John French Sloan, McSorley’s Bar, 1912

 


I was sitting in mcsorley’s

E. E. Cummings 1923

I was sitting in mcsorley’s. outside it was New York and
beautifully snowing.

Inside snug and evil. the slobbering walls filthily push
witless creases of screaming warmth chuck pillows are noise
funnily swallows swallowing revolvingly pompous a the

swallowed mottle with smooth or a but of rapidly goes gobs
the and of flecks of and a chatter sobbings intersect with
which distinct disks of graceful oath, upsoarings the break
on ceiling-flatness

the Bar.tinking luscious jigs dint of ripe silver with warm-
lyish wetflat splurging smells waltz the glush of squirting
taps plus slush of foam knocked off and a faint piddle-
of-drops she says I ploc spittle what the lands thaz me kid
in no sir hopping sawdust you kiddo he’s a palping wreaths
of badly Yep cigars who jim him why gluey grins topple to-
gether eyes pout gestures stickily point made glints squint-
ing who’s a wink bum-nothing and money fuzzily mouths
take big wobbly foot-

steps every goggle cent of it get out ears dribbles soft
right old feller belch the chap hic summore eh chuckles
skulch. . . .

and I was sitting in the din thinking drinking the ale, which
never lets you grow old blinking at the low ceiling my be-
ing pleasantly was punctuated by the always retchings of a
worthless lamp.

when With a minute terrif iceffort one dirty squeal of soil-
ing light yanKing from bushy obscurity a bald greenish
foetal head established It suddenly upon the huge neck
around whose unwashed sonorous muscle the filth of a col-
lar hung gently.

(spattered)by this instant of semiluminous nausea A vast
wordless nondescript genie of trunk trickled firmly in to one
exactly-mutilated ghost of a chair,

a;domeshaped interval of complete plasticity, shoulders,
sprouted the extraordinary arms through an angle of ridicu-
lous velocity commenting upon an unclean table.and, whose
distended immense Both paws slowly loved a dinted mug

gone Darkness   it was so near to me, i ask of shadow won’t
you have a drink?

(the eternal perpetual question)

Inside snugandevil.   i was sitting in mcsorley’s
It, did not answer.

outside.(it was New York and beautifully, snowing. . . .

 

 

(Mostly) From Wikipedia

McSorley's Old Ale House, generally known as McSorley's, is the oldest "Irish" saloon in New York City. Opened in the mid-19th century at 15 East 7th Street, in today's East Village neighborhood of Manhattan, it was one of the last of the "Men Only" pubs, admitting women only after legally being forced to do so in 1970.

( "The place had long been a men-only establishment until 1970, when Ms. Shaum became the first female patron admitted under a new city ordinance banning discrimination against women in public places ...")

 

The aged artwork, newspaper articles covering the walls, sawdust floors, and the Irish waiters and bartenders give McSorley's an atmosphere reminiscent of "Olde New York". No piece of memorabilia has been removed from the walls since 1910, and there are many items of "historical" paraphernalia in the bar, such as Houdini's handcuffs, which are connected to the bar rail. There are also wishbones hanging above the bar; supposedly they were hung there by boys going off to World War I, to be removed when they returned, so the wishbones that are left are from those who never returned.

Two of McSorley's mottos are "Be Good or Be Gone", and "We were here before you were born". Prior to the 1970 ruling, the motto was "Good Ale, Raw Onions and No Ladies"; the raw onions can still be had as part of McSorley's cheese platter.

McSorley's is considered to be one of the longest continuously operating ale houses in the city due to the fact that during Prohibition it served a "near beer" with too little alcohol to be illegal.

When it opened, the saloon was originally called "The Old House at Home".

According to a 1995 New York Times "Streetscapes" article by Christopher Gray, the census taker who visited the Irish-born McSorley in 1880 recorded the year the founder of the pub first arrived in the United States as 1855, but immigration records show that he arrived on January 23, 1851, at the age of 18, accompanied by Mary McSorley, who was 16.

Founding owner John McSorley passed daily management to his son, William, around 1890, and died in 1910 at the age of 87. In 1936 William sold the property to Daniel O’Connell, a retired policeman and longtime customer. After O'Connell's death three years later, his daughter Dorothy O’Connell Kirwan assumed ownership. Upon her death in 1974 and that of her husband the following year, ownership passed briefly to their son Danny before the most recent proprietor, Matthew "Matty" Maher, who purchased the bar in 1977 and owned it until his death in January 2020.

Women were not allowed in McSorley's until August 10, 1970, after National Organization for Women attorneys Faith Seidenberg and Karen DeCrow filed a discrimination case against the bar in District Court and won. The two entered McSorley's in 1969, and were refused service, which was the basis for their lawsuit for discrimination. The case decision made the front page of The New York Times on June 26, 1970. The suit, Seidenberg v. McSorleys' Old Ale House (1970, United States District Court, S. D. New York) established that, as a public place, the bar could not violate the Equal Protection Clause of the United States Constitution. The bar was then forced to admit women, but it did so "kicking and screaming". In 1970 Barbara Shaum became the bar's first female patron. With the ruling allowing women to be served, the bathroom became unisex. Sixteen years later, in 1986, a ladies room was installed.

Until 2011, McSorley's maintained a mouser cat within its premises until a law was passed ending the practice.

In 2017, McSorley's added Feltman's of Coney Island Hot Dogs to their menu, the first time the menu was altered in over fifty years. Feltman's owner, Michael Quinn, was a long time employee at McSorley's, and during the late 19th century, Feltman's Restaurant at Coney Island was a popular destination for the McSorley family

Notable patrons

Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant, Teddy Roosevelt, and Boss Tweed. Cultural icons such as Woody Guthrie, Hunter S. Thompson, Brendan Behan, Paul Blackburn, LeRoi Jones, Christopher Morley, Gilbert Sorrentino, and George Jean Nathan, frequented the tavern. Folk singer/guitarist Dave Van Ronk used photos of himself outside the doors for album covers, and Wavy Gravy read poetry there. Dustin Hoffman was a patron. In the early 1910s, anarchist Hippolyte Havel became a regular. Mcsolrleys's most notable regular, however, was Cooper Union founder Peter Cooper who would regularly hold court in the back room. John McSorley instructed that his favorite chair be draped with a black cloth every April 4th following Cooper's 1883 death.

After the New York Rangers hockey team won the Stanley Cup in 1994, they took the cup to McSorley's and drank out of it; the resulting dent caused the NHL to take the trophy back for several days for repairs.

 

 



 

 

Roofs, Summer Night (1906)


MWW Artwork of the Day (8/2/15)
John French Sloan (American, 1871–1951)
Roofs, Summer Night (1906)
Etching on wove paper, 12.7 x 17.8 cm.
Wetmore Print Collection, Connecticut College, New London

In his late teens, John Sloan worked for a Philadelphia print dealer and bookseller and taught himself to etch by reading a handbook that described the technique. Between 1891 and 1904, he made approximately one hundred etchings for a publisher of calendars, illustrated books, and novelty items. After taking classes with Ash Can School painter Robert Henri, a proponent of realistic depictions of everyday life, Sloan applied these lessons to his printmaking when he embarked on the series New York City Life in 1905-06. Despite critical acclaim for the ten etchings in this series, the public found them too risqué, and Sloan initially exhibited and sold few of them. One of these prints, “Turning Out the Light,” is an example of the sort of innuendo that some viewers found objectionable. However, in choosing ordinary people for his subjects, Sloan was following the example of artists he admired, including Goya, Dürer, Rembrandt, and Hogarth, as well as contemporary illustrators. In fact, a humanitarian outlook informed much of his art, and part of the appeal of printmaking for him was that it made art more affordable and accessible. As art editor for the Socialist magazine The New Masses from 1910 to 1914, he also published many political and satirical drawings.

Primarily between 1891 and 1937, Sloan completed more than three hundred etchings, as well as a few prints in other mediums, before turning almost exclusively to painting. For printmaking, he usually drew from memory and then worked on his plates with various tools and chemicals, evolving his imagery through several states. “Subway Stairs,” for example, went through seven such states before Sloan settled on the version shown here. As the demand for his prints rose, he sometimes enlisted the services of professional printers to help print the edition.

[Source: Deborah Wye, “Artists and Prints: Masterworks from The Museum of Modern Art,” New York: 2004, p. 120]

Sloan is one of the featured artists in the MWW gallery:
* Ashcan School I: Urban Realism Comes to America








 

Helen Taylor Sketching (1916). John Sloan (American, 1871-1951). Oil on canvas. Everson Museum of Art.


As an instructor at the Art Students League in New York, Sloan quickly attracted a group of students during his summers in Gloucester. Classes consisted of outdoor painting—the primary reason Sloan left the city for summers in New England—where Sloan and his students ambled about the countryside, setting up easel and canvas on rocky outcrops and grass covered fields. Helen Taylor Sketching illustrates such a scene. Taylor was one of Sloan’s students, visiting Gloucester in the summer of 1916 from her home in Philadelphia.

 



Francis-Marie Martinez de Picabia, commonly known as Francis Picabia, was born on 22 January 1879. He was a French avant-garde painter, poet and typographist. After experimenting with Impressionism and Pointillism, Picabia became associated with Cubism. His highly abstract planar compositions were colourful and rich in contrasts. He was one of the early major figures of the Dada movement in the United States and in France. He was later briefly associated with Surrealism, but would soon turn his back on the art establishment.

Public collections holding works by Picabia include the Museum of Modern Art and Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York; the Philadelphia Museum of Art; the Art Institute of Chicago; the Tate Gallery, London; the Musée National d'Art Moderne, Paris; and Museum de Fundatie, Zwolle, Netherlands.

 

From 6 June through to 25 September 2016 at Kunsthaus Zürich and then from 21 November 2016 through 19 March 2017, the first retrospective of Picabia’s work in the United States, Francis Picabia: Our Heads Are Round so Our Thoughts Can Change Direction, took place at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, co-curated by Anne Umland and Cathérine Hug. The retrospective was widely discussed by international art critics such as Philippe Dagen from Le Monde.

Among the artists influenced by Picabia’s work are the American artists David Salle and Julian Schnabel, the German artist Sigmar Polke, and the Italian artist Francesco Clemente. in 1996, French artist Jean-Jacques Lebel initiated and co-curated the exhibition Picabia, Dalmau 1922 (with reference to Picabia’s solo exhibition at Galeries Dalmau in 1922) shown at Fundació Antoni Tàpies in Barcelona and the Musée National d'Art Moderne, Centre Pompidou. In 2002, the artists Peter Fischli & David Weiss installed Suzanne Pagé’s retrospective devoted to Picabia at the musée d'art moderne de la ville de Paris (MAMVP). The Museum of Modern Art, New York, organized a major retrospective of his entire career, shown from 21 November 2016 to 19 March 2017.



Colossal Statue of Ramesses II

 This massive statue was found in 1820 by the Italian traveler Giovanni Battista Caviglia. The Colossus of Ramesses II is an enormous statue carved in limestone, it is about 10m (33.8 ft) long, even though it has no feet, and is located near the village of Mit Rahina (Memphis).

A small museum has been built to house this magnificent piece. The fallen colossus was found near the south gate of the temple of Ptah, located about 30m from the huge limestone statue of Ramesses II. Some of the original colors are still partly preserved





Janus

 Janus was the god of beginnings and transitions in Roman mythology, and presided over passages, doors, gates and endings, as well as in transitional periods such as from war to peace. He was usually depicted as having two faces looking at opposite ways, one towards the past and the other towards the future.



Date A.D. 117-138.


 

Attributed to Gaspero Bruschi, active 1701-1780 after a model by Massimiliano Soldani, 1656-1740


 

Figure of Diana Being Bathed by Her Attendants.


 

Magnificent






 

Did the Ancient Greeks See Blue Like We Do?

 


By

 Anna Wichmann

 -

Although Greece is full of many shades of blue — iconic blue roofs found across the islands, rich sapphire seas, and bright blue skies — linguists and experts in the ancient world have long been puzzled by the conspicuous absence of a distinct word for the color in the country’s archaic past.

Yet does this mean that ancient Greeks could not see the color blue, as some argue, or that they just saw it differently, considering it not as a distinct color, but as part of a spectrum of shades?

We know that language, especially regarding colors, has a significant impact on the way we experience the world around us. As linguistic philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein wrote, “The limits of my language means the limits of my world.”

The Color Blue in the Ancient World

Surprisingly, the word blue is simply missing from nearly all other ancient languages. There is no distinct word for the color in Chinese, Hebrew, or Sanskrit. Rather, the color that we call blue is usually grouped in with other colors, like green.

Egyptians, however, did have a distinct word for the color blue, and not surprisingly, they were one of the only ancient peoples who had created blue dye from very early on in their history.

In the history of nearly all languages, the word for blue emerged much later than other colors. Through careful examination of ancient texts, linguists have discovered that almost all languages followed a fairly standard timeline of when names for distinct colors were introduced — black and white are the most ancient colors, followed by red.

In general, the way colors are referred to in Ancient Greek is completely different from most modern conceptions of them. Rather than describing a specific color, ancient Greeks frequently referred to the shade or tint of the hue instead, considering colors on a shade from dark to light.

Colors in Ancient Greek

In Ancient Greek, the word kyaenos was often used for colors on the darker end of the spectrum, including what we now know was violet, black, dark blue, brown, or dark green. Our modern word “cyan,” a greenish blue, comes from this word.

Glaukos was frequently used in reference to lighter colors, including yellow, grey, light green, or light blue. While both kyaenos and glaukos can be used for a range of colors, there were distinct words for the colors included in this range — except for blue.

Classicists have pored over Homer’s Iliad and the Odyssey, searching for any mention of the color blue, but it does not appear once in the texts. Although other colors such as black, red, white, yellow, and green are all specifically mentioned in Homer, blue incredibly never makes an appearance.

When referring to a specific color, ancient Greeks would often compare it to another object of the same shade. This makes Homer’s comparison of the sea not to the sky, or another blue-colored thing, but to wine, quite interesting. Throughout Homer’s poetry, the sea is referred to as “wine-dark.”

Strangely, Homer also refers to honey as “green” and sheep as “violet” in his work, leading 19th-century academics to believe that ancient Greeks were all colorblind, or hadn’t yet developed the necessary capabilities to see colors like we do now.

Early Theories

However, science has since revealed that humans indeed developed the ability to see colors on the spectrum of visible light tens of millions of years ago, long before the ancient Greeks.

This colorblind theory was used to fuel racist arguments regarding the biology of non-Europeans in the nineteenth century. Anthropologists took the theory about ancient Greek colorblindness and posited that, while modern Europeans had evolved past the ancient Greeks and could now see blue, non-Europeans were biologically “delayed.”

This theory was spread after anthropologists discovered that Aboriginal Australians living on Murray Island considered the sky to be black rather than blue.

These anthropologists believed that this signaled that the people of Murray Island lacked the capability to see the color. Instead, colors in their language are categorized as light or dark, on a spectrum from black to white. To them, the color of the sky was included with all dark colors, without its own distinct name.

The iconic blue roofs of the island of Santorini. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Linguists argue that ancient Greeks perceived blue in a similar way. Greeks certainly could see the color blue, but they didn’t consider it separate from other shades, like green, complicating how exactly they perceived the hue.

Language and Reality

In English, color can function in the opposite way linguistically. Consider the color pink: pink is on the red scale, so if we had no word for pink, it could easily be considered a light red, and we would call it such. Yet, as we have a distinct name for the color pink, we perceive it as a different color than red.

The Himba people, native to Namibia in southwest Africa, live a life largely separate from Western society, maintaining their ancient traditions, customs, and language to this day. Uniquely, the Himba people only have five words for color, which describe what most people would consider a group of many disparate shades.

For example, some greens, reds, beiges, and yellows, what many would consider to be wildly different, fall under the same word in the Himba tongue. Most interestingly, what we would consider to be different shades of green, the same color, are perceived as entirely different colors in the Himba language.

When linguists and scientists showed a color wheel featuring green squares, with one of them a very slightly different hue, the Himba people almost immediately picked out the differing shade, a feat that would take most others quite a while to accomplish.

However, when asked to pick out the bright blue square placed among the green ones, the Himba hesitated — while clearly a different shade, it falls under the same color name as green in the Himba tongue.

While some argue that this means that the Himba people “can’t see blue,” it’s clear that they can — they just perceive of it on a spectrum of color, much as the ancient Greeks surely did.