The Women of the Blues: Hear a Playlist of Great Blues Singers, from Bessie Smith & Etta James, to Billie Holiday & Janis Joplin

Every­body gets the blues but not every­body gets the blues the same. Women get some seri­ous blues. Black women get some very seri­ous blues. Bessie Smith maybe had the most deep and soul­ful blues any­one ever had: “Crazy Blues,” “Down Heart­ed Blues,” “Care­less Love Blues,” “Emp­ty Bed Blues,” “Black Water Blues,” “Gulf Coast Blues,” and “St. Louis Blues,” which also hap­pens to be the title of her only known film appear­ance, as well as one of the ear­li­est talkies in cin­e­ma his­to­ry. (See a trans­port­ing acapel­la per­for­mance from the film above.)

Released in 1929, the “flawed, but absolute­ly essen­tial” film frames Smith’s char­ac­ter through the lyrics of com­pos­er W.C. Handy, wide­ly con­sid­ered the “father of the blues” for his pop­u­lar­iza­tion of the form. But Smith was more than an ancestor—she was roy­al­ty. The press in her day called her the “Empress of the Blues.”

Smith “comes off as a force of nature,” writes Mark Can­tor, “whose star­tling pow­er is rivaled in 1920s jazz and blues only by Louis Arm­strong.” Like Arm­strong, her influ­ence is incal­cu­la­ble. Sad­ly, the year she made her film appear­ance is also the year of her decline, when the Great Depres­sion hit her—and the record business—hard, and the very medi­um she helped launch, sound film, crip­pled the Vaude­ville venues that made her career.

Smith’s trag­ic end after a car acci­dent in 1937 was immor­tal­ized in Edward Albee’s 1959 The Death of Bessie Smith. Her voice lives on forever—in her record­ings and through singers from Bil­lie Hol­i­day to Janis Joplin—who paid for her grave­stone in 1970. (See Joplin’s phe­nom­e­nal “Ball and Chain,” from the Mon­terey Pop Fes­ti­val, fur­ther up.) Bessie Smith may have been Empress, but anoth­er Smith needs men­tion as the Fore­moth­er.

Despite its ori­gins in South­ern Black life and cul­ture, until 1920, notes NPR, “no black singer had been record­ed doing a blues song.” That changed when Mamie Smith record­ed “Crazy Blues.” Like Bessie, she also appeared in a 1929 talk­ing film, Jail­house Blues. (See her above mime to the title song, about that age-old prob­lem, the “no good man.”)

A num­ber of female singers haven’t made it into the canon, itself large­ly produced—as crit­ics like Lisa Hix and Aman­da Petru­sich have shown—by the selec­tion bias of an insu­lar com­mu­ni­ty of col­lec­tors. But you can hear many incred­i­ble, less-famous women of the blues appear in the Spo­ti­fy playlist fur­ther up, in the com­pa­ny of more famous names like Bessie and Mamie Smith, Hol­i­day, Joplin, Mem­phis Min­nie, Ma Rainey, Etta James, and Dinah Wash­ing­ton. Blues hounds will like­ly rec­og­nize most, if not all, of these names. More casu­al fans will be in for a treat. (Note one mis­take: the artist Bum­ble Bee Slim was a man.)

Every­one should know Koko Tay­lor, whose fierce growls and howls set Willie Dixon’s “Wang Dang Doo­dle” on fire fur­ther up in 1967 (with Lit­tle Wal­ter). And Etta James—whose “I’d Rather Go Blind,” above, gives me chills from start to finish—should have a con­stel­la­tion named after her, she’s so deserved­ly a star. We’re less like­ly to hear the name Vio­la McCoy these days (singing Bessie Smith’s “Back Water Blues,” below), whose style of blues sounds dat­ed but whose voice is as fresh as ever. Like­ly born Aman­da Brown, she sang under a hand­ful of alias­es in the 20s and 30s, none of them house­hold names.

Dozens more names appear on the playlist—Ida Cox, Alber­ta Hunter, (unfor­tu­nate­ly no Big Mama Thorn­ton or Sis­ter Roset­ta Tharpe)—all of them fab­u­lous in their own way. Giv­en this incred­i­bly rich tra­di­tion of female blues vocal­ists it should come as no sur­prise that women are cur­rent­ly keep­ing the blues alive, whether it’s the rock-soul revival­ism of the Alaba­ma Shakes’ Brit­tany Howard or the raw pow­er of Susan Tedeschi, whose “earthy, soul­ful belt­ing,” writes The Wash­ing­ton Post’s Richard Har­ring­ton, is rem­i­nis­cent of “Koko Tay­lor, Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin,” who can all trace their musi­cal lin­eage direct­ly back to Bessie and Mamie Smith.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Women of Jazz: Stream a Playlist of 91 Record­ings by Great Female Jazz Musi­cians

Stream 35 Hours of Clas­sic Blues, Folk, & Blue­grass Record­ings from Smith­son­ian Folk­ways: 837 Tracks Fea­tur­ing Lead Bel­ly, Woody Guthrie & More

The His­to­ry of the Blues in 50 Riffs: From Blind Lemon Jef­fer­son (1928) to Joe Bona­mas­sa (2009)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Calm Down & Study with Relaxing Piano, Jazz & Harp Covers of Music from Hayao Miyazaki Films

Call­ing all pedi­atric den­tists!

Cat Trum­pet, aka musi­cian and ani­me lover Cur­tis Bon­nett, may have inad­ver­tent­ly hit on a genius solu­tion for keep­ing young patients calm in the chair: relax­ing piano cov­ers of famil­iar tunes from Stu­dio Ghibli’s ani­mat­ed fea­tures.

The results fall some­where between pianist George Winston’s ear­ly 80s sea­son­al solos and Ryuichi Sakamoto’s sound­track for the film Mer­ry Christ­mas, Mr. Lawrence. Let us remem­ber that most of these tunes were fair­ly easy on the ears to begin with. Com­pos­er Joe Hisaishi, who has col­lab­o­rat­ed with direc­tor Hayao Miyaza­ki on every Stu­dio Ghi­b­li movie save Cas­tle of Cagliostro, isn’t exact­ly a punk rock­er.

Many lis­ten­ers report that the playlist helps them stay focused while study­ing or doing home­work. Oth­ers suc­cumb to the emo­tion­al rip­tides of child­hood nos­tal­gia.

Ten­der pre­na­tal and new­born ears might pre­fer Cat Trumpet’s even gen­tler harp cov­ers of sev­en Ghi­b­li tunes, above.

Meawhile, the Japan-based Cafe Music BGM Sta­tion pro­vides hours of jazzy, bossa-nova inflect­ed Stu­dio Ghi­b­li cov­ers to hos­pi­tals, hair salons, bou­tiques, and cafes. You can lis­ten to three-and-a-half-hours worth, above. This, too, gets high marks as a home­work helper.

 

Cat Trumpet’s Relax­ing Piano Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Com­plete Col­lec­tion

00:00:03 Spir­it­ed Away — Inochi no Namae

00:04:14 Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle — Mer­ry Go Round of Life

00:07:16 Kik­i’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice — Town With An Ocean View

00:09:31 The Secret World of Arri­et­ty — Arri­et­ty’s Song

00:13:29 Lapu­ta Cas­tle In The Sky — Car­ry­ing You

00:17:05 Por­co Rosso — Theme

00:19:55 Whis­per of the Heart — Song of the Baron

00:22:33 Por­co Rosso — Mar­co & Gina’s Theme

00:26:19 Only Yes­ter­day — Main Theme

00:29:07 From Up On Pop­py Hill — Rem­i­nis­cence

00:34:12 Spir­it­ed Away — Shi­roi Ryuu

00:37:06 Nau­si­caä of the Val­ley of the Wind — Tori no Hito

00:41:14 Nau­si­caä of the Val­ley of the Wind —  Kaze no Denset­su

00:43:25 My Neigh­bor Totoro — Kaze no Toori Michi

00:47:48 Cas­tle of Cagliostro — Fire Trea­sure

00:51:38 Princess Mononoke — Tabidachi nishi e

00:53:07 Tales From Earth­sea — Teru’s Theme

00:58:17 My Neigh­bor Totoro — Tonari no Totoro

01:02:35 Whis­per of the Heart — Theme

01:06:03 Ponyo — Ron­do of the Sun­flower House

01:10:34 Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle — The Promise of the World

 

Cat Trumpet’s Relax­ing Harp Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Col­lec­tion Playlist

00:03 Spir­it­ed Away — Inochi no Namae

04:01 Spir­it­ed Away — Waltz of Chi­hi­ro

06:43 Howls Mov­ing Cas­tle — Mer­ry Go Round of Life

09:45 Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle — The Promise of the World

13:15 Lapu­ta Cas­tle In The Sky — Main Theme

16:55 Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea — Main Theme

20:15 Tonari no Totoro — Kaze no Toori Michi

 

Cafe Music BGM’s Relax­ing Jazz & Bossa Nova Stu­dio Ghi­b­li Cov­er Playlist (song titles in Japan­ese)

0:00 海の見える街  〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

4:10 もののけ姫  〜もののけ姫/Princess Mononoke

7:28 君をのせて 〜天空の城ラピュタ/Laputa, the Cas­tle of the Sky

11:09 風の通り道 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

16:26 ひこうき雲 〜風立ちぬ/THE WIND RISES〜

19:48 空とぶ宅急便 〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

25:05 人生のメリーゴーランド

〜ハウルの動く城/Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle

28:07 いつも何度でも 〜千と千尋の神隠し/Spirited Away

32:08 となりのトトロ 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

36:40 さんぽ 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

38:40 崖の上のポニョ 〜崖の上のポニョ/Ponyo

42:08 ねこバス 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

46:06 旅路 〜風立ちぬ/THE WIND RISES

49:16 アシタカとサン 〜もののけ姫/Princess Mononoke

53:38 おかあさん 〜となりのトトロ/My Nei­bour Totoro

58:19 旅立ち 〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

1:02:25 風の谷のナウシカ 〜風の谷のナウシカ/Nausicaa of the Val­ley of the Wind

1:06:59 やさしさに包まれたなら 〜魔女の宅急便/Kiki’s Deliv­ery Ser­vice

 

Tune in to Cat Trumpet’s Spo­ti­fy chan­nel for his relax­ing takes on Dis­ney and ani­me, as well as Stu­dio Ghi­b­li. They are avail­able for pur­chase on iTunes and Google Play, or enjoy some free down­loads by patron­iz­ing his Patre­on. He takes requests, too.

Tune in to Cafe Music’s BGM Spo­ti­fy chan­nel for Stu­dio Ghi­b­li jazz, in addi­tion to some relax­ing Hawai­ian gui­tar jazz and a selec­tion of nature-based mel­low tunes. They are avail­able for pur­chase on iTunes.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Insane­ly Cute Cat Com­mer­cials from Stu­dio Ghi­b­li, Hayao Miyazaki’s Leg­endary Ani­ma­tion Shop

Hayao Miyaza­ki Picks His 50 Favorite Children’s Books

How the Films of Hayao Miyaza­ki Work Their Ani­mat­ed Mag­ic, Explained in 4 Video Essays

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Bob Dylan Plays Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly” Live in Concert (and How Petty Witnessed Dylan’s Musical Epiphany in 1987)

While per­form­ing in Den­ver this past week­end, Bob Dylan paid trib­ute to Tom Pet­ty, play­ing a cov­er of his 1991 track, “Learn­ing to Fly.” Most will remem­ber their time togeth­er in the Trav­el­ing Wilburys. But real­ly their rela­tion­ship was cement­ed before that, when the musi­cians embarked on the long True Con­fes­sions Tour in 1986. That’s when Dylan lost his mojo and near­ly end­ed his career, then sud­den­ly found new inspi­ra­tion again, all while Tom Pet­ty and the Heart­break­ers shared the same stage.

In his 2004 mem­oir, Chron­i­cles: Vol­ume 1, Dylan laid out the sce­nario:

I’d been on an eigh­teen month tour with Tom Pet­ty and The Heart­break­ers. It would be my last. I had no con­nec­tion to any kind of inspi­ra­tion. What­ev­er had been there to begin with had all van­ished and shrunk. Tom was at the top of his game and I was at the bot­tom of mine. I could­n’t over­come the odds. Every­thing was smashed. My own songs had become strangers to me. It was­n’t my moment of his­to­ry any­more. There was a hol­low­ing singing in my heart and I could­n’t wait to retire and fold the tent. One more big pay­day with Pet­ty and that would be it for me. I was what they called over the hill.… The mir­ror had swung around and I could see the future — an old actor fum­bling in garbage cans out­side the the­atre of past tri­umphs.

Every­thing final­ly came to a head one night when Dylan per­formed with Pet­ty and the Heart­break­ers in Locarno, Switzer­land. He writes again in Chron­i­cles, “For an instant, I fell into a black hole… I opened my mouth to sing and the air tight­ened up–vocal pres­ence was extin­guished and noth­ing came out.” Pan­icked, Dylan used every trick to get start­ed. Noth­ing worked, until, he then cast his own “spell to dri­ve out the dev­il.” That’s when “Every­thing came back, and it came back in mul­ti­di­men­sion.” A com­plete “meta­mor­pho­sis had tak­en place.” He adds: “The shows with Pet­ty fin­ished up in Decem­ber, and I saw that instead of being strand­ed some­where at the end of the sto­ry, I was actu­al­ly in the pre­lude to the begin­ning of anoth­er one.” With­out out it, we would­n’t have Oh Mer­cyTime Out of Mind, Love and Theft, or Mod­ern Times.

You can watch footage of the epiphany con­cert on Youtube. It took place on Octo­ber 2, 1987–thirty years and three days before Pet­ty’s death on Octo­ber 5, 2017.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A 17-Hour, Chrono­log­i­cal Jour­ney Through Tom Petty’s Music: Stream the Songs That Became the Sound­tracks of Our Lives

Watch Tom Pet­ty (RIP) and the Heart­break­ers Per­form Their Last Song Togeth­er, “Amer­i­can Girl”: Record­ed on 9/25/17

Bob Dylan & The Grate­ful Dead Rehearse Togeth­er in Sum­mer 1987: Hear 74 Tracks

How Saxophones Are Made: Two Short Films (Including One by Sesame Street) Take You Inside Saxophone Factories

Many of us, hand­ed a sax­o­phone, would­n’t have the first clue about how to play it prop­er­ly, and almost none of us would have any idea at all about how to make one. Then again, those of us of a cer­tain gen­er­a­tion might feel an old mem­o­ry com­ing back to the sur­face: had­n’t we once wit­nessed the inner work­ings of a sax­o­phone fac­to­ry? We did if we ever hap­pened to catch the clas­sic 1980 Sesame Street short above which shows the sax­o­phone-mak­ing process in its entire­ty, begin­ning with flat sheets of met­al and end­ing up, two min­utes lat­er, with jazz­i­ly playable instru­ments — just like the one we’ve heard impro­vis­ing to the action onscreen the whole time.

Gold­en-age Sesame Street always did well with reveal­ing how things were made in a char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly mes­mer­iz­ing way, as also seen around the same time in an even more wide­ly remem­bered two min­utes in a cray­on fac­to­ry. Both it and the sax­o­phone work­shop, though they use plen­ty of tech­nol­o­gy, look like quaint­ly, even charm­ing­ly labor-inten­sive oper­a­tions today: in almost every step shown, we see not just a machine or tool but the human (or at least a part of the human) oper­at­ing it.

And it turns out, on the evi­dence of the 2012 video from the Musi­cal Instru­ment Muse­um just below, that the art of sax­o­phone-mak­ing has­n’t changed as much in the sub­se­quent decades as we might imag­ine.

With its more than ten min­utes of run­time, the MIM’s video shows in a bit more detail what actu­al­ly hap­pens inside a mod­ern sax­o­phone fac­to­ry, name­ly that of wood­wind and brass instru­ment mak­er Hen­ri Selmer Paris, whose sax­o­phones have been played by Char­lie Park­er, John Coltrane, Paul Desmond, Son­ny Rollins and Cole­man HawkinsAnd while some of the equip­ment clear­ly grew more advanced in the 32 years since the Sesame Street short, the over­all process remains clear­ly rec­og­niz­able, as does the con­cen­tra­tion evi­dent in the actions and on the faces of all the skilled work­ers involved, albeit on a much larg­er scale. The day when we can 3D-print our own sax­o­phones at home — the cul­mi­na­tion of the indus­tri­al evo­lu­tion­ary process glimpsed in two dif­fer­ent stages in these videos — will come, but it cer­tain­ly has­n’t come yet.

via Laugh­ingsquid

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Nina Simone Sing the Black Pride Anthem, “To Be Young, Gift­ed and Black,” on Sesame Street (1972)

Watch Her­bie Han­cock Rock Out on an Ear­ly Syn­the­siz­er on Sesame Street (1983)

Watch Jazzy Spies: 1969 Psy­che­del­ic Sesame Street Ani­ma­tion, Fea­tur­ing Grace Slick, Teach­es Kids to Count

Learn How Crayons Are Made, Cour­tesy of 1980s Videos by Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers

Glass: The Oscar-Win­ning “Per­fect Short Doc­u­men­tary” on Dutch Glass­mak­ing (1958)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Jack Kerouac’s Hand-Drawn Cover for On the Road (1952)

This falls under the cat­e­go­ry, “If you want it done right, you have to do it your­self.”

In 1950, when Jack Ker­ouac released his first nov­el, The Town and the City, he was less than impressed by the book cov­er pro­duced by his pub­lish­er, Har­court Brace. (Click here to see why.) So, in 1952, when he began shop­ping his sec­ond nov­el, the great beat clas­sic On the Road, Ker­ouac went ahead and designed his own cov­er. He sent it to a poten­tial pub­lish­er A.A. Wyn, with a lit­tle note typed at the very top:

Dear Mr. Wyn:

I sub­mit this as my idea of an appeal­ing com­mer­cial cov­er expres­sive of the book. The cov­er for “The Town and the City” was as dull as the title and the pho­to back­flap. Wilbur Pippin’s pho­to of me is the per­fect On the Road one … it will look like the face of the fig­ure below.

J.K.

Wyn turned down the nov­el, and it would­n’t get pub­lished until 1957. It would, how­ev­er, become a best­seller and be pub­lished with many dif­fer­ent cov­ers through the years. They’re all on dis­play here.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Note: This fine draw­ing appeared on our site back in 2012.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Jack Kerouac’s On The Road Turned Into Google Dri­ving Direc­tions & Pub­lished as a Free eBook

Four Inter­ac­tive Maps Immor­tal­ize the Road Trips That Inspired Jack Kerouac’s On the Road

The Music from Jack Kerouac’s Clas­sic Beat Nov­el On the Road: Stream Tracks by Miles Davis, Dex­ter Gor­don & Oth­er Jazz Leg­ends

New Digital Archive Puts Online 4,000 Historic Images of Rome: The Eternal City from the 16th to 20th Centuries

The poet Tibul­lus first described Rome as “The Eter­nal City” in the first cen­tu­ry BC, and that evoca­tive nick­name has stuck over the thou­sands of years since. Or rather, he would have called it “Urbs Aeter­na,” which for Ital­ian-speak­ers would have been “La Cit­tà Eter­na,” but regard­less of which lan­guage you pre­fer it in, it throws down a daunt­ing chal­lenge before any his­to­ri­an of Rome. Each schol­ar has had to find their own way of approach­ing such a his­tor­i­cal­ly for­mi­da­ble place, and few have built up such a robust visu­al record as Rodol­fo Lan­ciani, 4000 items from whose col­lec­tion became avail­able to view online this year, thanks to Stan­ford Libraries.

As an “archae­ol­o­gist, pro­fes­sor of topog­ra­phy, and sec­re­tary of the Archae­o­log­i­cal Com­mis­sion,” says the col­lec­tion’s about page, Lan­ciani, “was a pio­neer in the sys­tem­at­ic, mod­ern study of the city of Rome.”

Hav­ing lived from 1845 to 1929 with a long and fruit­ful career to match, he “col­lect­ed a vast archive of his own notes and man­u­scripts, as well as works by oth­ers includ­ing rare prints and orig­i­nal draw­ings by artists and archi­tects stretch­ing back to the six­teenth cen­tu­ry.” After he died, his whole library found a buy­er in the Isti­tu­to Nazionale di Arche­olo­gia e Sto­ria dell’Arte (INASA), which made it avail­able to researchers at the 15th-cen­tu­ry Palaz­zo Venezia in Rome.

Enter a team of pro­fes­sors, archae­ol­o­gists, and tech­nol­o­gists from Stan­ford and else­where, who with a grant from the Samuel H. Kress Foun­da­tion, and in part­ner­ship with Italy’s Min­istry of Cul­tur­al Her­itage and Activ­i­ties and Tourism and the Nation­al Insti­tute, began dig­i­tiz­ing it all. Their efforts have so far yield­ed an exhi­bi­tion of about 4,000 of Lan­cian­i’s draw­ings, prints, pho­tographs and sketch­es of Rome from the 16th cen­tu­ry to the 20th. Not only can you exam­ine them in high-res­o­lu­tion in your brows­er as well as down­load them, you can also see the loca­tions of what they depict pin­point­ed on the map of Rome. That fea­ture might come in espe­cial­ly handy when next you pay a vis­it to The Eter­nal City, though for many of the fea­tures depict­ed in Lan­cian­i’s col­lec­tion, you hard­ly need direc­tions. Enter the dig­i­tal col­lec­tion here.

via Stan­ford News

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of Rome in 179 Pod­casts

Ancient Rome’s Sys­tem of Roads Visu­al­ized in the Style of Mod­ern Sub­way Maps

How Did the Romans Make Con­crete That Lasts Longer Than Mod­ern Con­crete? The Mys­tery Final­ly Solved

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

An Online Trove of Historic Sewing Patterns & Costumes

As Hal­loween draws nigh, our thoughts turn to cos­tumes.

Not those rub­bery, poor­ly con­struct­ed, sexy and/or gory off-the-rack ready­mades, but the sort of lav­ish, his­tor­i­cal­ly accu­rate, home-sewn affairs that would have earned praise and extra can­dy, if only our moth­er had been inclined to spend the bulk of Octo­ber chained to a sewing machine.

Not that one needs the excuse of a hol­i­day to suit up in a fluffy 50’s crino­line, a Tudor-style kir­tle gown, or a 16th-cen­tu­ry Flem­ish out­fit with all the trim­mings.…

Accoun­tant Artemisia Moltaboc­ca, cre­ator of the his­tor­i­cal and cos­play cos­tum­ing blog Cos­tum­ing Diary, has primed our pump with a list of free his­tor­i­cal medieval, Eliz­a­bethan and Vic­to­ri­an pat­terns, includ­ing ones for the gar­ments men­tioned above.

Click through the many links on her site and you may find your­self tum­bling down a rab­bit hole of some oth­er cos-play­er’s gen­eros­i­ty.

That link to the cus­tom corset pat­tern gen­er­a­tor may set you on the road to cre­at­ing a per­fect­ly fit­ted Viking apron or a good-for-begin­ners tunic. (Bring out yer dead!)

Fan­cy even more choic­es? Moltabocca’s Free His­tor­i­cal Cos­tume Pat­terns Pin­ter­est board is a ver­i­ta­ble trove of dress-up fun.

The Los Ange­les Coun­ty Muse­um of Art’s Cos­tume and Tex­tiles Project has detailed down­load­able PDFs to walk you through con­struc­tion of such anachro­nis­tic fin­ery as a 1940’s Zoot Suit, a 19th-cen­tu­ry boy’s frock (above), and a man’s vest with remov­able chest pads (hub­ba hub­ba).

An 1812 Ohio Mili­tia Officer’s Coat from the Ohio His­tor­i­cal Soci­ety.

A pair of Nan­keen Trousers cour­tesy of the Roy­al Ontario Muse­um.

A bul­let bra (hub­ba bub­ba redux!)—pair it with a 1940s Vogue hat and hand­bag and you’re ready to go!

A Regency Drawn Bon­net and an Improved Seam­less Whale­bone Under­skirt from E. & J. Holmes & Co, Boston, 1857.

If you’re feel­ing less than con­fi­dent about your sewing abil­i­ties, you might make like an upper-class Roman in an Ion­ian chi­ton.

Or just curl a syn­thet­ic wig!

Press some­one else’s seams with a straight­en­ing iron (above), then kick back and enjoy the vin­tage ads, pho­tos of antique gar­ments, and the peri­od infor­ma­tion that often accom­pa­nies these how-tos. And check out the 1913 patent appli­ca­tion for Marie Perillat’s Bust Reduc­er, a mir­a­cle inven­tion designed to “pre­vent flesh bulging while pro­vid­ing self adjustable, com­fort­able, hygien­ic sup­port.”

Begin with some of Cos­tum­ing Diary’s his­tor­i­cal sewing pat­terns before delv­ing into its mas­sive pat­tern col­lec­tion board on Pin­ter­est.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Browse a Col­lec­tion of Over 83,500 Vin­tage Sewing Pat­terns

Kandin­sky, Klee & Oth­er Bauhaus Artists Designed Inge­nious Cos­tumes Like You’ve Nev­er Seen Before

1930s Fash­ion Design­ers Pre­dict How Peo­ple Would Dress in the Year 2000

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her cur­rent sewing project is 19 head­pieces for Theater of the Apes Sub-Adult Division’s upcom­ing pro­duc­tion of Ani­mal Farm at the Tank in New York City. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

“The Philosopher’s Web,” an Interactive Data Visualization Shows the Web of Influences Connecting Ancient & Modern Philosophers

How do we begin to read phi­los­o­phy? Can we slide a book from the shelf, thumb through it casu­al­ly, pick­ing out the bits of wis­dom that make sense?

Should we find a well-known “impor­tant” work, sit in a qui­et study, read the pref­ace, translator’s intro­duc­tion, etc…

How soon we dis­cov­er we know less about the book than when we start­ed.

We go wan­der­ing, lose our­selves in sec­ondary sources, gloss­es, foot­notes, com­ments sec­tions, Wikipedia arti­cles…. The impor­tant book remains unread….

In-between these two extremes are a vari­ety of approach­es that work well for many an auto­di­dact. When data sci­en­tist Grant Louis Oliveira decid­ed he want­ed to under­take a self-guid­ed course of study to “more rig­or­ous­ly explore my ideas,” he began with the hon­est admis­sion, “I find the world of phi­los­o­phy a bit impen­e­tra­ble.”

Where some of us might make an out­line, a spread­sheet, or a hum­ble read­ing list, Oliveira cre­at­ed a com­plex “social net­work visu­al­iza­tion” of “a his­to­ry of phi­los­o­phy” to act as his guide.

“What I imag­ined,” he writes, “is some­thing like a tree arranged down a time­line. More influ­en­tial philoso­phers would be big­ger nodes, and the size of the lines between the nodes would per­haps be vari­able by strength of influ­ence.”

The project, called “Philosopher’s Web,” shows us an impres­sive­ly dense col­lec­tion of names—hundreds of names—held togeth­er by what look like the bendy fil­a­ments in a fiber-optic cable. Each blue dot rep­re­sents a philoso­pher, the thin gray lines between the dots rep­re­sent lines of influ­ence.

The data for the project comes not from aca­d­e­m­ic schol­ar­ship but from Wikipedia, whose “seman­tic com­pan­ion” dbpe­dia Oliveira used to con­struct the web of “influ­enced” and “influ­enced by” con­nec­tions. (Read about his method here.)

As you zoom in, click around, and access dif­fer­ent views, the dots and lines wave like ten­drils of a sea anemone. Oliveira describes the process thus: “the more influ­en­tial the philoso­pher, the thick­er and more numer­ous the lines ema­nat­ing from him. You can click on any one of these nodes to see which philoso­pher it rep­re­sents. If you click and hold, it will dis­play the net­work of philoso­phers he has been influ­enced by, and has influ­enced. Each line has an arrow at the end to denote the direc­tion of the rela­tion­ship.” (Despite his use of the mas­cu­line pro­noun, Oliveira’s web of con­nec­tions is not exclu­sive­ly male.)

Both the pro­jec­t’s site and Dai­ly Nous have more nuanced, detailed instruc­tions. While at first glance the Philosopher’s Web can itself seem a bit impen­e­tra­ble, it reveals more of its inner work­ings the more you use it. Press and hold on one of the blue dots, and it expands into a small­er clus­ter of its own, show­ing a cloud of con­nec­tions hov­er­ing around the cen­tral fig­ure. Tog­gle the “focus” and you get sec­ondary and ter­tiary rela­tion­ships.

 

Click on the lines of influ­ence and see, instead of an expla­na­tion, a some­what mys­ti­fy­ing “influ­ence score.” Click on the “Fil­ter” tab under “Set­tings” and find a range of fil­ters that allow you to nar­row or widen the scope of the map to cer­tain his­tor­i­cal peri­ods.

In addi­tion to indi­vid­ual philoso­phers, the web also con­tains the names of sev­er­al writ­ers, jour­nal­ists, colum­nists, and pop­u­lar pub­lic intel­lec­tu­als, like Paul Krug­man and Ayaan Hir­si Ali. It also dis­plays sev­er­al move­ments or schools of thought as blue dots. Want to know the big names in “Insur­rec­tionary Anar­chism”? Click on the node and chose your lev­els of speci­fici­ty.

The weak­ness­es of the approach are per­haps imme­di­ate­ly appar­ent. What good is a clus­ter of unfa­mil­iar names to the begin­ner, espe­cial­ly since each one appears devoid of his­tor­i­cal and intel­lec­tu­al con­text? Oliveira dis­clos­es some oth­er prob­lems, includ­ing an issue with the soft­ware ren­der­ing accents and for­eign char­ac­ters (as you can see in Slavoj Žižek’s entry above.)

But the more one uses the Philosopher’s Web, the more its util­i­ty becomes appar­ent. “Hope­ful­ly based on con­text,” writes Oliveira, “you should be able to fig­ure out who these peo­ple are with a lit­tle bit of google.” Visu­al­iz­ing the con­nec­tions between them gives one an instant sense of the com­mu­ni­ties and con­ti­nu­ities to which they belong, and among each clus­ter will always be at least one or two famil­iar names, at least in pass­ing, to act as an anchor.

All in all, the Philosopher’s Web should prove to be a use­ful appli­ca­tion for a cer­tain kind of learn­er, and it rep­re­sents a step-up from the rit­u­al of click­ing through Wikipedia links to try and put the puz­zle pieces togeth­er one at a time. The Philoso­pher’s Web joins a num­ber of oth­er sim­i­lar visu­al­iza­tions (see the links below) that aim at cre­at­ing sim­i­lar maps of the dis­ci­pline.

Should you find the approach a lit­tle ster­ile and schemat­ic, well… there’s always that book you put down a few hours ago.…

via Dai­ly Nous

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Entire Dis­ci­pline of Phi­los­o­phy Visu­al­ized with Map­ping Soft­ware: See All of the Com­plex Net­works

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy, from 600 B.C.E. to 1935, Visu­al­ized in Two Mas­sive, 44-Foot High Dia­grams

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy Visu­al­ized

Intro­duc­tion to Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Online Course

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

The Films of Christopher Nolan Explored in a Sweeping 4‑Hour Video Essay: Memento, The Dark Knight, Interstellar & More

Cameron Beyl does not play by the rules when it comes to video essays. Instead of short, under-10 minute explo­rations we’ve come to expect from the ever-increas­ing coterie of YouTube essay­ists, Beyl, in his Direc­tors Series on Vimeo, devotes hours to explor­ing the fil­mo­gra­phies of some of cinema’s great auteurs. We’ve already intro­duced you in pre­vi­ous posts to his extend­ed hagiogra­phies of Stan­ley Kubrick, the Coen Broth­ers, David Finch­er, and Paul Thomas Ander­son.

Now comes his lat­est work, a mul­ti-part explo­ration of Christo­pher Nolan’s oeu­vre, cov­er­ing his hard­scrab­ble years all the way through his Hol­ly­wood block­busters and end­ing with Inter­stel­lar. (This writer, hav­ing thought high­er of Dunkirk than his pre­vi­ous works, will just have to wait a few years until the next chap­ter.)

In the video above, Beyl starts off with some pre­his­to­ry about Christo­pher and his broth­er Jonathan, his ear­ly years mak­ing Super 8 movies, his time spent at Uni­ver­si­ty Col­lege Lon­don, and the very rare first films, “Taran­tel­la” and “Lar­ce­ny,” the sin­gle-gag short “Doo­dle­bug,” and how that crew–including his lead actor Jere­my Theobald and his pro­duc­er-soon-to-be-wife Emma Thomas–stayed with him through his $6000 debut fea­ture Fol­low­ing and its the­mat­ic and styl­is­tic cousin Memen­to, made for $4.5 mil­lion.

Part 2 shows Nolan nav­i­gat­ing the stu­dio sys­tem. Giv­en a chance by exec­u­tive pro­duc­ers George Clooney and Steven Soder­bergh to remake the Nor­we­gian thriller Insom­nia, he indulged in his love of Michael Mann by work­ing with Al Paci­no, who plays a char­ac­ter not unlike his role in 1995’s Heat. Then Nolan takes on a mori­bund com­ic book fran­chise and reboots it into Bat­man Begins, a move that stu­dio execs have since done over and over to rethink var­i­ous prop­er­ties with dif­fer­ent direc­tors. He ends with a less enthu­si­as­tic exam­i­na­tion of 2006’s The Pres­tige.

Part 3 takes on both The Dark Knight and Incep­tion, two huge block­busters and one that took Nolan into the pan­theon of crit­i­cal and pop­u­lar acclaim. If unde­cid­ed on Nolan, Beyl’s obse­quious tone might put one off: “Sim­ply put, the late 2000s saw Nolan oper­at­ing at the height of his pow­ers, locked in sync with the cul­tur­al zeit­geist to such a degree that his efforts were active­ly steer­ing it.” (Please have that debate in the com­ments.) How­ev­er, Beyl makes some nice com­par­isons between The Dark Knight and Heat here.

Part Four shows Nolan con­clud­ing his Bat­man tril­o­gy, fail­ing to top The Dark Knight, but then going all Kubrick with Inter­stel­lar. He’s a direc­tor who has glad­ly played with all the toys mul­ti-mil­lion dol­lar Hol­ly­wood pro­duc­tions have at their dis­pos­al, and he’s nev­er been afraid of being epic. Beyl leaves off, not­ing that after expand­ing into the uni­verse with Inter­stel­lar, Nolan has nowhere to turn but inward. So far that has result­ed in the his­tor­i­cal Dunkirk. But whether Nolan can return to more mod­est work has yet to be seen.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Dis­cov­er the Life & Work of Stan­ley Kubrick in a Sweep­ing Three-Hour Video Essay

What Makes a Coen Broth­ers Movie a Coen Broth­ers Movie? Find Out in a 4‑Hour Video Essay of Bar­ton Fink, The Big Lebows­ki, Far­go, No Coun­try for Old Men & More

The Career of Paul Thomas Ander­son: A 5‑Part Video Essay on the Auteur of Boo­gie Nights, Punch-Drunk Love, The Mas­ter, and More

How Did David Finch­er Become the Kubrick of Our Time? A New, 3.5 Hour Series of Video Essays Explains

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

Maria Anna Mozart Was a Musical Prodigy Like Her Brother Wolfgang, So Why Did She Get Erased from History?

When peo­ple ask why we have specif­i­cal­ly black his­to­ries, or queer his­to­ries, or women’s his­to­ries, it can be hard for many who do his­tor­i­cal research to take the ques­tion seri­ous­ly. But in fair­ness, such ques­tions point to the very rea­son that alter­na­tive or “revi­sion­ist” his­to­ries exist. We can­not know what we are not told about history—at least not with­out doing the kind of dig­ging pro­fes­sion­al schol­ars can do. Vir­ginia Woolf’s trag­ic, but fic­tion­al, his­to­ry of Shakespeare’s sis­ter notwith­stand­ing, the claims made by cul­tur­al crit­ics about mar­gin­al­iza­tion and oppres­sion aren’t based on spec­u­la­tion, but on case after case of indi­vid­u­als who were ignored by, or shut out of, the wider cul­ture, and sub­se­quent­ly dis­ap­peared from his­tor­i­cal mem­o­ry.

One such extra­or­di­nary case involves the real sis­ter of anoth­er tow­er­ing Euro­pean fig­ure whose life we know much more about than Shakespeare’s. Before Wolf­gang Amadeus Mozart began writ­ing his first com­po­si­tions, his old­er sis­ter Maria Anna Mozart, nick­named Nan­nerl, had already proven her­self a prodi­gy.

The two toured Europe togeth­er as children—she was with her broth­er dur­ing his 18-month stay in Lon­don. “There are con­tem­po­ra­ne­ous reviews prais­ing Nan­nerl,” writes Sylvia Milo, “and she was even billed first.” A 1763 review, for exam­ple, sounds indis­tin­guish­able from those writ­ten about young Wolf­gang.

Imag­ine an eleven-year-old girl, per­form­ing the most dif­fi­cult sonatas and con­cer­tos of the great­est com­posers, on the harp­si­chord or fortepi­ano, with pre­ci­sion, with incred­i­ble light­ness, with impec­ca­ble taste. It was a source of won­der to many.

18th cen­tu­ry clas­si­cal audi­ences first came to know Wolf­gang as part of a broth­er-sis­ter duo of “wun­derkinder.” But the sis­ter half has been air­brushed out of the pic­ture. She does not appear in the defin­i­tive Hol­ly­wood treat­ment, Milos Forman’s Amadeus. And, more­over, she only recent­ly began to emerge in the aca­d­e­m­ic and clas­si­cal worlds. “I grew up study­ing to be a vio­lin­ist,” writes Sylvia Milo. “Nei­ther my music his­to­ry nor my reper­toire includ­ed any female com­posers.”

With my braid­ed hair I was called “lit­tle Mozart” by my vio­lin teacher, but he meant Wolfi. I nev­er heard that Amadeus had a sis­ter. I nev­er heard of Nan­nerl Mozart until I saw that fam­i­ly por­trait.

In the por­trait (top), Nan­nerl and Wolf­gang sit togeth­er at the harp­si­chord while their father Leopold stands near­by. Nan­nerl, in the fore­ground, has an enor­mous pom­padour crown­ing her small oval face. Of the hair­do, she wrote to her broth­er, in their typ­i­cal­ly play­ful rap­port, “I am writ­ing to you with an erec­tion on my head and I am very much afraid of burn­ing my hair.”

After dis­cov­er­ing Nan­erl, Milo poured through the his­tor­i­cal archives, read­ing con­tem­po­rary accounts and per­son­al let­ters. The research gave birth to a one-woman play, The Oth­er Mozart, which has toured for the last four years to crit­i­cal acclaim. (See a trail­er video above). In her Guardian essay, Milo describes Nannerl’s fate: “left behind in Salzberg” when she turned 18. “A lit­tle girl could per­form and tour, but a woman doing so risked her rep­u­ta­tion…. Her father only took Wolf­gang on their next jour­neys around the courts of Europe. Nan­nerl nev­er toured again.” We do know that she wrote music. Wolf­gang praised one com­po­si­tion as “beau­ti­ful” in a let­ter to her. But none of her music has sur­vived. “Maybe we will find it one day,” Milo writes. Indeed, an Aus­tralian researcher claims to have found Nannerl’s “musi­cal hand­writ­ing” in the com­po­si­tions Wolf­gang used for prac­tice.

Oth­er schol­ars have spec­u­lat­ed that Mozart’s sis­ter, five years his senior, cer­tain­ly would have had some influ­ence on his play­ing. “No musi­cians devel­op their art in a vac­u­um,” says musi­cal soci­ol­o­gist Ste­van Jack­son. “Musi­cians learn by watch­ing oth­er musi­cians, by being an appren­tice, for­mal­ly or infor­mal­ly.” The ques­tion may remain an aca­d­e­m­ic one, but the life of Nan­nerl has recent­ly become a mat­ter of pop­u­lar inter­est as well, not only in Milo’s play but in sev­er­al nov­els, many titled Mozart’s Sis­ter, and a 2011 film, also titled Mozart’s Sis­ter, writ­ten and direct­ed by René Féret and star­ring his daugh­ter in the tit­u­lar role. The trail­er above promis­es a rich­ly emo­tion­al peri­od dra­ma, which—as all enter­tain­ments must do—takes some lib­er­ties with the facts as we know, or don’t know, them, but which also, like Milo’s play, gives flesh to a sig­nif­i­cant, and sig­nif­i­cant­ly frus­trat­ed, his­tor­i­cal fig­ure who had, for a cou­ple hun­dred years, at least, been ren­dered invis­i­ble.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

1200 Years of Women Com­posers: A Free 78-Hour Music Playlist That Takes You From Medieval Times to Now

Hear the Pieces Mozart Com­posed When He Was Only Five Years Old

Read an 18th-Cen­tu­ry Eye­wit­ness Account of 8‑Year-Old Mozart’s Extra­or­di­nary Musi­cal Skills

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

2,000+ Architecture & Art Books You Can Read Free at the Internet Archive

Some­body once called writ­ing about music like danc­ing about archi­tec­ture, and the descrip­tion stuck. But what’s writ­ing about archi­tec­ture like? Even if you already know — espe­cial­ly if you already know — know that the Inter­net Archive makes it easy to binge on some of the finest archi­tec­ture writ­ing around and find out, and com­plete­ly for free at that. The site, as Arch­dai­ly’s Becky Quin­tal reports, has imple­ment­ed a “lend­ing fea­ture that allows users to elec­tron­i­cal­ly ‘bor­row’ books for 14 days. With over 2,000 bor­row­able books on archi­tec­ture, patrons from across the globe can read works by Reyn­er Ban­ham, Wal­ter Gropius, Ada Louise Huxtable and Jonathan Glancey. There are also help­ful guides, dic­tio­nar­ies and his­to­ry books.”

Quin­tal rec­om­mends a vari­ety of titles from Glancey’s The Sto­ry of Archi­tec­ture and Ban­ham’s The­o­ry and Design in the First Machine Age to Gropius’ The New Archi­tec­ture and the Bauhaus and Tom Wolfe’s famous jere­mi­ad From Bauhaus to Our Our House.

Oth­er bor­row­able books in the col­lec­tion can take you even far­ther around our built world: Boston Archi­tec­ture, French Archi­tec­ture, Japan­ese Archi­tec­ture, Moor­ish Archi­tec­ture in Andalu­sia, The Art and Archi­tec­ture of Chi­na, The Art and Archi­tec­ture of Medieval Rus­sia. As you can see, and as in a “real” library or book­store, writ­ing about archi­tec­ture at some point tran­si­tions into writ­ing about art, quite a few vol­umes of which — on art his­to­ry, art tech­nique, and even muse­um work — the Inter­net Archive also lets you check out.

But before you get your two weeks with any of these books from the Inter­net Archive’s vir­tu­al library, you’ll need your vir­tu­al library card. To get it, vis­it Archive.org’s account cre­ation page and come up with a screen name and pass­word. As soon as you’ve agreed to the site’s terms and con­di­tions, you’ve got a card. If you’d like to read these books on devices oth­er than your com­put­er, you’ll need to down­load Adobe’s free Dig­i­tal Edi­tions soft­ware. Out dig­i­tal cen­tu­ry has made bing­ing on all kinds of read­ing mate­r­i­al incom­pa­ra­bly eas­i­er than before, but just like brick-and-mor­tar libraries, the Inter­net Archive has only so many “copies” to lend out, so be warned that if you want an espe­cial­ly pop­u­lar book, you may have to get on a wait­list first. Me, I’m hop­ing Exper­i­men­tal Archi­tec­ture in Los Ange­les will come in any day now, but the art or archi­tec­ture book you most want to read may just be wait­ing for you to check it out. Scan the col­lec­tion here.

via Arch­dai­ly

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Down­load 200+ Free Mod­ern Art Books from the Guggen­heim Muse­um

Free: You Can Now Read Clas­sic Books by MIT Press on Archive.org

Watch 50+ Doc­u­men­taries on Famous Archi­tects & Build­ings: Bauhaus, Le Cor­busier, Hadid & Many More

Down­load 464 Free Art Books from The Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.


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