Watch All of the Commercials That David Lynch Has Directed: A Big 30-Minute Compilation

Some film­mak­ers start in com­mer­cials, hon­ing their chops in antic­i­pa­tion of mak­ing per­son­al projects lat­er. A select few go in the oth­er direc­tion, real­iz­ing their dis­tinc­tive vision before field­ing offers from com­pa­nies who want a piece of that vision’s cul­tur­al cur­ren­cy. Any­one who’s seen David Lynch’s most acclaimed work will sus­pect, cor­rect­ly, that Lynch belongs in the lat­ter group. With 1977’s cult hit Eraser­head, he showed cin­e­ma what it means to be Lynchi­an. This brought him the atten­tion of Hol­ly­wood, lead­ing to the respectable suc­cess of The Ele­phant Man and the dis­as­ter that was Dune. Only in 1986, with Blue Vel­vet, could Lynch make a tru­ly, even trou­bling­ly per­son­al film that hit the zeit­geist at just the right moment.

Nat­u­ral­ly, Madi­son Avenue came call­ing soon there­after. “With the smash Blue Vel­vet, a Palme d’or at Cannes for Wild at Heart, and then the nation­al phe­nom­e­non of Twin Peaks’ first sea­son, David Lynch clear­ly estab­lished him­self as the U.S.A.‘s fore­most com­mer­cial­ly viable avant-garde-‘offbeat’ direc­tor,” wrote David Fos­ter Wal­lace in a 1997 piece on the film­mak­er.

“For a while there it looked like he might be able to sin­gle-hand­ed­ly bro­ker a new mar­riage between art and com­merce in U.S. movies, open­ing for­mu­la-frozen Hol­ly­wood to some of the eccen­tric­i­ty and vig­or of art film.” Lynch’s fans in tele­vi­sion adver­tis­ing must have imag­ined that he could do the same for their indus­try, and you can watch the fruits of that hunch in the half-hour com­pi­la­tion of Lynch-direct­ed com­mer­cials above.

Lynch has worked for some star­tling­ly big brands, begin­ning with Calvin Klein: his trio of spots for the fra­grance Obses­sion take as their basis the writ­ing of F. Scott Fitzger­ald, Ernest Hem­ing­way, and D.H. Lawrence. A few years lat­er he direct­ed a humor­ous mini-sea­son of Twin Peaks to pro­mote Geor­gia Cof­fee, one of the top brands of canned cof­fee in the Lynch-lov­ing coun­try of Japan. The New York Depart­ment of San­i­ta­tion engaged Lynch’s ser­vices to imbue their anti-lit­ter­ing cam­paign with his sig­na­ture high-con­trast omi­nous­ness, a mood also sought by fash­ion-indus­try titans like Armani, Yves Saint Lau­rent, Guc­ci, and Dior. The mar­keters of hum­bler goods like Alka-Seltzer, Bar­il­la Pas­ta (a seem­ing­ly auteur-aware brand that has also hired Wim Wen­ders and Felli­ni), and Clear Blue Easy home preg­nan­cy tests have also gone in for a touch of the Lynchi­an.

Quite a few of these com­mer­cials orig­i­nal­ly aired only out­side Amer­i­ca, which may reflect the sup­pos­ed­ly more endur­ing appre­ci­a­tion of Lynch’s work that exists in Europe and Asia. But for all Lynch’s artis­tic dar­ing, the man him­self has always come off as an enthu­si­ast of unre­con­struct­ed Amer­i­can plea­sures. To this day he remains a stead­fast smok­er, and in 1998 brought that per­son­al cred­i­bil­i­ty to the Swiss cig­a­rette brand Parisi­enne. The result­ing spot fea­tures men in ties, show­ers of sparks, dead fish, back­wards talk­ing, a for­bid­ding­ly illu­mi­nat­ed shack, and apoc­a­lyp­tic flames: Parisi­enne, in oth­er words, must have got exact­ly what they paid for.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What Makes a David Lynch Film Lynchi­an: A Video Essay

David Lynch Made a Dis­turb­ing Web Sit­com Called “Rab­bits”: It’s Now Used by Psy­chol­o­gists to Induce a Sense of Exis­ten­tial Cri­sis in Research Sub­jects

The Sur­re­al Film­mak­ing of David Lynch Explained in 9 Video Essays

Wim Wen­ders Cre­ates Ads to Sell Beer (Stel­la Artois), Pas­ta (Bar­il­la), and More Beer (Car­ling)

Spike Jonze’s Imag­i­na­tive TV Ads

Fellini’s Fan­tas­tic TV Com­mer­cials

Ing­mar Bergman’s 1950s Soap Com­mer­cials Wash Away the Exis­ten­tial Despair

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Hear the First Recorded Blues Song by an African American Singer: Mamie Smith’s “Crazy Blues” (1920)

His­to­ri­an John Hope Franklin once described the decades from the end of slav­ery through the advent of Jim Crow as “The Long Dark Night” because of the leg­isla­tive chi­canery and extreme vio­lence used to dis­en­fran­chise and dis­pos­sess African Amer­i­cans after the fail­ure of Recon­struc­tion. It is dur­ing these years that the blues emerged from the rur­al South into the cities, and the age of the “race record” brought black music into pop­u­lar cul­ture in ways that irrev­o­ca­bly defined what the coun­try sound­ed like.

The source of the blues, writ broad­ly, is the suf­fer­ings and striv­ings of those anony­mous rur­al folk who trans­mit­ted their expe­ri­ences through song, “whether in the cot­ton fields or in lum­ber camps, on the lev­ees or in the shacks of field hands or house­maids,” as Dave Oliphant writes in Tex­an Jazz. But when it comes to nam­ing ear­ly sources, the waters get murky. Jazz writer Ted Gioia refers to the peri­od before the mid-1920’s as “the Dark Age of myth and leg­end” in blues his­to­ry for its pauci­ty of writ­ten detail.

We do know that blues songs gained much pop­u­lar­i­ty through­out the first two decades of the 20th cen­tu­ry, many of them penned and pub­lished by Mem­phis com­pos­er and “father of the blues,” W.C. Handy. These blues were first com­mod­i­fied and record­ed in the 1910s for white audi­ences by white vaude­ville singers like Nora Bayes and Mar­i­on Har­ris. It wasn’t until 1920 that a blues record by a black singer was record­ed and released, “and in a sense it was hap­pen­stance,” says Angela Davis in the NPR seg­ment below.

“Ear­li­er in the year,” Davis explains, “[Ukran­ian-born singer] Sophie Tuck­er had been sched­uled for a record­ing ses­sion but became ill and [blues song­writer] Per­ry Brad­ford man­aged to per­suade Okeh Records to allow Mamie Smith to do the record­ing ses­sion instead.” And so we have at the top what Gioia calls the “break­through event” of Smith’s “Crazy Blues,” record­ed on August 10, 1920, sig­nif­i­cant because “the first record­ing com­pa­nies were reluc­tant to pro­mote black music of any sort,” and then only when it was per­formed by white enter­tain­ers.

In the decade of “Crazy Blues,” that changed dra­mat­i­cal­ly, as record com­pa­nies real­ized a huge untapped mar­ket of tal­ent and poten­tial buy­ers in the work­ing-class black com­mu­ni­ty. “Crazy Blues” was a hit, sell­ing 75,000 copies in its first month. This release and sub­se­quent record­ings by Mamie Smith even­tu­al­ly “led the way,” says Davis, “for the pro­fes­sion­al­iza­tion of black music for the black enter­tain­ment indus­try and indeed for the immense pop­u­lar­i­ty of black music today.” Though not strict­ly a tra­di­tion­al blues, as Oliphant and Gioia both note, the song, and Smith, estab­lished an endur­ing tem­plate.

Mamie Smith had been a vaude­ville per­former, work­ing since child­hood as “an all around enter­tain­er,” as the Library of Congress’s Michael Taft remarks on NPR. The Blues Ency­clo­pe­dia points out that her the­atri­cal back­ground and flam­boy­ant per­son­al­i­ty lent much to the “the arche­typ­al ‘Queen of the Blues’ per­sona” inhab­it­ed by so many lat­er singers. She was, we might say, the first in a long, dis­tin­guished line of songstress­es, from Bessie Smith to Bey­on­cé, who deliv­ered music of hard­ship and strug­gle with glam­or, glitz, and swag­ger.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Women of the Blues: Hear a Playlist of Great Blues Singers, from Bessie Smith & Etta James, to Bil­lie Hol­i­day & Janis Joplin

Women of Jazz: Stream a Playlist of 91 Record­ings by Great Female Jazz Musi­cians

Stream 35 Hours of Clas­sic Blues, Folk, & Blue­grass Record­ings from Smith­son­ian Folk­ways: 837 Tracks Fea­tur­ing Lead Bel­ly, Woody Guthrie & More

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

What It Would Look Like If Wes Anderson, Quentin Tarantino & Other Directors Filmed Cooking Videos

I usu­al­ly chafe when direc­tor Wes Ander­son is labelled “twee,” but as an enthu­si­as­tic, sticky-fin­gered gob­bler of bark and ash encrust­ed camp­fire s’mores, I did enjoy a rather row­dy laugh at his expense while watch­ing the above video.

Each entry in film­mak­er David Ma’s #Food­Films series starts with a hypoth­e­sis that pairs a sim­ple, famil­iar dish with a direc­tor whose visu­al style is well estab­lished.

What if Wes Ander­son made S’mores? 

Ma’s ear­ly mar­i­na­tion in the realms of food styling and adver­tis­ing is a recipe for suc­cess here.

Anderson’s beloved God shot has become a sta­ple of online cook­ing videos, but Ma’s atten­tion to sub­tler details would pass muster with a Cor­don Bleu chef.

The for­mal­ly engraved card! The rib­bon motif! The cos­tumes!

The look is more Grand Budapest Hotel than the camp-themed Moon­rise King­dom, but no mat­ter. That more obvi­ous pair­ing start­ed tast­ing a tad over-chewed around the time of the Moon­rise King­dom-inspired wed­ding pho­to shoot.

Ma’s homage to Quentin Taran­ti­no is a butch and bloody take on spaghet­ti and meat­balls.

To para­phrase Jean-Luc Godard, “It’s not blood. It’s red sauce.

The sound­track sug­gests that Ma’s ear is just as keen as his eye.

45 sec­onds in, there’s a Part 2, as an extra treat for QT fans.

Big bud­get action king Michael Bay and a Grav­i­ty-cen­tric Alfon­so Cuarón round out #Food­Films’ four-course tast­ing menu.

How­ev­er sat­is­fied view­ers may feel with these hijinks, their appetite for the project is far from sati­at­ed. Sequel requests are pil­ing up:

What if Kubrick made Toast?

What if Tim Bur­ton made a grilled cheese sand­wich?

What if Woody Allen made piz­za?

What if Steven Spiel­berg made cup­cakes?

What if Kuro­sawa made scram­bled eggs?

What if Guy Ritchie did a Full Eng­lish Fry-Up?

Gives me a han­ker­ing to see what Sofia Cop­po­la would do with my grandmother’s favorite lay­ered Jell‑o sal­ad.

While we’re wait­ing for Ma to serve up his next dish we can tide our­selves over with some of his oth­er high­ly styl­ized recipe videos, like the Incred­i­ble Hulk’s Smashed Pota­toes.

Read­ers, what direc­tor-dish pair­ing would you order up? Let us know in the com­ments.

via W Mag­a­zine

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Pow­er of Food in Quentin Tarantino’s Films

For­rest Gump Direct­ed by Wes Ander­son: Here’s What It Would Look Like

A Com­plete Col­lec­tion of Wes Ander­son Video Essays

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Monty Python Philosophy Football Match: The Ancient Greeks Versus the Germans

Today, as the 2018 World Cup draws to a close, we’re revis­it­ing a clas­sic Mon­ty Python skit. The scene is the 1972 Munich Olympics. The event is a football/soccer match, pit­ting Ger­man philoso­phers against Greek philoso­phers. On the one side, the Ger­mans — Hegel, Niet­zsche, Kant, Marx and, um, Franz Beck­en­bauer. On the oth­er side, Archimedes, Socrates, Pla­to and the rest of the gang. The ref­er­ee? Con­fu­cius. Of course.

Note: Some years ago, this match was recre­at­ed by The Phi­los­o­phy Shop, a group ded­i­cat­ed to pro­mot­ing phi­los­o­phy among pri­ma­ry school­child­ren. The Tele­graph gives you more details.

Enjoy.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mon­ty Python’s Best Phi­los­o­phy Sketch­es

Noam Chom­sky Slams Žižek and Lacan: Emp­ty ‘Pos­tur­ing’

Free Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

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Watch “The Hangman,” a Classic Animated Film That Explores What Happens When No One Dares to Stand Up to Evil

Last Fri­day, I was down­town at an open air cin­e­ma to watch a col­lec­tion of ani­mat­ed shorts. It was also a beast­ly hot night with roar­ing sun­down­ers, a very present dan­ger of being clocked in the head by falling palm fronds, and an exis­ten­tial dan­ger of fire in the hills. The oth­er exis­ten­tial dan­ger was that of the author­i­tar­i­an turn of this coun­try that, at that moment, seemed so far away from our pic­nic bas­kets and wine in a can.

In the mid­dle of the pro­gram of well made but light and fluffy shorts came the above ani­mat­ed film, “The Hang­man.” The ver­sion above is not the restored ver­sion we saw, but it’s pret­ty much the same, give or take a scratch. Les Gold­man and Paul Julian’s 1964 short deliv­ers a moral mes­sage along the same lines as anti-Nazi pas­tor Mar­tin Niemöller’s “First they came for the Social­ists” statement–currently a meme you’ve prob­a­bly seen pass through your social feed. And though the nar­ra­tive, based on the poem by Mau­rice Ogden, is easy to suss out as it trun­dled towards its mor­tal con­clu­sion, it did not stop the fact that the ram­bunc­tious Fri­day night audi­ence fell dead silent upon its con­clu­sion. You may too.

The poem first appeared in a 1954 issue of Mass­es and Main­stream, a month­ly Marx­ist pub­li­ca­tion that con­tin­ued pub­lish­ing through the worst excess­es of the McCarthy hear­ings to an under­stand­ably van­ish­ing read­er­ship. The poem has occa­sion­al­ly been taught in the con­text of the Holo­caust, but any kind of creep­ing fas­cism will do. Not much is real­ly known about Ogden, who wrote the poem under the pseu­do­nym Jack Denoya in its orig­i­nal pub­li­ca­tion. (He is pos­si­bly the same man who taught at Coast Com­mu­ni­ty Col­lege in Cos­ta Mesa, CA, and min­is­tered at Orange Coast Uni­tar­i­an Uni­ver­sal­ist Church.)

The ani­mat­ed ver­sion, with its mod­ernist look influ­enced by UPA’s ani­ma­tion stu­dio, came out one year after Mass­es and Main­stream fold­ed. Dur­ing that Fri­day night view­ing, I sus­pect­ed the nar­ra­tor to be Ken Nor­dine, who record­ed a vocal jazz album around that time. But actu­al­ly the voice belongs to Her­schel Bernar­di, a film and the­ater actor who would have been known to Broad­way fans for his star­ring role in Fid­dler on the Roof but to tele­vi­sion fans as Char­lie Tuna in the Stark­ist com­mer­cials. Before all that, how­ev­er, he was a vic­tim of the Hol­ly­wood black­list, which made him a per­fect choice to nar­rate “The Hang­man.”

Direc­tor Paul Julian illus­trat­ed much of the back­ground art used in Warn­er Bros. car­toons, and his claim to pop cul­ture fame is pro­vid­ing the “beep beep” sound for the Road Run­ner car­toons by the same stu­dio. Pro­duc­er Les Gold­man went on to pro­duce sev­er­al oth­er influ­en­tial ani­mat­ed shorts, such as “The Dot and the Line” and “The Phan­tom Toll­booth.”

How­ev­er, “The Hang­man” is seri­ous food for thought in these fraught times, and it’s good to see it back in cir­cu­la­tion, thanks to cura­tor Ron Dia­mond. Here’s to hop­ing his­to­ry doesn’t repeat itself.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch a Sur­re­al 1953 Ani­ma­tion of Edgar Allan Poe’s “Tell-Tale Heart,” Vot­ed the 24th Best Car­toon of All Time

A Short Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Karl Marx

The Best Ani­mat­ed Films of All Time, Accord­ing to Ter­ry Gilliam

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the artist inter­view-based FunkZone Pod­cast and is the pro­duc­er of KCR­W’s Curi­ous Coast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills, read his oth­er arts writ­ing at tedmills.com and/or watch his films here.

French Bookstore Blends Real People’s Faces with Book Cover Art

You can lead the I‑generation to a book­store, but can you make them read?

Per­haps, espe­cial­ly if the vol­ume has an eye-catch­ing cov­er image that bleeds off the edge.

If noth­ing else, they can be enlist­ed to pro­vide some stun­ning free pub­lic­i­ty for the titles that appeal to their high­ly visu­al sense of cre­ative play. (An author’s dream!)

France’s first indie book­store, Bordeaux’s Librairie Mol­lat, is reel­ing ‘em in with Book Face, an irre­sistible self­ie chal­lenge that harkens back to DJ Carl Mor­risSleeve­face project, in which one or more peo­ple are pho­tographed “obscur­ing or aug­ment­ing any part of their body or bod­ies with record sleeve(s), caus­ing an illu­sion.”

The results are pro­lif­er­at­ing on the store’s Insta­gram, as fetch­ing young things (and oth­ers) apply them­selves to find­ing the best angles and cos­tumes for their lit-based Trompe‑l’œil mas­ter­strokes.

…even the ones that don’t quite pass the forced per­spec­tive test have the capac­i­ty to charm.

…and not every shot requires intense pre-pro­duc­tion and pre­ci­sion place­ment.

Hope­ful­ly, we’ll see more kids get­ting into the act soon. In fact, if some young­sters of your acquain­tance are express­ing a bit of bore­dom with their vacances d’été, try turn­ing them loose in your local book­store to iden­ti­fy a like­ly can­di­date for a Book Face of their own.

(Remem­ber to sup­port the book­seller with a pur­chase!)

Back state­side, some librar­i­ans shared their pro tips for achiev­ing Book Face suc­cess in this 2015 New York Times arti­cle. The New York Pub­lic Library’s Mor­gan Holz­er also cites Sleeve­face as the inspi­ra­tion behind #Book­face­Fri­day, the hash­tag she coined in hopes that oth­er libraries would fol­low suit.

With over 50,000 tagged posts on Insta­gram, looks like it’s caught on!

See Librairie Mol­lats patrons’ gallery of Book Faces here.

Read­ers, if you’ve Book Faced any­where in the world, please share the link to your efforts in the com­ments sec­tion.

via This is Colos­sal/Hyper­al­ler­gic

Relat­ed Con­tent:

36 Abstract Cov­ers of Vin­tage Psy­chol­o­gy, Phi­los­o­phy & Sci­ence Books Come to Life in a Mes­mer­iz­ing Ani­ma­tion

The Art of Sci-Fi Book Cov­ers: From the Fan­tas­ti­cal 1920s to the Psy­che­del­ic 1960s & Beyond

Enter the Cov­er Art Archive: A Mas­sive Col­lec­tion of 800,000 Album Cov­ers from the 1950s through 2018

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. In hon­or of her son’s 18th birth­day, she invites you to Book Face your baby using The Big Rum­pus, her first book, for which he served as cov­er mod­el. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Archaeologists Think They’ve Discovered the Oldest Greek Copy of Homer’s Odyssey: 13 Verses on a Clay Tablet

The Home­r­ic epics are thought to have been com­posed in the 8th cen­tu­ry BCE. In the case of these ancient poems, how­ev­er, “com­posed” is a very ambigu­ous term. While archae­o­log­i­cal and lin­guis­tic research dates Homer’s ver­sions of the poems to some­where between 650 and 750, BCE., a schol­ar­ly con­sen­sus agrees these tales exist­ed hun­dreds of years before, in oral form, trans­mit­ted by wan­der­ing bards and mod­i­fied often in the telling. While they are thought to have been writ­ten down in Homer’s age, “any glimpse into Homer before medieval times is rare,” notes the Smith­son­ian, “and any insight into the com­po­si­tion of the epics is pre­cious.”

Before the medieval man­u­script tra­di­tion, begin­ning in the 10th cen­tu­ry CE, the largest extant copies of the Ili­ad and Odyssey come from what is known as the “Home­r­ic papyri,” frag­ments such as the Bankes Papyrus dis­cov­ered in Egypt in the 19th cen­tu­ry. Now, it’s being report­ed in news sites all over the web that the old­est writ­ten copy of the Odyssey has been found—or rather 13 vers­es of it, carved into a clay tablet and dis­cov­ered in the ancient city of Olympia in south­ern Greece. While the dat­ing has not been ful­ly con­firmed, experts believe the arti­fact comes from the Roman era, some­time before the 3rd cen­tu­ry CE.

While the dis­cov­ery may be sig­nif­i­cant, we should be care­ful to qual­i­fy the many claims made for its sta­tus. Like the poem itself, the sto­ry of this dis­cov­ery has seemed to change in its retellings. The tablet is the old­est find in Greece, not in the world. “Find­ing a bit of Homer in home soil,” says Mal­colm Heath, pro­fes­sor of Greek lan­guage and lit­er­a­ture at Leeds Uni­ver­si­ty, “will obvi­ous­ly give the Greeks a warm glow.” But, as The Times reports, “the ear­li­est sur­viv­ing frag­ments of the Odyssey” are actu­al­ly “bits of graf­fi­ti scratched into clay by school­boys at Olbia on the Black Sea coast of what is now Ukraine.” These frag­ments are “at least 600 years old­er than the Olympia tablet.”

Fur­ther­more, the Der­veni papyrus, dis­cov­ered in Egypt, which may include a quote from the poem, has been dat­ed as far back as 340 BCE. Nonethe­less, the new dis­cov­ery is still unusu­al, not only for its place of ori­gin, but also because of the medi­um. As Cam­bridge University’s Tim Whit­marsh notes, “It’s rare to find con­tin­u­ous text of Homer writ­ten out at such length in clay.” The tablet includes a notable word sub­sti­tu­tion that will cer­tain­ly be of inter­est to schol­ars, par­tic­u­lar­ly those at work on the “Homer Mul­ti­text project.”

That project, Smith­son­ian writes, is gath­er­ing all the frag­ments togeth­er “so they can be com­pared and put in sequence to pro­vide a broad­er view of Homer’s epics.” A view that shows us, as the project explains, “that there is not one orig­i­nal text that we should try to recon­struct,” but rather an unknown num­ber of vari­a­tions, tran­scribed and altered over the course of hun­dreds of years and scat­tered all over the ancient world. All of these frag­ments are fas­ci­nat­ing exam­ples, writes Sci­ence Alert, “of the way writ­ten texts can sur­vive through the cen­turies, or even mil­len­nia,” just as the sto­ry itself shows how oral tra­di­tions can sur­vive just as long with­out any need for writ­ten lan­guage at all.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

One of the Best Pre­served Ancient Man­u­scripts of The Ili­ad Is Now Dig­i­tized: See the “Bankes Homer” Man­u­script in High Res­o­lu­tion (Cir­ca 150 C.E.)

See The Ili­ad Per­formed as a One-Woman Show in a Mon­tre­al Bar by McGill Uni­ver­si­ty Clas­sics Pro­fes­sor Lynn Kozak

Emi­ly Wil­son Is the First Woman to Trans­late Homer’s Odyssey into Eng­lish: The New Trans­la­tion Is Out Today

Hear What Homer’s Odyssey Sound­ed Like When Sung in the Orig­i­nal Ancient Greek

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Wash­ing­ton, DC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

How the Radical Buildings of the Bauhaus Revolutionized Architecture: A Short Introduction

When Ger­many lost World War I, it also lost its monar­chy. The con­sti­tu­tion for the new post­war Ger­man state was writ­ten and adopt­ed in the city of Weimar, giv­ing it the unof­fi­cial name of the Weimar Repub­lic. Free of monar­chi­cal cen­sor­ship, the Weimar Repub­lic saw, among oth­er upheavals, the flood­gates open for artis­tic exper­i­men­ta­tion in all areas of life. One of the most influ­en­tial aes­thet­ic move­ments of the era began in Weimar, where the Great Big Sto­ry short above opens. As the city gave birth to the Weimar Repub­lic, it also gave birth to the Bauhaus.

The Bauhaus, lit­er­al­ly “build­ing house,” was a school in two sens­es, both a move­ment and an actu­al insti­tu­tion. The style it advo­cat­ed, accord­ing to the video’s nar­ra­tor, “looked to strip build­ings from unnec­es­sary orna­ment and build the foun­da­tion of what is called mod­ern archi­tec­ture.” It was at Weimar Uni­ver­si­ty in 1919 that archi­tect Wal­ter Gropius found­ed the Bauhaus, and his office still stands there as a tes­ta­ment to the pow­er of “clean, sim­ple designs fit for the every­day life.” We also see the first offi­cial Bauhaus build­ing, Georg Muche’s Haus am Horn of 1923, and Gropius’ Bauhaus Dessau of 1925, which “amazed the world with its steel-frame con­struc­tion and asym­met­ri­cal plan.”

You can learn more about the Bauhaus’ prin­ci­ples in the video above, a chap­ter of an Open Uni­ver­si­ty series on design move­ments. As an edu­ca­tion­al insti­tu­tion, the Bauhaus “offered foun­da­tion train­ing in many art and design dis­ci­plines,” includ­ing mass pro­duc­tion, seek­ing to “devel­op stu­dents who could uni­fy art with craft while embrac­ing new tech­nol­o­gy.” Bauhaus thinkers believed that “good design required sim­plic­i­ty and geo­met­ric puri­ty,” which led to works of graph­ic design, fur­ni­ture, and espe­cial­ly archi­tec­ture that looked then like rad­i­cal, some­times hereti­cal depar­tures from tra­di­tion — but which to their cre­ators rep­re­sent­ed the future.

“Noth­ing dates faster than peo­ple’s fan­tasies about the future,” art crit­ic Robert Hugh­es once said, but some­how the fruits of the Bauhaus still look as mod­ern as they ever did. That holds true even now that the influ­ence of the Bauhaus man­i­fests in count­less ways in var­i­ous realms of art and design, though it had already made itself glob­al­ly felt when the school moved to Berlin in 1932. By that time, of course, Ger­many had anoth­er regime change com­ing, one that would denounce the Bauhaus as a branch of “degen­er­ate art” spread­ing the dis­ease of “cos­mopoli­tan mod­ernism.” The Gestapo shut it down in 1933, but thanks to the efforts of emi­grants like Gropius, Hannes Mey­er, and Lud­wig Mies van der Rohe, each of whom once led the school, the Bauhaus would live on.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Oral His­to­ry of the Bauhaus: Hear Rare Inter­views (in Eng­lish) with Wal­ter Gropius, Lud­wig Mies van der Rohe & More

Down­load Orig­i­nal Bauhaus Books & Jour­nals for Free: Gropius, Klee, Kandin­sky, Moholy-Nagy & More

32,000+ Bauhaus Art Objects Made Avail­able Online by Har­vard Muse­um Web­site

Bauhaus, Mod­ernism & Oth­er Design Move­ments Explained by New Ani­mat­ed Video Series

The Female Pio­neers of the Bauhaus Art Move­ment: Dis­cov­er Gertrud Arndt, Mar­i­anne Brandt, Anni Albers & Oth­er For­got­ten Inno­va­tors

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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