the logic of three kinds

So sometimes two might meet

Archive for the ‘Tree of the Day’ Category

Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on September 20, 2008

Tree with Apples

Tree with Apples











By William Brereton


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Tree of the Day: August Renoir, Landscape Near Menton (1883)

Posted by achresis on June 23, 2008

Tourbillonnent dans l’extase

D’une lune rose et grise,

Et la mandoline jase

Parmi les frissons de brise.

These lines of Verlaine seem inappropriate at first when set alongside this pastoral scene, yet Renoir has brought both the sophistication and artificiality of his urban outdoor scenes to the subjects of this landscape, which whirl amongst many hued spirals as if they were animated rather than rooted to the soil.  The trees are in dialogue as they pirouette amongst a bristling herbe by the lake.  And once again the influence of photography, as painting veers from the path of naturalism, reveals itself in its negative: an animate stasis.

Next time: a pink and grey moon.

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Tree of the Day: Landscape (1827-8)

Posted by achresis on February 16, 2008

Thomas Cole Landscape ( 1827-8 )


One of Thomas Cole’s early landscapes, it leads the eye through the darkness of a cool forest interior of ferns where a still pond is fed by an animated brook, while the lines of a ruined tree trunk lead us up via storm clouds to a transparent sky with a mountain line in the distance. Trees leave a profound effect on the imagination, Cole would say, “they spring from some resemblance to the human form … There is an expression of affection in the intertwining branches, of despondency in the draping willow.”

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Trees of the Day

Posted by achresis on January 11, 2008

The Avenue at Middelharnis,1689

Meindert Hobbema’s The Avenue at Middelharnis, from1689, in the later period of the artist’s life, a period of infrequent artistic activity.

It is surprisingly powerful, though one might not have much noticed it. It adorns countless walls in homes across Europe and is particularly popular in small hotels and guesthouses or b&bs. The scene places the viewer on the road to a small harbour town in the distance. One can just see the masts of ships moored beyond the line of sight. It is geometrically exact: one can draw lines from the centre of the horizon through each of the nearest tree crowns and back along the road in the foreground.  The inherently straight road to the inviolable destination can seem both calming yet strangely oppressive once one does start to notice this painting’s power.

It evokes as if in a new context Augustine’s famous rhetorical “journey”:

Suppose, then, we were wanderers, and could not live happily away from our homeland, and that we felt wretched in our wandering, and wishing to put an end to our misery, determined to return home. We find, however, that we need transport, either by land or sea, in order to reach our homeland, the object of our enjoyment.  But the beauty of the country through which we pass, and the very pleasure of the motion, charm our hearts, and turning these things which we ought to use into objects of enjoyment, we become unwilling to hasten the end of our journey; and becoming engrossed in a factitious delight, our thoughts are diverted from that home whose delights would make us truly happy. Such is a picture of our condition in this life of mortality.

There is little, indeed, to tempt one away from Hobbema’s straight dirt road and all is anyway in the nature of the quiet industry of cultivation. The painting subordinates painting itself to an end in a rhetorical home elsewhere.

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Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on June 9, 2006


Originally uploaded by khora.

The urban fascination with what the pavement exhibits comes into relief in the meticulous operations of collage that constitute Max Ernst's novels. The remnants of the cheap woodcuts are made resplendent in illustration of stories never dreamed of let alone written.

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Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on April 23, 2006

flower in trunk

Originally uploaded by khora.

A strange form of attachment: to be a part of and apart from; intertwining, blooming, the flower borrows the phantom of the once alive tree: the trunk, a phantom limb.

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Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on March 22, 2006


“On wild trees the flowers are fragrant, on cultivated trees, the fruits.”


Needlelace Detail

Needlelace Detail from an embroidered Stumpwork mirror frame, circa 1650.

Board of Sulgrave Manor, Northamptonshire, England.

Photo: Peggy Field

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Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on March 21, 2006

Christmas Tree Cluster

The Christmas Tree Nebula

“This is an extended cloud of gas and dust popularly known as the “Christmas Tree Nebula”. At the “tip” of the tree is the Cone Nebula. This region of the Milky way Galaxy is an active star forming region. Near the bright star at the tree base is the star cluster cataloged as NGC2264. It is a distance of about 2,400 light years from Earth. ”

From: Jim Thommes

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Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on March 20, 2006

tree of graces

A Winter evening

Georg Trakl (trans. Albert Hofstadter)

Window with falling snow is arrayed,
Long tolls the vesper bell,
The house is provided well,
The table is for many laid.

Wandering ones, more than a few,
Come to the door on darksome courses.
Golden blooms the tree of graces
Drawing up the earth’s cool dew.

Wanderer quietly steps within;
Pain has turned the threshold to stone.
There lie, in limpid brightness shown,
Upon the table bread and wine.

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Tree of the Day

Posted by achresis on March 19, 2006


Sigmund Freud’s famous patient, nicknamed “Wolfman,” was supposed to have described the image in a dream. Were there seven wolves or only these five, as Freud depicts them, in the dream tree?

“I dreamed that it was night and I was lying in my bed. Suddenly the window opened of its own accord, and I was terrified to see that some white wolves were sitting on the big walnut tree in front of the window. There were six or seven of them. The wolves were quite white, and looked more like foxes or sheep-dogs, for they had big tails like foxes and they had their ears pricked like dogs when they pay attention to something. In great terror, evidently of being eaten up by the wolves, I screamed and woke up.”

Sigmund Freud: “From the History of an Infantile Neurosis,” in The Wolf Man by The Wolf Man (New York: Basic Books, 1971), p.173.

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