This brilliant study by an acclaimed architectural historian tells the origin of the memorial in the context of commemorating the war dead; it considers the giant classical brick arch in architectural terms, and also explores its wider historical significance and its resonances today. So much of the meaning of the twentieth century is concentrated here; the Thiepval Memorial to the Missing casts a shadow into the future, a shadow which extends beyond the dead of the Holocaust, to the Gulag, to the 'disappeared' of South America and of Tianenmen.
Reissued in a beautiful and striking new edition for the centenary of the Somme.
Before WWI, little provision was made for the burial of the war dead. Soldiers were often unceremoniously dumped in a mass grave; officers shipped home for burial.
The great cemeteries of WWI came about as a result of the efforts of one inspired visionary. In 1914, Fabian Ware joined the Red Cross, working on the frontline in France. Horrified by the hasty burials, he recorded the identity and position of the graves. His work was officially recognised, with a Graves Registration Commission being set up. As reports of their work became public, the Commission was flooded with letters from grieving relatives around the world.
Critically acclaimed author David Crane gives a profoundly moving account of the creation of the great citadels to the dead, which involved leading figures of the day, including Rudyard Kipling. It is the story of cynical politicking, as governments sought to justify the sacrifice, as well as the grief of nations, following the ‘war to end all wars’.
As Canada came into its own as a nation during the First World War, proving itself capable of standing alongside Britain on the world stage, scores of Canadians were awarded the Commonwealth’s highest award for pre-eminent acts of valour, self-sacrifice, or extreme devotion to duty, the Victoria Cross. For Valour details every Canadian VC recipient from the First World War. These men, ordinary servicemen from widely differing social backgrounds, acted with valour above and beyond the call of duty. Their stories and experiences offer a fresh perspective on the “war to end all wars.”
Series editor Gerald Gliddon and contributors Stephen Snelling, and Peter F. Batchelor, examine the men and the dramatic events that led to the granting of this most prized of medals. Each of the men’s stories is different, but they all have one thing in common — acts of extraordinary bravery under fire.
Barbara Carson explains how Virginia's eighteenth-century chief executives lived in the palace and used its public spaces to reinforce the image and authority of the British crown. She also discusses the inventory of Lord Botetourt, penultimate royal governor, an invaluable resource document that has answered many questions about the building and its contents.
Critics hated it. The public feared it would topple over. Passersby were knocked down by the winds. But even before it was completed, the Flatiron Building had become an unforgettable part of New York City.
The Flatiron Building was built by the Chicago-based Fuller Company--a group founded by George Fuller, "the father of the skyscraper"--to be their New York headquarters. The company's president, Harry Black, was never able to make the public call the Flatiron the Fuller Building, however. Black's was the country's largest real estate firm, constructing Macy's department store, and soon after the Plaza Hotel, the Savoy Hotel, and many other iconic buildings in New York as well as in other cities across the country. With an ostentatious lifestyle that drew constant media scrutiny, Black made a fortune only to meet a tragic, untimely end.
In The Flatiron, Alice Sparberg Alexiou chronicles not just the story of the building but the heady times in New York at the dawn of the twentieth century. It was a time when Madison Square Park shifted from a promenade for rich women to one for gay prostitutes; when photography became an art; motion pictures came into existence; the booming economy suffered increasing depressions; jazz came to the forefront of popular music--and all within steps of one of the city's best-known and best-loved buildings.