them (Figs. 10 and 11).

[Illustration: FIG. 12.]

The leaf in dracunculus has a very peculiar shape; it consists of a number
of lobes which are disposed upon a stalk which is more or less forked
(tends more or less to dichotomize). If you call to your minds some of the
Pompeian wall decorations, you will perceive that similar forms occur there
in all possible variations. Stems are regularly seen in decorations that
run perpendicularly, surrounded by leaves of this description. Before this,
these suggested the idea of a misunderstood (or very conventional)
perspective representation of a circular flower. Now the form also occurs
in this fashion, and thus negatives the idea of a perspective
representation of a closed flower. It is out of this form in combination
with the flower-form that the series of patterns was developed which we
have become acquainted with in Roman art, especially in the ornament of
Titus' Thermae and in the Renaissance period in Raphael's work. [The
lecturer here explained a series of illustrations of the ornaments referred
to (Figs. 12, 13, 14).]

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