On Christmas Day

It rained quite heavily yesterday on Christmas eve, melting the existing snow on the ground.

Why do I always feel that this long-anticipated day of the year flees without impression?

Christmas Day was magical once. I was young back then.

Perhaps a simple act of decorating a Christmas tree, thus having the ability to celebrate, constitutes Christmas. Or is it just an anticipation?

Elgin National Watch Co.

"The screws in a watch number forty-four, or more than one-quarter Of all its pieces. The Screw and Steel Department is one of the largest in the factory. Its magical little automata, run by nimble-fingered girls, convert shining steel wire into infinitesimal screws, pare down their heads, and cut slots in them for microscopic screwdrivers. They are polished to perfect smoothness, and then, like every other part of the watch, brought to "spring temper"-the temper of the sword-blade-by beating, which leaves them of a rich, deep blue..."

(From Making Watches By Machinery by Albert D. Richardson, Harper's Magazine, July 1869)

The Page in Progress...

Antique Grandfather Clocks

An English Grandfather Clock (Paul Rimbault, 1773, London)

Grandfather Clocks at the Metropolitan Museum of Art
(By Wynlok, Flickr)

A Grandfather Clock at Rosehill House, Coalbrookdale, England
(By Elliott Brown)

(By Dan Brady)

(By Duncan McNeil)

I love antique grandfather clocks.

Grandfather clocks, also called longcase or tall-case clocks, emerged in the 18th century with the invention of the anchor escapement around 1670. The verge escapement, which was widely in use for clock movements that were made before, required very wide pendulum swings to run; therefore, longer pendulums such as the ones found in grandfather clocks were not practical before the 18th century.

The clock consists of the hood, which houses the movement (mechanism) of the clock, the waist, which houses the pendulum, and the base.

To me, unlike today's grandfather clocks, antique clocks seem to possess certain elegance and humaine texture. Many old grandfather clocks have painted dials, and almost all of them have cases that are fully enclosed without having any glass openings. Some cases feature exotic wood veneers and beautiful craftmanship, while others were made simply with English Oak or mahogany. It seems English made many grandfather clocks during the 18th and 19th century, and the dials of these clocks bear their origins, such as London or Cockermouth.


As a child, I really enjoyed reading a collection of fairytale stories. In one of the stories (by Grimm, I later found out), a wolf attacked a house full of young lambs and ate them while their mother was away. The youngest, however, escaped by hiding inside of a grandfather clock. It was so impressionable that I wanted to hide inside if I found one.

The first time I had personally encountered such an old grandfather clock was back when I visited my mother's workplace about a year ago. It was there, a remarkably beautiful old clock that did not work, standing quietly at a lobby. It was from Dartington, England, and its metal dial was one of its fine features. I was rather surprised at the pendulum, which looked so simple, and the weights, which looked rather earthy. When I swinged the pendulum, the clock's second hand turned second by second as it completed one swing.

It made a sound, a sound that resembled a heartbeat. For how many years did it make that same sound?

I look forward to having an old grandfather clock as my lifelong companion.

Saint-Saëns and the Knabe Piano

Camille Saint-Saëns, Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images

Yesterday I found the following journal article published in December 29th, 1906 by The Music Trade Review (MTR):

"Never before has dignified advertising played such a prominent role in the marketing of the piano and in this the year of 1906 must be set down as unique.

There has perhaps never been a more satisfactory tour than the one which was closed on Thursday when Saint-Saëns, the most distinguished composer of the day, left for his home in Paris. This tour was only one of the gigantic strides made by Wm. Knabe & Co., and will go far toward the artistic exploitation of a piano which is able to stand upon its own merits and to substantiate the most extravagant statements that can be made in its behalf. The letter of Dr. Saint-Saëns is one of those rare tributes to the Knabe piano which is priceless because it carries the true expression not only of one who understands every grade and quality of tone, but whose entire life has been one of frankness and sincerity almost to the point of rudeness."


Camille Saint-Saëns, born in Paris on October 9, 1835, was a musical prodigy who gave a public performance when he was only five years of age. He is best remembered for his musical suite The Carnival of the Animals (Le Carnaval des Animaux).

Coincidentally, Saint-Saëns visited the United States for the first time in 1906. The article above implies that Saint-Saëns, even then a greatly respected and discerning European composer and pianist, gave a recommendation letter to Wm. Knabe & Co.

Yet in 1908, just two years after the article's publication, Wm. Knabe & Co. and Chickering & Sons were dissolved and incorporated into American Piano Co., marking the demise of these venerated century-old piano makers. Perhaps the general taste of music and the status of piano were changing; however, I wonder how the demise occurred in such a short span of time.

The article's extravagant language is quite amusing. It somehow reminds me of the Hindenburg disaster broadcast.


Reference: Edward Lyman Bill, "In the Musical World." The Music Trade Review 43.26 (1906): 16

Korea's First Piano

Gwanghwamun Gate (광화문; 光化門), Seoul, around 1890s

King Gojong (고종; 高宗) of the Joseon Dynasty,
Later the Gwangmu Emperor (광무제; 光武帝) of the Korean Empire

The date as to when the piano was first imported to Korea is yet to be found; however, a newspaper article that records the first two pianos ever imported to Korea survives.

Traditional Korea, isolated and suspicious towards westerners, was only exposed to European culture in the late 19th century, and Korean royal family was usually the first to receive cultural artifacts from Europe. Therefore not surprisingly, the two pianos mentioned in the article belonged to King Gojong.

The article, published by Maeil Sinbo (매일신보; 每日申報) in January 26th, 1918, is as follows:

"[왕세자 전하께서는] 음악에 취미가 특별히 깊으시와 이번 경성에 건너오신 뒤에도 태왕 전하께서 그 말을 들으시고 왕세자 전하의 어리셨을 때에 가지고 노시던 피아노 두 채 를 함녕전으로부터 석조전에 옮기게 하시고 그동안 병이 난(고장 난) 것을 악기 점원이 밤을 새워가면서 급히 고쳐서…."

Trans: "[The Crown Prince] was very deeply involved with music; hence during his visit to Seoul, Your Majesty heard the news and ordered two pianos once toyed by the Crown Prince to be moved from Hamnyeongjeon to Seokjojeon, while an instrument clerk spent a night quickly repairing ill parts of pianos caused by long storage..."

(Note: Hamnyeongjeon and Seokjojeon are buildings located at Deoksugung Palace, Seoul)

Since the Crown Prince Yeongchinwang (영친왕; 英親王) was forced to study in Tokyo in 1907, the article suggests that the pianos were imported at least before 1907.


King Gojong later donated one of the pianos to a church located in Pyongyang. But Korea split up into North and South Korea shortly after its independence from Japanese rule in August 15th, 1945, and the piano fell under North Korea's possession.

In 1990s, North Korea sold some of its historic artifacts, including this piano, to the Chinese after experiencing a devastating femine. South Korea, in order to protect these cultural artifacts, recovered and imported them safely back to South Korea in 1997. However, the piano is still not released to the eyes of public as of today.

A mystery in history is always fascinating. I am very curious as to how the piano looks like.

Marie Antoinette's Breguet Pocket Watch

Breguet No. 1160, a Recreation of Breguet No. 160 "Marie Antoinette"
(Photo By Mike Disher)

Abraham Louis Breguet was a brilliant 19th-century clock/watchmaker and a horologist who established his successful career in Paris. His contributions to horology include Breguet balance spring, Breguet hands, the pare-chute (the anti-shock device for the balance pivots), and the tourbillon.

Breguet also had many eminent clients, including Napoleon Bonaparte, Caroline Napoleon the Queen of Naples, Czar Alexander I of Russia, King Louis XVI of France, and Queen Marie Antoinette.

Marie Antoinette already had Breguet's perpétuelles at the time of Breguet No. 160's commission, and was deeply captivated by it. In 1783, a man, who was possibly Marie Antoinette's lover, commissioned Breguet to make the most complicated watch ever created for the queen without a limit to its cost. The queen never knew about the watch or saw it completed, for she was later guillotined during the French Revolution.

Although Breguet had ties with the French royalty, he survived the French Revolution by temporarily fleeing to Switzerland, and after the revolution he continued making watches for clients, including Bonapartes. He also continued making Marie Antoinette's watch until his death in 1823. The watch, a masterpiece, was completed in 1827, four years after Breguet's death and 44 years after the commission.

The Page in Progress...

Nara's Historic Grand Piano

Nara Women's University (奈良女子大学), Nara
(By OhMyDeer, Wikipedia)

University's Yamaha Grand Piano (Serial #1749; 1909)




In 1909, just one year after its founding, this ornate Yamaha grand piano was bought by Nara Women's University (then called Nara Joshi Koto Shihan Gakko; 奈良女子高等師範学校) for its use. After many years of use and the World War II, the piano was locked away and forgotten in a storage building for decades until it was discovered in June, 2005.

Nippon Gakki Company (日本楽器製造株式会社; now called Yamaha Corporation) was founded by Torakusu Yamaha (山葉寅楠) in 1887, and it produced its first grand piano in 1902. The grand piano in Nara Women's University was made just seven years after the company's first production.

The piano itself has 85 keys, which is less than 88 keys that the modern grand pianos have. According to historic records the piano was purchased by a man named Fumi Rokurou Naitou (内藤文六郎), who paid 1000 yen, which was an extraordinary sum at the time. (For a comparison, a new government official (college graduate) then received 55 yen per month)

Having seen so many mechanical and plastic looking Yamaha pianos, I feel rather amazed that Yamaha produced such a beautiful piano back in 1909.

The First Day, Fall Semeter

Today was marked by numerous yet vivid dreams.



In a first dream, I dreamed that I was going to a war. I was to drive a small airplane, and I was shaken with a fear of dying. Actually, I was rather more afraid of dying by an explosion/crash involving fire. My father bought me a single fish for preparation, which outrageously costed $3000.

In a second dream, I dreamed that I was in Paris. To ecape people who were chasing me without a reason, I escaped the Paris Opera by getting into a secret wooden elevator, which went down and somehow connected to a dazzling, marble-floored shopping mall. After existing the mall, I saw the city. The city was almost surreal and futuristic, with deep dark blue skies, brilliant signs, and imposing buildings. Notre Dame looked beautiful. It was winter.

In a third dream, I dreamed that I was in some kind of a fantasy card contest. I became the last one to survive and to finish.



Between these dreams, I found myself in classrooms, listening to the first lectures of the semester. I took two naps between lectures, for I was tired from driving yesterday, and each time I woke up with my dream still lingering in my memory.


Sometimes I wish I could live in a dream and see the end.

Modern Boy (2008)

I just watched this movie, Modern Boy (모던보이), which was released in October, 2008, in Korea. When I first saw the movie's poster/trailer, I was intrigued most by the movie's historic setting (Seoul in 1937) and wanted to watch it since then.

The movie, directed by Jiwoo Jeong (정지우) and based on an award-winning Korean novel 망하거나 죽지 않고 살 수 있겠니 (Trans: Can You Live and Not Be Destroyed or Dead), portrays a love story between two unlikely lovers, who live during one of the most turbulent and uncertain times in Korean history. It moreover notably recreates the city scenes of colonial Seoul (then called Gyeongseong; 경성) in a scale that was not attempted before. The two lovers are played by a famous actor named Heil Park (박해일) and an actress named Hyesoo Kim (김혜수).

Jiwoo Jeong, in my opinion, did a good job in capturing the atmosphere marked by hidden ironies and contradictions present in Korea during that time. I particularly loved the scene where the couple slowly travels on a street car while the darkness ominously engulfs all around it. The movie starts with a comical twist but becomes very serious in the end.

Perhaps this was to be expected and appropriate.

My Historic Architecture Project

Recently I began to pursue an unique project: recreating Seoul's lost and often neglected architectural history. I chose my medium to be... Legos. :)

The picture above is a postcard dating back to 1920s, showing Seoul during the colonial/modernization period. The first building pictured is today's old Seoul Station (서울역), while the second building is Seoul Central Post Office (서울중앙우체국), which was called before the liberation of Korea from Japanese rule as Keijo Post Office (경성우편국; 京城郵便局). Seoul Station is one of few buildings that survive to this day, while the post office was sadly lost by air raids during the Korean War.

These eclectic western-style buildings were built in the first half of the 20th century to reflect progress and often awe the traditional Korean public by the Japanese. Many Japanese were living in Seoul during the colonial period, and these buildings were meant to serve their needs; this was a time when Korean was forbidden and the Japanese government worked hard to "eradicate" Korean culture.

Perhaps not surprisingly, these colonial yet historic buildings did not survive more than a century; often they were either destroyed during the Korean War or demolished in order to make way for new modern development projects. Most notable demolition happened in 1995, when the former Japanese General Government Building was symbolically demolished in order to restore Gyeongbokgung Palace to its former form. (An irony here is that the Japanese Government building itself was built by the Japanese after systemically demolishing Gyeongbokgung Palace, a symbol of Korea's traditional royal authority)

However, the Korean public today is beginning to realize the historic and cultural importance of buildings created during this painful period. Even the most painful and bitter history is still history worth preserving, and often these buildings served for many decades after Korea's liberation, thus making them endearing to Koreans as well. Many are now active in preserving these historic buildings for future generations, because this act is more meaningful than destroying these buildings and thus losing all memories attached to them.



I loved to play with Legos when I was a child, but stopped playing as I grew older. Recently, though, I rediscovered childish joy (and perhaps nostalgia) of making things when I assembled my Cafe Corner and Eiffel Tower.

Lego Group supplies a freely-downloadable program called Lego Digital Designer (LDD). It allows me to design a virtual Lego building without that much of brick constraints and to even purchase my creations online.

The screenshots of my models of the old Seoul Station and Seoul Central Post Office are shown above. Neither of these models are currently finished because my laptop (MacBook) does not let me to add more by freezing and showing error messages. I think this is due to my laptop's inherent weak graphic card. :(

Still, I had a wonderful time designing and assembling my models. It was a tedious and tiresome process, for I had to constantly compare my collected photos of these buildings with my models and rethink ways of assembling Legos; but in the end, I am quite satisfied with my creations. Now I can actually see these buildings in three dimensions instead of just two with my computer, and can even dream of owning one.

This project is still not finished, and I probably will continue with a different computer in the future. :)

Legos are just amazing in their flexibility. I love them.

St. John the Baptist's Enigma

Leonardo da Vinci painted his last (known) painting, St. John the Baptist, around 1513 to 1516. Just three years later, he died in Cloux, France, while this painting still under his possession.

How St. John the Baptist is unconventionally conveyed by Leonardo, with his ambiguous gesture towards heaven, is a mystery that perplexed many art critics and scholars for centuries. The fact that the painting is Leonardo's last only deepens this mystery.

Traditionally before Leonardo, St. John the Baptist was often portrayed as a tough, determined and bearded (therefore masculine, crude) man who was fit for wilderness and desert. However, Leonardo chose to paint him as a strikingly young, handsome, and delicately featured man who simply gestures towards heaven, almost in a manner of Greek (pagan) mythological figures. His elegant curly hair graces his head, and a deep, featureless shadow is all around him, enhancing the chiaroscuro effect that the master is so famous for.

Why did Leonardo choose to portray St. John in this way?

Many generally believe that the man in the portrait is modeled after Gian Giacomo Caprotti da Oreno, Leonardo's pupil. His nickname was Salai (Trans: The Little Unclean One).

I think that perhaps Leonardo, who by then was an old (and probably retrospective) man, wanted to portray a saint full of youth and mischievousness. Maybe Leonardo himself was longing for his younger years of his life.

The baptism also symbolizes the new life, the birth, in Christianity; does it not fitting, then, that St. John, the giver of life, would have to be young?

Tartini and the Devil's Trill

The Lucifer of Liège (Le génie du mal) by Guillaume Geefs; Picture by Luc Viatour







The Devil's Trill Sonata (Il Trillo Del Diavolo), also known as the Violin Sonata in G minor, is a composition for solo violin by an Italian composer and violinist named Giuseppe Tartini (1692~1770), who was said to be inspired to write it after he met the Devil in his dream.

According to the interview accounts by a French astronomer and writer Jérôme Lalande, Tartini dreamed in 1713 that the Devil stood next to his bed and tried to possess his soul by making a compact. To challange the Devil, Tartini handed out his violin to the Devil and asked him to play it. Surprisingly, the Devil immediately played an exquisitely beautiful and ethereal music with such a great skill that Tartini listened with utter astonishment and shock.

When he woke up, Tartini instantly began to write down the Devil's Trill Sonata from his dream, trying to recapture the Devil's music. However, despite the sonata's reception and success, Tartini lamented that his music was very inferior to what he had heard.

He even writes, "The sonata I composed at that time was certainly my best, and I still call it the Devil’s Sonata, but this composition is so far beneath the one I heard in my dream, that I would have broken my violin and given up music altogether, had I been able to live without it."

The sonata itself is infamous for its technical difficulty.

Although the sonata is called the Devil's Sonata, it is very beautiful. I can only imagine the real music behind Tartini's dream and inspiration...

A Dream

I had a strange dream today. It was so impressionable that I can still vaguely remember and write...

I remember seeing a hauntingly beautiful yet somewhat strange starry night with a person that I know (I cannot remember who it was). There was the constellation Orion, brightly burning.

Then the sky developed a dark hole and I was somehow (quickly) sucked right into this hole; the sky was like a vacumn cleaner, and I was helpless against it. I was so terrified that I woke up, shaking, with a sensation of being lifted still lingering.

Is there a meaning behind this dream? Why was I so afraid?


I wonder if my dream can be called a nightmare.

My Favorite: Casa Batlló

By Caribb, Flickr

By MorBCN, Flickr

By guercio, Flickr

By (Erik), Flickr

Casa Batlló, one of Antoni Gaudí's most beautiful masterpieces, is located at Passeig de Gràcia of the Eixample District in Barcelona. The Eixample literally means "extension" in Catalan, and the district was constructed accordingly between the 19th and 20th century.

Locally also known as Casa dels ossos (House of... Bones), Casa Batlló was actually already built in 1877 in a conventional style; Antoni Gaudí only "remodeled" the building during the years 1905 to 1907. At the time, Barcelona was expanding rapidly and emerged as the largest city of Spain, and its economic prosperity brought the cultural movement known as the Catalan Renaissance or Renaixença.

The building's stunning architectural details show Gaudí's creative and deeply individualistic style, and some parts of the building (like the corridor shown) are very modern in design. It seems to me that Santiago Calatrava (another Spanish but contemporary architect) is inspired by Casa Batlló.

Gaudí certainly was aware of Art Nouveau and was deeply influenced by Eugène Viollet-le-Duc's writings and by his architectural visions regarding Gothic architecture. The building features organic motifs, including a colorful roof that resembles dragon's spine and skin and windows flanked by skeleton-like columns.

It is one of my favorite buildings by Gaudí. I am always stunned at how he used so many colors to decorate this building while not making it look kitsch.

The Finished Café Corner

Today I finally opened the box and spent a whole day assembling this set. It took almost eight hours to assemble, but I could not take my hands off until I finished.

I was quite impressed by sheer creativity permeating through its overall design. The treatment of corner walls and decorations of the building is utterly brilliant, and its dormer windows, its "Hotel" sign, and its entrance are also beautifully designed. Although I have played with Legos since childhood, there were some parts and colors that I was not familiar with.

Overall, I am glad that I bought this gorgeous set. It looks like a doll house. :)

Hmm... I now wish I had the Green Grocer...

I Had to Buy the Café Corner...

I brought home this precious thing from a Lego store yesterday, after years of longing.

The Café Corner is probably one of the most beautiful set that Lego has ever produced. It was expensive for my small student budget, but I was awed so much that I could not help myself but to buy it.

(Simply in Korean-> 어쩔 수 없이 질러버렸음;;; ㅠㅠ;;)

I still can't bring myself to open the box, for then I can't get a refund for the item.

At least I had a courage to pay... :)

Gustave Doré and His Engravings

Paul Gustave Doré (1832~1883) was a prolific French artist and famed book illustrator who produced numerous wood and steel engravings during his lifetime.

His illustrations are utterly wonderful.

Orreries

Engraving from The Universal Magazine (1749)
Showing John Rowley's Orrery

Grand Orrery (Picture by Marcin Wichary)

Thomas Heath's Grand Orrery, c. 1740 (Adler Planetarium)

Engraving Showing the Heliocentric Universe from Harmonia Macrocosmica (1661)

The orrery is a mechanical machine designed to precisely imitate the movements of planets, and is usually driven by a clock. The origin of its unusal name is a British nobleman named Charles Boyle, 4th Earl of Orrery, who supported a clockmaker named George Graham to build such machine in the 18th century.

Such mechanical devices must have symbolized revolutionary ideas that captivated Europeans during the Enlightenment. There is an irresistible charm behind an idea that the universe follows certain logical and mathematical laws, and orreries, or cosmic clockworks, are rather well-suited to beautifully convey such an idea. Orreries, moreover, were designed to describe the heliocentric system, an idea that was revolutionary and controversial in its own right at the time.

The heliocentric system forever removed the Earth from the center of the universe. Perhaps it was the first step that stripped the humanity of its sense of self sanctity...


I have a weak spot for orreries. I want one.

D'espairsRay: Redeemer

Aa... Screaming out your brief existence... to where? To heaven?

The recent music by D'espairsRay is too optimistic. But still... I adore its spirit.

The uncertain and intangible future awaits, while the familiar past is simply fading away.

Callous.

I wish to get a Flying V. Someday. Sigh.

Stradivarius and Piano Collection in the Palacio Real de Madrid

The Palacio Real de Madrid
(By Kaunokainen, Flickr ID)

Grand Piano
(Original Picture by Jorge Louzao Penalva)

Stradivarius Cello
(By Terence Wei)

Stradivarius Violin
(By Giant Ginkgo, Flickr ID)

El Palacio Real de Madrid, located in Madrid the capital city and once the residence of the King of Spain, is notable for its royal art collections and its immense scale. The current building was constructed between 1738 to 1755 by the orders of Philip V of Spain, and Italian architects Filippo Juvarra, Giovanni Battista Sacchetti, and Francesco Sabatini were mainly responsible for its Baroque design.

Antonio Stradivari, an Italian luthier who was born in 1644 and died in 1737, arguably crafted the most beautifully sounding string instruments of all time, and an instrument by him is known as a "Stradivarius."

The royal collections of the palace include the World's only complete set of Stradivarius instruments, which consists of two violins, a viola, and two cellos (One of the two cellos, pictured above, is an extra guarded by the palace, dated around 1700). This collection is named as "del Cuarteto Real" (meaning the Royal Quartet), or "los Stradivarius Palatinos." These rare instruments were acquired by Charles (Carlos) IV of Spain in 1775.

The grand piano shown is also a part of the palace's royal collection, but sadly I could not find much more about it other than that it was probably manufactured by Collard & Collard of London. It certainly is very beautiful, worthy of royalty.

I would love to try one of these priceless instruments.

Anamorphosis and Renaissance Art

The Ambassadors by Holbein the Younger, 1533

King Edward VI by William Scrots, 1546

Vexierbild by Erhand Schon, 1535

Anamorphosis is a technique that involves an unusual projection of the image to a plane, causing the viewer to only grasp the image's true or hidden form when viewed it at a certain and specific perspective or by using a deformed mirror. It seems during the Renaissance, anamorphosis provided another way to fascinate and amuse the royalty, scholars, and aristocrats alike. :)

The earliest known experimentation of anamorphosis was done by Leonardo da Vinci, who sketched an anamorphic image of an eye around 1485. This sketch is known as "Leonardo's Eye."

The Page in Progress...

Jan Vermeer and Maps

The Painter (self-portrait) and His Model as Klio

The Officer and Laughing Girl


Jan Vermeer was a 17th-century Dutch painter who painted mostly paintings depicting domestic scenes and seemingly confined spaces with great care and, in my opinion, dreamily touch. His works, rare and surprisingly unnoticed for centuries after his death, were rediscovered by the art critic Thoré Bürger in 1866; today, Vermeer is one of the most celebrated painters of the 17th-century Netherlands.

Interestingly, he also painted many maps, which are executed with surprising detail.

Because the maps in the paintings were created with their west direction facing up, they can be quite puzzling to the modern eye when initially viewed. Two of the maps present in the paintings shown portray the Netherlands, and when the maps are rotated so that their north direction is facing up, they are more recognizable. The map in the painting the Officer and Laughing Girl is rotated as an example.

According to the paper titled Vermeer's Maps: A New Digital Look in an Old Master's Mirror, maps or cartographs were expensive yet popular in the 17th century Netherlands because they were viewed as indications of humanistic learning and scholarly interest in geography. The particular map in the painting the Officer and Laughing Girl is identified to be made in 1620 by Balthasar Floriszoon van Berckenrode, and the title of the map reads, "NOVA ET ACCVRATA TOTIVS HOLLANDIAE WESTFRISIAEQ.(VE) TOPOGRAPHIA," meaning New and Accurate Description of the Topography of the Whole Holland and of West Friesland.

Vermeer lived when the Dutch traders dominated the European sea trade and brought great prosperity to the Netherlands. Probably he was keenly aware of how the maps contributed and played very important role for his nation.


Reference: Livieratos, Evangelos, and Koussoulakou, Alexandra. "Vermeer's Maps: A New Digital Look in an Old Master's Mirror." e-Perimetron, Vol 1, No. 2, Spring 2006