Archive for the ‘Curiosities’ Category

Maillardet’s Automaton

maillardet's automaton

We went to Philly for a day trip on Saturday. We got a late start so we only had time to go to the Franklin Institute which is actually pretty awesome, although we had also hoped to go to the art museum and/or see the Liberty Bell. Also, did you know the Mutter Museum is in Philly? For some reason I thought it was somewhere else in Pennsylvania. Now that I know it’s in Philly we will definitely go back for a second trip.

Anyway, the point is, Maillardet’s automaton (above) was there. Apparently when it was donated to the Franklin Institute it had been badly damaged in a fire and nobody knew what it was exactly.

When the repairs were completed and the driving motors were set in motion, the Automaton came to life. It lowered its head, positioned its pen, and began to produce elaborate sketches. Four drawings and three poems later, in the border surrounding the final poem, the Automaton clearly wrote, “Ecrit par L’Automate de Maillardet.” This translates to “Written by the Automaton of Maillardet.” Amazingly, the first clue of the true history and identity of the machine had come from its own mechanical memory!

From here. Ha ha creepy. After like 200 years and a fire and the thing still works? They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.

maillardet's automaton

The Franklin Institute’s Automaton has the largest “memory” of any such machine ever constructed—four drawings and three poems (two in French and one in English). Maillardet achieved this by placing the driving machinery in a large chest that forms the base of the machine, rather than in the Automaton’s body.

The memory is contained in the “cams,” or the brass disks… As the cams are turned by the clockwork motor, three steel fingers follow their irregular edges. The fingers translate the movements of the cams into side to side, front and back, and up and down movements of the doll’s writing hand through a complex system of levers and rods that produce the markings on paper.

I can’t even begin to understand how they figured this stuff out. But then I am not a watchmaker or mechanic of any kind, which may have something to do with it.

Stendahl Syndrome

From Wiki:

Stendhal syndrome, Stendhal’s syndrome, Hyperkulturemia, or Florence syndrome, is a psychosomatic illness that causes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, confusion and even hallucinations when an individual is exposed to art, usually when the art is particularly beautiful or a large amount of art is in a single place. The term can also be used to describe a similar reaction to a surfeit of choice in other circumstances, e.g. when confronted with immense beauty in the natural world.

It is named after the famous 19th century French author Stendhal (pseudonym of Henri-Marie Beyle), who described his experience with the phenomenon during his 1817 visit to Florence, Italy in his book Naples and Florence: A Journey from Milan to Reggio.

Although there are many descriptions of people becoming dizzy and fainting while taking in Florentine art, especially at the Uffizi, dating from the early 19th century on, the syndrome was only named in 1979, when it was described by Italian psychiatrist Graziella Magherini, who observed and described more than 100 similar cases among tourists and visitors in Florence. The syndrome was first diagnosed in 1982[citation needed].

The term is often used when describing the reactions of audiences to music of the Romantic period.

…what?
I was a little emotional at the Uffizi – who knew it was a syndrome! Finally my life makes sense again.

Jaquet-Droz Automata

I recently watched The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes and the only conclusion I came to was that Amira Casar is gawjus. Everything else: lol wut? I didn’t know what was going on and figured I was missing all the references. Sho ’nuff, there were several references to real people that are apparently pretty obvious if you’re in the know (and I certainly wasn’t) – the villain, if you will, is named Dr. Droz and in the film kills and kidnaps an opera singer with the intention of turning her re-animated corpse into a sort of automated singing machine. This is a direct reference to Pierre Jaquet-Droz, a watchmaker in the late 1700s who created various automatons. The “Jaquet-Droz Automata” refers to a collection of three particularly intricate automatons: The musician, the drawer and the writer.

Jaquet-Droz Automata

This is directly lifted from the wiki article, reposted here for your convenience (all emphasis is mine):

The musician is a female organ player. The music is not faked, in the sense that it is not recorded or played by a musical box: the doll is actually playing a genuine (yet custom-built) instrument by pressing the keys with her fingers. She “breathes” (the movements of the chest can be seen), follows her fingers with her head and eyes, and also makes some of the movements that a real player would do — balancing the torso for instance.

The drawer is a young child who can actually draw four different images: a portrait of Louis XV, a royal couple (believed to be Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI), a dog with “Mon toutou” (“my doggy”) written beside it, and a scene of Cupid driving a chariot pulled by a butterfly. The drawer works by using a system of cams which code the movements of the hand in two dimensions, plus one to lift the pencil. The automaton also moves on his chair, and he periodically blows on the pencil to remove dust.

The writer is the most complex of the three automata. Using a system similar to the one used for the Drawer for each letter, he is able to write any custom text up to 40 letters long (the text is rarely changed; one of the latest instances was in honour of president François Mitterrand when he toured the city). The text is coded on a wheel where characters are selected one by one. He uses a goose feather to write, which he inks from time to time, including a shake of the wrist to prevent ink from spilling. His eyes follow the text being written, and the head moves when he takes some ink.

These were built in the late 1700s and are considered remote ancestors to the modern computer. I really have no commentary except WHAT. THAT IS AMAZING. And a little creepy. There’s something particularly charming and strange about these automated things – they seem like little humans that just happen to be mechanical (as opposed to modern robots that are pure SCIENCE!) – especially when you consider the care put into their movements (chest rising and falling; blowing on the pencil, etc). At least that’s the distinction I make in my mind; not sure if it’s “correct” or not.

Someday I’ll see them (they’re in Switzerland, boo). And once I’m done doing my homework, I’ll probably watch The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes again. It’s a beautiful film so I certainly didn’t mind watching it, I was just uhhh confused.

In other news, I spent all evening doodling but came away with nothing. Oh well! Hopefully more art journal nonsense to come later… :)