Thursday, 31 October 2013
Tuesday, 29 October 2013
The new english garden by Tim Richardson
The New English Garden - in pictures
The New English Garden is a new book surveying the most significant gardens in England today. Below is a selection of some of the 25 gardens picked by garden writer and historian Tim Richardson. Photographs by Andrew Lawson
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The hot borders at Packwood House, Warwickshire, designed by
Mick Evans.Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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The grass garden at Bury Court in Hampshire, designed by
Christopher Bradley-Hole.Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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James Alexander-Sinclair's terrace borders at Cottesbrooke
Hall in Northamptonshire. Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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The Exotic Garden at Great Dixter, East Sussex, famously the
site of the old rose garden, still stands as a pioneering exemplar of
devil-may-care horticultural exuberance, with its large cannas, yuccas,
gunneras and other operatic stars. Dixter is gardened at a connoisseurial level
that is probably unmatched worldwide, the result of a continuous programme of
aesthetic appraisal and alteration which was developed by Christopher Lloyd and
head gardener Fergus Garrett, and is now continued by Fergus and his team
[since Lloyd's death in 2006].Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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The walled garden at Scampston Hall, Yorkshire, designed by
Piet Oudolf.Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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The Manor House, Armscote in Warwickshire. Designer Dan
Pearson gives a conventional lawn with an Arts and Crafts corner pavilion a
modern appeal by simple fringe plantings of Alchemilla mollis and a distinctive
wavy-topped edge.Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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The lower parterre at Trentham near Stoke-on-Trent in
autumn, with Piet Oudolf's flanking plantings in the foreground and Tom
Stuart-Smith's beyond. Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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Mount St John, Yorkshire designed by Tom Stuart-Smith. Here
the big views are complemented by big-scale plantings which bulk up in late
summer. Halfway down the slope a lateral pool breaks up the space and invites
the visitor in.Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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The Cotswolds goes cosmic at Througham Court, a lovely stone
farmhouse set on the edge of an enviably obscure Gloucestershire valley. Here,
designer-owner Christine Facer - whose work could best be described as of the
Charles Jencks School of Cosmic Gardening - has created a garden which is in
part a homage to Jencks's original Garden of Cosmic Speculation in Scotland.
Pictured here is the Arts and Crafts Sunken Garden designed by Norman
Jewson.Photograph: Andrew Lawson
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Redesigning gardens: when old favourites become new again
Timeless English gardens are always changing, says author
Tim Richardson.
By Tim Richardson7:00AM BST 20 Sep 2013/
Entitling a book The New English Garden (my latest) was
always going to be somewhat controversial. But I stand by the premise that all
25 gardens in it have been "made or remade" over the past 10 to 15
years. Gardens naturally regenerate themselves, of course, and gardening is a
notoriously and gloriously unstable practice.
Which is not to say everything has to be swept away in order
for "newness" to reign. An established structure, especially hedges
and old brick walls, is gold dust to any garden maker. Great Dixter is perhaps
the best example; Christopher Lloyd always insisted on recognition of the
topiary and hedge system his father installed with help from Edwin Lutyens, and
which provided the frame for his own horticultural exploits.
Some of the most fascinating elements of the gardens I
selected are features retained from a previous era, remodelled to suit the tone
of the new garden.
The 'Italian' sunken garden
This classic Arts and Crafts feature from the early 20th
century can be found at scores of English gardens, often in a slightly
dilapidated state. In its heyday the sunken garden was a glamorous spot for
whiling away the pre-dinner hour with a cocktail. Today's gardeners have been
exploring the horticultural possibilities of the space. At Packwood in
Warwickshire, the sunken garden has been given a new identity with dramatic
Mediterranean and South African exotic-themed plantings – kniphofias,
euphorbias, eryngiums and succulent echeverias and sedums. Poppies and white
verbascums dotted about complement the unbuttoned feel of what was originally
conceived as a romantic but "formal" feature.
Dan Pearson has taken a similarly irreverent approach at
Armscote Manor in Oxfordshire, where an enclosed Twenties sunken pool garden is
now pleasingly overrun by Rosa rugosa, reinforced by the more delicate
varieties 'Roseraie de l'Hay' and 'Blanc de Blanc'. Purple and white verbascums
surge between them and balls of clipped evergreens in informal groups add a
different note, reinstating a sense of structure while also undermining the
original fearful symmetry.
The herbaceous border
The prime showcase of the gardener's art throughout the 20th
century has gone through a sea-change over the past 15 years, as naturalistic
planting styles have become more popular.
At a garden such as Cottesbrooke in Northamptonshire, the
main double border exhibits none of the "pictorial" qualities of the
classic Arts and Crafts border, with a beginning, middle and end, and perhaps
even a clear development in terms of colour. Instead, James Alexander-Sinclair
offers a more immersive experience, with multiple repeat plantings of tall
perennials including sanguisorba and white corncockles threading through. Tom
Stuart-Smith aims for something similar in his gardens, such as Mount St John
in Yorkshire, or the revamped Trentham in Staffordshire, where favoured plants
include thalictrum, phlomis, eremurus, eupatorium and veronicastrum (you know
you are in a modern garden if you spy lots of these). He likes to think of his
gardens as a continuum, surging and receding like music.
The rock garden
The rock garden has fallen from favour in recent years. The
idea of a mountainside in suburbia evidently proved too kitschy even for
English sensibilities. But there is life in alpine or rock gardening because
the plants are so beautiful.
Keith Wiley was the moving spirit behind the acclaimed
Garden House at Buckland Monachorum in Devon for many years, and in 2004 began
his own garden, Wildside, just down the lane. His energy and ambition are
extraordinary, the new garden consisting of several acres which he first
reformed by extensive use of a mini-digger, very much in the mountain-moving
spirit of Edwardian rock gardening.
The resultant ridges, berms and pool areas create a good
habitat for many of his favourite plants, which he has arrayed naturalistically
in swathes and large unruly groupings. Troops of kniphofias, crocosmia and
agapanthus provide a flavour of the Cape while erythroniums, asters and
eragrostis grasses drift on through unhindered. Rock on, Keith!
Kitchen Garden
Growing "edibles" (as young gardeners now like to
dub vegetables) is all the rage of course, but at larger properties it is now
all but impossible for owners to keep a garden in High Victorian style. There
are a handful of astonishing exceptions, notably West Dean in Sussex, but many
owners choose to update the look of the traditional walled garden. One fine
example is Daylesford Manor in Gloucestershire, where Rupert Golby's floral
interventions, jaunty topiaries and clever fruit supports in woven hazel and
willow create an atmosphere of fun-loving fecundity. This is a large scale
kitchen garden which nevertheless feels like a garden in its own right, not a
service area.
Piet Oudolf pushes the idea even farther at Scampston Hall
in Yorkshire, where he has turned the old walled garden into a compartmented
extravaganza, with his trademark perennials-and-grasses plantings at the heart
of it all. Flower colour is by no means anathema in old kitchen gardens, of
course, since up to a quarter of the space would traditionally have been used
for growing flowers for the house.
'The New English Garden' by Tim Richardson (Frances Lincoln,
£40), is available from Telegraph Books (0844 871 1514) at £36 + £1.35 p&p.
Monday, 28 October 2013
3D representation of 17th century London before The Great Fire. Pudding Lane Productions, Crytek Off The Map
8 mei 2013
"We are six students from De Montfort University taking
part in the Crytek Off the Map project, building a 3D representation of 17th
century London before The Great Fire.
For more information on our whole project, including concepts and processes please visit our team blog;"
http://puddinglanedmuga.blogspot.co.uk/
For more information on our whole project, including concepts and processes please visit our team blog;"
http://puddinglanedmuga.blogspot.co.uk/
Thursday, 24 October 2013
The return of the regimental watch straps ... and more. Smart Turnout.
Mencyclopaedia: Smart Turnout
How guardsman, Philip Turner,
earned his stripes in fashion.
BY LUKE LEITCH | 07 DECEMBER 2012 / http://fashion.telegraph.co.uk/news-features/TMG9727814/Mencyclopaedia-Smart-Turnout.html
Following a nine-year stint in bearskin and scarlet, Philip
Turner left the Scots Guards in 1996 - only to find his campaign to gain
stimulating civilian employment a troublesome one. "I did do a bit in
marketing, and found out a little about how businesses should be run. But it
was difficult - very frustrating. A lot of us have the same experience."
Happily, Turner's soldiering days had already provided the
catalyst for future fulfilment. While serving, he represented the regiment in
the Grand Military Gold Cup at Sandown, and came up with the idea of having
some racing colours rustled up for the race. His fellow officers fancied them,
too, so Turner went back to the rustler-upper and had some jumpers made:
"I sold them around the regiment
In 1999, Turner remembered their enthusiasm, and decided to
try to expand the idea into a business. He found a British manufacturer,
contacted regiments, schools and universities to propose that he produce items
in their colours, then from his bedroom established a modest website to sell
them. "The alumni merchandise was very weak in this country compared to
America. At the beginning it was all word of mouth: for instance, a friend who
taught at Radley put me in touch with the right people there."
For a while the business, Smart Turnout, tootled along,
selling cufflinks, ties and jumpers as well as some clever military-style
striped nylon watch straps Turner had dreamt up, based on ceremonial braces. In
2008, American GQ featured the watchstraps in its pages, and suddenly Turner's
customer base rocketed. Each month the website now sells around 1,000 straps
featuring the colours of institutions such as the Household Division, the Royal
Marines, or even Vanderbilt University to men in the US, Japan, Korea and
beyond. There are some very attractive wallets, scarves, belts, polo shirts,
pyjamas, knitwear and jackets for those who wish to fly their favoured colours
even more prominently. There are even Bradfield boxer shorts (very brown: not
so nice) and some grey trunks with Nato-flash elasticated waistbands.
Smart Turnout has now expanded well beyond its original
remit. Successful non-alumni items, including its "SMART" jumper
(recently worn by a member of One Direction) and some extremely well designed,
Grantham-made backpacks and briefcases (my favourite of all Turner's range),
suggest that this business has the momentum to expand from bedroom start-up
into bona fide up-and-coming brand. It has just opened its first
bricks-and-mortar shop, in the Prince's Arcade on Piccadilly.
There is, though, a nagging etiquette-based conundrum
lurking beneath Smart Turnout's spit and polish: is it ever strictly pukka to
wear unearned stripes? Is Turner enabling any on-the-make charlatan to sport a
pair of pink-flashed Westminster socks? Personally, I would happily inhabit
Smart Turnout's natty Royal Artillery jumper (featuring a zig-zag burgundy
stripe across the chest of a navy crew-neck), were it not for the uncomfortable
prospect of running into a burly artillery man keen to discuss Multiple Launch
Rocket Systems.
Turner is admirably upfront about the point, cheerfully
conceding that there aren't many British military veterans in Japan - Smart
Turnout's second-biggest market - but pointing to a) the "spirit of
affinity" that draws men to his products, and ruefully observing that b)
many of the colours Smart Turnout features come from regiments long disbanded
by cut-happy governments. We live in a world saturated by meaningless branding
and trumped up logos: but the colours flown by Smart Turnout are the real
thing, and the story behind it is real, too. Well worth your attention.
Poirot: The End is Near (trailer) / Agatha Christie's Poirot: The Big Four broadcasts Wednesday 23 October at 8pm on ITV
Poirot: The End is Near (trailer)
Four upcoming films will mark the end of Agatha Christie’s Poirot, and see David Suchet reprise his iconic role as the world famous Belgian detective for the very last time.
The Big Four forms part of the thirteenth and final series, which includes Dead Man’s Folly, The Labours of Hercules and Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case. Elephants Can Remember was the first film from this final series to be broadcast in June and attracted a consolidated audience of 5.7 million viewers and a 23% share.
David Suchet has worn the moustachioed Belgian sleuth's polished spats very successfully since 1988 when he accepted the role. His first film, The Adventure of the Clapham Cook, was broadcast on January 8 1989.
Agatha Christie's Poirot: The Big Four broadcasts Wednesday 23 October at 8pm on ITV
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
Breathless ITV
Secrets, lies and passion smoulder beneath the glamorous and
stylish world of the early 1960s, in the brand new drama Breathless.
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Is that Don Draper? - No, it's Jack Davenport as Dr Otto
Powell in Breathless. Photograph: ITV
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Breathless; Trust Me I'm a Doctor – TV review
Yes, it's the 60s,
and there's smoking, sex and even a Don Draper type – but don't call it the
British Mad Men
Sam Wollaston
The Guardian, Friday 11 October 2013 / http://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2013/oct/11/breathless-tv-review
I saw the WikiLeaks movie, The Fifth Estate, the other
night. Benedict Cumberbatch is fantastic but the film isn't, for several
reasons, one of which is that it doesn't really work visually. It's a problem
with a lot of drama about the 21st century. People now spend their entire lives
staring into screens and communicating via text. Looking at a screen of people
looking into screens isn't a very fulfilling experience. You have to go back to
the 20th century to find people actually talking to each other, having
old-fashioned touchy sex not Skype sex, expressing emotions not emoticons, and
anger in a way that isn't snapping shut a laptop. It's maybe why there's so
much period drama about.
In Breathless, ITV's latest period piece, we're in London in
1961. Of course, being about the 60s it's already been called the British Mad
Men (as The Hour was, and that wasn't even set in the 60s). Med Men might be
better, given it's a hospital drama. And Dr Otto Powell (Jack Davenport) is the
Don Draper character – you know, suave, smoking (in every sense), Brylcreemed
etc. He just has to walk into a room, and women spread their legs. Well, he is
a gynaecologist.
Not just a devilish cad though, Dr Otto is also an unlikely
champion of choice and performs abortions (still illegal) on the sly.
"Otto, is that you, I've been such a silly muffin," he's greeted by a
silly aristocratic muffin (scone?) with a extra unwanted bun you know where.
He's kinda Don Draper meets Vera Drake, then.
There's no such complexity from Dr Powell's doctor
colleagues. All male, of course, and all randy as Jack Russells; after a brisk,
rude group round of the wards, they're all off doing their damnedest to hop on
and off the nurses like they're the Routemasters plying Piccadilly. I say, are
you headed for Eros, room for one more on top, eh?
So 1961 doesn't look very jolly for a woman. The music may
be getting a little better, the dresses too. And this so-called sexual
revolution is gaining some momentum. Who's it for, though? Maybe the pill,
which was around then, I believe, wasn't in general circulation yet. Because if
you join in the revolution, chances are you're going to get knocked up by some
twit. And if you don't get to Dr Otto (who's the one you really want to be
with) in time, you're going to have to spend the rest of your life in the
twit's kitchen. Quite a cool, 60s kitchen, admittedly, possibly even with a few
new electric appliances about the place depending on the salary of your twit –
but he's still a twit, and his kitchen's still a kitchen.
Breathless is good at that; the 60s kitchens, the dresses,
the Brylcreem and the buses, the Austins and the Morrises, the drink-driving.
Also at the paradoxes of the age – the looking both forwards and backwards, the
rampant sex and rampant sexism, the shiny new NHS and the lingering stuffiness
etc. It looks great, and it captures an age, a fascinating one – key elements
in any period drama. Plus there are no screens or texting. You can forget the
modern world for an hour (except that you're probably tweeting along).
But then Downton Abbey does all that too, and Downton is
posh froth. What's beneath the gloss of Breathless? I'm talking about the drama
part of period drama – its ability to get a hold of you so you become
emotionally tangled up, go on thinking about it and the characters, new people
in your life, after the credits roll. And I'm not getting that. Perhaps it
doesn't matter – you can admire the shine, without worrying about what is – or
isn't – underneath. Just don't go calling it the British Mad Men.
Trust Me I'm a Doctor (BBC2) is brilliant; I learned so many
interesting things. Like BMI – the fat thing not the regional airline – is
rubbish. OK, not rubbish, but it can be misleading, as an indicator of health;
you can be fat and fit. I can be fat and fit. I also don't need to drink two
litres of water a day. Yay, water's boring.
I'm a bit confused about whether I should take a quarter of
an aspirin a day: it seems to depend on which distinguished expert you listen
to. I'm certainly going to wash my hands a lot more often and a lot more
thoroughly because a third of us have faeces on them … NO! I don't, you do, go
away. And I'm going to bed early, because sleep deprivation is linked to all
sorts of horrible and life-shortening ailments. Put another way, Newsnight
gives you cancer.
Breathless is so much more than a Mad Men rip-off
EVERYONE has been
banging on – well, OK, not everyone, but quite a few people – about ITV’s new
60s drama Breathless, and how it’s allegedly ripping off the cult US series Mad
Men.
By Mike Ward
Published 10th October 2013 / http://www.dailystar.co.uk/columnists/mike-ward/344281/Breathless-is-so-much-more-than-a-Mad-Men-rip-off
Take it from me, these people are all idiots. And it's OK
for me to say that because I was initially one of them.
Being quite a shallow human being, I took one look at the
distinctive 60s style of the whole thing – the fashions, the cars, the home
furnishings, the music, the opening titles, the fact that everyone was smoking
their tar-caked little lungs out – and thought, yeah, d’you know what, I’m
going to slag this series off as a Mad Men rip-off, I bet no other TV critic
will think of that, aren’t I jolly clever and original and perceptive, huh?
But now that I’ve watched episode one again, properly this
time – followed by previews of episodes two, three and four – I realise just what
an ignorant ninny I was being. Breathless is, in fact, superb.
All right, so the influences from that American series are
fairly transparent, but is that really such a big deal? Pretty much every show
on television borrows ideas from other programmes, a huge proportion of them
from America (Ricky Gervais’ comedies, for example, and Jonathan Ross’s chat
shows, are massively influenced by their US counterparts).
Sod originality. What really matters is the substance. If
superficial 60s snazziness were all Breathless had to offer us, the whole thing
would have disintegrated within the first 20 minutes of episode one, like one
of those tragic Bake Off trifles where the custard refuses to set.
Instead, it had me hooked. Britain was such a different
place in 1961, the year the story gets underway, that the characters in
Breathless, working in the gynaecological department of a leading London
hospital, are having to deal with situations that seem fascinatingly alien to
us.
Women weren’t allowed the new contraceptive pill, for
example, unless they were married. And only then with their husband’s
permission. Also, abortion was still illegal, which meant reluctantly pregnant
women would resort to terrifying backstreet terminations, carrying all sorts of
appalling risks.
The abortion thing is key here, because Jack Davenport’s
character, charismatic surgeon Otto Powell, offers these desperate women a
better alternative – still wholly illegal, and enough to get him struck off and
banged up if word ever got out, but carried out safely, sensitively and
responsibly.
It was when he defended his actions in episode one to nurse
Angela Wilson (Catherine Steadman), who’d unwittingly found herself in
attendance at one of these so-called “specials” of his – that we sensed there
may be more to this guy than we’d initially given him credit for.
He insisted he was helping these people out of a nightmare
they shouldn’t be forced to suffer – and he sounded very much as though he
meant it.
“The law,” he told her, rejecting her protests “makes
miserable lives and miserable women.”
So, OK, maybe he’s not just a rich, suave, self-satisfied
womaniser after all. Otto may be smitten by nurse Angela (so am I, but that’s
another story). And the more she rejects his advances – possibly because Otto
sounds like a name better suited to a Labrador – the more he relishes the
chase. In that sense, he seems just your average adulterous slimeball.
But the marriage that Otto is putting at risk, we’ll come to
realise, isn’t quite right. Not so much in the sense that it’s a miserable one,
more that it’s an act of some sort, an arrangement he and his wife Elizabeth
have both agreed to, for reasons we’ve yet to figure out. And beneath their
trappings of wealth and suburban respectability, they’re nursing a significant
secret.
Elsewhere, we’ve just witnessed ninnyish junior consultant
Dr Richard Truscott (Oliver Chris) marry pregnant ex-nurse Jean Meecher (Zoe
Boyle). Jean has actually lost the baby on the morning of the wedding, but has
insisted on going ahead with the ceremony – and not telling the groom about the
miscarriage, terrified he’ll call the whole thing off. Will he eventually find
out in any case? If so, will he go ballistic?
Richard and Jean’s is a relationship already weighed down
with a whole heap of 60s issues. A working-class lass wedding a posh chap. A
bride walking down the aisle when she’s supposedly up the duff. A nurse being
forced to quit work because that’s what the rules used to demand if you got
hitched to a doctor. All wrapped up in one merry little marital package.
Not so much another age as another planet. I shan’t go into
any more detail about Breathless for now, just in case I give away some vital
plot twist (you know, like I stupidly did when I mentioned the Martian invasion
in next week’s Downton).
Suffice to say this is another cracking ITV drama – as
gritty as it is stylish. And rest assured, the best is yet to come.
Review: Breathless – Series 1 Episode 2 – ITV
By Lina Talbot
Arts
Last updated: Wednesday, 16 October 2013 / http://blogs.independent.co.uk/2013/10/17/review-breathless-%E2%80%93-series-1-episode-2-itv/
Spoiler Alert: This review assumes you have already watched
episode 2 of ‘Breathless’.
Female viewers must be feeling relieved after every episode
of Breathless because things are different now. The control exerted by social
codes and above all, by male authority over women, tied them down to being
little more than kitchen maids and baby makers. Male viewers I hope will agree
with Mr Powell, the debonair doctor with a dark past, that to keep women this
miserable makes no sense.
For women to become properly liberated after the Second
World War took a strangely long time. Men must have been very afraid, perhaps
more so in the upper echelons where a certain family life needed to be on
display. As the Powells’ marriage with one sprog and one housemaid demonstrates
– concealing beneath it some terrible truth.
Natasha Little gives the most plausible performance as the
fearful yet restrained Mrs Powell, whether supporting her husband and son or
confronting Iain Glen’s sinister Chief Inspector Mulligan. It’s enjoyable
stuff, so I am not going to “Wiki” what British commandos were doing in Cyprus
in ’53 and spoil the mystery.
The other main characters have a touch of caricature about
them. Even Jack Davenport as Powell overdoes the jolly father role. He also
overplays his perplexity in the presence of Nurse Wilson (Catherine Steadman)
after some very minor encounters. Perhaps she represents the future and the
challenge facing these Sixties social paragons, but I may be over-interpreting.
The Enderbys (Shaun Dingwall and Joanna Page) are most
watchable in their struggle to achieve higher status, though sadly they have a
sexual problem to solve too. Baby making in these days is certainly fraught
with difficulties. Happily, pills for some women’s problems are now available
if you know the right chap, which former Nurse Meecher, now Mrs Jean Truscott
(Zoe Boyle), does. As a modern girl struggling with Sixties society, she is not
telling her husband and - clap on the
back for the man – neither is Powell. Or is he being all things to all people?
So the sexual charade of the Sixties continues, this time
with Pippa Haywood popping up as the cheated on wife whom her husband wishes to
quieten with a dose of Librium. He warns Mr Truscott (Oliver Chris), who
hesitates to prescribe this: “We can go and see the top man.” Later his wife
holds a scalpel over his mistress’s head as a different sort of warning –
presumably the only justice available for the wronged woman. Of course her
mention of Holloway immediately recalls Haywood’s recent outing in Prisoners’
Wives.
Then there is the romantic subplot. Mmm. It is silly… but
despite that charming, as the nervous Powell waits amongst the plebs in a
street cafe for the object of his desire. He is now aware of Wilson’s
background and her actions in helping Miss Mulligan (Holli Dempsey) escape
marriage. He doesn’t yet know that she is Jean’s sister, nor that Mulligan has
him by the goolies.
Once again the scenes are lovely to behold. In the
Truscotts’ new flat, for example, the camera beautifully presents both its
décor and its metaphorical meaning as the cage for the new wife. Indeed the
formidable exterior has the look of Wormwood Scrubs. The Sixties’ hospital ward
rounds become comic parades, the private consultation almost an assignation.
I bet the writer and director Paul Unwin is having a ball.
He has built up considerable expertise with medical drama, having co-created
Casualty and worked on Holby City. Most recently he was lead director on the US
network series Combat Hospital. No doubt he realised that people who watch
medical drama are more interested in the social milieu of the protagonists, and
this time he focuses on the milieu.
Though the dialogue still bothers me. It’s too unnatural –
comic book even – I presume Unwin intends to mimic Sixties TV shows in the
mould of Danger Man and The Avengers. With such a visual feast, a terse
dialogue may be a blessing, providing the bon mots keep coming. This week
Matron (Diane Fletcher) offers her reactionary guideline for women: “we need to
be tamed.” OK, the blame does not lie entirely with the men then.
Monday, 21 October 2013
The Return of the Espadrilles / Alpargatas ...
http://www.wisegeek.com/what-are-espadrilles.htm
Espadrilles are sandals made of canvas, with soles of
varying heights decorated with rope. The sandals were first made over 600 years
ago in Catalonia, but the name itself is French. It can get confusing, though,
if you look for espadrilles in Canada, since this is the normal Quebec term for
running or jogging shoes. The French name for the sandal comes from the Catalan
word, espardenya, which referred to a tough grass used for weaving the ropes
that form the bottom of the shoes. Today’s espadrilles may no longer use
espardenya, and rope styling on the bottom may be glued to wooden, plastic, or
rubber soles.
The early espadrilles were peasant made and worn by
peasants. A small amount of canvas combined with a rope-work bottom was much
cheaper than leather. Many featured a lace up component to keep the sandals
firmly attached to the feet.
If we jump forward to modern days, espadrilles are popular
summer sandals, mostly made for women in many countries. They’re particularly
associated with casual summer wear, clothing for cruise ships, and for women
who want a dressier but still comfortable sandal look in hot weather. Designers
make a number of styles, which can get uncomfortable if the heel is very high,
but there are many non-brand name espadrilles that are cheaply made and
purchased.
The soles of modern espadrilles are usually wedges, with a
gradual incline of the heel. You can find flat espadrilles or platform styles,
too. Many are slip on or slide versions, but still others may feature ankle
straps to keep the foot more secure. Though many of the variants, especially of
less expensive brands, feature synthetic roping around the heels, a popular
feature is the use of jute, a natural fiber, to make the roping. Jute
espadrilles with cotton canvas tops are made in great number in Bangladesh
where they may be exported to Europe and the US.
When jute is used, gluing the jute rope to the shoe sole can
actually be a laborious process. They may be not only glued but also stitched,
and many feature extra designs in the rope weave to provide a fancier shoe.
Despite the more labor-intensive work required in the manufacture of
espadrilles, they are often less expensive than other summer sandals, unless
you want espadrilles with a designer name. Then, expense is approximately equal
to other designer sandals.
Espadrilles / Alpargatas are normally casual flat, but sometimes high heeled shoes originating from the Pyrenees. They usually have a canvas or cotton fabric upper and a flexible sole made of rope or rubber material moulded to look like rope. The jute rope sole is the defining characteristic of an espadrille; the uppers vary widely in style. In Quebec, however, espadrille is the usual term for running shoes or sneakers.
The term espadrille is French and derives from the word in
Occitan language, which comes from espardenya, in Catalan or espardeña in
Spanish. In Catalan it meant a type of shoes made with espart, the Catalan name
for esparto, a tough, wiry Mediterranean grass used in making rope
Espadrilles have been made in Pyrennean Catalonia and
Occitania since the 14th century at least, and there are shops in the Basque
country still in existence that have been making espadrilles for over a
century. The oldest, most primitive form of espadrilles go as far back as 4000
years ago. Traditional espadrilles have a canvas upper with the toe and vamp
cut in one piece, and seamed to the rope sole at the sides. Often they would
have laces at the throat that would be wrapped around the ankle to hold the
shoes securely in place. Traditional espadrilles are worn by both men and women.
Once peasant footwear, espadrilles have grown in popularity,
especially in Catalonia and the Basque Country, where many men and women wear
them during the spring and summer months. Designer espadrilles are now widely
available. They are usually manufactured in Spain and South Asia. Modern
espadrilles are predominantly for women, though some men's shoes are made in
this style.
The soles of espadrilles may be flat, platform or wedge
shaped, and can be made of natural fiber or synthetic fiber rope, or flexible
synthetic materials cast to resemble rope. Uppers may be made from nearly any
substance, and may have open or closed toes, open or closed backs, and can be
slip-on or tied to the ankle with laces. Thousands of varieties of espadrilles
can be found, from inexpensive bargain brands to high priced designer brands.
Espadrilles became fashionable in USA in the 1940s. Lauren
Bacall's character in the 1948 movie Key Largo wore ankle-laced espadrilles.
The style was revived in the 1980s, due to the success of Miami Vice—the shoe
was worn by Sonny Crockett (Don Johnson). In 2013 at luxury shoe stores in New
York City, a pair of espadrilles can cost nearly $500.
Only second to cotton in favor as a natural fiber, jute is
increasingly used in the manufacture of espadrilles. The soles of espadrilles
are now commonly made with jute rope or braid, which is favored because of its
eco-friendliness compared to synthetic substances. The natural bright white
color of jute is a major design feature of modern espadrilles.
Bangladesh is the producer of high quality jute, and has become
a manufacturing centre for premium quality jute soles and complete espadrilles.
Ninety percent of the world's total production of complete espadrilles, as well
as jute soles, is now manufactured in Bangladesh, although some manufacturers
in Spain, France, and Italy import jute soles from Bangladesh to finish
espadrilles in those countries. Complete espadrilles are also manufactured in
Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Paraguay and Venezuela.
Jute soles typically include fully or partially vulcanized rubber
beneath the jute fibre for long-lasting espadrille shoes. Sometimes crepe soles
are used as out-soles. Jute braid soles might include heels made of wood or EVA
foam.
The manufacture of espadrilles is generally more complex than
that of sandals. The jute soles are the most critical part. The jute twines are
first machine-braided. These braids are then manually formed into the shape of
the sole and hydraulically pressed with heat to form the final shape, and
completed with vertical stitching. These basic soles are then vulcanized underneath.
EVA foam or wooden heels are glued in place and more jute braids are wrapped
around it to complete the soles. Uppers of different styles are then built on
the jute soles to complete the espadrille. Most traditional espadrilles made by
hand come from La Rioja, Spain. They are widely distributed in France and
Canada.
Assembling of a jute sole
Saturday, 19 October 2013
Nostalgia for the future, waiting for the Past ?
Nostalgia
for the future, waiting for the Past ?
“Tweedland”
publishes two films (only in Dutch
/sorry about that) … illustrating “radicals”
in “Vintage Culture” or “Creative Nostalgia”.
The
dialectical processes of History are mysterious and somehow the “avant garde”
transforms itself in “something else”… but one thing is definitively clear … In
these times of crisis and mass production, there is a search for a lost quality
in human behavior and environment. “Human ecology” ?
Yours
Jeeves.
Wednesday, 16 October 2013
P.G.C. Hajenius Rokin 96 Amsterdam
 |
P.G.C. Hajenius
Rokin 96
1012 KZ Amsterdam
The Netherlands
Tel.: 020-623 74 94
Fax: 020-638 72 21
E- mailadres: info@hajenius.com
Opening times:
Monday 12.00 am - 6.00 pm
Tuesday 9.30 am - 6.00 pm
Wednesday 9.30 am - 6.00 pm
Thursday 9.30 am - 6.00 pm
Friday 9.30 am - 6.00 pm
Saturday 9.30 am - 6.00 pm
Sunday 12.00 am - 5.00 pm
|
Since 1915 Amsterdam's Rokin boulevard has been the home of one of Europe's most famous cigar houses: the House of Hajenius.
The Van Gendt brothers' design incorporated familiar shapes
and occasional references to 17th and 18th century architectural styles. The
Hajenius building was constructed using a concrete skeleton structure that was
particular innovative for the time. The facade was made up of two separate
sections – a wide left-hand portion mirroring the store entrance in the
centre and a narrow right-hand portion with an entrance to the offices above.
The facade was clad in the same expensive Oberkirchen sandstone as the Maison
de Bonneterie. The lower wall beneath the storefront was made from granite. The
building had a high storefront extending from the ground floor to the first
floor that formed a plinth for the three pilastered upper storeys. A royal coat
of arms was hewn into the sandstone above the store's regal entrance with the
words 'P.G.C. Hajenius' and the year '1914'. The familiar name of the building,
De Rijnstroom, was placed above the entrance to the upper storeys.
The Van Gendt Brothers' Art Deco Store Interior
The oak entranceway was fitted with heavy doors and copper
hardware. This led into a large rectangular-shaped room with counters on both
sides made of Italian marble. Two huge brass chandeliers that had been removed
from the store on Dam Square were suspended from the ornately decorated
coffered ceiling. The walls were clad in various types of marble and open
mahogany cabinets displayed not only boxes of cigars, but also 19th-century,
wooden pipe tobacco boxes and decorative delftware pots. Hardstone floors with
mosaic patterning were later hidden away under carpeting due to wear and tear.
The Van Gendt brothers used exclusively natural products for the interior such
as wood, marble and hardwood. No paints or related products could be used
inside this exclusive cigar store because cigars were particularly susceptible
to absorbing odours from their surroundings. For quite some time, two
traditionally crafted wooden cigar cases formed the showpieces in the centre of
the store. The cases displayed a Corona and a figurado of the same make, the
Corriente del Rhin, named after the three Hajenius buildings, De Rijnstroom.
PGC Hajenius (1806-'89)
However the history of Hajenius begins in 1826, when the
nineteen-year old Pantaleon Gerhard Coenraad Hajenius left the fortified town
of Doesburg for Amsterdam. And Hajenius had a dream: to open a store that
offered customers only the very best cigars. Young Hajenius was evidently a
born businessman, since he established his new store in the Hotel Rijnstroom on
the Vijgendam - and a location more suited to the achievement of his dream was
virtually inconceivable.
His new store was located amongst a prosperous clientele,
and just a stone's throw from the Tobacco Exchange - as well as some thirty
small cigar factories, where he had the best cigar makers use the choicest
tobaccos to make his Hajenius cigars for him. His store was an immediate
success: leading citizens soon made their way to his store, rapidly joined by
prominent industrialists - and even Royalty. The market for his cigars soon
extended far beyond the national borders. His store rapidly became too small,
and he moved to a new location on the Dam.
His fame continued to grow through the years; Hajenius
acquired its reputation as a renowned cigar house, with a continually
increasing number of customers. Once again, the store became too small, and a
new location was required; a location possessing a status compatible with the
prestige of the now universally-acclaimed House of Hajenius. The need for a new
location resulted in the construction of an elegant store on the Rokin, built
in German sandstone, which was once again christened 'Rijnstroom '. It has
since transpired that this third relocation in 1915 was to be the last: the House
of Hajenius is still located on the Rokin, in premises where nothing would seem
to have changed.
The De Heerenkamer, which translates as the Gentlemen's Room, was the area in which regular customers were welcomed to discuss their cigar orders for the year ahead. This room has retained much of its original to this day. Two portraits of Pantaleon Hajenius' successors, Hendrik Willem Nijman and son Neander Nijman, can be found here. Many a deep and meaningful discussion has been held at the antique meeting table. Courses are regularly held here about how to become an expert cigar smoker.
