...ERGO BIBAMUS!
ENGLISH:
Lately I'm having extremely little time to draw what I would.
Since it saddens ME not to publish anything for ages, I decided to open a new instagram page in which to post not only completed illustrations, but also the majority of what I actually do as an aspirant illustrator: sketches, roughs, W.I.P., studies, unfinished illustrations, dumped ideas. This doesn't mean I'll abandon DA, on the contrary I'm trying to share with you even more stuff than before, at a possibly more sustained rythm. If you liked what you saw - and will see - here, you'll probably appreciate what's behind it.
Thank you!
ITALIANO:
Ultimamente mi sono trovato ad avere poco tempo a disposizione per fare illustrazioni soddisfacenti a piacere, come fatto finora.
Dal momento che mi rattrista non pubblicare niente per lunghi periodi, ho deciso di aprire una nuova pagina su instagram dove postare anche ciò su cui impiego buona parte del mio tempo: sketch, roughs, W.I.P., studi, illustrazioni abbandonate a metà, idee abortite. Questo non significa che abbandonerò DA: al contrario, l'idea è quella di pubblicare ancora più materiale di prima a un ritmo ancora più sostenuto. Se apprezzate quello che avete visto - e vedrete - su questa pagina, probabilmente apprezzerete anche il lavoro che c'è dietro.
Grazie!
www.instagram.com/fritz_vicari…
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Artist | Student
Artist | Student
Italy
| I'm a student illustrator and a former student in Medieval History with a very old passion for drawing. |
Activity
The Thaw, Auschwitz III, January 27, 1945
A remake of an older illustration (www.deviantart.com/fritzvicari…) based on one of my favourite literary moments - ever.
You can read the english version and the original italian down here, from Primo Levi's memoir "The Truce" (1963), about the author's odyssey from Auschwitz to Italy. Should you decide to read it, and I'd warmly suggest you to do so, read it after "If this is a man" (1947) (also known as "Survival in Auschwitz" in the USA), his memoir about the time he had spent in Auschwitz III, from his capture to the arrival of the Red Army.
[...]
Primo Levi, La tregua, 1963
You can read the english version and the original italian down here, from Primo Levi's memoir "The Truce" (1963), about the author's odyssey from Auschwitz to Italy. Should you decide to read it, and I'd warmly suggest you to do so, read it after "If this is a man" (1947) (also known as "Survival in Auschwitz" in the USA), his memoir about the time he had spent in Auschwitz III, from his capture to the arrival of the Red Army.
[...]
The first russian patrol came in sight of the camp on January 27, 1945, around midday. It was me and Charles that first spotted it: we were carrying to the mass grave the body of Somògyi, the first to die among our room-mates. We overthrow the stretcher on the tainted snow, since the mass grave was full, and no more burial could be done: Charles took off his hat, to salute the living and the dead.
They were four mounted soldiers, treading carefully, exchanging short and hesitant words, as they watched with strange embarassment the dismantled corpses, the shattered barracks, and us, the few alive. To us, they appeared amazingly tangible and real, suspended upon their enormous horses, between the grey of the snow and the grey of the sky, standing still against the blows of the moisty wind, ominous with the thaw.
To us it seemed like, and so it was, that the death-filled nothingness in which we were roaming since ten days, like extinguished stars, found its solid center, a condensation nucleus: four armed men, but not armed against us; four messengers of peace, their faces crude and childish under the heavy fur hat.
They did not greet, they did not smile; they looked oppressed not only with mercy, but also with a confused restraint that sealed their mouths and bound their eyes to the funereal scene.
It was that shame we knew so well, the shame that drowned us after the selections, and every time we had to watch, or submit to, some outrage: the shame the Germans did not know, that the just man experiences at another man's crime; the feeling of guilt that such a crime should exist, that it should have been introduced irrevocably into the world of things that exist, and that his will for good should have proved too weak or null, and should not have availed in defence.
It was that shame we knew so well, the shame that drowned us after the selections, and every time we had to watch, or submit to, some outrage: the shame the Germans did not know, that the just man experiences at another man's crime; the feeling of guilt that such a crime should exist, that it should have been introduced irrevocably into the world of things that exist, and that his will for good should have proved too weak or null, and should not have availed in defence.
So for us even the hour of liberty rang out grave and muffled, and filled our souls with joy and yet with a painful sense of pudency, so that we should have liked to wash our consciences and our memories clean from the foulness that lay upon them; and also with anguish, because we felt that this should never happen, that now nothing could ever happen good and pure enough to rub out our past, and that the scars of the outrage would remain within us forever, within the memories of those who saw it, and in the places where it occurred and in the stories that we should tell of it. Because, and this is the awful privilege of our generation and of my people, no one has ever been able to grasp better than us the incurable nature of the offence that spreads like a contagion. It is foolish to think that human justice can eradicate it.
These things, back then hardly discernible, which to many were felt just as a sudden wave of mortal strain, accompanied the joy of the liberation. As a consequence, few of us ran towards the saviours, few gave thanks to God... [...]
[...]
La prima pattuglia russa giunse in vista del campo verso il mezzogiorno del 27 gennaio 1945. Fummo Charles e io i primi a scorgerla: stavamo trasportando alla fossa comune il corpo di Sòmogyi, il primo tra i morti fra i nostri compagni di camera. Rovesciammo la barella sulla neve corrotta, ché la fossa era ormai piena, ed altra sepoltura non si dava: Charles si tolse il berretto a salutare i vivi e i morti.
These things, back then hardly discernible, which to many were felt just as a sudden wave of mortal strain, accompanied the joy of the liberation. As a consequence, few of us ran towards the saviours, few gave thanks to God... [...]
[...]
La prima pattuglia russa giunse in vista del campo verso il mezzogiorno del 27 gennaio 1945. Fummo Charles e io i primi a scorgerla: stavamo trasportando alla fossa comune il corpo di Sòmogyi, il primo tra i morti fra i nostri compagni di camera. Rovesciammo la barella sulla neve corrotta, ché la fossa era ormai piena, ed altra sepoltura non si dava: Charles si tolse il berretto a salutare i vivi e i morti.
Erano quattro soldati a cavallo, che procedevano guardinghi, coi mitragliatori imbracciati, lungo la strada che limitava il campo. Quando giunsero ai reticolati, sostarono a guardare, scambiandosi parole brevi e timide, e volgendo sguardi legati da uno strano imbarazzo sui cadaveri scomposti, sulle baracche sconquassate, su noi pochi vivi. A noi parevano mirabilmente corporei e reali, sospesi sui loro enormi cavalli, fra il grigio della neve e il grigio del cielo, immobili sotto le folate di vento umido, minaccioso di disgelo.
Ci pareva, e così era, che il nulla pieno di morte in cui da dieci giorni ci aggiravamo come astri spenti avesse trovato un suo centro solido, un nucleo di condensazione: quattro uomini armati, ma non armati contro di noi; quattro messaggeri di pace, dai visi rozzi e puerili sotto i pesanti caschi di pelo.
Non salutavano, non sorridevano; apparivano oppressi, oltre che da pietà, da un confuso ritegno, che sigillava le loro bocche, e avvinceva i loro occhi allo scenario funereo. Era la stessa vergogna a noi ben nota, quella che ci sommergeva dopo le selezioni, ed ogni volta che ci toccava assistere o sottostare a un oltraggio: la vergogna che i tedeschi non conobbero, quella che il giusto prova davanti alla colpa commessa da altrui, e gli rimorde che esista, che sia stata introdotta irrevocabilmente nel mondo delle cose che esistono, e che la sua volontà buona sia stata nulla o scarsa, e non abbia valso a difesa.
Così per noi anche l'ora della libertà suonò grave e chiusa, e ci riempì gli animi, ad un tempo, di gioia e di un doloroso senso di pudore, per cui avremmo voluto lavare le nostre coscienze e le nostre memorie della bruttura che vi giaceva: e di pena, perché sentivamo che questo non poteva avvenire, che nulla mai più sarebbe potuto avvenire di così buono e puro da cancellare il nostro passato, e che i segni dell'offesa sarebbero rimasti in noi per sempre, e nei ricordi di chi vi ha assistito, e nei luoghi ove avvenne, e nei racconti che ne avremmo fatti. Poiché, ed è questo il tremendo privilegio della nostra generazione e del mio popolo, nessuno mai ha potuto meglio di noi cogliere la natura insanabile dell'offesa, che dilaga come un contagio. È stolto pensare che la giustizia umana la estingua. Essa è una inesauribile fonte di male: spezza il corpo e l'anima dei sommersi, li spegne e li rende abietti; risale come infamia sugli oppressori, si perpetua come odio nei superstiti, e pullula in mille modi, contro la stessa volontà di tutti, come sete di vendetta, come cedimento morale, come negazione, come stanchezza, come rinuncia.
Così per noi anche l'ora della libertà suonò grave e chiusa, e ci riempì gli animi, ad un tempo, di gioia e di un doloroso senso di pudore, per cui avremmo voluto lavare le nostre coscienze e le nostre memorie della bruttura che vi giaceva: e di pena, perché sentivamo che questo non poteva avvenire, che nulla mai più sarebbe potuto avvenire di così buono e puro da cancellare il nostro passato, e che i segni dell'offesa sarebbero rimasti in noi per sempre, e nei ricordi di chi vi ha assistito, e nei luoghi ove avvenne, e nei racconti che ne avremmo fatti. Poiché, ed è questo il tremendo privilegio della nostra generazione e del mio popolo, nessuno mai ha potuto meglio di noi cogliere la natura insanabile dell'offesa, che dilaga come un contagio. È stolto pensare che la giustizia umana la estingua. Essa è una inesauribile fonte di male: spezza il corpo e l'anima dei sommersi, li spegne e li rende abietti; risale come infamia sugli oppressori, si perpetua come odio nei superstiti, e pullula in mille modi, contro la stessa volontà di tutti, come sete di vendetta, come cedimento morale, come negazione, come stanchezza, come rinuncia.
Queste cose, allora mal distinte, e avvertite dai più solo come una improvvisa ondata di fatica mortale, accompagnarono per noi la gioia della liberazione. Perciò pochi fra noi corsero incontro ai salvatori, pochi caddero in preghiera. Charles ed io sostammo in piedi presso la buca ricolma di membra livide, mentre altri abbattevano il reticolato; poi rientrammo con la barella vuota, a portare la notizia ai compagni. [...]
Primo Levi, La tregua, 1963
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Winterreisen, XIV century, Lithuania
ENGLISH:
A scene from one of the many Winterreisen (Winter expeditions) of the XIV century, during the seemingly perpetual conflict (Peter von Duisburg dates it to start in 1283) between the catholic Teutonic Order and the pagan Lithuanians.
A scene from one of the many Winterreisen (Winter expeditions) of the XIV century, during the seemingly perpetual conflict (Peter von Duisburg dates it to start in 1283) between the catholic Teutonic Order and the pagan Lithuanians.
The conflict attracted many knights and adventurers seeking to commit themselves in chivalric and pious adventures against the new "Saracens", as the Teutonic Order propaganda painted the pagan Lithuanians.
The idea was basically this: go to the Baltic, which isn't as far away or as dangerous as the Holy Land (Acre had fallen in 1291); you are free to decide if you prefer to go during Summer or Winter; be a guest of the Teutonic Knights in the great castle of Marienburg; be invested as a knight if you aren't a knight already and then go and fight some war and live some chivalric adventure against some enemies of God and then back home you return.
Things were obviously not as funny for the people living in the area.
The Winterreisen, weren't much different from the military campaigns of the earlier northern crusades. The terrain was just better and solid, so lakes and rivers are easy to cross. The objective is to sack, burn and depopulate, by killing or taking hostages. The main difference was that, in the XIV century, nobody really cared about converting anymore.
Then, in 1385, the Lithuanians ruined everything when they merged with the Kingdom of Poland and converted to christianity in 1386. Deprived of pagans to fight against, a slow but relentless decline began for the Teutonic Order, which was also soundly defeated by the Polish-Lithuanians in the battle of Grunwald/Tannenberg/Zalgris in 1410.
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All Quiet on the Western Front (1918-2018)
ENGLISH:
He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: "All quiet on the Western Front". He had fallen forward and lay on the earth as though sleeping. Turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.
ITALIANO:
Egli cadde nell'ottobre 1918, in una giornata così calma e silenziosa su tutto il fronte, che il bollettino del Comando Supremo si limitava a queste parole: "Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale".
Era caduto con la testa in avanti e giaceva sulla terra, come se dormisse. Quando lo voltarono si vide che non doveva aver sofferto a lungo: il suo volto aveva un'espressione così serena, quasi fosse contento che la fine fosse giunta a quel modo.
(Erich Maria Remarque)
11/11/1918 - 11/11/2018
ENGLISH:
He fell in October 1918, on a day that was so quiet and still on the whole front, that the army report confined itself to the single sentence: "All quiet on the Western Front". He had fallen forward and lay on the earth as though sleeping. Turning him over one saw that he could not have suffered long; his face had an expression of calm, as though almost glad the end had come.
ITALIANO:
Egli cadde nell'ottobre 1918, in una giornata così calma e silenziosa su tutto il fronte, che il bollettino del Comando Supremo si limitava a queste parole: "Niente di nuovo sul fronte occidentale".
Era caduto con la testa in avanti e giaceva sulla terra, come se dormisse. Quando lo voltarono si vide che non doveva aver sofferto a lungo: il suo volto aveva un'espressione così serena, quasi fosse contento che la fine fosse giunta a quel modo.
(Erich Maria Remarque)
11/11/1918 - 11/11/2018
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British Hussar, 11th Regiment, Crimea 1854
ENGLISH:
Ah, those dashing Hussars in their dashing uniforms!
This one in particular is from Lord Cardigan's 11th Regiment, his "Cherry-Bums" as he called them. During the Crimean War, the splendid regiment was famously involved in the legendary Charge of the Light Brigade - a feat of military idiocy sung by poets, historians, film directors, heavy metal bands. The whole Battle of Balaclava was a far more complex affair, but the Light Brigade charging into the russian guns vastly obscured everything else.
If you're curious to know more about the Charge of the Light Brigade, Lord Cardigan personal life, the regiment, the victorian society, the crimean war and even the great irish famine, read the splendid "The Reason Why" by Cecil Woodham-Smith; maybe a tad dated, but still one of the best historical essay I ever read.
If you are lazy but still curious, the 1968 movie, "Charge of the Light Brigade" (Tony Richardson); while being certainly flawed, it is one of the most historically accurate movie I ever seen and a very good adaptation of the book. Trevor Howard as Cardigan and Harry Andrews as Lucan are just...wow.
If you are even lazier, Iron Maiden's The Trooper is all about the event.
ITALIANO:
Un magnifico ussaro nella sua splendente uniforme.
Questo in particolare è dell'11° Reggimento britannico all'epoca di Lord Cardigan. Durante la guerra di Crimea, lo splendido reggimento fu coinvolto in quella che rimase poi famosa come la "Carica dei Seicento" - un'impresa di eroismo ma soprattutto imbecillità militare successivamente cantata da poeti, storici, registi e gruppi heavy metal. La carica della Brigata Leggera contro i cannoni russi riuscì a oscurare tutto il resto della Battaglia di Balaclava, affare molto più complicato.
Se siete curiosi di sapere qualcosa in più sulla carica dei seicento, su Lord Cardigan, Lord Lucan e tutti gli altri, sul reggimento, la società vittoriana, la guerra di Crimea e persino la carestia irlandese, leggete lo splendido volume di Cecil Woodham-Smith, "La Carica dei Seicento", uno dei migliori saggi storici che mi sia mai capitato di leggere. Forse un po' datato, ma scorrevole come un romanzo, breve eppure densissimo.
Se foste più pigri, potreste farvi bastare la versione cinematografica del 1968 "I seicento di Balaclava" (T. Richardson); non è un film perfetto, ma è tra quelli più storicamente accurati che mi sia mai capitato di vedere e un ottimo adattamento del saggio della Woodham-Smith. Trevor Howard e Andrew Harris nel ruolo di Cardigan e Lucan...eccezionali.
Se foste ancora più pigri, fatevi bastare The Trooper degli Iron Maiden, forse uno dei "prodotti" più famosi sulla carica.
Ah, those dashing Hussars in their dashing uniforms!
This one in particular is from Lord Cardigan's 11th Regiment, his "Cherry-Bums" as he called them. During the Crimean War, the splendid regiment was famously involved in the legendary Charge of the Light Brigade - a feat of military idiocy sung by poets, historians, film directors, heavy metal bands. The whole Battle of Balaclava was a far more complex affair, but the Light Brigade charging into the russian guns vastly obscured everything else.
If you're curious to know more about the Charge of the Light Brigade, Lord Cardigan personal life, the regiment, the victorian society, the crimean war and even the great irish famine, read the splendid "The Reason Why" by Cecil Woodham-Smith; maybe a tad dated, but still one of the best historical essay I ever read.
If you are lazy but still curious, the 1968 movie, "Charge of the Light Brigade" (Tony Richardson); while being certainly flawed, it is one of the most historically accurate movie I ever seen and a very good adaptation of the book. Trevor Howard as Cardigan and Harry Andrews as Lucan are just...wow.
If you are even lazier, Iron Maiden's The Trooper is all about the event.
ITALIANO:
Un magnifico ussaro nella sua splendente uniforme.
Questo in particolare è dell'11° Reggimento britannico all'epoca di Lord Cardigan. Durante la guerra di Crimea, lo splendido reggimento fu coinvolto in quella che rimase poi famosa come la "Carica dei Seicento" - un'impresa di eroismo ma soprattutto imbecillità militare successivamente cantata da poeti, storici, registi e gruppi heavy metal. La carica della Brigata Leggera contro i cannoni russi riuscì a oscurare tutto il resto della Battaglia di Balaclava, affare molto più complicato.
Se siete curiosi di sapere qualcosa in più sulla carica dei seicento, su Lord Cardigan, Lord Lucan e tutti gli altri, sul reggimento, la società vittoriana, la guerra di Crimea e persino la carestia irlandese, leggete lo splendido volume di Cecil Woodham-Smith, "La Carica dei Seicento", uno dei migliori saggi storici che mi sia mai capitato di leggere. Forse un po' datato, ma scorrevole come un romanzo, breve eppure densissimo.
Se foste più pigri, potreste farvi bastare la versione cinematografica del 1968 "I seicento di Balaclava" (T. Richardson); non è un film perfetto, ma è tra quelli più storicamente accurati che mi sia mai capitato di vedere e un ottimo adattamento del saggio della Woodham-Smith. Trevor Howard e Andrew Harris nel ruolo di Cardigan e Lucan...eccezionali.
Se foste ancora più pigri, fatevi bastare The Trooper degli Iron Maiden, forse uno dei "prodotti" più famosi sulla carica.
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Battle for Patroclus' body, Iliad, XVII, 290-365
[...]
for Ajax had given them strict orders
or to stand out before the others,
as the corpses fell thick on one another alike on the side of the Trojans and allies, and on that of the Danaans
[...]
Homer, Iliad, XVII, 354-365 ca.
Homer, Iliad, XVII, 354-365 ca.
BASIC PREMISE:
Achilles, the strongest warrior in the Aechean army, is offended by king Agamemnon, who seized the slave Briseis from him, and refuses to fight. Weakened by the absence of the Mirmidon leader, the Aecheans are pushed back by a furious Olympus-supported Trojan counteroffensive. The battle rages in and around their camp - and worst of all, their ships! Despite the desperate situation, Achilles, still enraged, does not intervene.
Enters Patroclus, which was the man's...well, it's pretty debated here - and ambiguous too. Was Patroclus' simply Achilles closest friend? Or was he Achilles lover? Maybe in the ancient sense of pedagogic pederasty? Were they simply bond by intense comradeship? Read the tome and give the interpretation that suits you best, but know Patroclus wasn't just "another comrade" for Achilles.
So, Patroclus.
He asks Achilles' permission to wear his armor to rally the Aechean and save the ships. Achilles agrees, but warns Patroclus: just push back the Trojans,don't try to follow them under the walls of Troy...
DEATH OF PATROCLUS:
As you may have imagined, not only did Patroclus scattered the Trojans, but also chased them down to the city walls, in a glorious counter-counteroffensive in which a lot of Trojans fall. Yet it wasn't his destiny to seize the city (and he was told not to push that far). Apollo himself strips him of his armor and weapons and stuns him to the ground; a spear immediately wounds him and Hector, the Trojan prince, finishes the heroic boy.
Again, the tide of battle turns. This time, the greeks are panicking.
Hector, having already taken Patroclus armor, now wants his body as a trophy, too.
A bloody battle ensues around the dead body;
In the drawing, Hippothoon, a very young warrior from the Trojan side, is dragging away the body of Patroclus with a rope when Ajax Telamnon, the strongest and bigger Aechean warrior, stabs him in the head (Iliad, XVII, 290-300 ca.) while a shield wall forms around Patroclus and a big cloud of dust and divine mist starts to form.
The Greek slowly retreated all the way back to the greek camp, where Achilles was awaiting his beloved Patroclus...
POST SCRIPTUM
For armor weapons etc. I took inspiration from www.salimbeti.com/micenei/inde… and from a greek association, Koryvantes koryvantesstudies.org/studies-…
POST SCRIPTUM
For armor weapons etc. I took inspiration from www.salimbeti.com/micenei/inde… and from a greek association, Koryvantes koryvantesstudies.org/studies-…
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Menelaus strangles Paris, Iliad, III, 369-375
ENGLISH:
So saying, he [Menelaus] sprang upon him [Paris], and seized him by the helmet with thick crest of horse-hair,
and whirling him about began to drag him towards the well-greaved Achaeans;
and Paris was choked by the richly-broidered strap beneath his soft throat,
that was drawn tight beneath his chin to hold his helm.
Iliad, Homer, III, 369-375
This day I went back to the basic, reading Homer's Iliad, a (possibly) 3000 years old epic poem about a short segment of the mythical war of Troy.
Differently from what most people thinks, the poem starts in media res, after ten years of siege - and it ends before the capture of the city.
The war, which seems to be fought a couple of generations after some of the most famous characters of greek mythology by their nephews and sons, was famously caused by Paris, one of the many princes of Troy. The prince famously broke the rules of hospitality (Xenia) with Menelaus, king of Sparta, when he fell in love and took away the king's wife, Helen. All of the Greece went to war to avenge the capital offense.
At the beginning of the poem, as the two armies met in the plains outside the city for yet another offensive, Paris challenges the anyone brave enough to duel him.
When an enraged Menelaus shows up, the prince cowers and hide behind the troyan ranks.
Now, despite the mythological subject, both sides are weary of the prolonged and bloody conflict fought to avenge a remote offense committed ten years before and openly question the war. The Trojans despise Paris just as much as the Aecheans: a truce ensues and Hector, Paris' older brother, forces the prince to take responsability and fight Menelaus.
The decisive duel would have finally decide, in a pretty rational way, the fate of the war;
Had Menelaus won, he would have received Helen back, with a cospicuous sum of money; had Paris won, the Aecheans would have abandoned the siege.
Now, as bitter and resentful as I actually am, this whole part gave me a lot of satisfactions; you can see how pissed off the stronger Menelaus is when he can finally fight his one and true enemy Paris. Having lost or broke his weapons during the fierce fight, Menelaus simply grabs the prince by helmet's crest and humiliatingly drags him into the Aechean ranks.
So, the war is over now, is it?
SPOILERS
Sadly, the gods begged to differ, particularly Aphrodite (Venus, in latin): she let loose the strap and covers Paris with a mist, and instantly teleport him in the safety.
Now this could pass as a minor problem, as technically, claims Agamemnon, Menealus' brother and leader of the Aecheans, the duel was won by his side.
Yet Hera (Zeus' wife), pissed at Troy for reasons of her own, wants the war to continue and the city to burn down: a trojan hero, Pandarus, is convinced by Athena to kill the Aecehan leader Agamemnon with an arrow.
Needless to say, the leader is only wounded.
The truce is broken and so here we go again, another offense, another betrayal, the massacre starts again.
HISTORICAL NOTE:
For clothing and armor during Greece's Bronze Age, I used this wonderful and rich page as a source.
www.salimbeti.com/micenei/inde…
Discovering that the heroes of my youth were not dressed with cool V century BC hoplite armors and corinthian helmets hurts as dinosaurs with feathers, you have been warned.
So saying, he [Menelaus] sprang upon him [Paris], and seized him by the helmet with thick crest of horse-hair,
and whirling him about began to drag him towards the well-greaved Achaeans;
and Paris was choked by the richly-broidered strap beneath his soft throat,
that was drawn tight beneath his chin to hold his helm.
Iliad, Homer, III, 369-375
This day I went back to the basic, reading Homer's Iliad, a (possibly) 3000 years old epic poem about a short segment of the mythical war of Troy.
Differently from what most people thinks, the poem starts in media res, after ten years of siege - and it ends before the capture of the city.
The war, which seems to be fought a couple of generations after some of the most famous characters of greek mythology by their nephews and sons, was famously caused by Paris, one of the many princes of Troy. The prince famously broke the rules of hospitality (Xenia) with Menelaus, king of Sparta, when he fell in love and took away the king's wife, Helen. All of the Greece went to war to avenge the capital offense.
At the beginning of the poem, as the two armies met in the plains outside the city for yet another offensive, Paris challenges the anyone brave enough to duel him.
When an enraged Menelaus shows up, the prince cowers and hide behind the troyan ranks.
Now, despite the mythological subject, both sides are weary of the prolonged and bloody conflict fought to avenge a remote offense committed ten years before and openly question the war. The Trojans despise Paris just as much as the Aecheans: a truce ensues and Hector, Paris' older brother, forces the prince to take responsability and fight Menelaus.
The decisive duel would have finally decide, in a pretty rational way, the fate of the war;
Had Menelaus won, he would have received Helen back, with a cospicuous sum of money; had Paris won, the Aecheans would have abandoned the siege.
Now, as bitter and resentful as I actually am, this whole part gave me a lot of satisfactions; you can see how pissed off the stronger Menelaus is when he can finally fight his one and true enemy Paris. Having lost or broke his weapons during the fierce fight, Menelaus simply grabs the prince by helmet's crest and humiliatingly drags him into the Aechean ranks.
So, the war is over now, is it?
SPOILERS
Sadly, the gods begged to differ, particularly Aphrodite (Venus, in latin): she let loose the strap and covers Paris with a mist, and instantly teleport him in the safety.
Now this could pass as a minor problem, as technically, claims Agamemnon, Menealus' brother and leader of the Aecheans, the duel was won by his side.
Yet Hera (Zeus' wife), pissed at Troy for reasons of her own, wants the war to continue and the city to burn down: a trojan hero, Pandarus, is convinced by Athena to kill the Aecehan leader Agamemnon with an arrow.
Needless to say, the leader is only wounded.
The truce is broken and so here we go again, another offense, another betrayal, the massacre starts again.
HISTORICAL NOTE:
For clothing and armor during Greece's Bronze Age, I used this wonderful and rich page as a source.
www.salimbeti.com/micenei/inde…
Discovering that the heroes of my youth were not dressed with cool V century BC hoplite armors and corinthian helmets hurts as dinosaurs with feathers, you have been warned.
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The Battle of Treyden (Turaida), 1211, Livonia
Henrici Chronicon Livoniae, XV, 3
[...] Seeing their courage, the knights immediately charge the enemy army, striking fear with their armored horses; they threw many of them to the ground and many others are forced to run for their. They chase the running Estonians, then they capture and kill them in the road or in the field. The Livonians, together with the crossbowmen, fight the pagans from the fort, they hunt them down of the road, they surround them, they kill them and chase them so relentlessly to the german lines that only few of them escaped and the Germans even killed some of the Livonians, thinking them to be Estonians. [...]
[...] Quorum fortitudinem videntes milites per medios hostes confestim irruunt, equis suis phaleratis timorem eis incuciunt, ad terram multos prosternunt, alios in fugam convertunt, fugientes persequuntur, per viam et per agros comprehensos interficiunt. Lyvones de castro cum balistariis fugientibus paganis occurrunt, ventilantes eos per viam et includentes in medio et occidentes usque ad Theuthonicos in tantum persequuti sunt, ut pauci ex eis evaserunt et ut Theuthonici eciam quosdam ex Lyvonibus similes Estonibus interficierent [...]
Henrici Chronicon Livoniae, XV, 3
ENGLISH (based on Henrici Chronicon Livoniae translated by P. Bugiani, R. Bartlett, The Making of Europe, E. Christiansen, The Northern Crusade, W. Urban, The Baltic Crusade) :
[...] Seeing their courage, the knights immediately charge the enemy army, striking fear with their armored horses; they threw many of them to the ground and many others are forced to run for their. They chase the running Estonians, then they capture and kill them in the road or in the field. The Livonians, together with the crossbowmen, fight the pagans from the fort, they hunt them down of the road, they surround them, they kill them and chase them so relentlessly to the german lines that only few of them escaped and the Germans even killed some of the Livonians, thinking them to be Estonians. [...]
In the winter of 1211 the christened armies of the bishop of Riga and his allies conquered Fellin (Viljendi) in Sackalia, gaining an important stronghold in Estonia. In the summer of the same year, three Estonian tribes, the Oeselians, the Rotalians and Revelians, united in a great estonian army, counterattacked: their objective, the stronghold of Treyden (Turaida), home to one of the most prominent leaders among the christened Balts, Caupo.
The attackers wanted to neutralize the fortress on their way to Riga itself or to force the defenders to surrender and join them. Treyden was defended by Caupo and his livonian retinue and a bunch of german crossbowmen (www.deviantart.com/fritzvicari… ): with the countryside devastated and completely surrounded, they would not have lasted long...
An army of Swordbrothers and western Crusaders came to their rescue. As pitched battles and western style cavalry charges were not really typical of the Baltic warfare, the Estonians were starting to waive. When the defenders of Treyden joined the battle, the besiegers were trapped into a pincer movement and forced to retreat.
What started as the greatest combined offensive ever launched by Estonian tribes ended in disaster. Before the day was over, more than 2000 estonians were killed, a good portion of their leadership included and hundreds of their ships were captured.
In the illustration, the point of view of the defenders of Treyden when they launched their counterattack from the fort. In the background, you can see the knights charghing the estonians in a wedge formation.
[...] Vedendo il loro coraggio, i cavalieri subito irrompono in mezzo alla schiera avversaria incutendo terrore con i loro cavalli guarniti; ne gettano molti a terra, altri li mettono in fuga. Inseguono quelli che scappano e, dopo averli catturati, li uccidono sulla strada e nei campi. I Livoni, insieme ai balestrieri, affrontano dal forte i pagani fuggiaschi, gli danno la caccia per strada, li accerchiano, li uccidono e li inseguono così impietosamente fino alle file tedesche che pochi di loro scampano e addirittura i Tedeschi uccidono alcuni livoni prendendoli per Estoni [...]
ITALIANO (basato sulla Henrici Chronicon Livoniae a cura di P. Bugiani, R. Bartlett, The Making of Europe, E. Christiansen, La Crociata del Nord, W. Urban, The Baltic Crusade)
[...] Vedendo il loro coraggio, i cavalieri subito irrompono in mezzo alla schiera avversaria incutendo terrore con i loro cavalli guarniti; ne gettano molti a terra, altri li mettono in fuga. Inseguono quelli che scappano e, dopo averli catturati, li uccidono sulla strada e nei campi. I Livoni, insieme ai balestrieri, affrontano dal forte i pagani fuggiaschi, gli danno la caccia per strada, li accerchiano, li uccidono e li inseguono così impietosamente fino alle file tedesche che pochi di loro scampano e addirittura i Tedeschi uccidono alcuni livoni prendendoli per Estoni [...]
Nell'inverno del 1211 gli eserciti cristiani del vescovo di Riga e dei suoi alleati avevano riconquistato Fellin (Viljendi) in Sackala, guadagnando alla loro causa un importante avamposto in Estonia. Quella stessa estate tre tribù Estoni, gli Oseliani, i Rotali e i Revelesi, unite in un grande esercito, lanciarono la controffensiva contro Riga. Il loro primo obiettivo era il forte di Treyden (Turaida).
Treyden era difesa da Caupo, una delle personalità più importanti tra i balti convertiti e da alcuni balestrieri tedeschi al servizio del vescovo di Riga (www.deviantart.com/fritzvicari… ). Per quanto determinati, accerchiati dagli Estoni e privati di qualunque rifornimento, i difensori di Treyden non sembravano avere molte possibilità...
Il vescovo di Riga affrettò in soccorso di Caupo e dei suoi un esercito di crociati occidentali e di confratelli dell'Ordine dei Portaspada. Nonostante il loro numero, gli estoni, al pari della altre tribù del Baltico orientale, non avevano molto da opporre alle cariche di cavalleria tipiche degli eserciti occidentali; quando anche i difensori di Treyden si unirono allo scontro uscendo dalla fortezza e lanciandosi sugli assedianti dalle colline, gli Estoni, vedendosi stretti da due lati e già demoralizzati dal formidabile assalto dei cavalieri, iniziarono a ritirarsi.
Quella che era iniziata come la più grande offensiva Estone mai lanciata fino a quel momento, si concluse in un disastro. Nella battaglia di Treyden caddero più di duemila estoni, nel loro numero numerosi principi.
Nella tavola ho illustrato il punto di vista dei difensori di Treyden quando lanciarono il contrattacco dal forte. Sullo sfondo è visibile la carica del cuneo dei cavaleri contro le formazioni estoni.
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Pike and Shot, 1620s
ENGLISH:
Have you missed it?
Finally a new illustration about the Thirty Years' War!
This scene, set in the 1620s, is not referred to anything in particular, it's just a skirmish between a spanish tercio and some caracoling dutch cuirassiers.
Yes, caracoling - riding towards the enemy, discharge the pistols and going back - wasn't probably a proper tactic anymore, just something discouraged or tactically disadvantaged cavalry formations would have done to avoid risking their precious horses in a charge. And charging inside a forest of pikes - that would be tactically disadvantegeous.
ITALIANO:
Nel caso ne aveste sentito la mancanza,
una nuova illustrazione sulla guerra dei trent'anni.
La scena, ambientata negli anni 20 del seicento, non si riferisce a nessuno battaglia in particolare e rappresenta una schermaglia tra un tercio spagnolo e alcuni corazzieri olandesi.
Il caracollo - cavalcare verso il nemico, scaricare le pistole, tornare indietro - non era più una tattica molto utilizzata in quegli anni; si trattava più che altro dell'azione offensiva meno rischiosa per formazioni di cavalleria scoraggiate o tatticamente inferiori.
Have you missed it?
Finally a new illustration about the Thirty Years' War!
This scene, set in the 1620s, is not referred to anything in particular, it's just a skirmish between a spanish tercio and some caracoling dutch cuirassiers.
Yes, caracoling - riding towards the enemy, discharge the pistols and going back - wasn't probably a proper tactic anymore, just something discouraged or tactically disadvantaged cavalry formations would have done to avoid risking their precious horses in a charge. And charging inside a forest of pikes - that would be tactically disadvantegeous.
ITALIANO:
Nel caso ne aveste sentito la mancanza,
una nuova illustrazione sulla guerra dei trent'anni.
La scena, ambientata negli anni 20 del seicento, non si riferisce a nessuno battaglia in particolare e rappresenta una schermaglia tra un tercio spagnolo e alcuni corazzieri olandesi.
Il caracollo - cavalcare verso il nemico, scaricare le pistole, tornare indietro - non era più una tattica molto utilizzata in quegli anni; si trattava più che altro dell'azione offensiva meno rischiosa per formazioni di cavalleria scoraggiate o tatticamente inferiori.
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Les Tems Revient, Firenze 1469
ITALIANO:
ENGLISH:
(based on G. Busi, Lorenzo de Medici, una vita da Magnifico, U. Dorini, I Medici, storia di una famiglia, I. Walter, Lorenzo il Magnifico e il suo tempo)
(based on G. Busi, Lorenzo de Medici, una vita da Magnifico, U. Dorini, I Medici, storia di una famiglia, I. Walter, Lorenzo il Magnifico e il suo tempo)
Florence, February 7th, 1469, the tournament in Santa Croce square.
Lorenzo de Medici, then a 20 years old youth, made his proper debut in the Florentine society. Everything about his figure was literally awesome and filled with symbolism.
According to the highly detailed descriptions we possess, his colours, red and white, were an homage to his wife family, Clarice Orsini, which he had recently married but never met, and so were the dried roses which adorned his sleeveless tabard*.
The crown of violets that adorned his helm was instead a tribute to the object of his courtly love,
Lucrezia Donati.
His hat was covered with golden chains, plumes, jewels and pearls; pearls also decorated his tabard and his horse caparison, an obvious, excessive display of his status.
Lorenzo seemed to be coming out from the splendid standard, commissioned to Andrea Verrocchio an year earlier (and, apparently, never paid): under the sun and a rainbow, a motto written in golden letters: "les temps revient", time returns; underneath the motto a laureal tree and a woman in a blue dress decorated with silver and golden flowers, entangling a laureal wreath from its feathers. The evergreen laurel, a reference to Lorenzo, was an allegory to the renovation, the continuity, the triumph and the immortality of the de Medici family.
Historical notes: the basilica of Santa Croce is based on what it looked like before the neo-gothic facade was added in the XIX century. The actual church is actually much bigger, but I decided to sacrifice realism to composition.
*The clothing and armor are based on contemporary descriptions and mostly based on king Rene's d'Anjou Tournament Book, produced in the 1470s. I added sleeves to Lorenzo's tabard, making it more similar to those shown in the aforementioned book, to better show the roses.
(Done for a school project with Adobe Illustrator)
(Done for a school project with Adobe Illustrator)
ITALIANO:
(basato su G. Busi, Lorenzo de Medici, una vita da Magnifico, U. Dorini, I Medici, storia di una famiglia, I. Walter, Lorenzo il Magnifico e il suo tempo)
Firenze, 7 Febbraio 1469, il grande torneo in piazza Santa Croce.
Lorenzo de Medici, all'epoca ventenne, debutta trionfalmente in società.
Niente è lasciato al caso, ogni particolare della sua figura è splendido e ogni più piccola decorazione ha un significato simbolico.
Secondo le dettagliatissime descrizioni che ci sono giunte, Lorenzo indossava un mantello smanicato sopra l'armatura*, bianco e paonazzo e coperto di rose, un tributo alla famiglia della moglie, Clarice Orsini, che all'epoca Lorenzo non aveva ancora mai incontrato.
La corona di viole che adornava l'elmo era stata intrecciata anni prima da Lucrezia Donati, oggetto d'amor cortese di Lorenzo, alla quale il giovane dedicò il torneo.
Non mancavano oggetti di lusso a simboleggiare lo status e la ricchezza del de Medici: la berretta, probabilmente l'oggetto più costoso dell'inventario di Lorenzo, era tempestata di diamanti, piume e catene d'oro e perle di varie dimensioni. Decine di perle decoravano anche il mantello, lo scudo e la gualdrappa del cavallo;
Lorenzo sembrava una figura uscita da un affresco del Gozzoli o dallo splendido stendardo commissionato ad Andrea Verrocchio (e mai pagato), che apriva la sua processione. Sotto il sole e un arcobaleno, risaltava un motto caro a Lorenzo, "Le Tems Revient", "Il tempo che ritorna"; sotto il motto, un albero di alloro e una donna che con i rami dell'albero intrecciava una corona.
L'alloro, chiaro riferimento etimologico al nome di Lorenzo, rappresentava una potente allegoria al rinnovamento, la continuità, il trionfo e l'immortalità della famiglia de Medici.
Nota storica: la basilica di Santa Croce è basata sull'aspetto che aveva prima che intorno a metà dell'ottocento ne venisse ultimata la facciata in stile neogotico. L'edificio è in realtà molto più grande e alto, ma ho deciso di sacrificare il realismo per la composizione.
*Gli abiti e le armature sono basati su descrizioni contemporanee e in particolare sul "Libro dei Tornei di Re Renato d'Angiò", prodotto negli anni settanta del quattrocento. Ho aggiunto le maniche al mantello di Lorenzo, trasformandolo in un tabardo, per mostrare meglio le rose che lo decoravano.
(Realizzato con Adobe Illustrator per un progetto scolastico)
(Realizzato con Adobe Illustrator per un progetto scolastico)
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Thank you for the watch and helping my profile grow! I really appreciate it!
I hope you'll continue to enjoy and support my art! <3
And last but not least, thank you very much.
One day I'll return to the Thirty Years' War, eventually
fai parte di qualche associazione rievocativa?