A Better Mousetrap?
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Toady Lickspittle - 24 Aug 2007 18:40 GMT In Robert Campin's Annunciation Tryptich, also called the Merode Alterpiece Joseph is seen working near a mousetrap (click it to zoom), but I cannot see how it works merely by looking at his picture. Any ideas how it functioned? It's on the table next to his right elbow:
http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/images/arth_214images/Campin/Merode_r ight.jpg
http://tinyurl.com/yvf7lb
Accompanying text:
http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/arth214_folder/campin.html
Scaly Lizard - 25 Aug 2007 10:12 GMT >In Robert Campin's Annunciation Tryptich, also called >the Merode Alterpiece Joseph is seen working near a mousetrap [quoted text clipped - 3 lines] > >http://employees.oneonta.edu/farberas/arth/images/arth_214images/Campin/Merode_r ight.jpg Hi Toady,
It's difficult to see in the small picture online, but there are two mousetraps in the picture: the one on the table is 'armed' and the one on the windowsill in the background is 'at rest'.
How do they work? I could draw this to show you, much easier than trying to describe it with words, but here's how they worked:
What's difficult to see about the one on the table is that there is a slab extending at a downward slope, almost directly away from the viewer, from the upraised crossbar to the rear edge of the base of the contraption. Campin's technique renders the slab almost invisible, and one wonders whether he did it to prove his mastery of perspective, or to theologically minimize the importance of the device's lethal purpose, since it obviously represents Jesus.
The slab would have been brick or stone in these models, because they are not very thick. If it was wooden, it would be much larger to get the necessary weight, heavy enough to crush a mouse.
Between the upright arms which support the crossbar, a pin is inserted to support the slab. The lower end of the pin rests on a movable piece of wood directly below the crossbar. The skill factor comes into play here. The lower sill must contact the trigger, but also be free to move. Then you must try to balance the pin on top of it as precariously as you can, while still supporting the weight of the slab.
The ridge you see along the base serves two purposes. First, it helps to stabilize the slab when setting the trap. Second, it provides another few milliseconds of indecision in the mouse's brain, greatly improving the trap's value.
Below the loose piece of wood, a curved piece is inserted with the ends pointing upwards... one end thick and the other one, thinner and pointy, on the inside of the trap. This is the trigger.
What looks like a keyhole in the base in your image is actually the left edge of the thicker end of this curved piece, facing outward. Campin was pretty good at perspective, but he still had issues with visualizing light sources. The leftmost panel in this triptych has a shadow pattern with the light emanating from the central panel, the Annunciation.
The rightmost panel of Joseph has two light sources: an emanation from the central panel as reflected in the tools, and another source from the open shutters. For his reasons, Campin chose to shadow everything above the mousetrap as illuminated by the windows. So what did he do at the border between these two light sources? He places the main mousetrap and a small bowl. Follow that horizontal line across Joseph's chest. Everything above is lit by window, everything below is lit by the Annunciation.
The bowl and his clothes are smoothly lit from both lights, but the mousetrap is lit unevenly, with some parts reflecting only from the windows, and other parts only reflecting light from the central panel. The face of the mousetrap's base which shows towards the viewer is shadowed by light through the windows, but the higher crossbar is shadowed as if lit from the central panel of the triptych.
This is why it looks like there is a hole in the base of the trap. Rather, this is the thick end of the curved trigger, with a mistake in shadowing, either unintended by Campin or by design to emphasize the mysticality of the device.
The pointy end of the trigger is behind the pin in this image, directly under the slab. The pointy end is to secure the bait, to make the mouse work hard to get it. It's curved to ensure that moving the thinner end will disturb the thicker end.
The idea is that when jostling the bait, the mouse jiggles the curved piece, which then dislodges the free piece of wood supporting the lower end of the pin. As soon as that moves, the pin flies out and the slab comes down, crushing the mouse.
Why is the trigger curved? So it doesn't break when the slab crashes down, and also to minimize the space it allows between the slab and the base. The outward end pivots upward when the slab crashes down, so you don't have to replace the trigger every time you smoosh a rodent.
The pin has an eyelet at the top to attach a string. When the trap springs, the pin will fly out. If you don't want to spend fifteen minutes fishing the pin out from under a cupboard, you tie a string to it. In fact, this design won't work if a string is not suspending the pin from above. As the slab comes down, it pushes the string outward, ensuring that the pin flies outward.
Without a string, or with a string attached to any other place, the pin will fall inwards half the time, allowing the mouse some wiggle room and a half-caught mouse will have a chance to survive.
This is why the upright arms and crossbar are necessary: the pin must fly outwards or it's now a mousescarer, not a mousetrapper.
Why is the base sloped in a wedge shape? That decreases the distance the slab must travel, and so decreases the time that an alert mouse has to escape. It's a game of milliseconds.
For the same reason, the triggers on both mousetraps in this image are on the right side of the mechanism. It was meant to be placed along a wall with the trigger close in, blocking off the victim's quickest exit route.
This website has a short video of a similar mousetrap in operation. This one uses a brick as the slab, and clearly has forgotten some useful design elements which the Dutch knew about in the early 1400's...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=HmvMEyyStYM
As for the explanation of the presence of a mousetrap in Joseph's workshop, the page you link to does a good job of relating Joseph's religious role in producing God's Cosmic Deviltrap. But this image is full of other double-meanings...
The upper mousetrap (outside the house) is already sprung and the one on the table is ready to go. This expresses the idea that Jesus is forever protecting the faithful, but mankind must toil to keep their spiritual defenses ready. This attitude was a key philosophy in the European executions of witches at the time it was painted.
Note Campin's crafty use of perspective in placing the mousetrap on the windowsill... look just above it and see the relative size of the people in the city square. The mousetrap would be the size of a gallows sitting in the square, and Campin has adjusted the position of the upright arms and crossbar to reinforce this impression.
The theological double-entendre is clear. The same trap that snares the devil is also the basis for justice in a good god-fearing society. What undoes the devil also spells doom for the townsfolk who the devil himself has snared.
Remember the string hanging down on the upper mousetrap? As a gallows, this is the noose. As a mousetrap, this is the technological innovation that ensures the mouse's demise. The two meanings are that man's laws reflect god's laws, and that mankind is expected to fight the devil, using Jesus (the vigilant mousetrap on the table) as an example.
Joseph is making a sieve, but over the arm of his bench, not on the table next to the mousetrap. Thus leaning to his left, Joseph is out of the arc of the shutters precariously suspended from the ceiling. If the shutter (slab?) above him should fall, Joseph is safe. The double-entendre about Joseph's posture is that divine protection is bestowed to Joseph because he is making an object which separates the good from the bad... and that he is blessed because he separates his pious work on God's Cosmic Mousetrap from his daily carpentry tasks.
I know it sounds goofy, but in the early 1400's this was meaty stuff! In those days, all European art was religious. The only measure of creative expression a Dutch artist of the early 1400's could show was in the level of cleverness he could inject while depicting biblical scenes.
Hope that answers your question about the trap (and the painting)
SL
Toady Lickspittle - 27 Aug 2007 17:13 GMT >Hope that answers your question about the trap (and the painting) Great stuff, thanks! The You Tube video was interesting as well. Still difficult to see how such a small device could have the necessary oomph to kill the intruding beastie, but it does seem it must have worked for them way back when.
At risk of wearing out my welcome, you seem quite well versed in techniques of the Old Masters, so perhaps I can pose another query. Did fingers pointing upward have some sort of significance other than the obvious one of Heaven?
http://cgfa.sunsite.dk/vinci/p-vinci1.htm
http://cgfa.sunsite.dk/eyck/p-eyck8.htm
http://www.nga.gov/cgi-bin/pimage?45853+0+0
http://www.philipresheph.com/demodokos/helen/pic24.htm
http://www.philipresheph.com/demodokos/helen/pic42.htm
http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6496/2150/1600/blake.4.jpg
http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/p/parmigia/v_jerome.html
http://www.colours-art-publishers.com/prod1691.htm
http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/c/correggi/noli_me.html
http://www.artchive.com/artchive/L/leonardo/lastsupp.jpg.html (image viewer enlarges)
http://www.artchive.com/artchive/R/raphael/raphael_athens_plato.jpg.html
Even the trees are doing it!
http://www.nga.gov/cgi-bin/pimage?300+0+0
Toady
Scaly Lizard - 28 Aug 2007 07:49 GMT >>Hope that answers your question about the trap (and the painting) > >Great stuff, thanks! The You Tube video was interesting as >well. Still difficult to see how such a small device could have >the necessary oomph to kill the intruding beastie, but it does >seem it must have worked for them way back when. The crushing blow doesn't always have to be lethal for the trap to work.
Mice are tough critters, but will asphyxiate even if they survive the slab smacking down. Similarly, if caught by the tail, a mouse will be finished off by the next cat, dog, or person who comes by.
>At risk of wearing out my welcome, you seem quite well >versed in techniques of the Old Masters, so perhaps I can >pose another query. Don't worry about taking up my time, it's still a week before i'm back to the grind. By the way, interesting q's. Are you building a lesson plan for Fall students?
>Did fingers pointing upward have some >sort of significance >other than the obvious one of Heaven? <snipt links>
>Even the trees are doing it! > http://www.nga.gov/cgi-bin/pimage?300+0+0 > >Toady Errg, there are ten "yes" answers, but at the end of the day the answer is "no," because they all boil down to some facet of spirituality... so the gesture in western art always means some sort of reference to heaven.
Nice assortment of links, many finger-pointers. St. Jerome, various angels, apostles and of course Hermes in the Judgement Of Paris. Hermes almost always points up.
The images you refer to are from the late medieval and the renaissance, but the tradition of the "We're Number One" pose has longer history in western art than that. Check out these Ravenna mosaics from 1,000 years earlier:
http://www.hp.uab.edu/image_archive/ulj/mosaic10.jpg http://www.hp.uab.edu/image_archive/ulj/mosaic11.jpg
Two fingers pointed up meant the same thing as one in the renaissance, and the inclusion of the middle finger might have been a sign of respect towards heaven, since pointing a single index finger at things was a common feature of persistent pagan-based traditions and superstitions.
Dogma is that the index finger pointed up is instruction to the viewer, to turn to god for salvation. Noveau conspiracy theories claim that the pose is used by certain artists to reflect a heretical christian belief, pick your favorite one from a whole spectrum of heresies.
Other theories say that outright pagan beliefs prospered in Europe, and offer the ancient origins of the pose as evidence. And still more theories propose that the index finger pointing up recalls an erect penis, or forms the letter "J" with the thumb. Obviously, when one has a real letter to work with, this hand pose can be linked to any word which has ever started with the letter "J" and the possibilities are only as bounded as the feverish investigator's imagination.
The truth is more mundane. An extended index finger symbolically names an object, and makes it part of the pointer's version of reality. In many cultures today, pointing at another person is forbidden, for fear of black magic. In the Far East, pointing your fingers (or your chopsticks) at another person is a bad insult.
Even today in the US, you still hear a parent admonishing their child for pointing at another person with index finger, and the anti-pointing custom survives in common games and local slangs. Pointing at people was forbidden in most European cultures until just the last century.
In general theological sense, the upward finger has meant 'heaven' for all of recorded history. The tower of Babel aimed high for divine knowledge, as did Daedalus. Smoke from offerings and volcanos went up. Gods routinely lived high in mountains, from Sinai to Olympus, to Etna and Valhalla.
Bottom line: Up means Heaven. Pointing up means calling out a connection between heaven and earth in the form of the one who is pointing. In classical art, Hermes and Mercury point upwards because they are the Greek and Roman expressions of communication between the gods and people.
Simple physical factors may have reinforced this custom. At sea, electrostatic forces cause St. Elmo's Fire to appear at the tops of masts, recognized long before there was an Elmo. A similar phenomenon can occur on the tops of trees on land. When conditions are just right before a lightning storm, an electrostatic halo of light can even be produced by a person holding one finger high in the air in a clearing. Unfortunately, this means the person is likely to get struck by a bolt soon, so don't try it.
The tales about secret symbolism are entertaining, but pointing to the sky is one of those gestures which has survived unchanged from ancient times right into modern screenplays. Other hand poses survived unchanged from ancient times too: joined hands in front of heart or face always means "pray". Hands at belly-level, palms up and tilted inwards always means "please help".
In late medieval and renaissance art, the pose means the same thing it meant throughout the early medieval, classical and ancient worlds:
1. The pointer is in heaven, or 2. The pointer plans to go to heaven, or 3. The pointer is in contact with heaven, or 4. The pointer wants the viewer to think more about heaven.
SL
Toady Lickspittle - 28 Aug 2007 22:00 GMT >Don't worry about taking up my time, it's still a week before >i'm back to the grind. By the way, interesting q's. Are you >building a lesson plan for Fall students? Nah, I just following up on some things that have caused me to scratch my head when I first saw them. Consequently, I always have a slew of little pieces of paper scattered about with cryptic notes on them.
I feel sure there are tons of 'private jokes' out there from ancient masters that I am missing. Like the collection of lost proverbs being illustrated in Brueghel's pieces, for example.
http://www.answers.com/topic/netherlandish-proverbs
I have been studying Jan Steen's works for a couple of weeks now - fascinating stuff! Still, I just know there are hidden meanings in many of them that I will never discover. Broken tobacco pipes, egg shells, baskets full of crutches and other oddities hanging from ceilings, where the meanings have not survived the centuries. A couple of works show games of 'skittles' where a ball is being rolled at a series of pins, much like bowling today. But I can see there are only nine pins and in the shape of a diamond (like the nine-ball pool game), and it would appear almost impossible to achieve a 'strike' with such a set up.
One also sees such things as a half-peeled lemon:
http://cgfa.sunsite.dk/steen/p-steen11.htm
The oysters were probably suggestive of debauchery, as they are today, but the lemon is a mystery. That has got to be Jan himself sitting next to the fireplace, chortling at us from history. Looks like a game of backgammon going on through the open doorway, and for some reason Steen's characters are always holding their wineglasses by the bottom part of the stem. Could be a meaning there; could be it just keeps the wine cooler. Dunno. The painting above the fireplace is suggestive of something, but I cannot place it.
And what about the 'sawhorse' looking thingee in the one below? On the top of the building at the center of the picture where the woman is looking out of her doorway:
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Image:Jan_Steen_Peasants_before_an_Inn.jpg
Perhaps the vines are growing to/from it? Dunno.
Scaly Lizard - 05 Sep 2007 07:34 GMT >>Don't worry about taking up my time, it's still a week before >>i'm back to the grind. By the way, interesting q's. Are you [quoted text clipped - 3 lines] >my head when I first saw them. Consequently, I always have a slew of >little pieces of paper scattered about with cryptic notes on them. Ha! The one single thing i hate about LCD flatpanel monitors is that there's nowhere to stick a postit.
>I feel sure there are tons of 'private jokes' out there from ancient >masters that I am missing. Like the collection of lost proverbs being >illustrated in Brueghel's pieces, for example. >http://www.answers.com/topic/netherlandish-proverbs The written word is the only source to clear that matter up. Verbal colloquialisms only live as long as people. Most Americans would not know what you meant by "bee's knees" today, although the phrase was in common use only 50 years ago. 50 years from now, an early modern work of art or design might be appreciated, but they might be baffled about why the piece emphasizes the knees of a bee.
>I have been studying Jan Steen's works for a couple of weeks now - >fascinating stuff! Still, I just know there are hidden meanings in [quoted text clipped - 10 lines] > >http://cgfa.sunsite.dk/steen/p-steen11.htm Looks like an orange, and may be peeled as an air-freshener. Today, we only use the meat or juice of citrus fruits, but they were highly prized in past centuries because of their aromatic skin. As spices slowly became more available in Europe, a useful technique for perfuming a room was to stick whole clove stalks into an orange, set it on a plate, then let it decompose for a few weeks. It really does work.
The thing near the citrus fruit in question is a dog, who we know will not eat it. The open window shows leafed trees, so it's sometime from April to September. In the main room, the kavalier is being pampered by a servant shucking oysters and a comely maid offering wine. A boy refills a wine flask, two goblets sit on the floor behind him, and two men play a boardgame in the aft room.
On the main table, draped by a carpet, there is no meat. Bread has been barely nibbled, but there is an empty serving platter under the maid's outstretched arm. Just to drive the point home, an empty oystershell occupies the foreground on that corner of the table.
>The oysters were probably suggestive of debauchery, as they are today, >but the lemon is a mystery. That has got to be Jan himself sitting >next to the fireplace, chortling at us from history. Sure he's chortling... he's drunk. The forescene is all about excess. He looks drunk, he's getting a drink, and a full new pitcher of wine is being prepared for him. He is holding his utensil horizontally, suggesting that he has an oyster on it right now, a fresh one is being shucked for him, and the room is littered with evidence that a large oysterfeast has already occurred.
Also note that the nude female in the art above the hearth is exactly above the servingmaid, perfectly balancing the godess's billowing veil with the wench's outstretched hand.
The only message i see is "eat, drink, and be merry with the serving girl."
>Looks like a game of backgammon going on through the open doorway, I can't see that it's backgammon, but it is obviously a gaming table of some sort. It just adds to the forescene, saying that the kavalier at the heart of the action has every bachelor's dream: wenches, wine, and buddies to fire up the Playstation with.
>and for some reason Steen's characters are always holding their >wineglasses by the bottom part of the stem. Could be a meaning there; >could be it just keeps the wine cooler. Dunno. No hidden meaning there; it's just proper serving form. Obviously this doesn't matter if wine is not served at the correct temperature, but the best practice is to serve a glass while grasping the base, so the recipient can grasp it by the stem. Holding a wineglass by the stem keeps heat from the hand away from the liquid. After all, that's why the stemmed glass was invented.
That's what our serving maid is doing here, offering the glass by holding the base. It just reinforces the effect: the kavalier doesn't just have everything, he has the *best* of everything. His wenches know polite maneuvers, he eats oysters not mutton, and his buddies clear out to the gameroom when he wants to have his fun.
>The painting above the fireplace is suggestive of something, >but I cannot place it. Yeah, i'm having trouble placing that image too. Could be Diana, associated with the moon and stretching a crescent moon into a bow since Diana is also goddess of the hunt. As strange as it is to say, I seem to recall seeing a similar figure as a hood ornament on an antique automobile.
>And what about the 'sawhorse' looking thingee in the one below? On the >top of the building at the center of the picture where the woman is [quoted text clipped - 3 lines] > >Perhaps the vines are growing to/from it? Dunno. I have absolutely no idea. And look at the spike at the rightmost peak of the roof. This is 1653, so it can't be a lightning rod, can it? My guess would be a local tradition/superstition caught Steen's eye. The vines are clearly not suspended from it, but have grown towards it. Perhaps it's a perch for birds, to discourage them from building nests in the eaves?
SL
Toady Lickspittle - 06 Sep 2007 22:42 GMT >>The painting above the fireplace ... Thanks again for an enlightening response. Just guessing on the painting, but it looks enough like the one below to be a good guess. One can assume Steen was familiar with it, given the date of c. 1615:
http://www.insecula.com/us/oeuvre/photo_ME0000059214.html
And the theme of easy come easy go fits as well.
Scaly Lizard - 07 Sep 2007 06:15 GMT >>>The painting above the fireplace ... > [quoted text clipped - 6 lines] > >And the theme of easy come easy go fits as well. You're right, that's Fortuna/Tyche in the Steen. In the Francken, it's clearly her, posed on a ball and even without a cornucopia, she's shooting abundance right out of her hand, which is bizarre. No rudder, no wheel, but the billowed cloth might be a sail, filling the allegorical role of Tyche's usual rudder: let the sea carry you where it will.
In the Steen, she might be standing on a ball, with one foot higher on something that might be a gaming die with the face of 5 showing. This would also make sense for Tyche, but the biggest clue is the pose and billowed cloth, identical to Francken's impression of Tyche 40-something years earlier.
Interesting that Steen's dog shows up in almost all of his work, sometimes as the comic relief and other times as the only sober thing in the scene.
SL
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