I really don’t know how I managed not to pick up on it, but last year a group of German artists put on a VMs-themed installation at the Grauerhof in Aschersleben entitled “DAS VOYNICH MANUSKRIPT: eine künstlersicht auf ein rätsel” (an artist’s view of a mystery), featuring pieces by Rüdiger Giebler, Moritz Götze, Olaf Holzapfel, Alicja Kwade, Daniel Lergon / Gregory Carlock, Via Lewandowsky, Johannes Nagel, Jorinde Voigt, and Ralf Ziervogel. If you go to the site, clicking on any of the pictures launches a pop-up 32-slide slideshow tour of the exhibition, which is rather nice.

I particularly like Lergon and Carlock’s ‘book object’, with its spurious botany and implausible fold-out page arrangement. But perhaps the standout contemporary art piece of the show was by Berlin-based Via Lewandowsky (1963-) called “Okay“, formed of the Voynichese letters spelling ‘okay’ (in EVA) in striking green neon.

If you want to see ‘Okay’ for yourself, it’s currently on display at the Galerie Karin Sachs in Munich until the 3rd March 2011 as part of a show of Lewandowsky’s work called “Archäologie der Ähnlichkeit“.

Here’s a bit of fun for you that’s only running for a few more days: a Voynichese-style challenge cipher courtesy of everyone’s favourite hirsute cipher reclusive Tony Gaffney. Here it is (click on it for a more detailed image):-

Tony Gaffney challenge cipher

He says:-

The above could almost be a missing page from the VM. If anyone cares to have a go at deciphering it, it is the start of a very well known Italian story – the plaintext is Italian and it reads left-to-right and top-to-bottom in the normal fashion.

What kind of cipher is it?

Here’s a basic transcription (into EVA) to get you going, assuming that is indeed a genuine cipher:-

p aiin deey eedy lched otoched r qochedchedy aiin eedy chedeed otoeed ch
qochedy lched otochedy chy cthey dchedy siin chdy daiin otoch dcthey cthey
otochedaiin eedy qo otod aiin lched eedy lched otochedoto qochedaiin etey
qochedee dotochedy otoaiiny daiin otocheds daiin eedy chedeed eeds qochedy
aiin eeotochedy
p l daiiny lched otochedy s eedr r otochedchedeed dy eey chedeed daiin eey
dchched dcthey otochedchedeed dy lched eedoto qochedy oto dotochedy eey
eedaiin eedy otoaiiny daiin otoch dcthey cthey otochedaiin eedy qoched siin
eedaiin s otoched
p chedeed eedaiiny r qochedy s otoched qochedy eey chedeed dch l qochedy
lched otochedy m otol l dy qochedy l daiiny daiin dchedy aiin dcthey
eedy otoched ry oto qochedeey cthey otochedcthey otochedaiin eedy
lched otochedy chedeed dch cthey dy chedeed eedr eedch dcthey eedy 
p chched dch eedy otoched lched otochedeey l qochedcthey cthey otochedy
dy chedeed cthyched otochedy eey dch dy chedeed dcthet cthey otoched
oto eedy qochedy eey dee eedy daiin oto eedaiin eedy chedeed eedaiiny
chedeed cthyched otoched s otochedt lched otoched chedeed qoeeed odaiin ch
doto eed 
            *          *          *          *          *          *
            |          |          |          |          |          |

Enjoy! 🙂

Though technically they’re probably not in cipher (rather, they’re almost certainly three wobbly dictionary codes), they definitely form an historical mystery: and even today, the Beale Papers’ promise of 19th century treasure continues to inspire people to borrow a distant cousin’s mini-diggers and covertly dig implausible holes not too far from where Buford’s Tavern once stood. Which is, of course, both foolish and most likely illegal, so don’t expect me to condone anything like that for a microsecond.

What I’m far happier to praise is Andrew S. Allen’s animation “The Thomas Beale Cipher”, which I’ve already mentioned a few times along the way. Anyway, now that its tour of independent film festivals is (presumably) over, Allen’s very generously placed a copy of his film on the web right here for all to see (but expand it to full screen for best effect). You should be pleased to hear it doesn’t offer a faux solution (how gauche that would be) or even the pretense of a clunky explanation, but just the lightest touch of 1940s G-man cryptological paranoia amidst a glorious barrage of vintage textiles. Oh, and a nice brass-section soundtrack too. Go and have a look: I think you’ll like it a lot! 🙂

Apparently this is a real gravestone in the Notre-Dame-des-Neiges Cemetary in Montreal, for 54-year-old John Laird McCaffrey who died in 1995:-

Yes, it does seem to say exactly what you think:-

JOHN
FREE YOUR BODY AND SOUL
UNFOLD YOUR POWERFUL WINGS
CLIMB UP THE HIGHEST MOUNTAINS
KICK YOUR FEET UP IN THE AIR
YOU MAY NOW LIVE FOREVER
OR RETURN TO THIS EARTH
UNLESS YOU FEEL GOOD WHERE YOU ARE!
       MISSED BY YOUR FRIENDS

Blogger RctIfy has the scoop on the story behind it here.

I’ve had some nice emails in the last few days from all kinds of historical codebreakers, which set me thinking: what kind of person would be able to solve any of the mysteries of the Voynich Manuscript? I mean, anyone can look at it – but what kind of a mind would stand any chance of being able to solve it?

Perhaps the first thing to consider is whether you can genuinely appreciate it: not as a ‘work of art’ (only someone who hasn’t been to a proper art gallery could call the VMs ‘beautiful’), but as an artefact of puzzling beauty. I find the way that it manages to encompass so many opposites simultaneously analogous to ultra-complex chess problems (such as V.Korolkov’s near-unbelievable 1937 study):-

  • Left-to-right and right-to-left aspects… but neither dominating
  • Features that suggest Latin, Hebrew, Greek, Italian, French, Occitan, Slavic… but none dominating
  • Old and new, traditional and contemporary, medieval & Renaissance… but none dominating
  • Language, shorthand, cipher… but none dominating

…and so on. The knee-jerk academic reaction to each of these aspects is reductivist: to reduce the problem space by forcing a choice, for how can (for example) a thing be both medieval and Renaissance?

Yet my personal Voynich “moment of Zen” came when I stopped trying to wrestle with these opposites, i.e. when I stopped trying to force the evidential pendulum to swing to a single side. The way I now see it is that all these complex aspects are not inherently contradictory or paradoxical, but are instead just different sides of the thing itself, if not also different sides of the person behind it.

I therefore think that the people who will solve the VMs will be those who can manage to abandon their intellectual need for certainties, for I believe the answers will ultimately emerge from combining and working with all these ambiguities and uncertainties, not in fighting against them.

Realistically, however, very few people can manage this trick, as it goes against almost everything you’ve been taught. Perhaps the key attribute you’d need to cultivate is intuition: I’ve blogged elsewhere about how entrepreneurs need intuition, which I define as “the means by which we combine uncertainties” – perhaps Voynich researchers are utimately much the same?

Could the Voynich Manuscript really be anything to do with the group of supernatural beings who allegedly visited the Navajo homeland in 1996, as documented by Maureen Trudelle Schwarz in her 1998 Ethnohistory paper “Holy Visit 1996: Prophecy, Revitalization, and Resistance in the Contemporary Navajo World“? Her abstract begins:-

“In the spring of 1996 supernaturals visited the Navajo homeland to deliver a prophetic message of potential import to all Navajo people. In response, thousands of Navajo made pilgrimages to the site, while others had ceremonies conducted in their home communities and ceremonial practitioners made pilgrimages to the Navajo sacred mountains. In national recognition of the event, the Navajo Nation Unity Day of Prayer was established.”

Now, this other person’s “Restore The World” website thinks that the Voynich Manuscript (specifically the Quire 13 “balneo” section) documents the Navajo belief that the “First Man” escaped the flood by planting a cedar tree, then a pine tree, then a male reed, then finally a female reed. So somehow the VMs is caught up with an impending (2012) world flood, these visiting supernaturals, and the Navajo: a pretty potent cocktail of concepts to be mixing together!

OK, visual correspondence with some Q13 pages is a pretty thin reed to be building end-of-the-world-flood theories upon, but… it is what it is. Enjoy!

It’s time once again for that dizzying [*] highpoint of the Cipher Mysteries calendar – the London Voynich Winter pub meet.

As normal, I’m more than happy to adjust the precise date to fit around any visiting Voynichero’s schedule (or perhaps if you just happen to be stuck in one of our wonderfulle historycke aero-portes), so please say ASAP if you plan to be passing through London over the next 2-4 weeks and would like to come along too.

The current plan – as far as it goes – is to meet up at the historic Dog And Duck in Soho one Sunday afternoon in January (i.e. the 9th, 16th, or 23rd), and to then go on for a Chinese meal at the excellent New Mayflower on Shaftesbury Avenue, where a certain ‘Mr Voynich’ once had his antiquarian bookshop. Unless you have a better idea?

If you’d like to come along, drop me an email saying which dates you can do, and I’ll try to set something up accordingly.

Hope to see you there – cheers!

[*] if you drink too much alcohol, that is. Though I try not to…

Once again, Leonardo da Vinci has been in the news. Firstly, a local journalist found a fragment of Leonardo’s writing in Nantes library, which had received it in 1872 along with 5,000 other documents (including an unknown Mozart score) from “wealthy collector Pierre-Antoine Labouchère“. It hasn’t yet been transcribed or translated, so I couldn’t possibly comment on whether it describes a cleverly enciphered herbal manuscript (à la Edith Sherwood). Still, there must be at least 10,000 people in the world [including me, *sigh*] who can decipher his (actually fairly clear) handwriting / shorthand, so we shouldn’t have too long to wait, should we?

Somewhat more extraordinary is enthusiastic TV historian Silvano Vincenti’s claims that Leonardo da Vinci hid a secret (if somewhat short) message in Mona Lisa’s eyes, which he’ll be revealing fully next month (Jan 2011). He says:

“Invisible to the naked eye and painted in black on green-brown are the letters LV in her right pupil, obviously Leonardo’s initials, but it is what is in her left pupil that is far more interesting. […] It is very difficult to make them out clearly, but they appear to be the letters CE, or it could be the letter B.”

What’s more…

“Under the right-hand arch of the bridge seen in the background, Leonardo also painted 72 or L2, another possible clue. Two expert painters we consulted on this tell us that all these marks, painted using a tiny brush and a magnifying glass, cannot be an error.”

OK, let’s have a look for ourselves:-

What should quickly be apparent is that the craquelure on the Mona Lisa’s eyes differs significantly from the paint surrounding it. Specifically, if you also notice that the long crack that runs either side of her right pupil (i.e. the above-left eye) seems to have been painted over, all of this would seem to be a bit of an art history giveaway that both eyes underwent ‘restoration’ (which is always an interpretative and, sadly, often damaging process) at a much later date – in fact, probably 50+ years later, wouldn’t you say? Which, given that Leonardo was commissioned in 1503 and died in 1519, would seem to rule him out.

Hence, I sincerely hope that Silvano Vincenti has engaged not just “expert painters” but also expert art historians to test out his intriguing ideas. Or else he may well make himself look a bit of a fool. Oh well! 🙁

This is the point in the calendar when it’s traditional for bloggers to gloss over how miserable the preceding year has been, by devising some clever rhetorical formulation which gives all the appearance of optimism for the coming year, but which actually says nothing of real substance. I’ve even done this myself in the past (*sigh*), but now I’m solid enough with blogging to really grasp its tropes and limitations, I can aim to transcend all that faux positivism and to tell it like it is.

For 2010, ‘The Year In Voynich’ has been somewhat disappointing, particularly relative to my predictions for it: last Christmas, I was convinced that proper write-ups of the VMs’ vellum radiocarbon dating and of its McCrone ink microscopy (both following on from the ORF VMs documentary) would be major steps forward for the field; that these would clear some dead wood from the research forests; and, when considered together, might just form a tasty enough dangly maggot to tempt a big fish from the pool of contemporary historians to take a punt on the Voynich Manuscript. All plausible ideas on my part: but all so wrong, all brutally pareidolic.

Well… I now hear news that Dr. Gregory Hodgins at the University of Arizona is writing up the radiocarbon dating for submission in an (as-yet-unspecified) journal during January 2011, so perhaps things will start moving back on track then. Perhaps not, of course, but we shall see… fingers crossed, all the same. Just pretend I got the year wrong in my previous post, OK?

Finally, there’s a recent quote from Victor D. Huliganov that “the only way to win as a linguist with the Voynich manuscript is not to play” (appropriating the famous quote from the film War Games that “the only winning move [in nuclear war] is not to play”). Now this worries me: even though I’m 99% certain that linguists are on a losing game with the VMs (it’s an historical ciphertext, not a language, duh), it concerns me that other types of academics might use this as an excuse not to engage with it. So if anyone unexpected happens to ask you about the VMs during 2011, can I please ask you to tell him/her that:-

  • It’s a genuinely old object, so normal forensic historical techniques should apply perfectly well to it
  • We continue to untangle its complicated codicology and (probably 15th century) palaeography
  • We’ve also made reasonable progress in grasping its provenance back to circa 1600-1610
  • Though it’s anomalous in many respects, it’s not as if it’s alien – it’s just a damnably tricky artefact
  • Contrary to widespread misinformation, there’s no direct evidence that it is a hoax because…
  • Absence of evidence (of meaning) is not evidence of absence (of meaning)

Anyway, I’ve actually got far more interesting research leads to follow than I did last December, so I’m looking forward to 2011 in my own sweet way. Which is not to say I’m massively optimistic that they’ll bear fruit, but I’m going to keep on trying regardless, and I hope you do too. So have a Merry Christmas and – however you choose to spend your time – a revealing New Year! 🙂