#museum of mathematics

[opposite-massive]

trick or treat!

treat! here’s some shapes that i saw at the museum of mathematics in new york city

[heracliteanfire]

Progression of four solid bodies (in clay) of Genus 2, showing stages in the deformation of a solid cylinder with two holes, to a teapot shape.

Mrs M. Jones, 1967.

(via Science Museum)

[thepastisalreadywritten]

(CNN) — The dappled starlight and swirling clouds of Vincent van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” are thought to reflect the artist’s tumultuous state of mind when he painted the work in 1889.

Now, a new analysis by physicists based in China and France suggests the artist had a deep, intuitive understanding of the mathematical structure of turbulent flow.

As a common natural phenomenon observed in fluids — moving water, ocean currents, blood flow, billowing storm clouds and plumes of smoke — turbulent flow is chaotic, as larger swirls or eddies, form and break down into smaller ones.

It may appear random to the casual observer, but turbulence nonetheless follows a cascading pattern that can be studied and, at least partially, explained using mathematical equations.

“Imagine you are standing on a bridge, and you watch the river flow. You will see swirls on the surface, and these swirls are not random.

They arrange themselves in specific patterns, and these kinds of patterns can be predicted by physical laws,” said Yongxiang Huang, lead author of the study that published Tuesday in the scientific journal Physics of Fluids.

Huang is a researcher at State Key Laboratory of Marine Environmental Science & College of Ocean and Earth Sciences at Xiamen University in southeastern China.

“The Starry Night” is an oil-on-canvas painting that, the study noted, depicts a view just before sunrise from the east-facing window of the artist’s asylum room at Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in southern France.

Van Gogh had admitted himself to an asylum there after mutilating his left ear.

Using a digital image of the painting, Huang and his colleagues examined the scale of its 14 main whirling shapes to understand whether they aligned with physical theories that describe the transfer of energy from large- to small-scale eddies as they collide and interact with one another.

‘The Starry Night’ and turbulence theories

The atmospheric motion of the painted sky cannot be directly measured, so Huang and his colleagues precisely measured the brushstrokes and compared the size of the brushstrokes to the mathematical scales expected from turbulence theories.

To gauge physical movement, they used the relative brightness or luminance of the varying paint colors.

They discovered that the sizes of the 14 whirls or eddies in “The Starry Night,” and their relative distance and intensity, follow a physical law that governs fluid dynamics known as Kolmogorov’s Theory of Turbulence.

In the 1940s, Soviet mathematician Andrey Kolmogorov (1903–1987) described a mathematical relationship between the fluctuations in a flow’s speed and the rate at which its energy dissipates.

Huang and the team also found that the paint, at the smallest scale, mixes around with some background swirls and whirls in a fashion predicted by turbulence theory, following a statistical pattern known as Batchelor’s scaling.

Batchelor’s scaling mathematically represents how small particles, such as drifting algae in the ocean or pieces of dust in the wind, are passively mixed around by turbulent flow.

“This is cool. Indeed this is the type of statistics you would expect from algae blooms being swept around by ocean currents, or dust and particulates in the air,” said James Beattie, a postdoctoral researcher in the Department of Astrophysical Sciences at Princeton University in New Jersey, in an email.

Beattie wasn’t involved in this study but has conducted similar research on the artwork.

“In my paper, I only ever really looked at the large (swirls in the painting), so I didn’t see this second relation,” he said, referring to the Batchelor’s scaling.

‘An amazing coincidence’

Of course, Huang said, van Gogh would not have been aware of such equations but likely he spent a lot of time observing turbulence in nature.

“I think this physical relationship must be embedded in his mind so that’s why when he made this famous ‘Starry Night’ painting, it mimics the real flow,” Huang said.

Beattie agreed: “It’s an amazing coincidence that Van Gogh’s beautiful painting shares many of the same statistics as turbulence,” he said.

“This makes some sense — the models have been constructed to try to capture the statistics of eddies and swirls on multiple scales, each swirl communicating with other swirls through the turbulent cascade.

In some sense, Van Gogh painted something that represents this phenomenon, so why shouldn’t there be some convergence between the theoretical models and the statistics of Van Gogh’s swirls?”

The study team performed the same analysis and detected the same phenomenon in two other images:

— a painting, “Chain Pier, Brighton,” created by British artist John Constable in 1826-7;

— a photograph of Jupiter’s Great Red Spot, taken by NASA’s Voyager 1 spacecraft on 5 March 1979.

“Unlike ‘The Starry Night,’ this painting lacks well-defined swirling patterns, but the clouds are rich of structures with different scales, resembling those frequently seen in the sky,” the study noted of Constable’s artwork.

On display at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, “The Starry Night” is an enormously popular work of art that has been recreated in Lego bricks, drones and dominoes.

Huang said that scientists had long struggled to describe turbulent flow in fluid dynamics in a way that would allow them to predict the phenomenon and that a complete explanation remains a prevailing mystery of physics.

A thorough understanding would help with weather forecasting, flight turbulence and many other processes, he said.

“Even after more than 100 years (of) study, we even don’t know how to define this complex phenomenon,” Huang said.

“It’s extremely important, but it’s extremely difficult.”

"The fact that “The Starry Night” matched statistical models of turbulence even though the artwork doesn’t actually move could suggest that the statistical methods and tools are less precise than scientists may have thought," Beattie said.

"The painting can’t be precisely measured because it’s “actually not turbulence. … (I)t has no kinetic energy,” he said.

However, Beattie said that he was a huge fan of the work of art and that it reflected universality and the beauty of turbulence.

“I deeply love the fact that I can take my understanding of the turbulence in the plasma between galaxies and apply it to the turbulence between stars, between Earth and the Sun or in our own lakes, oceans and atmosphere,” he said.

“What I take away from studies like this is that (van Gogh) captured some of this universality in the beautiful (‘Starry Night’),” Beattie added.

“And I think people know this. They know that something wonderful has been embedded in this painting and we are drawn to it.”

[nevermissblog]

AKA "The Golden Ratio", at MIT museum

[polyglotabc]

Unearthing Ancient Civilizations

The Importance of Over 30,000 Preserved Cuneiform Writings Deciphering a Lost Language Insights into Daily Life and Culture The Epic of Gilgamesh Technological and Scientific Advances Religious and Mythological Texts The Role of Cuneiform in Modern Research Challenges in Preservation and Interpretation Enhancing Accessibility and Understanding Book Recommendations Online Resources and…

[historysurvivalguide]

A Silver Microscope made for a King

A beautiful microscope made in the 1700s by the master mathematical instrument maker George Adams. It is made from a combination of brass, ebony, glass, tin, steel and (most prominently) silver!

The microscope is thought to have been made for the Prince of Wales, later George IV; it was presented to the Science Museum in 1949 by George VI. A similar example held by the Museum of the History of Science, Oxford is supposed to have been made for George III

George Adams was appointed mathematical instrument maker to the Prince of Wales (later George III) around 1756 and his family firm was one of the most prominent of those at work in London during the 1700s.

To view in 3D on the Science Museum website!

Science Museum Group. Silver microscope by George Adams, c. 1761.. 1949-116Science Museum Group Collection Online

[longlistshort]

Norman Zammitt: Gradations, currently on view at Palm Springs Art Museum, highlights the artist’s exploration of color and pattern through his large and small paintings, as well as his sculptural work.

From the museum-

This exhibition highlights Norman Zammitt’s extensive experiments with color and patterns through sculptures, prints, and paintings created between 1964 and 1991. Perceiving a divide between existing color theories and his own direct observation, Zammitt sought new ways of methodically organizing colors in his works across media. By the mid-1970s, he developed a complex mathematical system for mixing pigments in subtly varied shades. Arranging horizontal sections of solid colors in his signature band paintings, the artist produced a broad range of radiant color spectra.

Gradations is the first museum exhibition of Zammitt’s works since 1988. While he earned acclaim and exhibited widely during his lifetime, Zammitt’s achievements have not been as thoroughly examined as those of his peers in the Light and Space movement. This exhibition explores Zammitt’s unique position between West Coast Hard-Edge painting and California Light and Space art and provides insights into his underrecognized artistic accomplishments.

Born in 1931 to Mohawk and Sicilian parents in Toronto, Zammitt spent time on the Kahnawake reservation outside of Montreal before moving to Southern California at age fourteen. Until his death in 2007, Zammitt lived and worked in Los Angeles for the majority of his artistic career.

Zammitt also created paintings using jagged shapes for his “fractal” or “chaos” paintings, two of which are below.

From the museum-

Zammitt produced a series of large paintings based on his consideration of chaos theory. In these works, which he referred to as his “fractal” or “chaos” paintings, outlined shapes appear to fracture or break up the visual space of the canvas while the colors form a larger gradation. He transferred his systematic studies of color progressions into loosely ordered arrangements that contrast organization and irregularity. Zammitt drew inspiration from the mathematical concept that patterns emerge when seemingly random states of disorder and chaos are analyzed within a larger context.

The sculptural works in the exhibition continue his exploration of color and pattern, but using plastic.

From the museum-

Zammitt created new forms of sculpture and printmaking through his explorations of geometric shapes and patterns. Across both media, the artist developed methods of layering patterns to create mesmerizing visual effects. Through his sculptural works, he contributed to the emergence of plastic as an accepted artistic material. Zammitt arranged painted plexiglass sheets so as to juxtapose volume and transparent space in his boxes and rectangular sculptures. In his pole sculptures, he further explored sequences of color and transformed plastic by fusing together layers of colored acrylic. Zammitt also experimented with color and patterns in his lithograph prints, which overlay slightly offset arrangements of geometric forms.

Below are a selection of Zammitt’s plastic pole sculptures made of the layers of colored acrylic described above.

This exhibition closes 10/6/24.

[cromlechs]

부산수학문화관 / 서면(부산)

[love-in-my-twenties]

my first 2 weeks of holidays?

went to london with my family and friends. confirmed that it's my favourite city i've ever been in

survived a really fucked up drama with my brother and friends👍

celebrated the birthday of said brother but also my grandpa's and my best friend's

reminded myself that i still love photography:)

read the lantern of lost memories, definitely not one of my favourite books but i did enjoy it. i will also guiltily admit that may or may be not the first book i actually finished this year...

watched a few godzilla movies from 1960s and 70s

oh there was also euro, it was really fun, though i was kinda hoping that france will win😭 (but i have to admit that since spain won with germany it was quite clear who will win the whole tournament)

i was at ed sheeran's concert too!!! i already went once in 2018 so it was really magical to hear some songs for the second time (especially since concerts aren't usually my thing)

had a double-birthday (between my best friend's and mine) picnic with my friends

worked a bit on my haikyuu fanfics >.<

wrote a few songs

started watching pokémon (the first one, from 1997) and really got into pokémon go😭

Now I'm trying to get my shit together. I had a tough week but now I'm semi-ready to try to fight it off sooo~

I need to clean my home, which will def take me a while, but I also want to set some routines for myself, stop dehydrating and do some other self-care stuff, as well as catch up with some uni notes and sort out those I left disordered. Good luck for me and sorry for the length of the post lol

[dbunicorn]

Massively nerded out over the last two days. Archaeological museum & Herakleidon Museum. Absolutely worth it. Particularly for science geeks.

My stomach is happy and Dionysus is my patron god right now.

I also had the opportunity to sample a couple of digestifs. Possibly the best I've had but I'm nott a connoisseur. One with a cinnamon scent and another with a citrus, cardamon pepper scent and pink hue. Happiness in a shot glass.

[good-lobster]

From: http://web.archive.org/web/19990117071440/http://www.sci.metro-u.ac.jp:80/mathmuse/indexE.html

[daggersapphic]

as I was wearing my rings, I saw the phrase "colored by copper." and so i thought, hmm. stones and I actually have a lot in common.

[wanderingandfound]

Forever in love with how Friends at the Table interpreted the ttrpg archetype of "bard" as an archivist who does pattern magic.

[a-modernmajorgeneral]

Sofya Vasilyevna Kovalevskaya (born January 15, 1850, Moscow, Russia���died February 10, 1891, Stockholm, Sweden) was a mathematician and writer who made a valuable contribution to the theory of partial differential equations. She was the first woman in modern Europe to gain a doctorate in mathematics, the first to join the editorial board of a scientific journal, and the first to be appointed professor of mathematics.

In 1868 Kovalevskaya entered into a marriage of convenience with a young paleontologist, Vladimir Kovalevsky, in order to leave Russia and continue her studies. The pair traveled together to Austria and then to Germany, where in 1869 she studied at the University of Heidelberg under the mathematicians Leo Königsberger and Paul du Bois-Reymond and the physicist Hermann von Helmholtz. The following year she moved to Berlin, where, having been refused admission to the university on account of her gender, she studied privately with the mathematician Karl Weierstrass. In 1874 she presented three papers—on partial differential equations, on Saturn’s rings, and on elliptic integrals—to the University of Göttingen as her doctoral dissertation and was awarded the degree, summa cum laude, in absentia. Her paper on partial differential equations, the most important of the three papers, won her valuable recognition within the European mathematical community. It contains what is now commonly known as the Cauchy-Kovalevskaya theorem, which gives conditions for the existence of solutions to a certain class of partial differential equations. Having gained her degree, she returned to Russia, where her daughter was born in 1878. She separated permanently from her husband in 1881.

In 1883 Kovalevskaya accepted Magnus Mittag-Leffler’s invitation to become a lecturer in mathematics at the University of Stockholm. She was promoted to full professor in 1889. In 1884 she joined the editorial board of the mathematical journal Acta Mathematica, and in 1888 she became the first woman to be elected a corresponding member of the Russian Academy of Sciences. In 1888 she was awarded the Prix Bordin of the French Academy of Sciences for a paper on the rotation of a solid body around a fixed point.

Kovalevskaya also gained a reputation as a writer, an advocate of women’s rights, and a champion of radical political causes. She composed novels, plays, and essays, including the autobiographical Memories of Childhood (1890) and The Nihilist Woman (1892), a depiction of her life in Russia.

Memorial Museum-Estate of Sofia Kovalevskaya, Polibino, Pskov Oblast

[p0orbaby]

Born to Love You Back

summary: a very important question is on the horizon

warnings: none

a/n: some rich!reader for you all

word count: 1.7k

-

The jeweller’s salon is tucked into a narrow street in the 1st arrondissement, down a street so narrow you almost missed it, the kind of place that doesn’t need signage because everyone who matters already knows where it is. The building itself is unassuming but pristine, a five-storey townhouse with cream-coloured stone, wrought-iron balconies, a double door painted a deep charcoal with brass fixtures that gleam in the waning afternoon sun. Outside, a delivery van idles, spilling faint notes of Edith Piaf from its radio as a man unloads crates of flowers: cyclamen, lilies, eucalyptus branches arranged in bursts of green and white. They’ll likely find their way to the salon’s interior within the hour, arranged with almost mathematical precision to evoke a studied nonchalance.

Inside, it’s quiet—museum-like but less sterile, hushed but alive. There’s a balance between the soft hum of conversation from another room and the faint, barely perceptible scent of lilies and leather. The floors are a herringbone parquet, polished to an impossible sheen, and the walls are panelled in dove grey. Everything about the space is designed to whisper money. Even the receptionist, stationed behind a desk lacquered to such a high gloss that it might double as a mirror. She’s mid-twenties, probably just out of university—Sciences Po, perhaps, or one of the Grandes Écoles—wearing a black crepe shift dress that hits just above the knee. Chanel, you’d bet, though it’s hard to tell from here. Her hair is sleek and straight, parted sharply in the middle, her nails painted in Rouge Noir, a colour so iconic it’s practically shorthand for Parisian sophistication. She greets you in French first, then switches to English the moment she hears your accent, though her tone remains precisely the same—warm but not too warm, deferential but not subservient.

Aurélie is waiting for you on the stairs. She’s maybe late thirties, tall, with that certain froideur that women in her line of work cultivate like a second skin. Her blazer is Saint Laurent—black, sharply tailored, peak lapels—and her silk blouse is an ivory so fine it catches the light in a way cotton never could. Her trousers skim the tops of her Louboutin heels—black patent leather, red soles so subtle they barely register. Her jewellery is minimal but deliberate: a single strand of Mikimoto pearls, their lustre so perfect they almost look artificial, and a pair of matching studs. She smiles when she greets you, her lips painted a nude so neutral it could have come from any number of Tom Ford palettes, but you’d guess Casablanca.

“This way, please,” she says, gesturing towards the stairs with a hand that’s manicured in a soft ballet pink, not a chip in sight. You follow her up, noting the faint scent of her perfume—Chanel No. 19, not a popular choice but a discerning one, with its crisp notes of galbanum and iris that feel both professional and unapologetically feminine.

On the landing, there’s a painting—a still life, maybe Cézanne, maybe a very good imitation. You don’t stop to look, but it catches your eye enough to linger in your mind as Aurélie opens a door to the second-floor where Its quieter, darker. The walls are a deep navy—Farrow & Ball, maybe Hague Blue—and the rug beneath the central display case is thick enough to swallow the sound of your footsteps. The case itself is glass-topped and backlit, the kind of lighting that renders diamonds almost supernatural in their brilliance. The rings are arranged by cut and carat, each one nestled in its own velvet slot, the symmetry of the display both calming and slightly overwhelming.

Aurélie steps aside, giving you space but remaining close enough to anticipate your needs. She stands with her hands loosely clasped in front of her, her posture immaculate.

“Take your time,” she says, standing back with the same attentive grace she’s shown since you arrived.

You nod, your gaze already falling to the rings. You’ve thought about this for weeks, maybe months, but standing here, it feels more real, the weight of the decision settling in your chest. Not because you’re uncertain—you’re not—but because this is a moment you’ll remember, whether you want to or not.

The first ring is a cushion-cut diamond, two carats, set in a band of pave diamonds. Platinum, naturally. The proportions are flawless, the craftsmanship impeccable, but as you turn it in the light, you know immediately it’s wrong. Too ornate. Too eager. Alexia would hate it. You imagine her wearing it for a moment, and the thought feels so ridiculous you almost laugh. She doesn’t like excess, at least not in the obvious sense. Her taste is clean, modern, unfussy.

The second ring is pear-shaped, slightly smaller, but with a brilliance that draws your eye. The stone feels alive under the light, its facets catching every subtle movement of your hand. For a moment, you hesitate, thinking about how it would look on her hand, but then you remember something she said once, flipping through a magazine in bed: “Pear cuts are too delicate. They look like they’re trying too hard.”

You sigh, not quite aloud, but enough for Aurélie to notice. She steps closer, just enough to offer a quiet suggestion. “Does she have a preference?” she asks, her tone light, neutral. “For the setting, or the cut?”

“She likes things simple,” you say, the words coming out more clipped than you mean them to. It’s not her fault, this unease you feel. “Classic, but not boring”

Aurélie nods, her expression unchanged, and steps back again. You wonder if she can sense the weight of what you’re doing—if she’s seen enough of this to know the signs. The third ring catches your eye before you reach for it. A round brilliant diamond, 1.8 carats, set in a plain platinum band. No pave, no halo, no embellishments. It’s striking in its simplicity, the kind of ring that doesn’t need to assert itself because it knows what it is. You pick it up, holding it to the light, and as you turn it, something settles in you. This is the one. You don’t need to overthink it.

Aurélie smiles faintly, as though she already knew. “Shall I prepare it for you?” she asks.

You nod, handing it back, and she takes it with both hands, disappearing into a back room.

While she’s gone, you pull out your phone. You shouldn’t call her—she’s probably still at training, her mind on drills and tactics—but you do it anyway. She answers on the third ring, her voice steady but soft, with that familiar cadence you’ve missed more than you’d care to admit.

“Hey,” she says, her voice clear, grounded, with just the faintest lilt of distraction. In the background, there’s a low murmur of voices, the familiar thud of a ball meeting turf, maybe a coach shouting something that’s swallowed up by the wind. You imagine the sun slicing through the Catalan sky, the kind of relentless brightness that makes the whole city shimmer.

“Hey,” you reply, smoothing nonexistent creases from your blazer out of habit, though no one is watching. Your reflection in the polished glass of the display case looks composed, disinterested, but the sound of her voice pulls something taut inside you. “How’s training?”

“Same as always,” she says, and there’s a pause—just long enough for you to hear her exhale softly, almost imperceptibly. You know she’s stepped aside, moved to some quieter corner of the training complex where no one will overhear. She’s careful like that, never careless, always aware of her surroundings.

“Still exhausting?” you ask, and she laughs under her breath—a low, warm sound that lingers longer than it should.

“Mhm,” she hums, the sound of it makes you smile despite yourself. “But it’s a good kind of exhausting. You know how it is”

“Not sure I do,” you tease, leaning against the edge of the display case, its surface cool against your hand. “I can’t say I’ve run laps around a pitch lately. Unless you count running several businesses as exercise”

“Of course,” she says, dry but affectionate, “such an athlete. Truly inspiring”

The corner of your mouth twitches upward. “I aim to impress”

There’s a faint rustle of movement on her end—maybe she’s leaning against a wall, maybe adjusting the strap of her training bib. You picture her in that effortless way she carries herself: shorts sitting just right, socks perfectly rolled down, hair tied back in that half-loose, half-styled way that only someone like her can pull off.

“Where are you?” she asks, not because she doesn’t know, but because it’s the kind of question you ask when you want the conversation to last a little longer.

“Near Rue de la Paix,” you say, keeping it vague. “Finishing up a meeting”

“You’re always finishing up a meeting,” she says, and there’s a lightness to her tone, but it doesn’t quite hide the subtext.

“You’re always training,” you counter, matching her tone, and you hear her chuckle, soft but genuine.

“Buen punto”

There’s a brief pause. In the background, someone calls her name, a voice you don’t recognise, and she responds with a quick, sharp “Un momento.” The way she switches languages so fluidly—it’s seamless—and yet it reminds you, in a small but certain way, that her world is different from yours. Barcelona, with its golden afternoons and relentless sun, its terracotta rooftops and restless streets, feels a thousand miles away from the polished stillness of this Parisian jewellers.

“You should,” you encouraged knowing full well she’ll make no move to end the call herself.

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asks, and it’s a question, but not really.

“Of course,” you say, without hesitation this time.

There’s another silence after that, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the kind of silence you could live in, one where nothing needs to be said because the words are already understood. Finally, she says, “Te quiero,” and you hear the faint click as she ends the call.

Aurélie returns with the ring, now nestled in a velvet box so pristine it looks almost untouched by human hands. You slip it into your pocket, the weight of it grounding you, and leave the salon with a nod of thanks.

Outside, Paris feels sharper, brighter. The air smells faintly of rain and burnt sugar from a nearby crepe stand, and the light is just beginning to soften as dusk approaches. For the first time all day, you feel steady.

[copperbadge]

I recently got to go to Detroit to see some friends there, but I also had some time on my own, and I did one of my favorite things to do, which is go to a museum alone. Don't get me wrong, I love going with friends, but there's a specific pleasure in going to a museum to see only what you wish to see and not having to worry you're lingering too long or wandering too far. So I went to the Henry Ford Museum! It's a weird repository that combines "Things the Ford family thought were cool" and "things the curators probably thought the Ford family would think were cool" and "things some weirdo donated that are cool".

At the top there you got some great neon overlooking the "car" section, wherein are housed both an Edsel (which I got to look at while listening to a podcast about Edsels; I never realized that one of the main reasons they failed is that they have a very...genital-looking grille on the front) and the "safety car" of the future, which, your eyes do not deceive you, had an accordion folding door. Extremely safe I think you'll all agree.

One of the particularly fun bits of the museum is Mathematica, which as the sign says is an "artifact" but it's an artifact you can walk into; it's an exhibit on mathematics and physics that was designed in 1961, and has been kept as it was in 1961 so that you can see what museum exhibits of the day were like. I don't understand almost any of the content, but it's just cool to walk through something so unchanged. I love old museums; I understand they're often incorrect or problematic or both, but there's an allure there that I find undeniable.