The art and science of the Eiffel Tower

When I was first learning about travel stock photography, the Eiffel Tower was given as an example of a universally-recognized landmark that is both most-photographed and most demanded for editorial purposes. This is a bit surprising, because with so many images of it available, one would think that the demand would be satisfied many times over.

Still, there is something more to photographing the Eiffel Tower than simply chalking up another must-take image on the itinerary, at least for me personally. Just being there reaffirms that I am, in fact, in Paris. This is why it this one of the first sites I like to visit when I am in the city. Also, it somehow represents the synergy between the art and engineering, which I find fascinating.

For example, I found out recently that one of the first wind tunnels for fluid mechanics experiments was designed by Gustave Eiffel and installed in the aerodynamics laboratory at the foot of the tower in 1909. It was later moved to its present location in Auteuil in 1912, where it’s still operational, in principle. It is also curious that around that time, Eiffel was involved in a scientific argument about equivalency between testing the aerodynamic properties of objects in a wind tunnel and towing them through air on railroad tracks. Apparently, he appealed for mediation to Henri Poincaré, who declared that the tests would be equivalent, provided that there would be sufficient room in the wind tunnel to from around the tested object without obstruction (what we now refer to as low blockage).

Samurai Tales book

While browsing through my bookshelf, I stumbled on a book called “Samurai Tales” by Romulus Hillsborough. I bought this book at an airport, during one of my first trips to Japan. I read it then, during the flight, and found it to be a nice match for my interest in Japanese history and all things related to kendo, while unmistakably written for a by a foreigner. Incidentally, an advice for foreigners that I came across early on in my becoming fascinated with Japan and found to be absolutely essential for adjusting to living there – while being eager to adapt to the Japanese culture, do not try to “become Japanese”. First, this attempt would be doomed to failure by its objective impossibility, and second, being authentic (yet considerate to others) is perhaps the most valuable trait that allows one to bridge the cultural gap.

This time, what caught my attention was the photo on the cover of the “Samurai Sketches” book. It’s the last portrait of Sakamoto Ryoma taken in 1885, just days before his assassination. The remarkable feature is how relaxed he looks. I realize of course that this is probably due to the slow shutter speed used in those times. Yet, the contrast between the national-scale turmoil of the Meiji Restoration period and the personal-scale tranquility that the key players of that drama were able to project, even if temporarily, is amazing. Somehow, when I initially read this book, I didn’t pay much attention to this aspect, being mostly engrossed in the excitement of the quintessential samurai saga of loyalty, individual bravery and martial arts. This time, I am looking forward to re-reading it from a different perspective.

Placidity Amidst Raging Waves

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“Saevis Tranquillus in Undis:
Placidity Amidst Raging Waves”

— life motto of William of Orange

On the second day of my trip to The Nethelands, I visited an impressive exhibit on the history of William of Orange in his house/palace called Prinsenhof in Delft. Before that, I thought about William of Orange first of all as a rebel leader, so I was surprised by his life motto written on the wall of the exhibit hall: “Placidity amidst raging waves”. Although William was undoubtedly a rebel, he became one quite reluctantly. In fact, during the iconoclasm in Holland, he predicted that it would cause a major political and personal disaster to everyone involved. He also struggled quite a bit to reconcile his oath of allegiance to the king with his inherent loyalty to his country, ultimately represented by its people.

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Overall, I find it tremendously impressive how forward-thinking William was in his political views and in his exercise of restraint (he was nicknamed “William the Silent“). Perhaps, it is his personal trait of tolerance and progressive views that continues to manifest itself in Holland’s ability to continuously ride the wave of progress, from near-exclusive (with the exception of Portugal) trade agreement with Japan in the Middle Ages to art of the post-Renessance to technological innovations of the modern days.

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In general, the ability to remain calm in the face of external perturbations is the key to mastering skills and life situations. For example, the space before the stimulus and the reaction is crucial in kendo, which is arguably a model for everything else in life, as described by Minamoto Musashi, whose “The Book of Five Rings” has been very influential in the business world. Even in photography, I often find that it is good to take time time to observe the subject instead of immediately starting to shoot in fear of missing the opportunity. A little pause allows me to choose a better viewpoint and composition and ultimately, to learn more about the subject.

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My neck of the woods

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When I think of Russian landscape, at least that of the European part of Russia, the history of which is heavily influenced by the invasions of  Mongols and Tartars, I imagine it as a vast steppe. In reality, until relatively recent times (mid-XVIII century), the European Russia was dominated by forests.

I realize the great importance of forests in Russian history and culture only now, when reading the lectures by Vasily Klyuchevsky. He explains that the forest was not only the natural resource and a strategic barrier between the early Russian city-states and the Asian invaders, but also the spiritual haven, a place where, for example, hermits would retreat to live in silence in order to escape the stresses of then-modern society. I suppose, nowadays, living without Internet would be a comparable feat…

When I go to Russia this year, I would like to try to take some photos of (whatever remains of) its forests. Generally, I find that photographing forests is not easy – the light is limited, the focus of the composition if not easy to define, unlike in the pictures of sea coasts or mountains. Nevertheless, some of my favourite landscapes from BC are those of the forests (e.g. the image above.) The West Coast’s forests and the trees themselves, though beautiful, are quite different from those of Russia. I wonder if I would be able to convey this difference in a photograph…

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History lessons

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I like history. It has always been one of my favourite subjects to learn outside of work, but my interest in history is very casual. I enjoy the history of art and science, biographies of prominent historical figures and history of places to which I travel. Being an engineer, I have always felt that pursuit of history, while entertaining and intellectually stimulating, lacked the immediate usefulness beyond the obvious “learning from mistakes of others” sort of things.

Recently, I read an interesting observation about the applied aspect of history in a series of lectures about the history of Russia by Vasily Klyuchevsky (1841 – 1911). His idea is that an ideal state of the society is that of perfect balance, when each subject/element of the society is living and functioning to its full potential, without diminishing his/her own rights or oppressing others. Klyuchevsky describes history of a society as an accounting balance sheet, a bank statement of advances and shortcomings left to us by previous generations. If our ancestors have made great progress in certain areas, but fell behind (with respect to other societies) in others, it is our generation’s role to make up for the shortcomings (or at least, to work towards reducing the deficit), while taking advantage of the positive elements passed on to us.

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Indigo

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My favourite colour is blue. Or maybe, purple, because in painting, it can appear either cool or warm, depending on the adjacent colours. Naturally, I find the colour indigo, which is between blue and purple in the electromagnetic spectrum, fascinating, with all its history and applications in art (fashion) and martial arts.

The indigo dye was developed in India, and it was a very rare commodity in Europe in the middle ages. During Napoleonic wars, which coincided with the development of technology that allowed mass production and dyeing of fabrics, the French uniforms (habit à la française) were dyed with indigo.

In Japan, the import of silk from China was restricted during various prolonged periods, and cotton was difficult to dye with anything, except indigo. Over time, an intricate process, indeed an art form in itself, of indigo dyeing was developed. There is a belief that indigo dye repels bacteria and insects. Probably, for that reason, practice uniforms for kendo (keiko go) are traditionally coloured with indigo.

Nowadays, indigo is often used to colour denim fabric. Interestingly, the much thought-after Japanese denim is often made on vintage shuttle looms, developed by Toyoda company in the 1920s. These looms are slow and produce a nonuniform fabric by today’s standards, but for denim, this is a valuable feature, as slight variations and imperfections is what makes the jeans unique.

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I took some macro photos of the fabric of two pairs of jeans that I own: a factory-distressed pair bought as a souvenir while I was on sabbatical in Japan (I was lucky to find a size that fit) and a brand new “raw” denim pair (i.e. it has not been washed after dyeing). True denim enthusiasts are rumoured to go month or even years before washing their raw jeans in order to develop the wear patterns that are unique to the wearer. I don’t think I will go that far (my kendo keiko gi is sufficiently sweaty, so I would rather keep my other clothes relatively clean), but breaking in the new jeans will be a fun little project, even just for observing the changing hue of the indigo dye. Perhaps, I will take more closeup shots of the fabric to record the process.

I don’t think I will be able to reproduce the cool wear patterns of the pre-distressed jeans, but it is neat to know that they will be will be one-of-a-king and, in a very direct way, an expression of my lifestyle.

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