The Library Collection of the Waqf of Ahmed Agha in Mostar From the Mid-17th Century

본고는 판소리에서 엇중모리 대목이 확립되는 시기와 그 이후의 전승과정에 대해 사설 및 배치되는 위치, 그리고 음악적 특징과 관련해 살펴보았다. 엇중모리장단 대목이 포함된 판소리 관련 문헌자료와 음원자료를 대상으로, 문헌자료의 경우 장단이 병기된 판소리 창본들을, 음원자료의 경우 엇중모리장단 대목이 녹음된 음반자료들을 중심으로 다루었다. 그 결과 20세기 전반에 걸쳐 시기에 따라 엇중모리 대목의 전승 양상에 변화가 있음을 알 수 있었다. 20세기 초중반의 엇중모리 대목은 심정순과 김여란의 창본에서 살펴볼 수 있었으며 판소리 한바탕에서 특정 사설과 결합하지 않고 여러 대목에 산재하는 형태로 등장한다. 이후 20세기 중반을 지나면서 엇중모리 대목은 창자별, 바탕별 차이는 있으나 대개 한 바탕에서의 엇중모리 대목이 한 두 대목으로 축소된다. 이 시기는 대개 엇중모리 대목이 축소되는 방향성을 보여주지만 김연수의 경우만 예외적으로 엇중모리 대목의 수가 다른 유파나 창자들에 비해 추가된다. 김연수의 제자인 오정숙에게도 공통적으로 나타나는 엇중모리 대목 수의 추가는 김연수가 작창한 대목이다. 엇중모리 대목이 축소되는 방향성은 20세기 중후반을 거치면서 특정 사설과의 결합으로 모아지는데, 대표적인 사설이 판소리 한바탕의 끝을 맺는 후일담이다. 그밖에 춘향가 중 월매 과거 내력, 수궁가 상좌다툼 중 까마귀 내력과 같은 사설과도 결합하여 ‘○○내력 사설’형태로 나타난다. 그러나 이 시기의 후일담은 종종 다른 장단으로 불리기도 했는데 정응민, 박봉술의 창본이나 임방울의 적벽가 음반을 보면 후일담이 중모리로 부르고 있어 좋은 예라 하겠다. 엇중모리 대목이 축소되는 과정 이후인 20세기 말이 되면 특정 사설과의 결합으로 모아졌던 엇중모리 대목이 완전히 고착화되어 변함없이 전승양상을 보여준다. 20세기 말은 20세기 중·후반에서 후일담이 엇중모리를 포함하여 중중모리, 중모리, 엇모리 등의 장단으로 불렸던 것이 모두 엇중모리로 고착화되는 시기로 이로써 후일담이 엇중모리 대목으로 정착하게 된다. 한편 엇중모리 대목의 음악적 특징은 유파나 창자에 관계없이 전반적인 공통점을 보여주었다. 출현음 중에서 일회적 출현을 하는 음을 제외하면 ‘솔’, ‘도 ’, ‘레 ’, ‘미 ’, ‘파 ’, ‘솔 ’, ‘라 ’의 출현음을 보여주고 모두 ‘도’로 종지한다. 시김새나 요성이 다른 대목들에 비해 전반적으로 적은 편이나 솔 - 도 의 진행에서 추성이 일부 나타나고, ‘미 ’-‘레 ’-‘도 ’ 또는 ‘솔 ’-‘레 ’-‘도 ’ 로 순차하행시 ‘레 ’에 굵은 요성이 특징적이다. 선율적 특징은 도약 진행과 순차적 하강진행을 꼽을 수 있는데 도약진행은 방향에 관계없이 주로 4도, 5도 도약이 많고 순차적 하강진행은 시김새나 동음반복을 만들어낸다. 이러한 음악적 특징은 우조의 특징과 같으며 오늘날 확인되는 판소리 엇중모리의 보편적인 특성이다. 이를 통해 엇중모리 대목의 사설이 고착되는 과정과 달리 음악적 특징은 큰 변화 없이 전승된 것을 알 수 있었다. 즉, 판소리에서 엇중모리 장단 대목이 각 바탕의 가장 마지막에 사용되고, 해당 사설로 주로 후일담을 부르게 된 것은 20세기 중반이고 이러한 형태가 완전히 고착화 된 것은 20세기 후반이라 할 수 있겠지만, 그 음악적 특징은 엇중모리 장단 대목의 생성 이후 변화 없이 전승된 것으로 보인다. 즉, 판소리 엇중모리장단 대목의 전승에 있어서는 그 음악적 특징은 별다른 변화가 없었으며, 사설 내용과 그 대목이 불리는 위치가 20세기 중반 이후 오늘날과 같이 확립되고 그 이후 고착화되는 과정을 거쳤다고 할 수 있겠다.This paper examines the lyrics, the positioning, and the musical features of eotjungmori passage in pansori starting from the period that it was established through its hand-down process afterwards. In this study, we analyzed pansori related literature, mainly the change in rhythmic structure evinced in musical transcriptions of pansori, and audio materials that included recordings of passages with eotjungmori rhythm. As a result, it was found that there was a change in the hand-down pattern of eotjungmori passage through the first half of the 20th century. In the early and mid 20th century, eotjungmori passages can be found in the musical transcriptions of Shim Chong-sun and Kim Yeo-ran. In pansori batang (story), it appears not in conjunction with particular lyrics but is scattered in various passages. After the mid 20th century, while there are differences depending on the singer or batang, the number of eotjungmori passages has generally been reduced to one or two per batang. Although this period usually shows a trend toward reduction in the number of eotjungmori passages, Kim Yeon-soo’s works illustrate an increase, differing from other schools and singers at the time. Likewise, the addition of eotjungmori passages in the performances of Oh Jung-suk can be attributed to those composed by her mentor Kim Yeon-soo. The tendency of reduction in the number of eotjungmori passages converges to combine with particular lyrics through the mid and late 20th century. A good example is the epilogue (huildam) that concludes pansori performance. In addition, it also appears in the form of some ‘background lyrics’ by combining with lyrics such as background lyrics for Chunhyang’s mother in Chunhyangga or background lyrics for the crow in fighting for high seat scene in Soogoongga. However, the epilogue in this era is often referred to as a different rhythmic pattern. For example, in recordings by Jung Ung-min, Park Bongsul or of Lim Bang-ul’s Jeokbyeokga, the epilogue called Jungmori. After the reduction of the number of eotjungmori passages at the end of the 20th century, eotjungmori passages that converged to combine with a particular lyric became completely fixed while still exhibiting a hand-down pattern. The end of the 20th century was the time when the terminology for the epilogue that had been referred to by various names including eotjungmori, jungjungmori, jungmori, and eotmori through mid and late 20th century became standardized as eotjungmori. On the other hand, the musical features of eotjungmori passages showed a general similarity regardless of the school or singer. Except for the sound that makes a one-time appearance among the emergent sounds, eotjungmori passages contain the sound of “sol,” “do ”, “re ”, “mi ”, “fa ”, “sol ”, “la ” and all end with “do ”. In comparison to other passages, the appearances of sigimsae or yoseong are relatively rare, but there are some suggestions of chuseong in the progression of “So”-“Do.” Also, in sequential descent progression such as “mi ”-“re ”-“do ” or “sol ”-“re ”-“do ”, it is characterized by a thick yoseong of “re .” The main melodic features are leap progression and sequential descent progression. For leap progression, regardless of the direction of the leap, the leap is mainly 4 or 5 intervals, and sequential descent progression leads to sigimsae or repetition of same note. These musical features are the characteristics of ujo and are universal characteristics of pansori eotjungmori which are commonly found today. Through this, it was found that the musical features were passed down without a great change, unlike the process in which the lyric of eotjungmori passage became fixed. In other words, it is in the middle of the 20th century that passages with eotjungmori rhythm in pansori were used at the end of each batang and the epilogue was typically sung in place of lyrics.

The Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation (AMOC) is a driving force in the redistribution of heat on our planet and has a particularly large impact on the climate of the Northern Hemisphere and Europe. Reliability of coupled model projections has been questioned due to a body of evidence that the multi-model mean of climate models disagree with observational proxies for the AMOC, in particular in the mid-20th century. In turn, the reliability of these observational proxies has been questioned as they are not direct observations of the AMOC.In order to study the variations of AMOC during the 20th century, we have developed layered models based on a limited number of time series: Ekman transport and the Florida Strait, as well as the density time series of the Thermocline, Antarctic Intermediate Waters (AAIW), Upper North Atlantic and Lower North Atlantic Deep Waters (UNADW, LNADW). These models, using the deep AMOC branches, are trained with modern RAPID measurements at 26N and compared to each other.We use these models to predict, from hydrographic profiles, an estimate of the strength of the AMOC during the (mid) 20th century. Locations where EN4 profiles may be relevant to the reconstruction are identified using ocean model data that correlate temperature and salinity with the location of the RAPID measurement. The linear contribution of wind stress is also removed from the density time series using simple linear regression. Our aim is to provide, in the light of modern direct observations, an answer on the reliability of AMOC reconstructions and historical climate simulations during the mid-20th century.

In this article I make an attempt to determine the function of a so-far unpublished small painting unknown also for professionals. The painting is from the former collection of Rudolf Bedő (1891-1978); the present-day trustees of the remnant of the collection register it as “French master, around 1700: Mythological scene” (fig. 1). The small composition on painter’s cardboard shows a Triton riding on dolphins and blowing a conch horn, and a putto. The characters have been popular in art works and literature since Antiquity; in mythological scenes they belong to the escort of sea nymphs or mermaids. A first sight at the picture painted as trompe-l’oeil, in grisaille, already suggested that it was related to French art, but as for the school and time of creation more caution was called for by several details. On the one hand, there is a painted label possibly with Hungarian inscription in the bottom right-hand corner, and on the other hand, the execution of the surface gives a more modern impression than works of the 18 th century. I managed to find the original composition, a monumental relief by Claude-Michel or Clodion (1738-1814). The relief was designed for the garden façade of the mansion built by Alexandre-Théodore Brongniart in 1775-79 for the general treasurer of the Artillery and Military Engineering Jacques-Louis Bouret de Vézelay. Its theme is Galathea’s triumph. Apart from the original stone relief, variants are known in terracotta, plaster, bronze and Sèvres biscuit (unpainted porcelain) – their great number is proof of the composition’s popularity. Besides, several trompe-l’oeil paintings can also be found, including the one from the Bedő collection. The typical core of the composition showing Galatea with a Triton riding on the back of dolphins and blowing his conch horn with putti and Nereids became the topic of separate compositions. Most of the terracotta, plaster, bronze and porcelain variants, imitations and repetitions after this scene are from the 19-20 th centuries thanks to the late 19 th century re-discovery of Clodion and the ensuing craze labelled “clodiomania”. However, from Guilhem Scherf’s investigations we know that several contemporaneous, 18 th century carved-cast variants are also identified which circulated on the early 19 th century art market in Paris. There is also a further reduced version of the Galatea composition, which only shows the Triton on dolphins and blowing his horn; one specimen can be found in the V & A Museum sculpture collection in London (fig. 2). About the painted imitations of Clodion’s reliefs Marianne Roland Michel’s thorough investigations provide a summary. Depicting reliefs in painting can be traced to early 18 th century Dutch-Flemish painting (Willem van Mieris, Mathys Neiveu), and the theme was present in French painting from the 1730s, among others, in works by Chardin and Alexandre-Francois Desportes. The efflorescence of the genre of trompe-l’oeil after sculptures and reliefs was in the last third of the 18 th century, between 1775 and 1790. The trend was inspired by Clodion’s works in great measure, as is proven by the high number of trompe-l’oeils by that-time still-life painters – Anne Vallayer-Coster, Piat-Joseph Sauvage, Jean-Jacques Bachelier, Louis-Léopold and Jules Boilly – inspired by the famous sculptor’s reliefs. Clodion’s Galatea relief has some reduced versions in painting as well. Of highest quality is the trompe-l’oeil by Louis-Léopold Boilly (1761-1845) about the central part of the terracotta version. His son Julien-Léopold (Jules) Boilly (1796-1874) followed in his father’s footsteps painting trompe-l’oeil still-lifes, and he also made a version after Clodion’s Galatea (fig. 3). These examples suggest that the diverse painted versions already began to spread in Clodion’s lifetime, in the late 18 th century. The Budapest Triton riding on dolphins and blowing a conch horn and the putto clutching his finger represent the left side of the relief as depicted by Boilly, wi th some modification. In both Clodion’s original and Boilly’s copy there is a putto with a torch in his hand hovering above the Triton, which is missing from the painting from the Bedő collection. The greyish material of the painted relief looks more like stone (or plaster) than reddish-brown terracotta as in Boilly’s painting. The imitated stone carving appears nailed to a grained board. To enhance the illusion, the painter made a few tiny changes: where the hook is fastened to it, the stone relief is chipped on the rim, and above the dolphin in the middle there is a diagonal deep scratch or crack. There is a terracotta version that cropped up in French art trade lately and that reduces the original Galatea composition to even fewer figures; this version may provide explanation for the compositional changes. Another known variant of the composition which is apparently the model of the Budapest painting is kept in the Rhode Island School of Design’s art collection in Providence (fig. 4). It is therefore presumable that a different, more reduced variation of the original Clodion composition spread during the clodiomania period, and the painting at issue was made from a presumed plaster copy of it in (Buda)Pest. Another confusing element in the trompe-l’oeil from the Bedő collection is the blue-framed painted label in the right-hand bottom corner which reads “Triton 195 Sz.” (?) (fig. 5). The detail imitating an auction or collection label emphasizes the trompe-l’oeil character and may have a role in determining the master and date of painting. On the basis of restorer’s observation, phototechnical tests (fig. 6) and the physical properties of the medium (prepared painter’s cardboard was in use from the mid-19 th century) the 18 th century origin of the painting can be excluded. The paint material is homogeneous, the luminescent image alludes to its application at one time, without subsequent corrections. The label inscribed “Triton” is synchronous with the work. It was examined what might have been the purpose of the relief imitation. Maybe it was an assignment to copy at the Academy, this method being a fundamental part of the formation. Just like at the art academies of Vienna and Munich, in the First Hungarian Painting Academy founded by Venice-born Jacopo Marastoni in 1846, then in the Bertalan Székely-led “curriculum” of the Hungarian Royal Drawing School and Art Teacher's College, the state institution in its wake, the copying of prints and plaster copies was ascribed great importance. The teaching method the School of Design can be inferred from the curricula: the learning of figural painting began in the first class by copying planar patterns and convex plaster models in drawing, in the second class copying plaster models in painting was the task. The training based on copying was completed by representation from live models. The register of the one-time cast collection of the school has not been found, that is why only a fragmentary idea can be had of its previous richness on the basis of surviving casts, visual aids, interior photos and replicas of art objects. Painted copies from plaster casts were also made in Marastoni’s private academy in Pest in the mid-19 th century. An excellent example is the grisaille copy of a relief by the 17 th century Flemish-French sculptor Francois du Quesnoy (1597-1643) painted by József Marastoni, the son of the Academy’s professor (fig. 7). Though plaster casts had been among the customary paraphernalia of artists’ ateliers for centuries, the painted label included in the studied trompe-l’oeil alludes rather to a numbered piece in a public collection, so it was much rather a part of a collection for educational purposes than a piece in the private collection of an artist used as a model. By way of an analogy it can be mentioned that the method of identification among the plaster casts in Schola Graphidis of the high school of the Hungarian University of Art is a blue-framed label stuck to a plaster piece indicating the maker, theme, and inventory number (fig. 9). The anatomical casts of the Hungarian University of Fine Arts are similarly identified. The Hungarian institutions of education ordered the casts from catalogues of casting workshops in Vienna and Stuttgart. The selected models arrived in the schools via diverse book and stationary traders, right until the opening of similar casting foundry in Budapest in the last decade of the 19 th century. Casting workshops were first opened in the Hungarian capital in the 1880s on West European examples and on their repertoire. They were predominantly established next to schools for the building trade in support of training activity. An idea can be had of their supply on the basis of the surviving price lists of the casting shop next to the State Paedagogium founded in 1886 and the shop next to the Higher Architectural School (Higher School of Design). In the price list of both workshops there is a piece designated as “Triton, modern French relief, 35×18 cm”. Though no illustration is give unfortunately, the size of the painted plaster model in the studied painting (19×37.5 cm) is conspicuously close to the one in the catalogue. I think that the undiminished popularity of Clodion at the turn of the century and the similarity of the size support the assumption that the price list includes the plaster cast we have been searching for.

The formalisation of the Anthropocene as a subdivision of the Geological Time Scale has been under debate. Its stratigraphic boundary has been proposed as a precise Global boundary Stratotype Section and Point (GSSP) in the mid-20th century, but it is part of an episode of human-induced changes to the Earth System that have unfolded over millennia. Here we attempt to identify stratigraphical patterns of the Anthropocene from a previously well studied lake sedimentary archive from the English Midlands, located in one of the most heavily human-modified landscapes in the UK, and the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. Our analysis is predicated on the sedimentary succession of Groby Pool, a small lake situated to the immediate northwest of Leicester. We have found that whilst proxy signals for biotic change are indicative of significant landscape and consequent ecological changes prior to the 20th century, the signal from radiogenic fallout and rapid increase in spheroidal carbonaceous particles indicative of fossil-fuel combustion yield a clear mid and later 20th century stratigraphical signature that corresponds with the Great Acceleration of the post-WWII period. We therefore demonstrate clear stratigraphical signatures in the oldest Industrial Revolution landscape on Earth that are consistent with a mid-20th century start point for the Anthropocene.

Introduction. The focus of this work is the Inchiesta Innocenziana (Enquiry by Pope Innocenzo the 10th) upon the monasteries of the Italian States in the mid-17th century. Aim of the work. This study intends to demonstrate that in the Church, in the mid- 17th century - around one century later than in the European States - economics is introduced in the art of government as the correct manner of managing individ- uals, goods, and wealth in action at a distance. Methodological approach. The study is based on the investigation of primary and secondary sources related to the Inchiesta Innocenziana. The study analyses the various aspects and specially chosen techniques which, in a period of crisis, led the Catholic Church to run one of the first large-scale ‘auditing' upon its ‘branches' (monasteries) located within the Italian States. Main findings. It is shown, through an interpretative approach, how the Church worked inspired, not by the Law of God (human, natural, and divine), but by the art of governing people, as described by Foucault, giving techniques and practices for a concrete form of political rationality. Originality. The paper considers the relevant emergence of accounting and accountability practices, in a power/knowledge scheme, in decisions regarding a reconstruction after a crisis, by a complex interacting organisation such as the Catholic Church of the mid-17th century.

Although at least thirty-five women were buried in the earlier necropolis at Vron during the period between ca. 370 / 75 and ca. 435 / 45, only three of them were equipped with typically Germanic brooches or other elements of dress. Such a low proportion of women whose dress was secured according to the Germanic custom by means of brooches, is not unusual in the burial sites of Northern Gaul, and indeed clearly distinguishes these from the burial grounds on the right bank of the Rhine in free Germania, where practically all the women used one or more brooches to fasten their clothing, and were subsequently buried with them. The evidence from Vron, as from other comparable military burial sites to the west of the Rhine (e.g. Oudenburg, Vermand, Vireux-Molhain), attesting how few women were buried with brooch jewellery , may indicate either that in actual fact very few Germanic women had accompanied their men-folk into Northern Gaul, or that the majority of women of barbaric origin had, in the process of cultural assimilation, abandoned their exotic costume at a very early date and now favoured Gallo-Roman dress. Among the typically Germanic dress ornaments observed at Vron, one may distinguish five different brooch types and one hairpin type, analysed below: 1. Simple cross-bow brooches belong to the most frequently attested and geographically widespread group of Germanic women's brooches in the 4 th and 5 th centuries (mid-4 th to mid-5 th centuries) between the Elbe and the Loire (fig. 2). They are almost invariably made of bronze, as are the two examples from Grave 163A and Pit 9. The brooch from Grave 163A, worn as a single item, is remarkable for its greater length, its short spring, and upper chord. These rather unusual features appear most frequently in the simple cross-bow brooches from the Lower Rhine and Westphalia. There, this unusual form may be dated chiefly to the first half of the 5 th century. This corresponds to the chronology proposed by Cl. Seillier, who attributes, on other evidence, Grave 163A to his Phase 3 (= ca.415/20-435/45). 2. Cross-bow brooches with a trapezoid foot-plate represent a further typological development of the simple cross-bow brooch. The silver brooch from Grave 242A possesses in addition a beaded wire decoration on the bow, together with a stamped metal plaque covering the trapezoid foot-plate, features which enable it to be classed with the Vert-la-Gravelle variant (fig. 3). This form of brooch, known almost exclusively by the archaeological evidence from the left bank of the Rhine is probably to be interpreted as the product of workshops in Northern Gaul, which are known to have manufactured other types of Germanic costume ornaments for the wives of foederati (see below). Comparison with the very similar brooches from Grave 7 at Vert-la-Gravelle (Mame) enable this example from Vron to be dated at the earliest to the last third of the 4 th century or to the turn of the century. The location of the inhumation within the burial ground suggests a date within Seillier's Phase 2 (= ca. 390-415/20). 3. The bronze hairpin from the same grave, over 17 cm long, with a small round head, belongs to the Fecamp type (fig. 4), known chiefly from the Germanic female burials and other archaeological evidence found in Westphalia and the Lower Rhine.

In the past 35 years or so, scores of theories, some bordering on legend, have emerged about the origin of the earliest known authentic representation of the Holy Crown of Hungary. Systematic historical and art historical research, however, has reconstructed convincingly the circumstances of its creation. Contrary to the majority of assumptions proposed until now, it can now be safely declared that the earliest representation of the Hungarian crown jewel has nothing to do with the – actually fictitious – possession of the crown by the Fugger family in the mid-15th century. The handwritten work namely, in which the image survived, is not a Fuggerchronik of Munich but the history of the Habsburg dynasty (Ehrenspiegel des Hauses Österreich) written for the family of the great merchant banker, Johann Jakob Fugger (1516–1575) by the self-taught town historian, genealogist and heraldist Clemens Jäger from Augsburg (c. 1500–1561). The two-tome manuscript of nearly 800 folios with thousands of coats of arms and hundreds of illuminations is preserved in the Bavarian State Library in Munich. The earliest known depiction of the crown was made replicas of which were unknown until recently but were identified by the authors in three richly illuminated handwritten copies of the Ehrenspiegel. All were made in Innsbruck as the outcome of the court art and art patronage of the archdukes Ferdinand and Maximilian of Tyrol in the late 16th and early 17th century. By dating the manuscripts kept today in Munich, Vienna and Dresden more accurately and analysing the crown depictions in them, the – until recently – controversial chronology of the Ehrenspiegel copies could be clarified reassuringly. A revised version commissioned by Emperor Leopold I was completed by 1668 and was also released in print by the Endter press in Nuremberg with “updated” text by the German poet Sigmund von Birken. This version also included the image of the Hungarian crown, but the publisher replaced the 16th century depiction with a more up-to-date one. It adopted the crown representation on the title-page of Mausoleum (printed in Nuremberg 1664), a series of Hungarian ruler portraits completed a little earlier upon commission from a Hungarian aristocrat and art patron, Chief Justice of Hungary (1655–1671), Count Ferenc Nádasdy. It must be attributed to the publisher’s demand for authenticity that added to the crown from the Mausoleum, which in basic forms emulated the crown image illustrating the famous tract of guardian of the crown Péter Révay published in Augsburg 1613 (De Sacrae Coronae regni Hungariae ortu... Commentarius) and reformulated several times later, he also enclosed the title-page of the politics historical work by Martin Schödel (Respublica et status Regni Hungariae, Leiden 1634) for the purpose of providing more accurate material details. A German handwritten petition by Clemens Jäger, the author of the Habsburg family history, for a coat of arms and crown representation has been recovered in the Austrian National Library in Vienna. In it he was inquiring about the Holy Crown with reference to the work (Rerum Ungaricarum decades) of the Italian historiographer of Matthias Corvinus, the noted humanist Antonio Bonfini. This source permits us to declare: the earliest authentic representation of the Hungarian crown was made in Augsburg between April 1553 (the terminus post quem for the sending of the petition from Augsburg to Vienna) and November 1561 (the death of Jäger). Confuting earlier presumptions we can contend that instead of some mid-15th or early 16th century model, Jäger used a wholly contemporary reproduction. It showed the crown kept in the Habsburg court in Vienna from the beginning of September 1551 depicted – if we are not mistaken – by the copperplate engraver and draughtsman of antiquities (Antiquitetabconterfetter) Hans Sebald Lautensack served in Vienna from August 1554, who was in close contact with the famous Vienna court historiographer who also knew Jäger, Wolfgang Lazius. Lautensack also engraved a portrait of Lazius in 1554. Some data suggest that our safe dating (1553–1561) can be reduced to the interval between the late summer of 1554 and 1556, between the beginning of Lautensack’s service in Vienna and the publication of the historian Lazius’s great map of Hungary (1556), the latter adorned with a Holy Crown with pendants. To conclude, the earliest detailed and authentic representation of the Hungarian crown was the outcome of the collaboration of Central European historiographers, first of all historians of Augsburg and Vienna, genealogists, heraldists and engravers, without the involvement of Hungarians, as far as we know. Not that this fact would reduce in any way its outstanding significance or peculiar value.

In the 19th and 20th centuries, southern Africa’s white colonists used the word ‘Caffre’ to characterise the region’s black majority as an inferior race of African origins. While this historical context explains why the term ‘Caffre’ is considered hate speech in post-apartheid South Africa, the word’s history dates back to the beginning of Europe’s engagement with the region in c. 1500. Based on primary sources in multiple languages, this article explores this deeper history and shows that Europeans imbued the word ‘Caffre’ with racialising ideas from the start. The Portuguese first racialised the term by linking it explicitly to black skin colour in the 16th century. In the 17th century, Cape Colony officials reinforced its racialisation by creating a ‘Hottentot–Caffre’ race dichotomy, a racial divide of long-term significance in southern African history. By the end of the 18th century, most European naturalists argued that ‘Caffre’ identified a people racially distinct from ‘Hottentots’ and ‘true Negroes’, an idea that shaped missionary approaches to Bible translation in the region until the mid 19th century. Moreover, naturalists rationalised these alleged racial differences by placing the origins of the ‘Caffres’ outside the African continent, thereby effectively defining them as a superior race of non-African provenance. The word’s deeper history, therefore, exposes a major transformation in meaning over the course of the 19th century: whereas the word ‘Caffre’ represented a superior race of non-African origin in 1800, it described an inferior race of African origin in 1900. Because the radical change in meaning parallels the process of black political and economic disempowerment in southern Africa, the article suggests that the term became directly implicated in and transformed by this process and, for this reason, should be viewed as a valuable historical record of the establishment of white supremacist rule in the region.

The purpose of this study was to investigate changes in the cooking process of <TEX>$Bibimbab$</TEX>(cooked rice mixed with various ingredients) appeared in cook books published after Korean modern era, approximately from late 19th century to the present. 7 cook books were chosen to be analyzed. It is found that the ingredients were mixed with the rice before being served in the cook books written in late 19th century until mid 20th century, while the ingredients were separately decorated on top of the rice in the cook books written from mid 20th century until late 20th century. <TEX>$Gochujang$</TEX>(Korean chilly paste), which is common spicy seasoning for <TEX>$Bibimbab$</TEX> in the present time, appeared only in <TEX>$Hangukeumak$</TEX>(1987) which is written in late 20th century. Prior to <TEX>$Hangukeumak$</TEX>(1987), chilly powder or chilly was used for chilly-based spicy seasoning. Cook books written in late 19th century until mid 20th century, ingredients used for <TEX>$Bibimbab$</TEX> had complicated cooking methods such as <TEX>$Jeonyueo$</TEX>(assorted pan-fried delicacies), <TEX>$Nurumi$</TEX>(fried beef skewer with various vegetables) and <TEX>$Sanjeok$</TEX>(grilled beef skewer). From mid 20th century until late 20th century, among the cook books analyzed in this research, only <TEX>$Hankukyoribaekguasajeon$</TEX>(1976) suggested <TEX>$Jeonyueo$</TEX> as an ingredient, and in general, the cooking method for preparing beef became simpler. For further studies, firstly, the cooking procedures used for <TEX>$Bibimbab$</TEX> in the prior period to the Korean modern era need to be examined for more information about the changes of cooking style of <TEX>$Bibimbab$</TEX>. Secondly, new <TEX>$Bibimbab$</TEX> recipes for modern restaurants could be created by using the recipes used in the historical cook books. Finally, the definitions of culinary terms used in historical cook books need to be clarified.

The University of Tartu Museum’s laboratory porcelain collection mostly includes items that were purchased for the University of Tartu laboratories for research (substance analysis etc.) and teaching purposes (for performing practical tasks such as making medicines). The porcelain collections in Estonian museums (the Mikkel Museum, Art Museum of Estonia and Estonian History Museum) mainly consist of tableware, ornaments and memorabilia. Several museums (e.g., in Saare and Järva Counties) have apothecary ware. The University of Tartu Museum’s laboratory porcelain collection reflects the evolution of ceramics in the general historical development of chemistry and pharmaceutical laboratories. The oldest items were likely ordered by two professors active in the 19th century: Carl Schmidt (1822–1894, Professor of Chemistry 1852–1892) and Georg Dragendorf 1836–1898, Professor of Pharmacy). Both professors had the opportunity to renew their laboratory equipment in the middle of the 19th century, which they did. The most valued part of the collection is the vast selection of older porcelain items from the Institute of Pharmacy, created in 1844. The collection of laboratory porcelain has accumulated over the years and it currently consists of more than 1,000 items. The oldest pieces ordered for the University of Tartu laboratories date from the mid-19th century, starting from 1844–1847 (Köningliche Porzellan Manufaktur Berlin). The porcelain items that were ordered for the University in the 19th century and the early 20th century come from other sources, too, mainly from German companies such as Staatliche Porzellan-Manufaktur Meissen, Sanitäts-Porzellan Manufactur W. Haldenwanger and Spandau. The grog and stoneware purchased for the chemistry laboratory at the same time also came from other parts of Europe (the United Kingdom and France). The porcelain labware purchased after World War II starting from the 1950s and 1960s mainly came from the porcelain factories of Leningrad and Riga and Klin in Moscow Oblast. The product list and its changes are reflected in catalogues issued by porcelain companies, which were also used for determining the names and details of the porcelain items discussed in this overview. The collection only has a few items produced by Europe’s oldest porcelain manufacturer Meissen. Most of the items from the older period bear the marking of the Royal Porcelain Factory in Berlin, which was one of the main porcelain manufacturers in Germany apart from Meissen. The list of items from W. Haldenwanger’s porcelain factory is also varied. Apart from a few exceptions, the laboratory porcelain from the second half of the 20th century mainly comes from the porcelain factories of St. Petersburg, Riga and Klin in Moscow Oblast: the collection includes a few items from the Porcelain Factory in Leningrad and a varied selection from Riga and Klin. The products of these three factories differ from German laboratory porcelain from the late 19th and early 20th century both for the quality of the porcelain and finishing of the glazing. The later labware is visually more robust and has simpler finishing, visually resembling hard earthenware, the ingredient quantities and clay type of which can slightly differ from hard-paste porcelain. The older objects include more specific items made for special purposes while the majority of the later ones are of general nature. Many porcelain items fell into disuse due to advancements in university studies and laboratories. Pharmacist training used to include detailed courses on preparing medicines, because many products (e.g., tinctures, ointments and suppositories) that are now produced by large drug companies used to be made in pharmacies. Additionally, new special fireproof and durable materials have been introduced in the field of labware, the use of which results in different and better quality indicators than those of traditional porcelain.

Purpose. The article provides a detailed description of three sabers with wooden hilts stored in the funds of the National Museum of the Republic of Kazakhstan (PMO 3025-1.2, PMO 6265, PMO UK 8227), Astana. Results. Based on the structural analysis of the items and their design, we identified that Saber 1 from the NMRC (PMO 3025-1.2) is one of the varieties of Persian Shamshirs. The blade with the shank, garda and a wooden sheath with hoop could have been made by Iranian or, less likely, Central Asian armorers in the 18th – middle of the 19th centuries. The wooden hilt with rivets, leather-covered scabbard and a metal tip were added while the saber was in the museum collection. A distinctive feature of Saber 2 of NMRC (PMO 6265), which originates from the territory of Southern Kazakhstan, is a relatively small bending of an acute-angled blade, an authentic wooden hilt and a leather case covering the hilt. The last two elements are not typical for products of Persian craftsmen but are quite often found on the weapons of the Uzbek and Kazakh soldiers of the New Age. According to the construction and design we conclude that Saber 2 could have been made by Central Asian, or, less likely, Iranian armorers in the 18th – mid 19th centuries (in the latter case, the hilt and the cover might have been made by Uzbek or Kazakh masters). Saber 3 (ПМО УК 8227) combines the classic “shamshirs” blade and a pommel with a wooden hilt and a relatively rare version of the guard. Based on the design features, the saber is dated to the end of the 18th – mid 19th centuries. The fastening system of its “cheeks” indicates that the wooden hilt might have been made and added in the 19th century. Conclusion. The weapons of the series under review vividly illustrate the data from written sources on the prevalence of sabers with long blades imported from Iran and Central Asia among Kazakh soldiers during the 18th – 19th centuries.

"10 Mid 10th and 11th centuries.—Efforts by Wulsin (fl. mid 10th century) and Leofstan (d. 1064-1066), abbots of St. Albans Abbey, to stimulate the development of the town of St. Albans, as described in the Gesta Abbatum Monasterii Sancti Albani (13th century)" published on 01 Jan 1988 by Brill.

The turbulent past has marked the entire area of Bosnia and Herzegovina, especially its peripheral parts, which were often influenced by violent demographic changes, reflecting on various population structures. The wider area of Podrinje was affected by forced migrations of the Bosniak population during the 19th and 20th centuries. The expulsion of Bosniaks from the Principality of Serbia in the early 1830s significantly impacted the demographic structures of the Bosnian Podrinje region, especially the Osat region. This study does not explore various anthropogeographic changes in the settlement of Pribidol, whether they occurred during normal or forced social events, but rather investigates the process of family formation and households during the 19th century. The most important historical sources used for the mentioned research are: the Ottoman census of male household members of the Srebrenica District in 1850/51, the Ottoman cadaster of 1867/75, the list of residential property owners from 1880/84, as well as the land registry books of the Srebrenica District in 1894. This study explored the families that lived in the settlement of Pribidol during the 19th century. These are the following families: Ahmetović, Aljić, Begić, Dervišević, Džananović, Halilović, Husić, Ibišević, Ibrahimović, Janković, Marković, Mešanović, Mitrović, Muminović, Mustafić, Osmanović, Salkić, and Smajić. In the Muslim area of Pribidol, 19 households, or family households, were recorded, with a total of 79 male individuals, with an average age of 20.1 years. In the then-independent settlement of Pribidol, 15 households were recorded, with 59 male individuals, with an average age of 19.0 years. In the Barakovići mahalla, 3 households were recorded, with 14 male individuals, and in the independent settlement of Zgunja, one household was recorded with a total of 6 male individuals. Therefore, the total population of Bosniak Pribidol was around 160 individuals of both sexes. During the conducted census in 1850/51, only two families had a family surname, which changed in the early 1880s. According to the 1879 census in the settlement of Gaj (Turkish Pribidol), there were 171 inhabitants (93 male individuals) all of Bosniak nationality. There were 25 houses and an equal number of apartments in the settlement, with an average of 6.8 individuals per household. The 1895 census recorded 315 inhabitants (158 male individuals). There were 255 Bosniaks and 60 Orthodox inhabitants. There were a total of 50 houses (2 uninhabited) with 50 households - an average size of 6.3 members. Between 1850/51 and 1895, there was a significant increase in the population of the settlement of Pribidol, especially in the last census of 1895. This growth was conditioned by the settlement of Orthodox inhabitants, who constituted 25% of the total population in 1895. The list of residential property owners from 1880/84 identified three new mahallas (Kadrići, Podševar, and Živkovići) compared to the census of 1850/51. These Bosniak families of the settlement of Pribidol persisted throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, either through male or female lines, except for changes in the family surname among married female inhabitants. Some family surnames ceased to exist in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, either due to the extinction of their male members or their emigration from the settlement of Pribidol. This particularly applies to families with the surnames Ahmetović, Halilović, and Mešanović. The number of households (families) increased among other Bosniak families until the mid-20th century, and some of their members moved to other settlements in the Podrinje region, primarily around the cities of Bijeljina, Bratunac, and Srebrenica.

The ideas put forth here do not fit perfectly or entirely into the genre and form of what has established itself as the scholarly journal article. What is put forth, instead, is a juxtaposition of lines of thinking about the scholarly and popular in publishing, past, present and future. As such it may indeed be quite appropriate to the occasion and the questions raised in the call for papers for this special issue of M/C Journal. The ideas put forth here are intended as pieces of an ever-changing puzzle of the making public of scholarship, which, I hope, may in some way fit with both the work of others in this special issue and in the discourse more broadly. The first line of thinking presented takes the form of an historical overview of publishing as context to consider a second line of thinking about the current status and future of publishing. The historical context serves as reminder (and cause for celebration) that publishing has not yet perished, contrary to continued doomsday sooth-saying that has come with each new medium since the advent of print. Instead, publishing has continued to transform and it is precisely the transformation of print, print culture and reading publics that are the focus of this article, in particular, in relation to the question of the boundaries between the scholarly and the popular. What follows is a juxtaposition that is part of an investigation in progress. Presented first, therefore, is a mapping of shifts in print culture from the time of Gutenberg to the twentieth century; second, is a contemporary snapshot of the editorial mandates of more than one hundred member journals of the Canadian Association of Learned Journals (CALJ). What such juxtaposition is able to reveal is open to interpretation, of course. And indeed, as I proceed in my investigation of publishing past, present and future, my interpretations are many. The juxtaposition raises a number of issues: of communities of readers and the cultures of reading publics; of privileged and marginalised texts (as well as their authors and their readers); of access and reach (whether in terms of what is quantifiable or in a much more subtle but equally important sense). In Canada, at present, these issues are also intertwined with changes to research funding policies and some attention is given at the end of this article to the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) of Canada and its recent/current shift in funding policy. Curiously, current shifts in funding policies, considered alongside an historical overview of publishing, would suggest that although publishing continues to transform, at the same time, as they say, plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Republics of Letters and Ghosts in Machines Republics of Letters that formed after the advent of the printing press can be conjured up as distant and almost mythical communities of elite literates, ghosts almost lost in a Gutenberg galaxy that today encompasses (and is embodied in) schools, bookshelves, and digital archives in many places across the globe. Conjuring up ghosts of histories past seems always to reveal ironies, and indeed some of the most interesting ironies of the Gutenberg galaxy involve McLuhanesque reversals or, if not full reversals, then in the least some notably sharp turns. There is a need to define some boundaries (and terms) in the framing of the tracing that follows. Given that the time frame in question spans more than five hundred years (from the advent of Gutenberg’s printing press in the fifteenth century to the turn of the 21st century), the tracing must necessarily be done in broad strokes. With regard to what is meant by the “making public of scholarship” in this paper, by “making public” I refer to accounts historians have given in their attempts to reconstruct a history of what was published either in the periodical press or in books. With regard to scholarship (and the making public of it), as with many things in the history of publishing (or any history), this means different things in different times and in different places. The changing meanings of what can be termed “scholarship” and where and how it historically has been made public are the cornerstones on which this article (and a history of the making public of scholarship) turn. The structure of this paper is loosely chronological and is limited to the print cultures and reading publics in France, Britain, and what would eventually be called the US and Canada, and what follows here is an overview of changes in how scholarly and popular texts and publics are variously defined over the course of history. The Construction of Reading Publics and Print Culture In any consideration of “print culture” and reading publics, historical or contemporary, there are two guiding principles that historians suggest should be kept in mind, and, though these may seem self-evident, they are worth stating explicitly (perhaps precisely because they seem self-evident). The first is a reminder from Adrian Johns that “the very identity of print itself has had to be made” (2 italics in original). Just as the identity of print cultures are made, similarly, a history of reading publics and their identities are made, by looking to and interpreting such variables as numbers and genres of titles published and circulated, dates and locations of collections, and information on readers’ experiences of texts. Elizabeth Eisenstein offers a reminder of the “widely varying circumstances” (92) of the print revolution and an explicit acknowledgement of such circumstances provides the second, seemingly self-evident guiding principle: that the construction of reading publics and print culture must not only be understood as constructed, but also that such constructions ought not be understood as uniform. The purpose of the reconstructions of print cultures and reading publics presented here, therefore, is not to arrive at final conclusions, but rather to identify patterns that prove useful in better understanding the current status (and possible future) of publishing. The Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries—Boom, then Busted by State and Church In search of what could be termed “scholarship” following the mid-fifteenth century boom of the early days of print, given the ecclesiastical and state censorship in Britain and France and the popularity of religious texts of the 15th and 16th centuries, arguably the closest to “scholarship” that we can come is through the influence of the Italian Renaissance and the revival and translation (into Latin, and to a far lesser extent, vernacular languages) of the classics and indeed the influence of the Italian Renaissance on the “print revolution” is widely recognised by historians. Historians also recognise, however, that it was not long until “the supply of unpublished texts dried up…[yet for authors] to sell the fruits of their intellect—was not yet common practice before the late 16th century” (Febvre and Martin 160). Although this reference is to the book trade in France, in Britain, and in the regions to become the US and Canada, reading of “pious texts” was similarly predominant in the early days of print. Yet, the humanist shift throughout the 16th century is evidenced by titles produced in Paris in the first century of print: in 1501, in a total of 88 works, 53 can be categorised as religious, with 25 categorised as Latin, Greek, or Humanist authors; as compared to titles produced in 1549, in a total of 332 titles, 56 can be categorised as religious with 204 categorised as Latin, Greek, or Humanist authors (Febvre and Martin 264). The Seventeenth Century—Changes in the Political and Print Landscape In the 17th century, printers discovered that their chances of profitability (and survival) could be improved by targeting and developing a popular readership through the periodical press (its very periodicity and relative low cost both contributed to its accessibility by popular publics) in Europe as well as in North America. It is worthwhile to note, however, that “to the end of the seventeenth century, both literacy and leisure were virtually confined to scholars and ‘gentlemen’” (Steinberg 119) particularly where books were concerned and although literacy rates were still low, through the “exceptionally literate villager” there formed “hearing publics” who would have printed texts read to them (Eisenstein 93). For the literate members of the public interested not only in improving their social positions through learning, but also with intellectual (or spiritual or existential) curiosity piqued by forbidden books, it is not surprising that Descartes “wrote in French to a ‘lay audience … open to new ideas’” (Jacob 41). The 17th century also saw the publication of the first scholarly journals. There is a tension that becomes evident in the seventeenth century that can be seen as a tension characteristic of print culture, past and present: on the one hand, the housing of scholarship in scholarly journals as a genre distinct from the genre of the popular periodicals can be interpreted as a continued pattern of (elitist) divide in publics (as seen earlier between the oral and the written word, between Latin and the vernacular, between classic texts and popular texts); while, on the other hand, some thinkers/scholars of the day had an interest in reaching a wider audience, as printers always had, which led to the construction and fragmentation of audiences (whether the printer’s market for his goods or the scholar’s marketplace of ideas). The Eighteenth Century—Republics of Letters Become Concrete and Visible The 18th century saw ever-increasing literacy rates, early copyright legislation (Statute of Anne in 1709), improved printing technology, and ironically (or perhaps on the contrary, quite predictably) severe censorship that in effect led to an increased demand for forbidden books and a vibrant and interna

The historical epidemiology of global disease challenges