Saturday, March 15, 2025

Religion, Art, and Hilma af Klint

Hilma af Klint, c. 1890

When I wrote about Hilma af Klint (1862-1944) back in 2019, I noted that while today she is a famous artist, she did not see herself that way. She was a spirtualist who saw her paintings as religious acts. A Swedish foundation tried to set up a museum of her work during her lifetime, but she refused to cooperate. Her inner voices, she said, urged her to avoid any such entanglement. As a result, her paintings ended up under the control of her family. 

Beginning in 1984, Klint's descendants began allowing museums to borrow Klint's works and exhibit them as art. She quickly became quite famous as a pioneer of abstractionism, with accompanying rhetoric about ignored female artists and the like. Her fame has continued to grow ever since. The big retrospective at the Guggenheim Bilbao in Spain, which closed last month, was one of their most successful shows ever.

But now some members of her family are saying that this may stop, because it is too far from Klint's personal vision:

On Monday, speaking to the Swedish publication Dagens Nyheter, Erik af Klint, the artist’s great-grandnephew and the chairman of her foundation, suggested that exhibitions like the Guggenheim Bilbao one may soon cease altogether. “When a religion ends up in a museum, it is dead,” he said. “This is not meant to be public.”

He instead claimed that her art should really be shown in a place enterable only by “spiritual seekers,” since that was what af Klint would’ve wanted. “It is a message from the spirit world,” Erik said. “Period.”

I feel like Erik af Klint has just stepped into a very deep and dark theoretical forest. Is there a real difference between art and spirituality? For some people, like me, appreciating art is as close as we get to real spiritual experiences. Somebody else who understood this was Rudolf Steiner, one of modern Europe's most important spiritual thinkers. Steiner wrote books and gave lots of lectures, but he also worked with artists to create visual expressions of spiritual ideas.

Among Hilda af Klint's surviving papers are some sketches for a "temple", apparently described to her by one of her spirit guides. Erik af Klint, I have read, thinks that such a temple would be a better home for his ancestress' works than an art museum. But what, really, would be the difference? Lots of people have said that art museums are the cathedrals of the modern age.

I can certainly understand some concerns about how af Klint's paintings might be used, especially if they were sold. But it seems to me that a properly constructed and run museum could do justice to them as both art and spirit. If there is any difference between those things.

Friday, March 14, 2025

Links 14 March 2025

Degas, Two Women Draped in a Blanket

Interesting visualization of the earth's ocean currents.

Noah Smith takes on the notion that MAGA will somehow help restore things like community and faith in America: "Trump's movement has been around for a decade now, and it has built absolutely nothing."

Jewish ritual bath of the Roman period found in Ostia.

Mind-expanding 33-minute video from Veritasium on some weird things that happen when you combine quantum mechanics with the principle of least action.

Scott Siskind ponders declining reading scores for American 4th graders: was it the pandemic?

Some violence in Syria, but nothing critical yet.

Larry Summers rips Trump's tarriff policies.

Memoirs of madness, quite interesting.

The Lapedo Child, a human fossil from Portugal, always bothered paleoanthropologists because of its mix of modern human and Neanderthal characteristics. DNA testing has confirmed that there were human/Neanderthal hybrids, which inspired new interest in this specimen. Now radiocarbon dating says this fossil is 28,000 years old, 10,000 years after most authorities think Neanderthals went extinct, which raises a lot of questions. (Scientific paper, news story)

Interesting NY Times piece on migration to Dubai, where only one in ten people is a citizen.

Fascinating thread (Twitter/X) explaining the difference between the total fertility rate and something called completed cohort fertility, which often yield different numbers. If the average age at which women are having children is changing, then CCF is a more accurate measure. Unfortunately you can't measure it until a cohort of women are too old to have many more babies. In the US the cohort aging out now had 2 children per woman.

The "cat meat men" of Victorian London.

Clothes and empire: "The Mughal emperors in India faced a sartorial quandary: continue wearing their traditional Central Asian attire, or adopt the lighter cotton clothing of this warmer clime?" Great pictures.

Filming Nanook of the North.

Why Doge will not meaningfully reform government or reduce spending, from a conservative thinker.

Weird discourse in Congress, where lawmakers and experts were discussing "how to beat China back to the Moon." Considering that two Americans walked on the Moon in 1969, it seems bizarre to me that anyone cares who gets there next.

Demographers worried about population collapse are focusing on very religious families, hoping that they can fill some of the future birth void: "The only sure way United States can get back to 1.8 TFR in my estimation is if 10% of women have 5+ children. This is because it is becoming increasingly likely that 30% of women in coming years will have zero & another 10% just 1. So lot falls on the 60% to have more children." To judge from their salience in the demographic discourse you would think that Finland's famously fertile Laestadians were an important group, but really there are only about 110,00 of them. But, hey, my wife and I raised five children without belonging to a cult.

Amazing images and new science from Juno at Jupiter, 20-minute video.

Review of a book subtitled A Cultural History of Hypochondria, interesting.

Good introduction to the philosophy of Martha Nussbaum. And an interesting essay by Nussbaum herself, "Beyond Anger."

Quantum computer boosters keep claiming their devices have performed feats non-quantum computers could not perform in a million years, but then somebody finds a way to do the same calculation on a regular supercomputer.

Plans for a big regulatory rollback at the EPA focused on CO2 rules. (NY Times, CNN, Guardian) As I said before on this subject, I don't think this matters much. Solar power is not replacing coal because of wokeness; it is simply less expensive. Geothermal power has been a fantasy of the eco-left for 50 years, but it is now taking off, not because of wokeness, but because deep drilling has gotten two orders of magnitude more efficient. My company works on every kind of energy project and I have not heard of a plan for a new coal-fired plant in 25 years. MAGA cannot save coal unless they outright force utilities to burn it.

Sea otters are pretty good at controlling invasive green crabs.

NPR has an update on the shortage of doctors in rural America, which they say has gotten worse since the pandemic.

A glimpse of the Roman baths in Baden Baden.

Pondering the vaginal microbiome.

Review of a biography of the Brothers Grimm, written as a refutation of the idea that folk tales "come from nowhere and belong to everyone," which nobody in folklore studies has believed in more than a century. The older I get, the less tolerance I have for these inane straw men.

This week's random past post is Tony Judt and the Anticommunist Left, from 2013.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

The Crystal Palace Exhibition

The Crystal Palace exhibition of 1851, officially known as The Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations, was the first of the extravaganzas that later came to be called World's Fairs. It was organized by Prince Albert and other members of the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce. The main point was to celebrate modern industrial technology and show Britain's leadership in engineering and manufactures.


To house this exhibition the organizers built an extraordinary edifice dubbed The Great Shalimar, an iron-framed greenhouse measuring 1848 feet long by 454 feet wide (about 563 metres by 138 metres). This colossal and highly innovative structure went from the first sketch to its public opening in nine months. Its size was emphasized by leaving some mature trees standing inside it.


The Exhibition was one of the wonders of the age. Six million people attended, more than 30% of the population of Britain. The admission price varied according to the day and time and gradually decreased over time, so that by the end one could get in for a shilling. Just about every famous Briton of the day attended, from Charles Darwin and Karl Marx to Alfred Tennyson, Charlotte Brontë, and Charles Dickens.

All the technical creativity of the century was on display. Visitors could watch the whole process of making cloth, from spinning the thread to weaving on a numerically-programmable Jacquard Loom. There were voting machines, change-counting machines, brick-making machines, gem-carving machines, electric telegraphs, even a prototype fax machine. Samuel Colt showed off his latest revolvers; Matthew Brady won a medal for his improved photographic process. 


But if you weren't into technology, there was plenty of other stuff to see, including lots of European art and a great deal of imperial loot: the Koh-i-Noor diamond and hundreds of other gems, an Egyptian temple, Tipu Sultan's campaign tent, art objects from fifty different cultures. 

The exhibition turned a profit of £186,000, which was spent building three new museums: the Victoria and Albert, the Natural History Museum, and the Science Museum. After the Exhibition ended the building was moved to a new location in South London. In its new home it acquired various new adornment, including, in 1854, the first publicly exhibited life-sized models of dinosaurs. 


The building burned in 1936. But it leaves behind a memory, a half-remembered dream of a time when many people thought they were building a world far more wonderful and exciting than anything humans had seen before.

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

Jonathan Spence, "God's Chinese Son"

Map of Ching China showing the areas
ruled at one time or another by the Taiping.

Jonathan Spence (1936-1921) was my teacher for modern Chinese history at Yale, one of the many fabulous gifts I received from my alma mater. If you want an introduction to Chinese history from 1600 to 1989, his The Search for Modern China (1990) is the best thing I know; and if you want a short introduction to how traditional Chinese governance worked in practice, The Death of Woman Wang (1978) is terrific.

God's Chinese Son (1996) is partly a narrative of the event we call the Taiping Rebellion and partly a biography of Taiping leader Hong Xiuquan. But like all of Spence's books it really part of his grappling with China, his lifelong attempt to understand its history, culture, and likely future fate. I thought it was great.

Hong Xiuquan was from a class of people one meets over and over in Chinese history, a failed candidate in the imperial civil service exams. As with many others, his aspiring family had made a huge investment in his preparation, so his failure was a major blow to them and thus a double burden on Hong.

While traveling to Canton for his repeated exam failures, at a time when his mental state may not have been very good, Hong met Christian missionaries and became interested in their teachings. In 1837 he had a vision in which he ascended to heaven, where God, dressed in a dragon robe and seated on an imperial throne, called Hong his son and introduced him to his elder brother, Jesus. Hong began to tell his close friends and relations about his vision, and some immediately became his followers. He embarked on years of wandering southern China in which he sought to learn more about Christianity and to draw more followers to his cult of the "God Believers."

In the 1840s the Ching imperial state began the decline that ended with its overthrow in 1911. Defeat by foreigners in the First Opium War (1839-1842) had damaged the prestige of the state and its ruling Manchu dynasty, and revolts broke out in many regions against Manchu rule. Secret societies called the Triads spread, mixing banditry with ethno-nationalist rebellion, using the slogan "Destroy the Ching, Restore the Ming." Banditry was a particular problem in the region of southern China where Hong and his followers lived. For his part, Hong hated the Manchus as much as anyone, and he preached that the Manchu emperors were demons who needed to be destroyed. It was against this background of spreading chaos and anti-Manchu anger that the Imperial authorities decided, in 1851, that Hong and his roughly 30,000 followers needed to be suppressed.

This did not go according to plan.

Instead of the police action the authorities expected, they got a 14-year war in which at least 10 million people died, some say 30 million. Hong and his followers marched more than a thousand miles across southern China, driven from one place after another by imperial forces, but always regrouping and gaining more followers from among China's millions of disaffected people. Eventually the God Believers conquered the great city of Nanjing and established it as the capital of their kingdom of Perfect Peace (Taiping).

Here is a poem of Hong's, written in 1937, that may give a hint at his mental state when he launched his rebellion:

Poem on Executing the Evil and Preserving the Righteous

In my hand I wield the Universe and the power to attack and kill,
I slay the evil, preserve the righteous, and relieve the people's suffering.
My eyes see through beyond the west, the north, the rivers, and the mountains,
My voice shakes the east, the south, the Sun, and the Moon.
The glorious sword of authority was given by the Lord,
Poems and books are evidences that praise Yahweh in front of Him.
Taiping [Perfect Peace] unifies the World of Light,
The domineering air will be joyous for myriads of millennia.
I don't personally see Hong's theology as especially important to his movement. In times of uncertainty and rapid change many people are drawn to cults, and it sometimes seems to me that the content of the teachings matters little compared to just offering an alternative to the status quo, especially if it is mixed with a bit of apocalypticism. But if you are interested, Spence has a detailed account, much of it drawn from the writings of westerners who were curious about this native Chinese version of their faith.

What really struck me about the story of the Taiping is the shear scale of events in China. In nineteenth-century China, a bandit chief could command 100,000 men, a rebel cult leader like Hong 250,000. These huge armies were raised, fed, equipped, and transported thanks to the astonishing productivity of southern China's wet rice agriculture and the bustling commercial society is supported. It astonished me that both sides were able to lose whole armies in campaigns and then just raise more men to replace them, along with fleets of boats, arsenals of weapons, and so on.

Another interesting insight concerns the conspicuous competence of China's civil servants. Their education consisted entirely of reading Chinese classics and learning to write something called an "eight-legged essay" that was never used for anything except answering question on the exam. Yet once in office they did things like manage irrigations systems, build roads, negotiate with foreigners, and battle bandits. They were not perfect, of course, but they kept the empire together through nearly a century of strife. They eventually put down the Taipings, who at their peak led a state with 30 million inhabitants. One incident that lodged in my brain concerns a local official who was particularly successful at putting down banditry in his district. His superiors asked for a report on his methods. He explained that it was too crude to divide villagers into those who were "for" or "against" the bandits; instead, one had to divide people into "those who know," "those who are afraid," and "those who want things to happen."

One of the Taiping's problems was that early on they accepted a couple of people as legitimate mouthpieces for God and Jesus, in addition to Hong. The difficulties created by the sometimes conflicting pronouncements of these men were smoothed over by Hong until after they took Nanjing. In their new capital one of these prophets began to proclaim himself the equal of Hong, indeed to be another younger brother of Jesus. Hong eventually had him assassinated, and 6,000 of his followered massacred.

Tricky business, prophecy.

Some accounts of the final days of Taiping have a sort of Jonestown feel, but Spence does not see it that way. In his telling the Taiping were basically ok socially and religiously, they just lost the war against the forces of the Ching state. There was some meddling by western powers, at first in favor of the Taiping (who seemed to be a sort of Christians, however weird), and then in favor of the empire, but this was essentially a Chinese civil conflict. I think this is an important point. While some left-wing westerners have lately been blaming all of China's problems in this era as on western imperialism, most Chinese do not see it that way. They have a 2,000-year tradition of regarding meddling by foreigners as something that happens when the Chinese state is weak, along with civil wars, banditry, and revolts. In the Chinese version of Chinese history, it is always the Chinese who are the main actors, and whether things go well or ill is up to the Chinese themselves. While westerners often argue that adapting to western technology and influence is a major theme of nineteenth-century Chinese history, Chinese historians generally see it as a side issue compared to their usually problems with the decay of an old imperial dynasty. Today there is a monument to Hong Xiuquan in Nanjing with text that makes no mention of his interest in Christianity or anything else about foreigners; he is simply a man who rose up against a corrupt Chinese regime on behalf of the suffering common people.

Monday, March 10, 2025

RIP Kevin Drum

After a long battle with cancer that he regularly blogged about, Kevin Drum has died.

Other people sometimes get emotional about the deaths of actors, but I have never felt much about that. I do mourn Kevin Drum. He has been a presence in my life for decades, someone whose thinking I have come to know very well, and I miss him already.

Sunday, March 9, 2025

Abel Grimmer


This painting by Flemish master Abel Grimmer (c. 1570-1620) was recently rediscovered when the family that owned it, but had no idea what it was, put it up for auction. It is being called Landscape with Peasants near a Lakeside Castle, but that's just a description. I had never heard of Abel Grimmer, but I liked this castle, so I looked him up. 

He was born and died in Antwerp, and also spent most the years in between there. He learned to paint from his father, who got his own career started by painting small panels in the style of Pieter Breughel the Elder and selling them from a marketplace stall. Abel Grimmer's most famous painting is probably this one, The Tower of Babel (1595), now in Abu Dhabi.

One of the things I love about painting of this era is the little wonders in the background. This is Christ Carrying the Cross.


And these are the buildings in the background. Perfect. These glimpses of background cities are like little hidden worlds, and they entice me like doors into Faerie.





But Grimmer is most famous as a painter of ordinary life. The bottom one is a nice reminder of how much labor was involved in creating those famous geometric gardens.

This one, The Marketplace of Bergen op Zoom, is "attributed to" Grimmer, but it certainly looks very much like the others. Anyway a pleasant discovery for a weekend when Spring is making hints but not yet ready to arrive.

Saturday, March 8, 2025

The Age of Busyness

Matt Yglesias, who has never had any job that didn't involve being online all the time, has been trying to recenter himself by reading old books. One of the things he learned from nineteenth-century novels is that rich people used to think it was ok to do nothing.

Yglesias is writing about Victorian England, and even in that case there were plenty of rich people who did a lot; for every Mr. Darcy enjoying his garden there was a Henry Layard traveling the world and excavating Nineveh. In other societies the demands on the rich and prominent were much greater.

But one thing aristocrats did not do across much of European history was hold jobs. Some did, mainly in the military or the high reaches of government, but plenty of others cultivated their leisure as best they could.

So it does strike me as interesting that in our era the aristocrats one hears about all have careers. Like, the Princess von Thurn und Taxis who was an editor at Vogue, or the Earl and Countess of Sandwich, who own one of England's most famous private houses and have spent their lives being busy as an executive in international development (the Earl) and a journalist (the Countess).

I have noted several times on this blog that the only prize our society can think up to give people for hard work and good behavior is a "rewarding career." When Covid created severe labor shortages in some industries many firms reacted, not by raising pay, but by touting "opportunities for advancement." The "American Dream," insofar as I understand it, was always about earning money, not inheriting it. Money you don't earn by hard work makes us suspicious, and we love sharing stories about people ruined by lottery riches, or professional athletes bankrupt within five years of leaving the league.

It seems to me that as a society we put a huge emphasis of work; work as identity, work as virtue, work as psychological stimulus. I wonder how many of our social pathologies can be traced back to our obsession with work and career success. On the other hand, I have no idea what we would do without work, which is one reason I am worried about the post-AI future.

Friday, March 7, 2025

Links 7 March 2025

Fragment of a La Tene torc, now in the British Museum

The Mediterranean grass Carl Linnaeus dubbed Poa annua is one of the world's great colonizers, even spreading to Antarctica.

Matt Levine explains the company bidding to buy the remains of InfoWars by issuing memecoins.

South Korea's birthrate ticked up a little last year, from 0.72 to 0.75, which is nice but no reason for some of the triumphant crowing coming from South Korean officials. They have not solved their problem.

The "truth" about the "Epstein files." The various prosecutions and civil lawsuits concerning Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell generated tens of thousands of pages of material, much of which has already been made public. News organizations have put some of this online in searchable formats, including Epstein's address book and the flight logs to the island. Much of the rest has not yet been made public because nobody has had the time to cleanse it of the names of victims and other parties who have not been accused of a crime (like Donald Trump, who appears plenty but was turned into "Doe 174"). The idea that there are bombshell revelations yet to come from this material is silly.

Japan looks to robots to take over caring for its aging population.

The cuisine of ancient Egypt, at Atlas Obscura. Interesting that there are a lot of pig bones in Egyptian archaeological sites but no pigs in tomb paintings. Anothing interesting note is that the workers building the great pyramids ate a lot of cow and pig feet, which struck sparks in my brain because cow feet figured prominently in the diet of the inmates in the Bruin Slave Jail. I guess cow feet have a long history of serving as cheap, high-protein food for poor workers.

Fixing social science using "replay review" for famous articles, on the model of professional sports. The argument is that we don't have the resources to do real reviews of all research before publication, so we should have a separate, better-funded process for research that has become important.

More weird details from the administration's DEI purge, including censoring documents about the Enola Gay and papers by scientists named Gay.

This fall the Metropolitan Opera performed Grounded, an opera by Jeanine Tesori about an American drone pilot. Trailer here. Ninety seconds of "Blue," the first aria, here, review here that calls it a "triumph."

Tyler Cowen interviews science writer Carl Zimmer, much about airborne diseases and the possibility of life on other worlds.

And a review of Zimmer's new book on life in the air.

Denmark's postal service will no longer deliver letters after the end of the year; other European postal services are drastically cutting back.

Sabine Hossenfelder reads a study that was cited by a lot of US media arguing that human-induced climate change made the recent Los Angeles fires more likely and worse, notices that they actually found no statistically significant relationship but made their assertions anyway. 7-minute video.

I Used to Teach Students. Now I Catch ChatGPT Cheats.

Melting permafrost exposes whaling-era graves on Svalbard.

Foucault and Neoliberalism, interesting essay.

Spitalfields Life has a photoset of old churches in the City of London.

Tyler Cowen on the importance of card games in his childhood, which was also true in my family.

Retirements of coal-fired power plants in the US will increase in 2025.

Taking off from the notion that Trump's victory will somehow revitalize an elite culture that has been ruined by leftist politics and distrust of greatness, Becca Rothfeld ponders the connections between art and politics in the Romantic age.

Wednesday, March 5, 2025

The Minds of People on Social Media

A MAGA classic from somebody called Insurrection Barbie on Twitter/X:

In 2022, NBC was reporting that Joe Biden lost his temper with Zelensky because he wasn’t grateful and he was very demanding.

That’s in 2022.

Wait, the media didn’t tell you about this? I wonder why…
So is NBC not part of "the media"?

First Daffodils, and Others

First daffodils I have seen this year, at the old estate I mentioned last week.

Amazing meadow of snowdrops, like this across half an acre.

One-antlered buck.

Decorative concrete piece, probably a leg from a garden bench.

Tuesday, March 4, 2025

Listening to "The Autumn of the Patriarch"

The Autumn of the Patriarch (1975) is a famous and famously weird novel by Gabriel García Márquez about the old age of a Latin American Dictator. It is written like a fever dream, an endless series of bizarre anecdotes told in extremely long sentences that randomly shift in tense, person, point of view, and style. The main subjects seem to be the loneliness of power, the absurdity of dictatorship, and the inevitability of decay, but honestly cows, birds, and whores may get as many words as any of the deeper themes.

I tried to read it a long time ago but bogged down and never finished. During my recent fieldwork I decided to listen to it, and this went wonderfully. I liked it much better read aloud that I did when I tried to read it to myself, lettering the mad words just flow over me rather than my trying to disentangle them. I highly recommend this way of appreciating García Márquez, and he now joins my list of authors (Dickens, J.K. Rowling) who are better to listen to than to read.

Friday, February 28, 2025

Frisbee Dog

Frisbee with Kidu, this week. I always thought it would be fun to have a dog to play frisbee with, and now I live with one who loves it.



Two Days Outside

I didn't write much last week for a bunch of reasons, including fatigure from a very busy weekend and spending all of Wednesday and Thursday out in the field. This was a continuation of the monitoring gig I wrote about several times last year, along the George Washington Memorial Parkway in northern Virginia.

The road is being rebuilt, and as part of this project they are repairing a bunch of outfalls (places where pipes that carry water under the road empty out). You can see from this picture that some of the outfalls are in bad shape. The GW Parkway parallels the Potomac River and a good portion of it lies within archaeological sites. So the National Park Service, which owns the Parkway, has required that work on the outfalls within archaeological sites be monitored by an archaeologist. Including this one.

The subcontractor responsible for rebuilding the outfalls is a Spanish-speaking outfit called RBA. Speaking no Spanish, I sometimes have trouble communicating with their crews; usually at least one has passable English, but not always. One interesting incident happened Tuesday when four guys were carrying an erosion control snake into position. (Photo from last year to show what this looks like.) The snakes are full of mulch, so they are heavy, and these guys were carrying one about 30 feet long down a pretty steep slope when one guy's belt came undone and his pants fell down. He stopped, which led to a sort of chain reaction along the line, everyone being brought up short and one guy falling down. Then somebody said something that must have been hilarious, because they all started laughing uproariously while they tried to get their train started again, stumbling, bumping into each other, laughing so hard they sometimes doubled over as they worked their way down the slope. Quite the scene.


The foreman of this crew was a guy I think of as the Stump Hater. He hates stumps and spends what seems to me like crazy amounts of time removing all stumps from anywhere he is working. The only time during this project I ever rushed out into the work zone was to stop this guy from digging out a stump in an artifact-rich area where he had no business digging. So of course while he was cutting a sort of ramp across the face of the steep slope above the outfall he spent most of the time digging out four stumps. Watching this I kept thinking that I would have done this ramp differently and used the largest stump to buttress the downhill side of the ramp, but no. Since this was all up on the fill prism for the roadway, built in the 1950s, it was none of my business, so I just watched as he methodically wreaked his vengeance on all nearby stumps.

I spent my breaks exploring. This site was about 50 yards from a stream called Pimmit Run, which looks like this.



Just downstream from my outfall were the remains of a late 19th-century estate that was torn down when the parkway was built, including terracing, specimen trees, and a strange little fishpond.

I was fascinated by the patterning of the dead reeds along the creek, but it would take a much better photographer than I to capture the effect.

On my birthday I found snowdrops blooming; one of the great things about a late February birthday is that nature often celebrates the day with early signs of spring.

A red-shouldered hawk gave me a severe screeching when I walked too close, but it was in no mood to be photographed so all I got was this surrealist blob.

All in all it was two pretty good days.