Restoring Art: why some people don't like this idea.
Subtopic: why do we sometimes like scratchy old movie films to sharp, modern digital videos?
It's been known for about 150 years that classic art works we admire looked very different when they were made. The centuries have darkened and discolored the varnish on paintings, and the weather has worn away the surface dyes and paints of statues. When they were new, paintings had vibrant colors (now hidden under layers of aged varnish) and those "white" statues from Greece & Rome were actually painted with bright colors back in their day (long since worn away by oxidation, sand, wind and rain).
There are ongoing efforts to analyze and restore ancient artworks. Not everyone is happy about this.
Our (European-based) culture for art has evolved to adore faded, yellowed-varnish paintings and weather-worn, white statues. Anything different is often seen as"tacky", "gaudy". But .... that's what the stuff actually looked liked when it was created. So .... are there "right" and "wrong" sides to this debate? Well, yes, and no, and I'm not here to settle the argument - just to express my opinion - which is "I can go either way on this".
An example will help make my point. Here is an untouched picture of some canoes. It's pleasant, subdued colors, a fairly realistic image of that overcast day. I like it.
Here is another version of the same picture. This one I obviously processed on a computer. You may or may not like it, but I like it very much. Even more than the original. It has character, it's a bit fantastical, unreal, imaginative, not what you would actually see out there - and that's why I prefer it over the (comparatively sedate) original.
I like the fantasy of this particular modified picture more than the reality of its original.This isn't always true - sometimes I like the originals more than the variation (I hate colorized old B&W movies, for example). I like the look and feel of (mildly) scratched old B&W movies much more than the look and feel of super sharp digital videos. The look of old film movies has more character than the clinical sharpness of videos.
The worn look of old photos and movies (and paintings and statues) puts a magical distance between you (the viewer) and the real scene of what's in the picture. You are very aware that you are looking at a representation of the reality - you are very aware that the reality has come and gone. All that's left is this (magical?, imperfect) picture (or movie, or statue) of it.
So, getting back to restoring artworks, I can understand that people rather like the time-aged, weather-worn art more than restored "originals".
I could argue that there is a place for both versions.
As a bonus for reading through my opinions above, here's a computer sketch of our new Nespresso machine (arrived last night).
On the other side of my brain ...
I am now captivated by the engineering problem that Jim asked me to think about. AND ..... I am looking at solving the equations through Python (which is new to me), and/or creating an ANSYS finite element model of the problem (which I have not done in 15-20 years !!). My brain is overloaded.
My very first original Python script doesn't do much, but I am proud !
This morning, I loaded the educational version of ANSYS (had to install WINE first ) and ran one tutorial case. Much have I forgotten about ANSYS modeling.
I am vacuuming the cobwebs out of my brain, and "progress" is very slow here, but I am having fun.
Well, 3+ hours later, I finally have my first ANSYS model on 15 (20?) years. Need to apply boundary conditions and forces (tomorrow?) to see how it deflects (which is the whole point of this analysis).
A Fallen Leaf
More Fallen Leaves
Remember, remember!
The fifth of November,
The Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know of no reason
The Gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
"What's the fare", I asked the driver.
"$2.50."
I started counting change as the bus pulled away, but the coins from my pocket looked strange, and the bus was bumping over potholes (you'd think a state capital like Albany would have smoother streets). I pulled down the folding seat next to the driver, she looked at me - "That's the safety marshall's seat". I was struggling with my coins. "But okay, you can sit there and count. Are you okay?"
"I'm good.".
Eventually the coin machine said I had deposited enough money.
"Are you okay?" again, as I stayed in the marshall's seat.
"I'm good. Where are we going?"
"This is the Center Line Bus to the shopping center."
"Oh, yes, of course. Does it stop at the airport?"
"The airport ! Nowhere near the airport. Say mister ...."
More passengers were getting on and had to work around me as I was half blocking the change machine.
"Good morning", I said as the filed by. "Good morning."
The driver looked over at me as much as the road ahead. "Where you going, mister?"
"I left my car at the airport last night."
"How did you get into town, then?"
"I don't remember. Maybe I am a bit turned round today. Disconnected a little. Just leave me at the airport."
"Sure. Okay". She pushed a small black button on the dashboard, and an ambulance was waitng for us, two stops ahead.
"Good morning" I said, and turned back to the driver, "Have a nice day today. I hope I put in the right change. Good morning", I said again.
The medics slipped the medical alert tag out of my collar, and Elisabeth was waiting at the hospital when we got there. Her eyes were red and weepy. "You scared us to death, Dad."
"Sorry, honey . . . . I got lost."
Midterm elections are (thank you, God) over and done with. No more robot phone calls, no more TV commercials of candidates kissing babies, shaking hands with non-white people and hugging kids in hospital beds with tubes running in and out of their bodies.
I didn't vote (again). I am too disgusted with the system and the voters.
The uncompromising progressives ("liberals") have moved too far to the Left; the uncompromising regressives ("conservatives") have moved too far to the right. Stalemate, always and forever.
Even Abby Agrees with Me
Coloring Books
This hobby does not drive me wild. It's kind of tedious and I keep wondering "Where does this end up?" Anyway, I finished my first page (after a few weeks of coloring it !! Then I cleaned up the background on the computer. Not too sure if I will go on to page 2 yet.
I'll take this down after a few days, but could not resists posting it.
Al Jolson
Legend has it that, when Dad played his Al Jolson records, I would (as a baby) stand up in my crib and sing along. At big family parties, I would sing my impression of "Mammy", even getting down on my knee for the final verse. (Contrary to a false but widespread myth, I did not do any blackface performances.)
In retrospect, my Dad's 78RPM records of 1920's, '30's and '40's popular Jazz were my musical references for decades to follow - that was what music was all about. I listened to Rock-N-Roll, but in my heart I knew what the real stuff was.
(Trivia: the very first theater-distributed "talkie" was "The Jazz Singer" (1928) - a somewhat romanticised biography of Al (starring ..... Al himself!).
Today, of course, the Social Justice Warriors would bleed out of their ears and both eyes to even think off someone performing in blackface, and they would enflame Twitter, etc etc with outrage. Well .... it's a new world (theirs not mine), and that's how things go 'round . . . so be it.
I am listening to Al as I type here, and trying not to cry of nostalgia. At this moment, the tune is "Rock-A-Bye Your Baby With A Dixie Melody", and I'm feeling sad for everyone else in the world but me.
From July 2008
A guy on the photo forum got me remembering this from my RC car days.
Eventually the coin machine said I had deposited enough money.
Midterm elections are (thank you, God) over and done with. No more robot phone calls, no more TV commercials of candidates kissing babies, shaking hands with non-white people and hugging kids in hospital beds with tubes running in and out of their bodies.
Legend has it that, when Dad played his Al Jolson records, I would (as a baby) stand up in my crib and sing along. At big family parties, I would sing my impression of "Mammy", even getting down on my knee for the final verse. 
