Holiday snaps: India, Khajuraho

January 21, 2015 • 8:23 am

Khajuraho, a UNESCO World Heritage site, is a group of temples, both Hindu and Jain, about 350 miles south of Delhi. My hosts and I travelled there on the overnight train from Nizamuddin Station in Delhi (a hellhole; I was standing on a filthy platform in the cold, waiting for a train that was six hours late, as it turned from 2014 to 2015) to see these amazing buildings.

These are among the most stunning temples of India, more impressive than the ones at Bishnipur that I wrote about the other day, and rivaling the marble Dilwara Jain Temples at Mt. Abu in intricacy. (I saw those on my last trip to India.) What makes the Khajuraho temples even more amazing is their state of preservation: though they have been deliberately damaged in some places by both Muslims and collectors of artifacts (each small sculpture is worth a fortune), a large portion of the original carving is preserved. That’s amazing given that they date from the 10th and 11th centuries, and are thus a millennium old, and are also made of sandstone.

The buildings themselves are spread out over a wide area, but I’ll show photos of the main group in the town, which is amazingly untouristed given its world-class attraction.

The temples were, amazingly, built without mortar—held together only by skilled fitting and by metal joints. I show an original joint below, photographed at a temple outside of town that is being partly restored.

Some of the temples in town:

How did they build them? The sandstone was quarried nearby, dragged to the site, and then, like the pyramids, the buildings were constructed by starting at the bottom, and then building up earthen ramps as the temples grew taller. After completion, the earth was removed from around the building.

P1070619

And original metal fastener between the sandstone blocks, pointed out to me by the supervisor of a temple being put back together. This is the only one I saw the whole time:

But it is of course the sculptures that made this place famous, and many are erotic, which are especially titillating to the tourist. I’ll show both types, but first a large-scale view of the decorations:

You can spot some of the erotic sculptures in the photos below:

Some of my favorite sculptures. First, Ganesha, the elephant-headed god of good luck:

Two apsaras, beautiful celestial females. The first one twerks, the second admires herself in a mirror; the third removes a thorn from her foot:

Woman reading what is apparently a distressing letter, which she holds (it’s a scroll) in her right hand:

Vishnu and consorts:

I was told this was unusual in two respects: the god has the head of a felid, and although it is supposed to be a male god, he had breasts to show his female aspect:

Musicians playing for the king:

P1070603

The king:

Note sure who this is, perhaps Vishnu:

P1070647

Large sculpture of woman and lion in front of a temple:

Woman tugging on her husband’s beard:

The famous statue of Nandi the bull, Shiva’s mount, in the “Nandi temple”:

Finally, a few of the many famous erotic sculptures. This is one religion that didn’t demonize sex!

Our guide told us that this represented a man playing with a monkey to keep the woman interested and thus prolong their intercourse:

The famous bestiality sculpture: man has congress with a horse while a woman watches in dismay:

Female masturbation: the woman on the left fondles her breasts, the one on the right her genitals:

Dismay over “doggy-style” intercourse:

My holiday snaps: India (architecture)

January 18, 2015 • 8:02 am

One of the day trips we took from Calcutta (now known as “Kolkata”) was to Bishnupur, world famous for its sculpted terracotta temples depicting scenes from the Mahabarata, a Sanskrit epic poem said to be the longest poem ever written (it fills several large volumes, which I can attest to since my host had a copy).

The temples are located here because Bishnupur was the capital of the Malla dynasty (later conqurered by the Mughals), and the temples, which probably took at least 15 years each to build, were ordered built (and financed) by the king. They’re made of terracotta, or sculpted clay that is fired and hardened, and then the sculpted panels fastened to the temple with a mixture of various organic substances including sugar (I can’t remember them all, but you wouldn’t think that, combined, they would form a glue that could last centuries).

The temples date mainly from the 17th century, and given that they’re made of fired clay, have been severely eroded by weather over the last 500 years. But they’re still stunning, and well worth visiting. In a few generations the figures won’t be nearly as nice.

First, there is a “Ganesha” tree in the town, which has a callosity resembling the beloved elephant-headed god. It’s revered and decorated by worshippers:

Here are several of the temples, which are spread out all over the town. I wasn’t savvy enough to record their names, nor energetic enough to look them up now. But it’s not necessary except for history buffs.(UPDATE: in a comment below, reader John O’Neall links to a Wikipedia page that identifies and describes all the temples.) Here are four of the most elaborate:

But it’s when you get close to them that you see that each is covered with a profusion of religious sculptures. I took a lot of photos but will show just a few.

First, when you approach the temples you can see how elaborate the sculptures are:

Note the deer (or cows) and ducks (or geese):

The art of making these elaborate sculptures has apparently been lost, though there’s a trade in inferior terracotta pieces for the tourist trade.

An original Sanskrit inscription. My host, a scholar of early Indian religious history, could read it, but I can’t remember what it says. Is it too much to hope that a reader can translate?

And a selection of some of the more striking panels:

Tigers!

And the effects of erosion on a depiction of Krishna playing his flute. How sad that someday this will all be effaced by the elements:

P1070289

Khajuraho!

January 2, 2015 • 9:30 am

I must have about 150 pictures of the temples and their sculptures at this World Heritage Site, one of the most stunning examples of architectural artistry I’ve ever seen. Because the internet is so slow here, I’ll present just a handful, but will show a profusion of gorgeous 10th- and 11th-century art when I return. The temples, are of course, famous for their erotic sculptures, and I’ll give an example below.

A Shiva temple, the largest of the complex:

A small part of the decoration:

Two sculptures:

OMG, what’s happening?

I’m quite fond of this photo:

An absolutely typical scene in a small Indian town:

Pittsburgh: #3

August 31, 2014 • 7:25 am

All I have time for this morning, before the meetings begin, is to post photos, which itself is a time-consuming exercise. But read this all, as awesome noms are at the bottom.

I met my friend, the reader known as “Hempenstein,” who is a retired biochemist living in Pittsburgh. He just bought a large and historic house that I wanted to see, but first we made a stop at a new and local distillery, Stay Tuned Distillery, which makes, gin, rye whiskey, single-malt whisky, and aquavit, all from this very small ten-gallon still:

We sampled one of their not-yet released products, an aquavit that is infused with a secret botanical whose identity I cannot divulge lest the owners kill me. It was absolutely terrific, and ice cold:

Hempenstein, a college friend, is an unreconstructed hippie, but he still bought this mansion (it was relatively cheap as, while the previous owner partly restored it, he died in mid-work and much of the house is still seriously debilitated). But it can and will be brought back to its former glory.

This is the Schwab mansion, built in 1889 by Charles M. Schwab (not the financial guy, but a steel magnate: once the president, successively, of Carnegie Steel, U.S. Steel, and Bethlehem Steel). Schwab advanced rapidly because he realized the importance of chemistry in making good steel, and also recognized the importance of the I-beam, the basis of all modern skyscrapers. He tooled up Bethlehem Steel to make them, saying, “Well, if we go bust, we’ll go bust in a big way.”

Needless to say, he didn’t: I-beams were critical to modern architecture, and Schwab made a name, and a killing. This was his house (the first commission of architect Frederick R. Osterling), and now owned by my friend Hempenstein, who is posing with it at the bottom. The house is in Braddock, Pennsylvania, near the mills (nearly all defunct):

Part of the inside: Hempenstein by the fireplace. You can see the fancy staircase and stained-glass window. This part of the house has been restored, and old hippie Hempenstein looks a bit incongruous sitting in his mansion!

The stained-glass window. It’s not a Tiffany, but the maker hasn’t been identified yet. It will need some expensive restoration:

It was time for dinner, but on the way we stopped at Hempenstein’s house to pick up a growler of local microwbrew (the restaurant is BYOB). He showed me his collection of American chestnut seedlings, as one of his hobbies is restoration of this species, Castanea dentata, which was largely destroyed in the U.S. by chestnut blight, a fungal disease that began destroying the trees in the eastern U.S. around 1900. Few adult trees remain, although they keep sprouting from the base only for the sprouts be killed when the fungus finds them.

Hempenstein is participating in a restoration project whereby the U.S. strain is crossed to a fungus-resistant tree, like the Chinese chestnut, and then the hybrids repeatedly backcrossed to the American chestnut to regain its morphological character while retaining the Chinese genes for fungal resistance (naturally, the backcrosses have to be individually tested for resistance). It would be easier to identify the resistance genes and then DNA-test the seedlings, but they’re not there yet. Here is one healthy backcross sapling:

P1060532

Time for my long-anticipated dinner at Jozsa’s Corner, an unprepossessing place located in Hazelwood, a run-down suburb of Pittsburgh. You have to call to see if the owner will be open, and he’ll open if he gets four guests on a weekday, and 6 on weekends. Within lies a paradise of home-cooking, Hungarian style.

Hempenstein enters with a growler of the local Green Giant ale (fantastic) from the East End Brewery.

It’s owned by Alex Jozsa Bodnar, who migrated to the U.S. with his parents in 1957, a year after the Hungarian Revolution. Because Alex’s father died young, his 19-year-old mother supported a family of four. Alex learned to cook, he told me, from his grandmother, as he was “tied to her apron strings.”

At the restaurant, for the measly sum of $20 (not including tax and gratuity), you get a delicious multicourse Hungarian meal, all cooked by Jozsa in the small kitchen. And if you want more of anything, you can get as much as you want. Do read the wonderful and laudatory review of the place in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

First course, langos, or Hungarian fire bread made with a potato dough. On top of it you ladle a homemade mushroom sauce. I had to resist eating several of these as I knew there was a lot more food to come.

Soup with chicken, noodles, and various other ingredients I can’t remember. Since this is a one-man operation, the plates are styrofoam and the utensils plastic. Everyone eats family-style from big bowls served at communal tables.

Then we had haluska, a simple dish of noodles and cabbage which the Post-Gazette describes this way:

. . haluska, a dish of cabbage and egg noodles, was perfect in its simplicity. The noodles were dense and chewy, more satisfying than this ephemeral starch usually proves to be, perhaps owing to the richness of browned butter. The cabbage had been cooked long enough to lose a touch of its bitterness, but not so long that it looses its pleasant crispness or flavor. This dish, so simple to describe, was immeasurably satisfying and memorable.

It was delicious and, as the British say, “moreish.” Again, I had to resist multiple helpings. It went perfectly with the beer.

Next course. I believe this was a pork gulyas (goulash), served with little fried breads, sour cream, and a big loaf of homemade braided sesame bread, which came on coming. It was terrific. You can imagine that by this point we were getting full!

The table: there were six of us: me, Hempenstein, a photographer (left), two bodybuilders (a couple) in town for a bodybuilding competition, who were chowing down after their posing, and a Famous Person at the head of the table.

The last main course, which I believe was chicken paprikas with noodles and a delicious cucumber-and-onion salad. Note the heavy lashings of sour cream. This was about all my stomach had room for, even though Alex offered us seconds of everything (and gave us the leftovers to take home):

Dessert: a melange of prune- and apricot-stuffed pastries, juicy grapes, and chocolate chips. This is Alex, and kind and genial fellow who joined us after dinner to tell us about his history and that of the restaurant, which has been opened for 25 years or so.

Now who was that Big Macher at the head of the table? None other than the Mayor of Pittsburgh, Bill Peduto, who dines here regularly! A Democrat, he was a friendly guy, and we learned a lot about what he’s doing for the city. Afterwards he posed with us all, even making a muscle pose with the two body builders:

P1060558

I couldn’t resist having my picture taken with the Mayor, although for some reason I grimaced during the shot. I showed this picture during my talk yesterday, claiming (falsely) that the Mayor had wished all of us atheists well.

If you go to Pittsburgh, you simply must go to Jozsa’s Corner for its homey atmosphere, fantastic food, low prices, and Alex’s geniality. It gets Professor Ceiling Cat’s highest recommendation.

Pittsburgh: #2

August 30, 2014 • 7:25 am

This covers only half of yesterday, for I had an awesome visit to a historic mansion that one of my friends just bought, and then a wonderful multi-course Hungarian dinner, and one of the guests happened to be a Big Macher in Pittsburgh. But more on that tomorrow. Yesterday morning and afternoon I roamed around downtown admiring the architecture of the city, which is underappreciated. Here are some buildings:

The Allegheny County Courthouse (completed 1888) and Allegheny County Jail (completed 1886). The complex now houses offices.

The Union Trust Building (1915-1916), erected by Henry Clay Frick, originally designed as a shopping arcade (the malls of their day). I love the neo-Gothic roof, which reminds me of the Tribune Tower in Chicago (the world’s only Gothic skyscraper):

I believe this logo is made out of real vegetation, but I may well be wrong. It seems to be for the PNC Bank in Pittsburgh. Perhaps it’s Astroturf after all, for how would they mow it?

A hidden little Art Deco building;

The diversity of architectural styles in Pittsburgh:

“Meet me under the Kaufmann’s clock.” Kaufmann’s Department Store. The Pittsburgh store, built in 1887, became the first of a chain, and is now owned, as is Marshall Field’s in Chicago (also with a famous “meet me” clock), by Macy’s. As Wikipedia notes:

The original clock which was installed in 1887 was a large free standing four faced clock. It immediately became a popular downtown meeting place, with the oft-used phrase “Meet me under Kaufmann’s clock.” With the expansion of the store in 1913, the current clock was installed.The clock is a Pittsburgh icon, and is often featured in visual materials representing and marketing the city. Both the Kaufmann’s flagship building and the clock are designated as Pittsburgh Historical Landmarks. Upon announcing the 2006 retirement of the Kaufmann’s name and the downtown store being rebranded as Macy’s, the store gave out tote bags printed with the Clock’s image and its phrase “Meet me under the Kaufmann’s clock” to honor the store’s 135-year history.

The 64-story U.S. Steel Tower, completed in 1970. It’s a rusty steel building, but designed to be that way. As Wikipedia notes:

The U.S. Steel Tower is architecturally noted for its triangular shape with indented corners. The building also made history by being the first to use liquid-filled fireproofed columns. U.S. Steel deliberately placed the massive steel columns on the exterior of the building to showcase a new product called Cor-ten steel. Cor-ten resists the corrosive effects of rain, snow, ice, fog, and other meteorological conditions by forming a coating of dark brown oxidation over the metal, which inhibits deeper penetration and doesn’t need painting and costly rust-prevention maintenance over the years.

A closeup of the partly rusted Cor-ten steel.

Time for lunch at last! And what better place for a light lunch than Primanti Brothers, a Pittsburgh landmark and now a chain. Michael Stern’s description and review at Roadfood notes that Primanti’s weird custom of including french fries and cole slaw within the sandwich began when the restaurant (which has another branch in the busy “Strip” district) was servicing truck drivers. (It’s open 24 hours a day.) The drivers had no time for a sit-down meal, so the cole slaw and fries were simply stuffed into the sandwich along with some Russian dressing. (One also adds a vinegar sauce to spice it up.) That sounds icky, but it was actually quite good. Primanti’s is a Pittsburgh Institution.

I ate early and had a pastrami and cheese sandwich, shown here in normal view and cross section:

Primati 1

Primati 2

The answer to “Whaddizit?”

January 16, 2013 • 1:04 pm

The picture shown in this morning’s post is, as someone finally guessed, the dome of the Stadshuset, the City Hall of Stockholm (built 1911-1923). Besides having its civic functions, it’s also where the dinners honoring the Nobel Laureates are held each December. Here’s the building, which is gorgeously festooned inside with murals and mosaics:

If you were at the Nobel dinner, which is attended by the Swedish royal family and assorted VIPs, as well as the Laureates, you’d have a place setting that looks like this (alert: vino in store!):

Here’s some information about the dinner on a sign next to the table, which is permanently on display in the Hall:

nb: The sign above notes that 1353 people were served, which works out to a measly 0.64 bottles of wine per person. That’s stingy: I would expect more. For a such a dinner my formula would be 1 person = 1 bottle.

Mosaics and a mural from inside the City Hall:

The Prizes themselves are awarded at a different place: the Stockholm Concert House (not my photo):

A boy can dream, can’t he?

Vienna: excreta

October 14, 2012 • 8:58 am

I’ve never posted pictures related to human excretion before, but Adolf Loos’s public toilets in Vienna, located near the cathedral, are what all public toilets should be—works of art. Loos (1870-1933) was an important Art Nouveau (in German, “Jugendstil”) architect in Vienna, and my guidebook called attention to his remarkable toilets. (It’s hard to find those toilets on the Internet, for you can imagine what you get when you Google “Loos toilets”.)

It took me a while to find the facilities (they’re not well marked), and even longer—several visits, in fact—to be able to photograph all the important parts when nobody was using them. So, for better or worse, here they are.

The sign above ground (“Herren” means “men”; there’s one for “Damen” as well):

Outdoor sign — I hope that pigeon is a male!

The underground entrance:

Art Nouveau urinals!:

. . . and toilet stalls (“besetzt” means “occupied”):

. . . and sinks:

And just to show how punctilious the Viennese are about the cleanliness of their city (it is remarkably neat and free of litter), the horses that pull tourists around the inner city have leather bags to catch their droppings:

	Jim batterson on Friday: Hili dialogue
	Glenda Palmer on Jesus ‘n’ Mo…
	mike on Friday: Hili dialogue
	Hempenstein on Savannah: Day 6
	mike on Savannah: Day 6