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  1. Margi Young 4
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  6. ... And What Era Would You Like to Visit?
  7. Living in Another Era
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Friday, May 12, 2006

Margi Young 4
Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- A few days ago I introduced Margi Young, a wonderful yoga teacher who, before turning to yoga, was a dancer and a choreographer. In Part One of my interview with Margi, we talked about how Margi found her way from dance to choreography to yoga. In Part Two, we discussed yoga and exercise. In Part Three, we chatted about living the yoga life. Today, we talk about yoga and the arts. *** AN INTERVIEW WITH MARGI YOUNG Part Four 2B: I'd like to ask you to compare the various roles you've played. What was dancing for you? Physical bliss? Fun-fun-fun? MY: I think it was fulfilling a dream. 2B: You had ballerina dreams? MY: A lot of little girls do. Something about the physicality and the openness of their bodies and being able to be on tippy-toes ... And I loved the music. I always liked people who were interested in dance, so I loved my dance friends. The people for the most part are good. You spend a lot of time kvetching about the choreographer, and how rough your life is. (laughs) So you bond over that. 2B: How about the artistic and expressive things? MY: I just always thought it was really superduper fun. 2B: What's it like being a dancer by comparison to being a choreographer? MY: When you're a dancer -- well, dancers are like the paints. And the choreographer is like the painter. 2B: What's the experience like of being the paint? MY: In the beginning, for many years it was just great to be told what to do. I had so much respect for the people I worked for. And the more physical the dance is the more exciting the experience is. But I got to the point where I didn't want anybody to tell me what to do anymore. I felt my ideas were far better than anyone else's ideas. 2B: "I want to be in charge!" MY: Exactly. That's when I decided I wanted to be a choreographer, because I wanted to put out my own ideas. It's a really different ballgame. 2B: A lot of actors like lending themselves to a project, and almost blinding themselves to everything else happening around them. Was that part of your enjoyment? MY: I did enjoy it. It's almost the same thing as when I go to a yoga class. When the teacher says, "Do you have any requests?", I never have any requests. I'm more like, "Tell me what to do." There's something so relaxing about that. As far as being a dancer, you're told when to be where. It's relaxing, it's easy. 2B: Someone else is taking care of all the grownup stuff. MY: Yeah. It was fun until it wasn't fun. 2B: When you started making dances did you miss the dancing? MY: No, I sort of lost my desire to dance. Though not to perform! There was so much satisfaction watching your work onstage --... posted by Michael at May 12, 2006 | perma-link | (8) comments

Buford on Italian Cooking
Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- Among real Italian cooks, says Bill Buford, "fusion" is an "awful word." Nice passage: In Italy you learn a sense of composition: certain things go with certain things. At the fancy restaurants, it’s like writing a sonnet. You’re working within a very formal structure for what goes with what, but there’s quite a lot of room for creativity. Often, the creativity is dictated by the season, what’s fresh. When you get back from Italy and go to a typical Italian restaurant in America, you look at the menu and see all the shit they’re putting in the pasta to make it interesting, and you think, Yuck. It’s too complicated. The Italian view is, it’s not just two or three ingredients; it’s the right two or three ingredients that all talk to each other. You want to make sure your two or three ingredients are perfect, in and of themselves. I often think that cooking is a good model for all the arts ... Best, Michael UPDATE: Jonathan's comment on this posting reminds me of a great quote from the great Leon Krier. He was writing about architecture: "As is the case with all good things in life -- love, good manners, language, cooking -- personal creativity is required only rarely." Here's a superb interview with Krier by Nikos Salingaros. Here's a sensible review of Krier's beyond-fabulous "Architecture: Choice or Fate?"... posted by Michael at May 12, 2006 | perma-link | (4) comments

Callow on Welles; Server on Hayward
Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- Of the books on Orson Welles that I've been through, the standout (IMHO, of course) has been volume one of Simon Callow's biography of Welles. Callow dealt with Welles as a man, not a myth, and he cast a realistic yet appeciative eye on Welles' work as a performer and director. (As his classic biography of Charles Laughton confirms, Callow -- an actor himself -- is one of the best writers ever on acting.) Needless to say, the Welles cult rose up in outraged anger. Volume one, which covered Welles' life up through "Citizen Kane," was published 11 years ago. So I'm pleased to see that volume two has just come out in England. Philip French likes Callow's work as much as I do. (Link thanks to ALD.) The book will be published in the U.S. in September. Here's an amusing interview with Callow, who is quite the outsized personality himself. Speaking of film biographies, have you bought your copy yet of Lee Server's "Ava Gardner"? FvB and I are both big fans of "Danger is My Business" and "Over My Dead Body," Server's books about pulp magazines and hard-boiled fiction. They're inspired blends of history and criticism: insightful about the fiction and the writers, yet wised-up and low-down about the business and the market. They're also fabulous and earthy introductions to a couple of key eras in American culture. Academic is one thing that Lee Server ain't. I can also recommend Server's first-class "Encyclopedia of Pulp Fiction Writers" and his magnificently tough-minded biography, "Robert Mitchum: Baby I Don't Care." As far as I'm concerned, Server is an ideal writer about popular culture -- responsive to its rough poetry, unafraid of (and even drawn to) the often-squalid, often-nutsy conditions it's born out of. Here's a very likable interview with Lee Server. I'm pleased to note that Server and I share some tastes. He's a fan of some of the same crime writers I love most: Donald Westlake, Charles Willeford, and Patricia Highsmith. Here's Peter Bogdanovich raving about the Ava Gardner bio. Here's some colorful praise for the book by The Guardian's Carole Cadwalladr. Best, Michael... posted by Michael at May 12, 2006 | perma-link | (0) comments

Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- * Does buying organic food make a difference? And if so, what kind? * Allan Wall sizes up Mexico's billionaires, and wonders why they aren't doing more to help their country's poor. Fun fact for the day: Public officials in Mexico pay themselves better than public officials do in rich countries. * Is it unthinkably inhumane to treat illegal immigrants as felons? (Currently the U.S. treats them as mere civil offenders.) If that's the case, then how odd it is that Switzerland, Sweden, Japan, Egypt, and -- oh, yeah -- Mexico all do just that. * Hey, Pauline Kael's superb essay about Cary Grant is now online. You don't read writing like that in magazines any longer. * The BBC has climbed on board the happiness bandwagon. Meanwhile, Psychology Today asks whether happiness is even possible in the absence of adversity. * Supercute girlpunk! Shades of Bananarama, the Go-Gos, and Shonen Knife! * Thanks to Tatyana, who sent along a link to this doozy of a Daniel Libeskind tower soon to go up in Sacramento. Two questions: 1) What kind of idiot thinks that buildings should resemble pieces of abstract/conceptual sculpture? And 2) Why is the word "luminous" so prominent in today's high-end real-estate/ architecture market? Best, Michael... posted by Michael at May 12, 2006 | perma-link | (14) comments

Margi Young 3
Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- A few days ago I introduced Margi Young, a wonderful yoga teacher who, before turning to yoga, was a dancer and a choreographer. In Part One of my interview with Margi, we talked about how Margi found her way from dance to choreography to yoga. In Part Two, we talked about yoga and exercise. Today, we talk about living the yoga life. *** AN INTERVIEW WITH MARGI YOUNG Part Three 2B: You're flexible, you're in touch with your body, and you're strong. Most of us aren't in that kind of state when we come to yoga. Yet you seem to know exactly what's going on inside another person's body, even one that isn't remotely like your own. How do you do that? MY: Past lives? I don't know. 2B: Do you recognize it as a strength? MY: I do recognize it's a strength, and I can sense that I'm intuitive like that. But I don't know how I do it. I just feel like ... I don't know. I see it. I see people. I understand that they're trying, and that there's a limitation there. And I have a tool bag of ideas to help people. 2B: Were you super-empathetic as a dancer and choreographer too? MY: It's a different mind-frame. If you aren't good at dance class, then you really are a loser. But I do feel good at knowing what yoga students are experiencing. My boyfriend, for example, is very physical and very good in his body. But he can't imagine that someone else wouldn't be. He can't imagine that you couldn't fold forward and touch the ground like he can. 2B: I'm struck by the way your classes have a theme and they take on a shape. But it doesn't feel like you come into it with a script. MY: I think it may come from my dance training. I can very easily put together a basic yoga-class sequence. Once in a while I might plan something. But mostly I see who's there, and I take in the vibe of the room, and stuff comes out of my mouth when I open it. 2B: You're very verbal, and many dancers aren't. MY: To be a good yoga teacher you have to be verbal. It's not about showing, it's about guiding. It's about language. 2B: There's a lot of cuing. MY: A lot. One of the exercises you do in teacher training is write down the alphabet and write down verbs. A, ascend. B, blossom. And then use those words in teaching a Sun Salutation. It's very much about developing language. We would bore ourselves to tears if we didn't come up with fresh language to describe things. A teacher trainee watching my class asked me, "Do you get sick of saying, 'Deepen your breath, roll to your right side'..."But there are different ways to express it. 2B: Yoga language is a hoot too. "Invite yourself to..." It's kind of corny, but... posted by Michael at May 12, 2006 | perma-link | (5) comments

Thursday, May 11, 2006

... And What Era Would You Like to Visit?
Donald Pittenger writes: Dear Blowhards -- In a recent post titled "Living in Another Era" (here) I asked what time/place readers might want to live. Commenters Michael Blowhard and Lexington Green wisely noted that modern medicines and other essentials would be lacking. Lexington also stated that he's just fine with the here and now ("This is the golden age of health, wealth and opportunity.") I think they are right, and have thought so for quite a while, though I had some doubts back in the 1970s. In the 70s, I figured that my parents (born 1907/08) probably had it best despite having to endure the Great Depression. As a matter of fact, I consider myself extremely lucky to be living when and where I am: Consider all the less-pleasant alternatives. Then Friedrich von Blowhard jumped in with the following: I'd absolutely love to visit (not necessarily live in) two periods: Florence in 1300 A.D., when both Giotto and Dante were in residence there. In addition to buying those two a beer, I'd love to have seen how pre-Renaissance Florence, an industrial city with a far larger population and with a far more dynamic economy than its Renaissance avatar, worked, as the Florentines of that era were really making it up as they went along. Likewise, I'd love to have seen Amsterdam in roughly 1600 A.D. while the Dutch were fighting the Spanish, creating a world empire, and developing the first modern economy (to say nothing of inventing the microscope and the thermometer)--a good chance to catch the modern world 'in ovo'. This is a better idea for a Comments feast. Experience the interesting stuff without the health dangers. Lemme see... I think New York City 1925-1940 would be fascinating. So would California in the late 30s. And Paris in the Belle Époque; London in the same era. Oh, and both in 1925-35. For some reason I can't quickly come up with an earlier period that hops onto my "must visit" list. I'll mull it over and add a comment if something strikes me. Now it's your turn. Later, Donald... posted by Donald at May 11, 2006 | perma-link | (14) comments

Living in Another Era
Donald Pittenger writes I suspect that most folks, at one time or another, wonder what life would have been like if they'd lived in another country, in another time or, most likely, both. Of course you could never have been you if you hadn't been conceived at the exact time you were by the exact-same egg and sperm. Otherwise, something would have differed -- perhaps only the shape of your nose -- and your life slowly would have diverged from the path it actually took. Nevertheless, it can be fun to speculate. Knowing that it's all rather pointless, I don't dwell on it -- haven't given the matter much serious thought. So take what follows for what little it's worth. When I was a teenager, I became fascinated by the Roaring Twenties. I once read a humor novel (I forget the title and author) set in the Twenties college scene. The hero was named Joe College and the heroine was called Betty Coed, natch. They did all the fun football and frat house parties stuff. Boy that seemed neat! Nowadays, being a barely-detectable bit more mature (those frat house parties with Betty still seem pretty neat), I suppose I'd prefer to live when and where a great empire was at its peak. Besides peace and prosperity (away from the frontiers, anyhow), there would be lots of interesting cultural and intellectual activity. (Part of my fantasy is that I'd be roughly the same relative socioeconomic status that I am here and now -- no danger of being a galley-slave). So maybe it would be Roman times: late Republic or early Empire, let's say. Or in England between the time of the Crimean War and the Great War. An alternative English example would be London in the time of Dr. Johnson. On further thought, if cultural/intellectual considerations were less important and quality of daily life was a leading criterion, then living in an imperial province or protectorate would do. Examples might include Provence, Cisalpine Italy or Greece during the Roman times just mentioned. What are some of your picks? Later, Donald... posted by Donald at May 11, 2006 | perma-link | (14) comments

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Margi Young 2
Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- Yesterday I introduced Margi Young, a wonderful yoga teacher who, before turning to yoga, was a dancer and a choreographer. In Part One of my interview with Margi, we talked about how Margi found her way from dance to choreography to yoga. Today, we talk about yoga and exercise. *** AN INTERVIEW WITH MARGI YOUNG Part Two 2B: What would you say your own greatest physical challenges are? MY: Every day is different. Naturally I'm weak and a little tight, but I've been working on it for so long. 2B: Are you naturally slim too? MY: Yes. 2B: Do you have to work at being slim? MY: I have a slim mother. People ask me if I'm so slim because I do yoga, and I have to answer, "No, it's because of my genes." 2B: Any special diet? MY: Just born this way. I got heavy as a freshman in college from pizza and beer. 2B: You developed the freshman-girl waddle! MY: I was shocked when I was dating this guy and he said, "I think you could lose five pounds." (gasps) I always thought I was thin! 2B: When you do athletics, how does the feeling compare to when you do yoga? MY: It's miserable. (laughs) Really, I have a fight to do any exercise if it's not yoga. And yoga isn't exactly exercise. Yoga and exercise do not go hand in hand for me. The more yoga you do, the easier it gets. I'm good at relaxing in stressful times. I'm good at doing challenging yoga poses and staying relaxed. But I feel like I should do something more. 2B: Being in superb yoga shape isn't good enough for you? MY: I feel like I should do something to get my heart rate up. 2B: I've lost interest in gym exercise since I started yoga. MY: When I do yoga, my heart rate lowers. For me, yoga is the opposite of cardiovascular. When I practice yoga these days I'm really quite relaxed. I don't even get near sweating unless the weather is really hot. So I feel like it's necessary for me to do cardiovascular exercise. I just should. It keeps you healthy and helps you live longer. 2B: Yet a lot of yoga people seem to live forever. MY: That's true. Maybe yoga's enough. 2B: Were you ever a gym-goer? MY: No. I'm trying to be more of one. 2B: What are you doing these days? MY: I go swimming. I swam for about ten minutes today. But I get tired and bored. I'm not inclined to do very repetitive action. 2B: Do you ever consider using weights and treadmills? MY: I consider it almost daily. 2B: What's it like for you when you do manage to do some gym work? MY: I try to get into a meditative state. But I'm just not very oriented that way. 2B: What does gym-going look like when you're a dancer? MY: I was... posted by Michael at May 10, 2006 | perma-link | (20) comments

Margi Young 1
Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- It's been three years now that I've been attending yoga classes regularly. Although I'm still an achey 50-something, I'm a considerably happier, more easy-going, and less-achey 50-something than I was before taking up yoga. FWIW, I'd say that studying yoga has been one of the half-dozen most valuable things I've ever done for myself -- a lot less valuable than lassooing and marrying The Wife for sure, but far more worthwhile and rewarding than, say, going to college, let alone talking to a shrink. One of the biggest yoga-related surprises I've had is the way that yoga has affected my experience of the arts. I look to them for less than I once did; I seem to feel that they're under no obligation to deliver anything in particular. (How odd: I guess I once did think of them as owing me something ...) Why should it be that I'm easier on the arts than I once was? As far as I can tell, the answer is simple: I get something very directly from doing yoga that I once looked to the arts for. I'm not entirely sure what that is, though. Physical pleasure? Sensual ravishment? Aesthetic bliss? Spiritual refreshment? All the above and more? Of the many good and inspiring yoga teachers I've studied with, my favorite has been Margi Young, who teaches at Om Yoga in Manhattan. (Margi's name is pronounced with a hard "g", as in "margarita.") Margi is an elegant, creative, and generous teacher, full of spirit and appreciation. She's amazingly "present," in the sense not just of never-tuning-out but also of always-being-kind-and-alert-and-reponsive. She has a deep knowledge not just of how bodies work but of how they interact with emotional systems. Luckily for the likes of me, she seems to get a genuine kick out of teaching beginners. I'm a fan as well of Margi's impish and mischievous streak. But perhaps her most remarkable gift as a teacher is a "Sixth Sense"-like intuitive feeling for what people in the class are struggling with and experiencing. I once took a friend to a Margi class. Afterwards, he shook his head in amazement. "It was like she was inside my body and my head, knowing exactly what I was feeling and thinking! It was weird! It was great!", he marveled. Over the years of attending her classes, I learned that, before she became a yoga teacher, Margi was a dancer and a choreographer who worked on both the East and the West coasts. It occurred to me one day ... Since I'm interested in both yoga and art ... Since Margi has extensive experience with both ... Since she's verbally-gifted too ... Well, suffice it to say that my blogger's resourcefulness kicked in. So I asked Margi to sit down for a 2Blowhards interview. To my delight she agreed. Over the course of a few meals, I asked Margi about her experiences as a dancer, as a choreographer, as a yoga student,... posted by Michael at May 10, 2006 | perma-link | (8) comments

Michael Blowhard writes: Dear Blowhards -- * Was Stephen Colbert's performance at the White House Press Correspondent's dinner last week brilliantly funny or just plain obnoxious? You decide. * Tyler Cowen lists the top five lies of economists. * Long ago I raved about Patrick Allitt's lecture series for the Teaching Company entitled "American Religious History." It's a cruise through American history from an unexpectedly enlightening point of view; Allitt himself is a wonderfully clear, upbeat, and helpful guide. I notice that the series is now on sale for a very good price. * While Republicans do their best to make LBJ look like a skinflint, Australia's budget has been in surplus for 9 of the last 10 years. * Who were the book packagers behind the Kaavya Viswanathan fiasco anyway? Thanks to Prairie Mary, who sent along a link to this good NY Observer article about Alloy Entertainment. * Mary herself wonders how anyone can think of cats as "cute." As you might expect, Mary's posting is anything but an example of the usual catblogging. * Steve recommends Nicholas Wade's new book. * So, Townes Van Zandt ... That weird Michael Blowhard sure loves his music. But how can I be certain whether I really want to commit hard-earned bucks to sampling his work? YouTube to the rescue: * Jonathan reveals the grimy truth about keyboards. * Geeks, eh? (NSFW) Best, Michael Blowhard... posted by Michael at May 10, 2006 | perma-link | (4) comments

Monday, May 8, 2006

Carmel Has Gone to the Dogs
Donald Pittenger writes: Dear Blowhards -- Carmel-by-the-Sea, California went to the dogs years ago, though I haven't yet discovered exactly when it happened or why. What most folks call "Carmel" is officially "Carmel-by-the-Sea" and is distinct from Carmel Highlands, Carmel Valley and other nearby Carmel-ish places named after the mission established in 1771. Carmel-by-the-Sea was an artist colony as long ago as 1913 when poet Robinson Jeffers settled there. Carmel is at the southern edge of the Monterey Peninsula and adjoins ritzy, golf course strewn Pebble Beach, home of the famous Lone Cypress tree and the annual Concours d'Élégance classic automobile show. Perhaps its best-known resident is actor Clint Eastwood, who served for a time as mayor. He owns the Mission Ranch resort which includes a nice restaurant where I sometimes dine. Other Carmel area residents you might have heard of are Reggie Jackson the baseball player ("Mr. October") and actress-singer Doris Day. Doris Day is a big-time animal lover. She is part-owner of Carmel's Cypress Inn hotel, which is big-time pet-friendly. I visited the Cypress Inn once a couple of years ago. As you can see on its Web site, it's a charming-looking place. There are plenty of framed Doris Day movie posters and you probably won't have to wait long before spying an animal -- a dog, most likely. Actually, when walking the art gallery infested streets of Carmel, you're seldom out of sight of a pooch. Or two. Or three or more. Many with the same owner; multiple leashes might well be a status symbol hereabouts. Dogs range from twitchy, tiny things to shaggy, white ones resembling small polar bears. Here are some pictures I snapped on a recent visit. (Pardon the quality; it's my first digital camera and I'm still learning how to get pictures from the camera to the blog.) Carmel-by-the-Sea Dog Gallery The central sign is for a pet goods store. Many stores offer water bowls for passing pooches. Tiffany too! Petting other folks' pets is a favorite sidewalk activity. No comment. Carmel has too many dogs for my taste and for the taste of The Fiancée as well: we often find ourselves making snide remarks about them and (especially) their owners. No doubt this is because I'm not much of a dog fan. I like dogs in theory, mind you. They can be useful for tending sheep and calling out warnings when strangers approach. But I don't like them sticking their slobbery snouts on me. Nor do I have enough time to devote to their psychological needs to be a good owner. Cats are much less trouble, but I prefer being pet-free. (Yes, my family once had a pet dog when I was young: cats too.) All-in-all, I think Carmel needs fewer dogs and more children. I'm certain that all of you agree. Later, Donald... posted by Donald at May 8, 2006 | perma-link | (10) comments

Only One Bumper Sticker
Donald Pittenger writes: Dear Blowhards -- Only once did I ever put a bumper sticker on a car of mine. I'm talking about political or slogan stickers, not the kind you need for parking or other identification purposes. And I did it when both I and the bumper sticker phenomenon were young. The fall of 1960, if you want to know. It was during the presidential campaign that year and I was gung-ho JFK. Cast my first vote for him a few days after I turned 21. Along with campaign buttons, I scooped up a bumper sticker and slapped it on the family's 1951 Pontiac, the car I normally got to drive. My father wasn't especially amused, having voted for a Democrat in a presidential election only in 1936. But he tolerated my whim; after all, he didn't often drive the Pontiac (he drove a 1956 DeSoto) and so wouldn't have been seen as endorsing Kennedy. The bad part came after the election when it was time to remove the sticker. I discovered that it didn't peel off cleanly. In fact, I couldn't remove it completely; forever after there were bits of sticker clinging to the right-rear bumper area. Perhaps there was an effective way to remove the things, but I didn't know it: still don't. Maybe they've improved the stickum since 1960 and modern bumper stickers peel off like old Band-Aids, for all I know. That doesn't matter to me because I've never attached a bumper sticker since. Why? At first it was because of my sticker-removal experience. In recent years I worry that my car will be damaged by folks who don't like my politics (I drive to Seattle a lot). Mostly, I've come to the opinion that bumper stickers are kinda silly and don't enhance the appearance of a car. Still, if I could rent space on my car to advertisers like they do in NASCAR and Formula 1.... Later, Donald... posted by Donald at May 8, 2006 | perma-link | (19) comments

Art Innovation Bleg
Donald Pittenger writes: Dear Blowhards -- A "bleg" is a case of begging for something via a blog post. Well, I've come a'blegging. One major source of the blogosphere's power is its ability to quickly marshal information from knowledgeable sources. So here I am, tin cup in hand, to ask about artists who are considered to have made innovations in painting. I took a year of art history classes back in the days when cars had tail fins. One of my main memories of those classes was that the instructor cast art history in terms who who innovated what. Alas, my memory is now hazy regarding just who all those who's were, as well as which what's were whose. For the last year or so I've been focusing my reading on the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the period when art began its transformation to what we have now. My knowledge of art history before that period, while okay, is less solid than I'd like. But I have a full-time job plus a wedding coming up soon, and don't have the free time to read half a dozen books on art history to dredge up the needed details. I won't tip my hand as to where this will lead (though some of you will guess correctly), but I assure you the information I need is important to me. Okay. The scene is set. Now to refine my request. I am not interested in painting innovations since the time the Impressionists got going -- call it 1870, in round numbers. Nor am I interested in art created before, say, 1370 or thereabouts because documentation tends to be too sketchy. Call it the 500 years 1370-1870, though you have my permission to fudge on either end if you have something really important to mention. Rediscoveries of Greek/Roman innovations are okay to include. Another thing I'm not really interested in is technological innovations such as the introduction of oil paints. Innovations in subject matter are of interest, provided such can be strongly linked to one or a few artists. To get the ball rolling, here are some innovations I'm interested in. Others are welcome. One-point perspective. Two-point perspective. Three-point perspective. Atmospheric perspective. Chiaroscuro. Conscious use of scientific color theory. Also welcome are citations of books or articles. Bookwise, I'd probably be most interested in one whose focus was similar to that of my art history classes -- who did what first. All contributions will be studied, though I can't promise that all will be used when I get around to writing the post(s) based on the information gathered. Thank you for your interest in this matter. Later, Donald... posted by Donald at May 8, 2006 | perma-link | (10) comments