Lavoisier is having none of your shit.
Heeeey so fun fact: the woman in that painting is Lavoisier’s wife, Marie-Anne Pierrette Paulze, who not only acted as Lavoisier’s lab assistant but also translated English and Latin texts into French so he could read them. But she didn’t just translate, she pointed out errors in the chemistry in some of the texts. Her observations of these errors convinced Lavoisier to study combustion, which led to his discovery of oxygen. She was also critical to the publication of Lavoisier’s Elementary Treatise on Chemistry in 1789. She kept strict records of every experiment they conducted together and drew detailed diagrams of all their equipment. She also threw amazing parties and invited all the brightest minds in science so her husband could pick their brains. After Lavoisier was guillotined she secured all of his notebooks and equipment for posterity.
In short: NOBODY KICKS MADAME LAVOISIER OUT OF THE LAB.
Also, a side note: My historian husband-to-be pointed some things out to me about this painting. Notice that Madame Lavoisier is looking at the viewer, and all the light is on her, while Lavoisier himself is physically smaller than her, in shadow, and looking up to her in reverence. This isn’t a candid photograph- all of these choices are deliberate. The painting isn’t of Lavoisier- Madame Lavoisier is meant to be the central subject.
I can just imagine Lavoisier telling all his colleagues that his wife is really the one with all the clever ideas, and them patting him on the back and telling him he’s sweet for saying so.
So I dyed my cats pink with leftover beet water. No regrets! <3 :D
I had to wash them because of some oil spill they had gotten into, and chose to use the beet water, which is perfectly safe. I had no idea it would really make them this pink.
I want to be someone’s favorite person to talk to.
Think London’s one big concrete jungle? Think again. The city’s mishmash of cultures have created something much more interesting. Transport for London asks can you spot the real London?
Social scientists estimate that 15 to 30 percent, or, “[a]s many as 600,000 to 1.2 million slaves” in antebellum America were Muslims. 46 percent of the slaves in the antebellum South were kidnapped from Africa’s western regions, which boasted “significant numbers of Muslims”.
These enslaved Muslims strove to meet the demands of their faith, most notably the Ramadan fast, prayers, and community meals, in the face of comprehensive slave codes that linked religious activity to insubordination and rebellion. Marking Ramadan as a “new American tradition” not only overlooks the holy month observed by enslaved Muslims many years ago, but also perpetuates their erasure from Muslim-American history.
Although the Quran “[a]llows a believer to abstain from fasting if he or she is far from home or involved in strenuous work,” many enslaved Muslims demonstrated transcendent piety by choosing to fast while bonded. In addition to abstaining from food and drink, enslaved Muslims held holy month prayers in slave quarters, and put together iftars - meals at sundown to break the fast - that brought observing Muslims together. These prayers and iftars violated slave codes restricting assembly of any kind.
For instance, the Virginia Slave Code of 1723 considered the assembly of five slaves as an “unlawful and tumultuous meeting”, convened to plot rebellion attempts. Every state in the south codified similar laws barring slave assemblages, which disparately impacted enslaved African Muslims observing the Holy Month.
Therefore, practicing Islam and observing Ramadan and its fundamental rituals, for enslaved Muslims in antebellum America, necessitated the violation of slave codes. This exposed them to barbaric punishment, injury, and oftentimes, even death. However, the courage to observe the holy month while bonded, and in the face of grave risk, highlights the supreme piety of many enslaved Muslims.
Ramadan was widely observed by enslaved Muslims. Yet, this history is largely ignored by Muslim American leaders and laypeople alike - and erased from the modern Muslim American narrative.
I’m so sick of seeing this post all over the damn place. Honestly this white woman looks almost exactly the same in every example and notice the thing that is constant between almost of them: her whiteness and Euro centric features.
Honestly all this shows is not some “massive variation in beauty standards” across the globe but the by and large HOMOGENOUS reality of white supremacy and the deification of white womanhood as the standard of beauty. This exists everywhere: from Africa to SE Asia; and it is just so blatantly apparent in this photo series. If you can ship your photo to dozens of different countries and the most people can do is adorn you with some “paint” or fluttery eye lashes, then I think there is something more going on than meets the eye.
Maybe this little thing called white supremacy.
Show me this same experiment with a dark skinned black woman or other WOC and watch skin tones be swapped, features be bludgeoned and more. White supremacy and the global exaltation of white womanhood as the standard of beauty in most countries is the massive elephant in the room in this “experiment” and the more I see this post circulating, the more bored I become with bland, myopic white “analyses” of beauty standards which do nothing to detangle their incredible amounts of privilege.
A Pennsylvania museum has solved the mystery of a Renaissance portrait in an investigation that spans hundreds of years, layers of paint and the murdered daughter of an Italian duke.
Among the works featured in the Carnegie Museum’s exhibit Faked, Forgotten, Found is a portrait of Isabella de’Medici, the spirited favorite daughter of Cosimo de’Medici, the first Grand Duke of Florence, whose face hadn’t seen the light of day in almost 200 years.
Isabella Medici’s strong nose, steely stare and high forehead plucked of hair, as was the fashion in 1570, was hidden beneath layers of paint applied by a Victorian artist to render the work more saleable to a 19th century buyer.
The result was a pretty, bland face with rosy cheeks and gently smiling lips that Louise Lippincott, curator of fine arts at the museum, thought was a possible fake.
Before deciding to deaccession the work, Lippincott brought the painting, which was purportedly of Eleanor of Toledo, a famed beauty and the mother of Isabella de’Medici, to the Pittsburgh museum’s conservator Ellen Baxter to confirm her suspicions.
Baxter was immediately intrigued. The woman’s clothing was spot-on, with its high lace collar and richly patterned bodice, but her face was all wrong, ‘like a Victorian cookie tin box lid,’ Baxter told Carnegie Magazine.
After finding the stamp of Francis Needham on the back of the work, Baxter did some research and found that Needham worked in National Portrait Gallery in London in the mid-1800s transferring paintings from wood panels to canvas mounts.
Paintings on canvas usually have large cracks, but the ones on the Eleanor of Toledo portrait were much smaller than would be expected.
Baxter devised a theory that the work had been transferred from a wood panel onto canvas and then repainted so that the woman’s face was more pleasing to the Victorian art-buyer, some 300 years after it had been painted.
“On her sixteenth birthday on 3 November 1911 Olga awoke to gifts from her parents of two necklaces, one of diamonds, one of pearls, and a ring…That evening, Olga appeared wearing a full length, high-necked, tulle dress with a lace bodice and a deep sash round her waist ribbed with roses, her cheeks flushed with excitement and her shining fair hair dressed on top of her head - an important signify-er of her transition from girl to young woman. ‘She was as excited over her debut as any other girl’, recalled Anna Vyrobova.
The ball was the social event of the Crimean season, and Olga was thrilled to have her favourite officer Nikolay Sablin as her escort for the evening; while Tatiana partnered with Nikolay Rodionov. At a quarter to seven, 140 carefully selected guests assembled in the large upstairs state dining room for dinner…After a candlelight dinner, the dancing began to music from the court orchestra, as officers of the Standart (which was in anchor nearby at Sevastopol) and the Alexandrinsky cavalry division invited ladies to dance. Nicholas proudly conduced his eldest daughter onto the dance floor for her first waltz, as a gaggle of admiring young officers gathered around to watch. Ir was a magical evening, with a full moon in a cloudless sky.
Flushed with the thrill of dancing the mazurka, waltz, contre danse, danse hongroise and cotillion, and heady with the Crimean champagne they had been allowed to drink for the first time, Olga and Tatiana spent the whole evening in high spirits, ‘fluttering around like butterflies’ as General Spiridovich recalled, and savouring every moment. Never one to say much at the age of eleven, Olga made little of the occasion:
'Today for the first time I put on a long white dress. At 9 pm was my first ball. Knyazhevich and I opened it. I danced the whole time,right up until 1 am and was very happy.There were many officers and ladies. Everyone was having a terribly good time. I am 16 years old. ‘”
~ Four Sisters: The Lost Lives of the Romanov Grand Duchesses by Helen Rappaport
Gao Rongguo - Identical Twins
"Growing up in Shandong Province, Rongguo went to many different schools and in that time knew three sets of identical twins.
For this project, he returned to Shandong Province to find his subjects and chose to photograph them so they appear to gaze at their own nonidentical reflection.
He chose subjects in their fifties because, he explains, the fifties are often called the years to know one’s fate.
With this project, Rongguo calls into question the idea of astrology, that two people born at exactly the same time, with identical DNA, end up with completely different personalities, interests, and in fact have entirely different fates.
While it is apparent that the subjects are identical twins, the sometimes minuscule, sometimes more obvious, differences between them create a poignant document of humanity and individual human determination.”