From the days of the earliest astrologers to those of the latest satellite fly-bys, the planets that make up our solar system have fascinated mankind. Legends have been built up around them, assumptions (sometimes bizarre) have been made them, and gradually science has followed story to chart and label and analyse. Equal parts science, history, and personal essay, this is a tour from the sun to Pluto and beyond, through the science and mythology of each of the planets; and the educated professionals and rank amateurs who discovered and observed them.

I stumbled across this in the library and borrowed it because I thought I should read more science (seeing as I&#146m meant to dedicate myself to the stuff for the next forty-odd years). On the whole I&#146m glad I did. The personal-essay aspect adds a conversational tone that makes for easy reading and the history and mythology are interesting. (Oh, and there&#146s some good scientific facts in there, too.) I was particularly taken with the naming conventions for various solar system features, relying as they do on legend and literature. What took the book down a notch or several were the chapters on Mars and Uranus. The former was entirely a first-person narration by a lump of Martian rock in a museum, the latter a fictional letter from Caroline Herschel (sister and fellow-astronomer of William) to American astronomer Maria Marshall. Being so different from the style of all the other chapters, they jarred; and the formats struck me as affectations. Effective at conveying information, but still annoying. Though if you have an interest in science or history it is still well worth reading.

Rating: B-

Now reading: The Man Who Knew Too Much - G. K. & Me - John Rose - Isabel Wolff

I took a walk across town to take in some culture last Thursday. Above is Mark di Suvero's "Iroquois" sculpture which lies on a patch of green at 24th St and the Parkway. I wasn't crazy about it when I first saw photos of it after it was initially installed. I still didn't like it after driving by it a few times. But after walking right up to it and walking around it for a bit, I like it some. The lines in the sculpture are pretty heavy handed and aggressive.

I continued my stroll to the new Perelman Building which now houses the Philadelphia Museum of Art's prints, photo, fabric and textiles. My first stop was the Alfred Stieglitz show which had roughly 40 prints of his on display. It had some of his earliest photos: shots of traveling and of his family. It had later works: portraits and portraits of Georgia O'Keefe. It had landscapes of the area around his Lake George, NY home. Stieglitz laid the groundwork for the photography I love today. I thought it was a perfectly fitting first photo show for this new addition to the PMA. Oh how my heart would pitter patter if the following photo exhibitions would include Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange and Henri Cartier Bresson. Follow that up with the color of William Eggleston and beyond. I first thought that moving the non "classic" art (everything that isn't bronze, oil, charcoal and ink based) to the Perelman was casting it all aside. But now, I see the Perelman as a really great opportunity to let it really shine. On the intro placard of this show, it stated that the PMA has some 29,000 photos in it's collection; that's a lot of material with which to put together some wonderful shows.

Staying on the first floor, I stepped into the sculpture show: "A Conversation in Three Dimensions: Sculpture from the Collections" which started off with a great 9' tall Picasso bronze sculpture "Man with Sheep" (1944). The description stated that it was a statement on WWII with a calm man holding a struggling sheep. It was initially a man holding a bouquet of flowers in the initial etching, but it transformed into a struggling sheep reflecting the struggles of the time in Europe. An essay on the piece here. The sculpture above is titled "Palette with Wings" and is by Anselm Kiefer. It is made of lead. The description calls attention to the improbability of lead wings leading to flight and the wax wings of Icarus. The center of the sculpture is a gigantic painter's palette which has sprouted a gigantic set of ghastly wings, one of which has a tail of sorts which serves as a second anchor point adding to the structural support of the large and heavy sculpture. It's graceful and harsh at the same time. The welds are rough, the ends of the wings frayed. It stands well alone and in the far corner of the room. Apparently, it hasn't been displayed in awhile.

And here's a look at the skylit galleria. To the right is the entrance to the Perelman. The first opening to the left is where the Stieglitz show is. I put up a flickr set of my walk through the new building. The building has some incredible little details all over the place. The stairwell is lovely.

If you don't have any plans on New Year's Eve day, it's the last day the Perelman will be free to the public through a gigantic donation by Wachovia. I have no idea what admission is starting next year or if the Perelman will also by free on Sundays as the PMA main building is.

The NYT review. The WSJ's review. The Inky's Igna Saffron's take. Brad's walkthrough.

New York Oil Prices Rise Amid Geopolitical Tension