Jigsaw 7, Series 3

This picture taken in natural light, not much better than that taken on the occasion of the last solution (Jigsaw 1, Series 3, 25th December 2013). Maybe the shiny black background is the trouble on this occasion.

This Ravensburger puzzle continues to be a pleasure to solve, although for puzzle purposes I prefer the Garafalo picture (see 23rd April for its last solution), which is more of a challenge, Ravensburger quality notwithstanding. Solved in pretty much the same order as last time, with the only significant variation being leaving the dark, lower part of the left hand figure until last and the central column of the right hand figure immediately before that. Sorting was very helpful in solving the green part and the two dark parts of the puzzle and I was quite often able to just pick the right piece out of the lines, without the need for trial and error. Ravensburger cutting is good for this sort of thing. Solution ended with the discovery of an alien piece, probably left over from careless putting away of Jigsaw 6. Put aside in the possibly fond hope that I will remember about it when I next tackle Garafalo - presently being embarked on another go at the Ambassadors.

My only comment on the picture is that the right hand face seemed rather dull compared with the left hand face, probably the result of the right hand face being given appropriate clerical passivity and the left hand face belonging to the chap who paid for the painting. The left hand chap was also in better position to give time to sittings, being resident in England at the relevant time, unlike his clerical friend who was just visiting.

Puzzle solution proceeded in parallel with reading one book about the painting, by Mary Frederica Sophia Hervey, and dipping into another, by John North, with both being bought from Amazon blind, not something that I do very often.

The first book told me a lot about who the two ambassadors were and how they fitted into the complicated European scene at the time of the breaking away of the northern half of the Catholic church from the southern half. The left hand ambassador, for example, was an honoured guest at the coronation of Anne Boleyn, which I learned Henry VIII did not himself attend. He also took the precaution of importing 30 tuns of claret, presumably having heard bad reports of the stuff more usually drunk here. The right hand ambassador, accredited by Francis I to the Imperial & Peripatetic Court of Charles V, was mixed up in the scheme to swap Burgundy for Milan mentioned on 9th April. He was also a good friend of the left hand, hence the visit to England to see him.

The second book was mainly concerned to tell one about the astronomical instruments on the top shelf, painted with such care & skill. North appears to think that the instruments have been carefully painted to indicate the time of day and the date of the painting with, to this end, Holbein drawing on the knowledge of his astrological friend Nicolas Kratzer. There is also talk of horoscopes and hexagrams. I ran out of puff about half way through this book, unconvinced that Holbein was being quite as careful about his painting of the instruments as North was suggesting. I rest content with the idea that they simply stand for an important part of the the baggage of an educated man in the early sixteenth century; no more and no less. But I allow that Holbein might have been having a bit of sport at our expense by painting the shadows on and around the instruments neatly enough to suggest that they might be telling the time or whatever and he died happy, like James Joyce, secure in the knowledge that legions of scholars would spend quality time trying to work out the solution to a puzzle which did not have one.

Now looking for a home for them, along with the bacon last mentioned on 7th May.

Hunt the jigsaw

Jigsaw 23, Series 2, reported on 11th December was an entirely successful jigsaw, but it was the last in stock, the charity shops in Epsom - and indeed 'The Works' - being more into the 1,000 piece variety which I only attempt on high days and holidays. So I opted for a repeat of Holbein's 'Ambassadors', which is going well, and on which I will report on in due course, without refreshing my memory as to what I said about it last time beforehand. But a memory refresh from the original clearly was called for, not least because it afforded an opportunity to investigate the Bullingdons of Clapham Junction, a branch of the family with which I was unacquainted (see the other post of 11th December).

So off to Clapham Junction and out onto Grant Road. Nothing in sight but head down line and no less than three stands come into view, the nearest one nicely fitted out with a proper number of what looked like new Bullingdons. Checked one out and off up Falcon Road, right at the Wetherspoons and so onto the Albert Gate to Battersea park, being defeated in my attempt at our more usual Cambridge Road entry by the one way system. But a fine ride along Carriage Drive North, over Chelsea Bridge to Sloane Square and from there to Eaton Square. I had thought to call on my good friend Ngella but while his very large Mercedes was present, quite the right size for a diplomat from Africa, his very large footman told me that he was out to lunch and therefore not at home. Disappointed, pushed on past all the other flashy cars up Grosvenor Place to Hyde Park Corner, which I had been thinking to avoid but didn't - which was good as one mustn't lose one's nerve about such places. Round to Constitution Hill, up (or perhaps down) there to the Mall and so to Green Park tube station (West End), the long way round, a run for which, annoyingly, I was charged an extra £1. Strolled down Piccadilly to find a rather tatty bicycle, absolutely covered in full plastic bags, clearly the property of some bag person, some bag person who was nowhere to be seen. What exactly was he or she doing in the area? Not quite the street for a few tinnies, but maybe the street for a spot of begging from the Christmas crowds. Some of whom had spilled into the chocolate department of Fortnum & Mason's where they were issuing queuing tickets, for all the world like the delicatessen counter at a Sainsbury's. I decided that I could do better over the road at La Maison du Chocolat, which I did. A very smooth operation led by one Aurélie Devers, although the lady who served me was Spanish. Good at her work for all that.

And so down to Eros, encased in a large plastic dome for the festive season. Sadly, it being early afternoon they had turned on neither snow storm nor lights, so a return visit to see the thing properly is clearly called for. Hung a right down the Haymarket, past the theatre where I may or may not have seen the 'Apple Cart' (see 17th December) and onto the National Gallery, to find that I had forgotten how large a picture the 'Ambassadors' was and how good a picture it was.

I was struck by how young the two men were, both in their mid twenties, and I supposed that in those days of uncertain life you needed to make it young otherwise you might miss out. And then how all their expensive toys were scattered on a rather plain wooden stand and I supposed here that the stand was actually a piece of studio furniture and the artist had simply slung a rug over the top and arranged the toys, perhaps borrowed for the week from whatever passed for a pawn shop at that time. The two young men might have been rich, expensively dressed and important, but they may not have been learned; that might simply be the image that they wanted to convey. To at least appear to be true renaissance men, up there with Erasmus (the subject of a nearby portrait. As was a Danish-Italian widow in her (expensive looking) widow's weeds, painted for Henry VIII, who was thinking of marrying her second hand. Not quite my thing, but I dare say fashions in such matters are not what they were).

I had not noticed the crucifix before, hiding behind the top left hand edge of the green curtain (illustrated). Hiding to symbolise the retreat of the Lord in the face of the new learning or there to remind one of one's mortality, of one's small place in this world, along with the perspective skull? And I did not notice the broken lute string, clearly important, before I read the label.

In some ways a rather superior version of a Pre-Raphaelite painting; sumptuous portraiture set in a nest of valuable and/or significant objects.

Having done enough of that, out of the gallery to find a return Bullingdon at Pall Mall East. First thought was that given the threatening look of the sky, I would stop at Waterloo, but in the event pushed on to Vauxhall Cross. As it turned out I would have made Clapham Junction dry, but I was not dressed or laden for rain and it did not seem worth the risk. Bought an expensive but decent roll for £2.25 and just caught a train to Epsom, an uneventful journey, but livened up at Epsom by passing a very flash looking Audi Coupé in the car park, engine running, driver a young man rolling a cigarette. For all the world like a dealer about to make his Thursday round of the nearby estate. Are the police that relaxed these days that he could be that relaxed?

Jigsaw 1, Series 3

As reported on 19th December, have now moved onto reprises of earlier jigsaws, rather than attempting new-to-me or even new ones - except perhaps for the odd large jigsaw on state occasions.

Got through the 'Ambassadors' with commendable speed, even if the Lumia clearly has difficulty with taking pictures in artificial light. Although it might have thought - not that unreasonably - that the point of the picture was to bring out the structure of the jigsaw rather than the skill of Holbein, which it has done rather well. This may also be the result of Ravensburger's 'SOFTCLICK' technology changing the profile of the cut cardboard. I certainly liked the way the pieces fitted together: a very positive fit and one never had any doubt about the rightness or wrongness of a proposed connection.

The puzzle was also completely regular with exactly four pieces meeting at every interior vertex, while at the same time there was a pleasing variety of shape and pong configuration. A fine example of the puzzle maker's art. I must check in the heap, as I recall having another from the same team.

Started with the edge then moved onto the patterned floor. Then the carpet, then the toys. This leaving the two figures, the darker part of the floor at the back and the green curtain.. Curtain first, the stripes making it easier than it might appear. Then the left hand figure, then the right hand figure, picking up the various holes in the darker part of the floor as I went along.

Having done the puzzle, I moved onto the Technical Bulletin mentioned yesterday. Interesting stuff and I learned that a painting of this age, even one which has lasted much better than many much younger, less carefully painted paintings, is something of a reconstruction, a bit in the way of H.M.S Victory at Portsmouth, of which it is said most of the timber that you can see has been replaced at least once since its presence at the famous victory (about which we make very nearly as much noise as the French make about their near contemporary victory at Austerlitz). So in the case of the painting, made up of a dozen or so oak planks from the Poland of 1515 or thereabouts, it has been taken apart several times, with much retouching of the joins needed when putting the thing back together again. Poor conditions including damp have resulted in a lot of flaking and blistering over the centuries, meaning more retouching. What we see now being a cunning compromise between having a picture which the punter - like me - can enjoy and preserving the work of the master intact and untouched.

PS: having written the foregoing, I now turn up my comments of 4th February. Intrigued to find that I said pretty much the same on that occasion as this. Liked the same features of the puzzle and solved it in much the same order. All this without any conscious memory of the first solution at all.