قصة صور وقديمه غير مفهومه

    • قصة صور وقديمه غير مفهومه

      سلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته


      قصه غريبه مافهمة منها إي شيء عن عيسى وحروب ووووواغيره


      قصه قديمه بس في بعض الصور خلابه يمنع نشرها:)




      بداية القصه
      1-

      4-

      5-

      8-

      11-

      14-

      20-

      21-

      22-

      30-

      31-


      35



      37



      40-



      I was admiring this painting Deang Buasan of Thailand and realised I liked it so much because it reminds me of Edmund Dulac’s illustrations.
      Deang and his disparately minded fellow artists Thaweesak Srithongdee and Chakkrit Chimnok had a show in Bangkok recently that had been previewed last year at the Fukuoka Asian Art Triennale in Japan. If you look up “FT3D” on the Web you might find more.
      Deang’s brother drowned when they were children, so there’s always a water element in his paintings, as well as evident grief. In Fukuoka he showed a painting of himself as a child gazing at a lifeless dummy on the floor, seedpods strung between them as if they were both drifting in water.
      “Lotus under the Moonlight” – designed, like all of his two-dimensional work, from a 3D model – does wonderful things with reflections and angles, illusion and visual effects in every corner, including beneath the water’s surface.
      Compare it to Dulac’s illustration here for “The Voyage of the Basset”, written by James C Christensen with Renwick St James and Alan Dean Foster. This wasn’t anywhere near the best work by Dulac but, as we’ll see when we get to sizing up different people’s water nymphs, he was a marine genius.
      Edmund was born Edmond in Toulouse, France, in 1882 and raised for the bar, but instead of going into law, he raised the bar in illustrating books, and “Golden Age” children’s books in particular.
      When I was a kid we had a massive edition of “The Snow Queen and Other Stories from Hans Andersen”, which had originally come out in 1911, and as I grew older Dulac’s pictures (this one from “The Nightingale”) scared the hell out of me, then fascinated me, then charmed me, then … well, some of the mermaids are kinda hot.
      Dulac chucked law school in favour of the Ecole des Beaux Arts and started collecting prizes for his watercolours, then in 1904 – freshly divorced from an American woman 13 years his senior – shipped off to London.
      A year later, in “Rip Van Winkle”, Arthur Rackham became the first to use a new process, now called colour separation, to mass-produce his illustrations. It was a huge success, Rackham ingeniously capturing the quirks of Washington Irving’s characters (see the story and pictures here), and the colours were beautifully faithful to his original paintings thanks to being printed on sheets of specially coated paper that had to be “tipped-in” to the book rather than bound in with the rest of the pages.
      These pages were forever falling out of our Hans Andersen book and threatening to migrate with the wind that was so vigorously illustrated on many of them. Below is another memorable image from that tome, illustrating “The Garden of Paradise”.
      The new process also meant that the illustrations didn’t require heavy ink lines to hold the coloured washes in place – the lines covered up ovelaps in the colours – and Dulac’s work was perfectly suited to it. He was hired to do 60 illustrations for “Jane Eyre” and other works by the Bronte sisters, and was soon contributing to Pall Mall magazine alongside Rackham, to whom he would forever more be compared. They both have their argumentative devotees.
      Rackham’s “Rip” and equally popular “Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” a year later were published by Hodder & Stoughton, and when Rackham jumped to another house, Hodder jumped on Dulac to illustrate “The Arabian Nights”.
      In an arrangement that would remain in place for years, the paintings were commissioned by the Leicester Gallery, Hodder got the reproduction rights and put out the book, and then the gallery sold Dulac’s paintings. Shown here, “The Princess and the Pea”. There was something new every year, perfect for collectors: “Shakespeare’s The Tempest”, “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam”, “The Sleeping Beauty and Other Fairy Tale”, “The Bells and Other Poems by Edgar Allan Poe” …
      In 1913, two years after remarrying (Elsa Arnalice Bignardi, who was shy despite being Italian-German, and evidently not much fun intellectually, so Edmund would later complain), Dulac discovered the Far East, about the same time as our post-impressionist friends, and showed it off to the rest of the West with “Sinbad the Sailor and Other Stories from the Arabian Nights” the following year.
      During the Great War he did a lot of fund-raising with illustrations for “King Albert’s Book”, “Princess Mary’s Gift Book” and “Edmund Dulac’s Picture Book” for the French Red Cross, but by the time his “Tanglewood Tales” came out just after the armistice, nobody was much interested in these sort of gift books anymore. New techniques in printing had enabled photography to take hold, and rather than his illustrations, it was Dulac, all of 35, who was in a bind.
      Portraits and his caricatures for the weekly newspaper The Outlook paid the bills, but only just. He illustrated the 1920 history “The Kingdom of the Pearl” and got into product design (he was the master of postage stamps for a while) and, for his friends WB Yeats and Sir Thomas Beecham he did theatre design.
      In 1923 Dulac and Elsa separated and soon after his friend Helen de Vere Beauclerk moved in with him. She stayed with him for the rest of his life. Third time lucky.
      This is one of three illustrations in this post from “The Snow Queen and Other Stories from Hans Andersen”.
      Yeats dedicated his 1933 poem “The Winding Stair” to Dulac, and four years later Dulac returned the favour by composing the music that accompanied readings of Yeats’ pieces on BBC radio.
      Unfortunately it was a mess and the two had a row, but it was resolved, and after World War II, when Yeats’ body was moved from France home to Ireland, Dulac designed a memorial for the poet’s former grave in Roquebrune.
      Through the ’40s he did loads of drawings for Hearst’s American Weekly. He also managed to remain the busiest of book illustrators, when the jobs appeared. He did “Treasure Island”, “The Golden Cockerel” and was working on “Comus” when a third heart attack killed him on May 25, 1953, at the age of 70. It was published posthumously.
      I was talking about mermaids, and look what’s there was when Dulac wasn’t around to help.
      Two by Rackham:

      Below left, John William Waterhouse’s “A Mermaid” from 1900, and on the right, an artist best left unidentified but, you know, typical.



      Edmund Dulac, who possibly belonged underwater.
      @
      @
      سلام عليكم جميعاً|a أنا تركت هذا المنتدى كان عندي عمل والله مو مني شخصياً فأرجو منكم تذكري بالطيب وإن كانت غلطت على أحد فالعذر و السموحة فأنا فترت قصيرة وأرجع إلى العمل في خلال تقريباً أسبوع ولي عوده قريباً أنشاء الله :) وتمنى لكم التوفيق

    • دار راسي ماعرفت وين البداية ولا النهاية ولا هي مامرتبة خخ
      الثقة يــآ صــآحبــي غير الغرورٍ بـس أنآ مغروره من بــآب الثقةٍ
      الصف الأول مآهو بــصفي ولآ الصف الأخيرٍ
      أنــآ وين مآاوقف يبتدي الطآبوور
      ـ،ـ لَسعَـة شَقآآوَة ـ،ـ