Tag Archives: Shakespeare

Three Medallions and a Lot to Learn

The joy of collecting modern medallions is that you never know what your searches will turn up. A few months ago I bought a large bronze medallion in its original box. The subject is Sir Richard Burbidge, a name which meant nothing to me. In the box was a compliments slip “With my deep appreciation and thanks for your loyalty and support during my time as Chairman of the Harrods Group”. It still meant very little, though Harrods is, of course, a name recognised over most of the world.

More interesting was the style. A closer look at the eBay picture confirmed that it was by Paul Vincze. He is a well known name in the world of medallions and is probably best known in this country for his series of medallions celebrating the 400th Anniversary of Shakespeare’s birth.

Vincze was a Jewish-Hungarian sculptor and medallist, born in Hungary in 1907. He studied in Italy and moved to Britain in 1938 to escape Nazi persecution. He was naturalised in 1948 and represented Britain in the last ever Artistic Olympics, held in London in that year. Apart from his Shakespeare medals he is known for the medals he designed for Israel, and for designing coins for Ghana, Libya, Nigeria, Malawi and Guinea.

Sir Richard Burbidge Bt, CBE (1897–1966) was, as the inscription tells us, Chairman of Harrods from 1945 until 1959. He was the third to hold the baronetcy, and the third member of the family to be Chairman of Harrods. He was educated at Rugby School, served in the Great War as a Captain in the Army Service Corps, studied retail distribution methods in the USA for a year after the war and joined Harrods in 1920. He succeeded his father as Chairman in 1945, was awarded the CBE in 1946 for his wartime work with the NAAFI, and left the company after it was taken over by the House of Fraser. He stayed in retail and, after six months on the board, became Chairman of British Home Stores.

The medal is bronze and signed on both sides by Vincze. The obverse depicts a profile of Sir Richard and the reverse has a classical scene of Mercury (god of commerce) and Ceres (goddess of bountiful harvests). Both, presumably, are seen as relevant to a large retail operation. It is 57mm in diameter and comes in a fitted case with a compliments card thanking the recipient for their loyalty and support.

The Shakespeare medal is one of his better known works, as mentioned above. This example is bronze and 38mm in diameter. They were made in a variety of sizes and metals – 57mm, 38mm and 31mm, platinum, gold, silver (.999 and ,925) and bronze. There was even an 8mm size, though it looks like a charm for a bracelet rather than a medallion. He was also responsible for a series of medallions showing scenes from Shakespeare’s plays and a series of wall-mounted plaques showing 36 of the plays. For some reason he missed out Two Noble Kinsmen and Henry VI Part II. These plaques are 28cm in diameter and were rediscovered in 2014 when a wall was moved during a change of exhibitions at the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust.

The third medal commemorates the 50th Anniversary of the Balfour Declaration. It is 59mmm across, bilingual and marked “State of Israel” and “2242” on the edge. It comes in its original packet from the Israel Government Coins and Medals Corporation, who were another major user of Vincze’s work. To summarise the Balfour Declaration is beyond me. It has kept historians occupied for the last hundred years and its effects can still be seen every time we switch on the news.

So, from Hungary to Harrods, and from Warwickshire to Tel Aviv. It is amazing how much there is to learn from the hobby of Numismatics, and the prompting of a few medallions.

Complaints, Compliments and Corn

I checked my emails this morning and found I have a “badge” on Tripadvisor. I am now, after giving five restaurant reviews in three years, a man who deserves a badge for reviewing restaurants. It doesn’t seem fair, as I only go on there to complain. The companies in question never reply to complaints any more, assuming they will even let you find their skillfully concealed contact details, so I started going on review sites. They don’t want to hear my (normally) useful advice on faults in service? Well they can see it on a website along with the other 1,000 people who have read my reviews.

I am just putting my finishing touches to the letter telling the hospital that I was very happy with the way things went on Wednesday, and am also very happy with my treatment in Rheumatology over the last five years. I do that sometimes, you know. I think you should do if you are going to tell them when they are bad. I’m not sure how much good it does, but it’s what I do.

Two sizes of wheatsheaf loaf

The spellchecker just hit a new low. I thought haibun/halibut was bad, but their suggestion for Rheumatology is Hematology. Not only a useless suggestion, but a completely different medical speciality and has the added bonus of a possible medical malpractice suit thrown in. Of course, it doesn’t like speciality either, but as it spells Haemarology incorrectly, what would you expect?

I was checking on the diversity of English spelling earlier in the week and the American writing the article sought to justify his argument by citing the spelling of Shakespeare. I think we all know that he’s not a great guide to orthography. Fifty years after Shakespeare someone (I can’t find the exact reference) was still making the point that it was boring to spell words i exactly the same way all the way through a book. The words of William Shakespeare, mellifluous as they may be, are spelt all sorts of ways There are six known and authenticated signatures of Shakespeare, and his surname is spelt, by the man himself, in five different ways. None of them, incidentally, is Shakespeare.  Strangely, in highlighting spelt, it has revealed it knows little about spelt, the ancient wheat species. It doesn’t recognise  emmer either. Talking of which, the corn in the title is British corn – cereal. Not maize, which is called corn in America. It’s very difficult being bilingual in two sorts of English.

Poppies in wheat field

Kings and Queens and the Winds of Chance

It is an ill wind that blows no good.

This expression was first seen in print in John Heywood’s book of  proverbs in 1546, as “An yll wynde that blowth no man to good, men say”.  It mostly has the same words, but I’m not quite sure it has the same meaning as the modern expression. The website I read considers that Shakespeare was the first to use it in the modern sense of a bad thing bringing unexpected benefits.

“Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.” Henry VI (1591)

It would be Shakespeare wouldn’t it? It always is. To be honest, I didn’t even know he wrote a play called Henry VI, so I’ve learnt more than just the origin of an expression. I really should know more about Shakespeare but apart from the plays we read at school I have only read two or three others, plus a few sonnets. I’ve also read Bryson’s biography, a book about his “lost years” and a detective novel that revolves round one of his lost plays.

Anyway, back to the ill wind. In the aftermath of the Queen’s death we have sold a number of things that we have had on eBay for years. This includes medallions and banknotes with her image on it and our entire stock of Prince of Wales investiture medallions. We had 35 parcels to send out today and had to make two trips to the post office.

It’s always a time of mixed emotions when someone famous dies and business increases, and I do feel a little guilty about it at times, but anything I do is nothing compared to what will soon become a flood of tacky commemorative items. Just look at what the Royal Mint has done. We will sell you these coins (1977 Silver Jubilee crowns) for a couple of pounds. You can buy them on eBay for as little as 99p. You can also buy them for up to £300. We will sell you these (the 1953 Coronation crown) for a little more. They are available on eBay for £4 or in auction starting at 99p. Or, if you look for the most expensive price – £4,999.99.

I will leave you to draw your own conclusions about my opinion of some of these prices.

 

Day 97

I’m sixty-three years old and I just did something I’ve never done before.

New things are quite common when you are young, but I honestly thought that apart from a colonoscopy I had no novel experiences left in life. I suppose there’s still bigamy and necromancy but, to be honest, I prefer a warm drink and a spot of TV.

So, you ask, what did I do? I “checked all” on my ASDA shopping and pressed the “order” button. It took about ninety seconds to do the shopping. It’s not something I normally do because it’s supposedly bad for the diversity of your diet. However, it will be three weeks since our last  ASDA order so it’s not a real duplication. Ninety seconds to do a week’s shopping, and that included selecting the time slot. I’m impressed. Of course, by the time I’ve been informed that much of it is out of stock, I suppose it will take a bit longer.

I’ve just had another poem accepted. It sounds like the magic has worn off a little when I put it like that. I sent ten off, so I also had nine rejected, but it doesn’t sound quite so impressive put like that.

On the other hand, it’s a tanka, so it’s only five lines. I suppose a proper poet would only consider it a verse. Of course, a proper poet would say “stanza”. I’m not sure when this happened, they were definitely “verses” when I was at school.

Medal for the closing of the Central Ordnance Depot 1982 – it refers to the explosion in 1918 which killed 134 people. At the time it was suggested that the factory staff should be awarded a collective VC because of the speed they returned to full production.

Finally, in a day of novelty and adventure, I’ve been asked if I can do another talk at the Numismatic Society. There are two ways that you can take this. My first thought was relief, as it shows my last one, on the Peace Medals of 1919, wasn’t too bad. My second reaction was, obviously, panic. Fortunately it’s planned for the early part of 2023 so I have  a year to prepare. As you may recall from the previous one, that’s eleven and a half months to think and two weeks to panic.

My subject is “A Hundred Years of Medallions” and will be about my attempt to form a collection of medallions – one for each year from 1900 to 2000. It’s actually 101 years, but as nobody agrees when the century starts and ends I thought I’d avoid the argument and just add an extra medallion.

Magistrates’ Court Medallion – two new courts were opened in 1996 – Nottingham and Mansfield

There’s an obvious flaw in my plan. After three years of thinking about it, I’ve only just started collecting the medallions seriously. So far I have secured 44, leaving me with 57 to go. I’ll have more by the time the talk comes round, so there will be plenty to talk about. All I need is the slides and photos.

Talking of which, I can’t remember where I put the stick with the last presentation on it, so at the moment I can’t even remember how many slides I’m going to need.

The header picture is a bronze medal designed by Paul Vincze for the 400th Anniversary of Shakespeare’s Birth. The others have titles attached.

Royal Wedding Medallion 1947 – a time of national shame at the poor quality medallions that were being produced.

A Picture for Laurie

The opening picture is a medallion of William Shakespeare by Paul Vincze, commissioned for the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s birth. You may remember the Moon Landing Medallion I pictured a few days ago. I mentioned I had this in my collection and Laurie said she’d be interested in seeing a picture of it. I laughed in a hollow fashion, as it’s just one piece of the multifarious detritus that flows around our house.

However, I have to start tidying and last night one of the first things I put my hand on was my medallion collection. To be more accurate, some of my “medallion collection”. The some is easy to understand, the inverted commas were added as I haven’t really collected so much as accumulated. There is a difference, as we tell people when they come to the shop with bags and boxes and even buckets of coins, stamps, cigarette cards, medals and postcards. We do banknotes too, but they don’t usually appear in such quantity.

An accumulation is just an aimless gathering of bits and pieces, often put together with an eye to quantity and economy rather than a theme. It’s often called a collection, but that doesn’t make it one. I could call a salad food, but that doesn’t alter the fact that it’s just colourful plate decoration.

I’m in anti-salad mode tonight. Julia is cooking and has just told me that our baked potatoes and veggie burgers will be accompanied by salad. This is indeed a cruel and unusual meal.

However, back to collections, a proper collection should have a theme, it should improve your knowledge of the subject and it might even increase knowledge of a collecting field.

Having rather foolishly agreed to give a talk at the Numismatic Society – Monday, 9 March 2020 – Peace & Tribute Medallions of The Great War – I am having to knock that part of my collection into shape. (Make a note in your diary if you are in the area).

The trouble is that there isn’t much information about them and I’m having to trawl the internet and write to museums. So far the museums have been friendly but have had no information, and the internet is tricky. If you search individual towns for information something sometimes crops up. But if you just search generally the third or fourth reference I found was one of my posts on this blog.

I’ve pictured a couple of examples below.  In a week or two I’ll probably find this post cropping up as part of my research!

All’s Right With the World

Having gone to bed just before midnight, I found myself awake and ready to creak into action just before 7am. There’s something inevitable about it. As a result, I will potter about until mid-afternoon. If I make the mistake of sitting down in front of TV I will then sleep. I don’t know why, but 3pm on a Sunday just seems to be made for sleeping.

It is now 8am and, having just discovered that I’ve left my camera at the shop, I am muttering at the computer screen and using this quiet sliver of time to blog.

Julia has had her weekly lie-in (she calls it that to make me feel guilty about my sluggardly habits) and is moving around upstairs.

She will be down soon, disturbing my day by pressing cups of tea on me and asking if I would like her to wash my shirts. She means well but seems unable to understand that a creative artist needs time and space in which to write.

I do need tea and clean shirts, but I want them to appear magically rather than have to answer questions about them when I’m pursuing my career as a 21st century Samuel Pepys.

At this time of the week I like to mull over events and draw lessons from them.

In this case the events of the week were uneventful and I learned that I didn’t know much.

I did manage to work the word “skullduggery” into an eBay description, the first time I’ve used it in writing in my life, though I’m still deciding how to spell it. There are choices. This might be the first time I’ve used the word “orthography” in writing too. I don’t recall using it before, but why would you, when “spelling” is just as good for most purposes?

It cropped up in something I was reading during the week and I thought, “I’ve never used the word “orthography” in writing.” Now I’ve used it twice.

I read it in a book about Shakespeare. I doubt that he ever used it, but if he did it would have been ironic, in that he would probably have spelt it in several different ways. The Elizabethans did that, and Shakespeare was hard pressed to spell his own name the same way twice.

Just some old photos again, due to lack of camera. The title comes from the fact that, miserable as I am, there can’t be much wrong with life when Julia is making cups of tea and I still have new words to use.

Even if I only have a picture of a cup of coffee.

Help, get me out of here!

Help, get me out of here!

Another Relaxing Day

I’ve done very little but sit down, read and eat today.

Julia cooked an excellent roast lamb dinner with a multiplicity of vegetables (potatoes, beans, brussels, carrots and celariac) and we had chocolate cake for dessert. I’m digesting that as I write.

The young couple next door (as I persist in calling them, in an elderly sort of way) brought us simnel cake cup cakes. I like them. And I like simnel cake too, just to avoid ambiguity.

I also wrote a sonnet. It’s a proper one, fourteen lines, iambic pentameters, a rhyme scheme and a volta. It took me twenty minutes and actually makes reasonable sense. Despite this, it still isn’t particularly good, but it’s a start. It just goes to show how constant practice makes it easier to write.

Now I just need a way of improving the quality.

I may search the internet for “How to Write Like Shakespeare”. I found this article. It’s not a great help, being geared more towards plays than poetry. I then found this article when adding “sonnet” to the search.

I also found a random sonnet generator, but I won’t post a link because it isn’t very good.

Six minutes to midnight – time to press the button.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Simnel Cake and Easter Chick

 

Things Fall into Place

Sorry, in the earlier version of this post I may have been a bit sloppy and given the impression that the haiku I wrote was the one in this post. In fact I did write the haiku in the post, but merely by taking words from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 19 to illustrate how he used a lot of words that he could have used for something else.

My haiku, which won’t be published until October, is not as good. Though it does have ducks in it.

I just had a poem accepted for publication, my first in fourteen years.

This isn’t as bad as it may seem at first glance, as I actually didn’t submit anything for fourteen years. After a few years of limbering up and writing limericks I decided to give it a try again.

The first two submissions came back so fast it felt like they were on elastic. In the days when we had to use post it was all much more stately. So I tried again and seem to have sneaked in under the quality bar.

It’s only a haiku as I’m famously lazy and can’t see any point in writing more than I have to. Three lines, ten words, fourteen syllables, no rhymes.

In terms of effort it beats a sonnet hands down.

This is Sonnet 18 cut down to a haiku. It’s ninety-nine words shorter and though it’s not going to achieve immortality, it’s an example of what Shakespeare could have done if he’d have set his mind to it.

(Looking at it, I wish I’d thought of doing this sooner as it’s a lot easier than writing one from scratch).

a summer’s day

rough winds shake buds of May

eternal lines

If Shakespeare had written haiku instead of messing about with sonnets he’d have had more time to write things like a spin-off from Henry V where Sir John Falstaff opens up a small hotel on the south coast, with hilarious consequences. Falstaff Towers could have been so good…

 

A Typical Day in the Shop

I thought of taking some pictures to illustrate what I did at work today. It consisted mainly of buying and sorting coins (three times), turning down two lots of cigarette cards (there’s no market for them), helping a burglary victim with an insurance claim and explaining to someone why creasing a bank note heavily makes it unsaleable. As you can probably imagine, I wasn’t able to do much in the way of interesting photography.

We also had the normal calls from people trying to sell us “rare” coins from their change. It’s nice that people are interested in coin collecting again, but it does take time and tact to deal with the enquiries, particularly when they quote ebay as if it’s  holy writ.

£2 coin commemorating the Great Fire of London

Commemorative £2 coin

Ebay, as I may have mentioned before, is a guide to what idiots do when they have ten minutes to waste.

You can currently buy a Kew Gardens commemorative 50p for £149.99 on ebay. Or you can come down to the shop and buy one off us for £80, though we’ve had it several weeks now and it hasn’t sold. Or you can get a sense of proportion and buy a nice historical coin.

For that sort of money you can buy a nice silver denarius of Emperor Commodus (177 – 192), a sixpence of Charles I or a very clean George III sixpence of 1818. So much history…

(I have no link to this shop – I don’t even know the dealer, but it’s a good site for finding examples.)

Or you can buy an eight-year-old 50p piece, which may go out of fashion next year.

After fulminating on the state of coin collecting I polished the counters and cleaned the calculator.

They are all the same size, despite the way they appear in the photographs – something I need to address.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the fact that people are interested in coin collecting again, and that they can find collectable coins in their change once more (like I used to do in the pre-decimal days of my youth). However, I don’t like the way the Royal Mint markets coins these days and I don’t like all the hype surrounding modern coins.

 

The Titles That Never Were

I just loaded this by accident, which shows what sort of trouble you can get into when you’re blogging. It’s ironic, since the post is partly about the trouble I could get into from Julia if I posted some of these unsuitable drafts. Fortunately it was ready to go, though it was intended for Tuesday morning.

If I tell you I still have posts about Free Range Rats and Hitler and Birdwatching in the pipeline you’ll get some idea of where I draw the line.

Julia draws it in a slightly different place. Which is why you won’t be seeing the following posts.

Nursery Crime: I was saving that for a blog about horrible young visitors to the Ecocentre, but as we were ejected from the centre and no longer deal with schools I don’t think I’ll be needing it. It’s a shame, but it didn’t take much creative effort to adopt a Genesis song title.

My Life and Times in the Urology Ward: It starts when I walk into the wrong clinic – mistaking  genitourinary and urology. Easy mistake if you don’t have medical training. As a general rule, a room filled with middle-aged men looking embarrassed is urology. A room filled with youngish people of both sexes looking shifty is genitourinary. After that, the tone of the piece goes downhill.

Cheap Toilet Rolls – The Curse of Modern Society: Julia has vetoed this one. I’ve edited it several times to make it more socially acceptable but she remains intransigent. To aficionados of  toilet humour this will surely rank alongside Shakespeare’s Cardenio, Love’s Labour Won or the musical version of Macbeth as a lost gem. Oh yes, there (probably) was one. Thomas Middleton is thought to have edited it in 1615 to allow more time for musical interludes, because nothing says tragedy like a musical interlude.