Jan

Art Discoveries: The Mystery in the Ceiling

by Meredith Mullins on January 25, 2021

A Humbert painting unveiled via curtain, showing art discovers that can inspire travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins and Charlie Meagher.)

What treasure is hidden in this Paris ceiling?
© Meredith Mullins/Charlie Meagher

Follow the Clues & Travel Through History

The world loves stories about surprising art discoveries—treasures that are unearthed via bizarre circumstances and that send the finder on a compelling journey, perhaps including travels through history.

In 1940, four teenagers followed their dog down a narrow cavern and found cave walls filled with hundreds of prehistoric paintings—the now famous Lascaux caves in France.

Cave painting of a horse from the Lascaux caves, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image courtesy of the French Ministry of Culture.)

A dog discovered the famous Lascaux cave paintings.
(Photo courtesy of the French Ministry of Culture)

An Arizona man sorted through things as he was getting ready to move to a retirement home. He found a few posters that he thought might be valuable and invited an appraiser to take a look. The appraiser’s eye wandered to a painting in the corner that had belonged to the man’s sister, a New York art collector. The discovery—a Jackson Pollock—perhaps worth millions once authenticated.
The photographic talent of eccentric nanny Vivian Maier was discovered when a storage locker was auctioned off after her death. It was filled with negatives she had never shared with anyone—street photography of New York and Chicago that captured the stark and beautiful reality of an unposed world.

Unexpected Surprises Close to Home

Often for such rewarding journeys, there’s no place like home.

Douglas and Claudie Hawes were about to move into a house that had been built in 1854 in the New Athens area of Paris.

This corner of the 9^tharrondissement was an upscale neighborhood with Greek-inspired mansions established around 1820 on the slope of the Montmartre hill. The area gained fame for celebrity inhabitants, including George Sand, Chopin, Delacroix, and Gustav Moreau.

As part of the house remodeling project, Claudie’s son removed a large white plastic sheet from the ceiling of the bedroom.

The uncovering revealed a sweeping overhead painting of a nude woman, reclining somewhere between earth and heaven, painted in the romantic realism style of the late 1800s. The painting had been hidden by the previous tenants—an order of monks.

A ceiling painting by Ferdinand Humbert in Paris, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The mystery painting in the ceiling
© Meredith Mullins

The signature in the corner of the painting was barely visible, so the artist remained a mystery—a puzzle to be solved years later by a local gallerist who confirmed the signature as F. Humbert. Not a familiar name . . . but an open door to an adventure of discovery.

The ethereal Venus had landed in the right house. The Hawes were an inherently curious couple. They loved the art of research—where each fact discovered leads to several new paths. Where puzzle pieces begin to fit together. Where, as with today’s internet rabbit holes and hours lost in click-frenzied treasure hunts, a dramatic story can unfold and characters emerge.

Claudie and Douglas Hawes, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Claudie and Douglas Hawes embark on new adventures in their search
to discover more about Humbert.
© Meredith Mullins

Discovering Humbert: A Noted Artist of His Time

A google search of Ferdinand-Jacques Humbert (1842–1934) does not reveal much. Such a short bio seems strange for an artist whose work was commissioned for some of the most famous buildings in Paris.

Ferdinand Humbert Self-Portrait
(Public Domain)

This lack of documentation made the Hawes’ research more difficult but also inspired them to write a book that would pay tribute to his contributions. They felt he was unjustly forgotten.

Pantheon Panels by Ferdinand Humbert, proving the value of art discoveries. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Pro Patria, commissioned murals by Ferdinand Humbert in the Paris Pantheon
© Meredith Mullins

Humbert’s eight panels in the Pantheon are in a place of honor. He captures the history and spirit of the Republic in the work titled Pro Patria (For the Homeland). The paintings took more than 25 years to finish, completed in 1900, because Humbert had to change the designs multiple times to meet the government’s changing priorities.

Idée de Famille, One of the Humbert murals in the Pantheon in Paris, proving the value of art discoveries. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Idée de Famille (Idea of the Family)—One of the Humbert murals in the Pantheon
© Meredith Mullins

Humbert reaches great heights in the Petit Palais, with two triumphant ceiling paintings—“The Triumph of Paris” and “The Triumph of the Intellectual.” This project took many years as well, interrupted by WW I. He completed the project when he was 81, with the help of his artist son André.

Paintings by Ferdinand Humbert in the Petit Palais in Paris, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Humbert’s paintings reach new heights in the Petit Palais.
© Meredith Mullins

Humbert’s paintings also oversee marriage after marriage in the Salle de Mariage in the Mairie of the 15^tharrondissement in Paris (the City Hall of the 15th arrondissement).

A painting by Ferdinand Humbert in the Salle de Mariage of the 15th arrondissement in Paris, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

The Salle de Mariage in the Mairie of the 15th arrondissement of Paris
© Meredith Mullins

More Art Discoveries: The Women in Humbert’s Life

The Hawes continued their research and discovered Humbert’s talent for painting portraits of women as well as his unique teaching role as a supporter of women artists (not so common in the early 20^thcentury), including students Marie Laurencin and Marguerite Carpentier.

As the Hawes worked to identify the subjects of the portraits, they met a gallerist who knew the goddaughter of one of the most frequent subjects. They visited the goddaughter, Monique Bouvier, in the Loire Valley and learned the story of her godmother Geneviève Dehelly, a well-known pianist.

Portrait of Geneviève Dehelly by Humbert
© Meredith Mullins

Monique provided photographs and letters showing the friendship of Dehelly and Humbert. In true soap opera form, Humbert was in love with Dehelly, but Dehelly loved another.

A old photograph in the foreground and Douglas Hawes in the background, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Finding clues in old letters and photographs
© Meredith Mullins

Dehelly’s soulmate was the poetess Jehanne d’Orliac. They worked together as a creative literature/music team, writing and performing together. They are buried together in Tours.

Another piece of the puzzle arrived in the form of the play “La Massière” (Translation: “The Treasurer”). The playwright Frédérick Lemaître was a good friend of Humbert. He wrote about Humbert’s artistic life and added insight into his character (if the dramatic interpretation is to be seen as based on some truth).

Portrait of Genevieve Dehelly with dramatic hat by Ferdinand Humbert, showing how art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Humbert’s tribute to his love and favorite portrait subject
© Meredith Mullins

The Mystery Portrait

The Hawes interest in Humbert grew with each new discovery, so they decided to acquire their own original work. A portrait, “Young Woman with Pipe,” came up for auction in Germany. The Hawes were the winning bidders.

They believed the model to be perhaps a prominent subject for painters of the day. But who is it? The mystery, for the moment, remains.

Young Woman with Pipe by Ferdinand Humbert in France, showing that art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Douglas Hawes.)

“Young Woman with Pipe” is now a part of the Hawes collection.
© Douglas Hawes

The Adventure Continues

The Hawes continue with their treasure hunt, but will bring these first chapters to a close as they finish their book for publication this year.

Ferdinand Humbert's painting on the ceiling of the Salle de Mariage of the 15th arrondissement, showing how art discoveries can lead to new adventures and travels to the past. (Image © Meredith Mullins.)

Ferdinand Humbert’s painting on the ceiling of the Salle de Mariage
of the 15th arrondissement
© Meredith Mullins

Oh, I see. As proven here, art discoveries can spark a journey and can open up worlds that have not yet been explored.

With that inspiring goal, let’s celebrate the start of 2021. Here’s to a new year, full of adventures, intriguing discoveries, and exploration both virtual and real.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins 6 Comments

France/France (Paris)/Travels to the Past

Jan

SOS: Save Our Skeuomorphs!

by Joyce McGreevy on January 4, 2021

A smartphone on a sailboat contains a compass app, a skeuomorph that carries a cultural memory of an ancient invention, the nautical compass. (Photo by TheHilaryClark and Pixabay)

What smartphone app resembles a 12th century nautical tool? The answer’s due south!
TheHilaryClark/ Pixabay

Skeuomorphs “Net” Cultural Memory

As we sail into a new decade, a titanic debate continues to rock the boat from port to computer port. On one side, designers who’ve jettisoned skeuomorphs. On the other, those who are still on board with them.

Should skeuomorphs be set adrift? Or treasured because they’re anchored in cultural memory? What are skeuomorphs, anyway?

Someone holds up a digital tablet with a compass app, a skeuomorph that incorporates a cultural memory of an older compass. (Photo by TheHilaryClark and Pixabay)

Some designers dislike skeuomorphs’ ties to the past, as in this digital version
of a nautical compass.
Geralt/ Pixabay

Say, That Looks Familiar

Even if you’ve never heard of them, you know them. In computing, skeuomorphs are digital images that mimic older, physical objects. The nearest examples are probably on your cellphone:

a retro telephone handset (digital phone app)
a postage stamp (email program)
a manual camera with lens and shutter button (photo app)
a cassette tape, as invented in 1963 (audio-record app)
a 1970s style pocket calculator (faster, high-capacity calculator app)

I say “probably” because neoumorphists are working hand over fist to replace such apps.

“Neou-whatzits?” Neoumorphists. This group practices a design style that features minimalistic, one-dimensional flat shapes. Moreover, they prefer either solid colors or no color at all. In short, they create neuomorphs.

The term neuomorph is itself a kind of skeuomorph. It mimics the old word to convey the idea of the new word. Maybe that’s why some practitioners prefer the term “Flat Design.”

A Flat Design compass shows that, unlike skeuomorphs, neoumorphs preserve little cultural memory of the older, physical object. (Photo by Villareallevi)

Flat design took apps in a new direction.
Villarreallevi/ Pixabay

Skewing Away from Skeuomorphs

Why have flat-friendly designers given the heave-ho to skeuomorphs?

For starters, it’s been 35 years since Apple featured skeuomorphs on the first personal computer. Imagine seeing an icon of a floppy disk on the device that made floppies obsolete. So why was it there? Because it made something new look comfortably old and familiar.

Like the cassette tape, floppy disks were physical objects manually inserted into a computer for the purposes of saving information. By contrast, the new computer required no disk. Instead, it showed a picture of one to help you transition into saving info digitally.

At the time, that seemed bold. It was a shot across the bow of cantankerous word processors. (I called mine “Old Ironsides.”)

However, to a young digital native, someone who’d never encountered a physical floppy disk, the digital image became the more real of the two. It evoked, not an object, but only an action: “save.”

Meanwhile, a new wave of designers, considered skeuomorphs clunky, their purpose lost at sea. Skeuomorphs were scraping the bottom of the barrel, they said. And they were not about to pipe down.

Gradually, the skeuomorph trend hit the doldrums. Mainstream designers, certain they’d keel over if they had to develop one more fake trashcan, file folder, or bookcase, began abandoning ship. They changed course, bound for the uncharted waters of start-ups.

By 2012, there was no stemming the tide. To put it pictorially . . .

A speeding jet ski symbolizes how rapidly Flat Design apps, or neuoumorphs, overtook the popularity of skeuomorphs. (Photo by Herbert 2512 and Pixabay)

Flat Design went full steam ahead . . .
Herbert2512/ Pixabay

A man paddling a barrel in the water symbolizes how skeoumorph apps, with their cultural memory-based images of older physical objects, seemed clunky compared to Flat Design apps. (Image by Pxhere)

. . . leaving skeuomorphs in its wake and over a barrel.

Ships Shapes that Pass in the Night?

Skeuomorphs were dead in the water, declared “Flat” fans. Old as the (Silicon Valley) hills. Some even claimed that before the Mac, skeuomorphism could not have existed, since there was no graphical interface.

Now wait just one oh I see moment: While not all skeuomorphs endure, skeuomorphism is no passing fad. It’s freighted with centuries of cultural memory.

Going Old-Skeu

The term skeuomorph was coined in 1889 when a scholar combined two Greek words—skeuos, meaning vessel or tool, and morphê, meaning shape or form. Archaeologists applied the term to ancient artifacts that carried “memories” of even older objects. Classic examples include:

ancient clay pottery from Zaire molded to resemble the straw that was used in earlier, woven containers
ancient Greek stone buildings that preserved the functions of their wooden precursors

In short, skeuomorphs were never just digital. That urge to imitate, to preserve, to artfully smuggle something older into the hull of something newer, has always been with us.

An antique coffeepot features skeuomorphic elements that reflect the cultural memory of woven vessels. (Image by Auckland Museum)

Vintage skeuomorph, this antique coffeepot looks woven and has “tree branch” handles.
Auckland Museum, CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Skeuomorphs Are Everywhere

Common household skeuomorphs include:

battery-operated or LED “candles”
window shutters that are purely decorative
shoes with ornamental buckles over functional Velcro fasteners
“wood-grain” laminate flooring

Lighting on a table includes skeoumorphic elements that preserve the cultural memory of older, physical objects, such as LED “candles” and a “wooden” plastic table. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Skeuomorphism is roadworthy, too. For example, it includes:

Logos of horses on cars—visual reminders of “horsepower,” itself a verbal skeuomorph
The first trains and cars, modeled after horse-drawn carriages
Electric cars with front grilles. That’s utterly skeuomorphic. No internal combustion engine? No need for cooling air-intake!

Skeuomorphs go beyond the visual:

Taste: meatless burgers and tofu turkey
Texture: furniture in one material that imitates another material
Scent: air freshener imitating an “ocean breeze” or “lavender field”

Vintage cars feature skeoumorphic elements that preserve the cultural memory of horse-drawn carriages, such as wood paneled chassis and wheels with spokes. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Cars with wood paneling and wheel spokes are . . .

Wagon wheels exemplify how skeuomorphic design embeds the cultural memory of older objects, such as wheel spokes, into newer objects, such as cars. (Image by British and Pixabay)

. . . skeuomorphic of old-fashioned wooden carriages.
Britlish/ Pixabay

Speaking of Skeuomorphs

There are, I think, echoes of skeuomorphism even in language. It’s in the way we knowingly or unknowingly imitate linguistic elements of the past.

That’s why, for the sake of experiment, I packed this post with vintage nautical terms, stem to stern. Did I go overboard? Aye, to prove a point: As old artifacts are “re-designed” for new users, the updated version retains vestiges of cultural memory. It’s as true of language as it is of technology.

So, even though you’re not an old-timey pirate, sea captain, boatswain, coxswain, rum smuggler, sea-shanty composer, or Viking explorer, every seaworthy idiom I used made sense to you. Like the digital native assigning new meaning to a graphical icon, you simply use it differently than its originators did.

That for me, is also the beauty of a skeuomorph. Be it digital or physical, visual or verbal, by intention or by-the-way, the best kind preserves cultural memory and takes on new meaning.

Don’t get me wrong. Flat Design has a vital role in language, too. If I need an ambulance, I’ll state my home address, not describe its architecture. I’m an idiom lover, not an idiot.

However, rather than choose one design style over another, I’ll navigate the best of each—the abstract and the pictorial, the streamlined and the layered. If neuomorphs make for plain sailing, skeuomorphs net cultural memory. Happily, there’s room onboard for both.

A smartphone screen whimsically depicting a 3-D figure navigating a body of water shows that apps like neoumorphs and skeuomorphs may one day only a cultural memory of old-school design. (Image by PixelLoverK3 and Pixabay)

What’s next in digital design? Wait and sea!
PixelLoverK3/ Pixabay

Did you spot all the nautical terms? Some are less obvious than others! Plumb their watery word depths, here and here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy Comments

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