Snob Words: Making Sense of Words You Wish You Knew, But Don't



Snob words
are lexical aristocrats, highfalutin' words and phrases--often derived from foreign languages--that never appear on sixth-grade spelling tests. They're words you don't know, but feel you should know.

And because you don't know them, you often feel excluded.

For example, when Architectural Digest reveals that the actress of the moment has just installed an étagère in her pied-á-terre--and you're left racing to find a French dictionary app--you're a victim of snob words. Those fortunate enough to know the terms are in on the secret, while you're left standing behind the red velvet rope.

This blog is an attempt to demystify snob words, which show up frequently in publications that cater to well educated, upscale readers.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

etching

     To make an etching, a type of print, an artist begins by drawing a design on a wax-coated metal plate using an etching needle.  Wherever the needle touches the plate, it removes wax and exposes metal.  Once the design is finished, the plate is placed in an acid bath, which “bites” indentations into the exposed metal areas.
     The plate is later inked and wiped clean, leaving ink in the indentations only.  When paper is pressed firmly against the plate, the ink adheres to it, creating the design.
     The first dated etching is from 1513.  Rembrandt (1606-1669) is often considered the master of etching.  

A Rembrandt self-portrait etching dating to 1630.

chiaroscuro (key-ah΄-roh-SKOO΄-roh)

  Chiaroscuro (from the Italian claro, light, and obscuro, dark), is the technique of juxtaposing bright and dark areas in a painting to create drama, tension, and/or three-dimensional effects.
     Paintings in the chiaroscuro style generally have dark, nearly black backgrounds, while the main subjects shine as if illuminated by spotlights.
Rembrandt's Night Watch
     Rembrandt’s Night Watch is frequently cited as a prime example of the chiaroscuro technique.

screenprint

     A screenprint, as its name implies, is a print made by forcing paint through a mesh screen stretched over a wooden frame.  The process is also referred to as silkscreen printing, since early screens were made exclusively of silk.  Today, screens are also made of cotton, nylon, and metal.
     To produce a screenprint, the artist applies varnish or wax to the screen wherever he or she does not want the paint to pass through (the negative).  The screen is then placed over a piece of paper and paint is forced through the unvarnished or unwaxed areas of the mesh with a rubber blade, creating the design.
     Screenprinting was invented around 1900, but did not become widely used as a fine art medium until the Pop artists took it up in the 1960s.  Andy Warhol’s prints of Campbell’s soup cans are some of the most famous (and valuable) screenprints ever created.

passementerie (POSS΄-mahn-tree)

    I remember Sunday nights at my grandmother’s house, when my parents had to warn at least one of us children not to play with the the tassels and fringe on the living room curtains.
     Those decorative elements—along with braiding and other types of trim used on bed canopies, upholstered furniture, and throw pillows—are collectively called passementerie.
     Not as popular today as it was in centuries past, passementerie can still add the final touch of elegance to formal and period rooms.
     High quality passementerie is expensive, since much of it must be done by hand, which is why my parents warned us to stay away from it.
     “Spina specializes in high-end, handmade passementerie....  Needless to say, all this froufrou does not come cheap. The satin-ribbon curtain tieback has strands of Swarovski crystal beads and costs about $550. The smaller, 2- to 3-inch tassels, of suede and the feathers of a guinea fowl, are about $40 each.” (New York Times, March 13, 2003)

File:Orna118-Quasten.png
Passementerie styles from A Handbook of Ornament,
a late 19th-century pattern book.

bergère (bear-ZHAIR΄)

     A bergère, in contrast to an open-armed fauteuil (see post), is any armchair with closed arms, or in other words, with upholstery in the area between the arms and the seat.  Most antique bergères have rounded backs and wide seats, designed to accommodate the wide dresses worn by 18th-century society women. 
     While wide dresses are no longer fashionable, of course, bergères—especially those of the Louis XIV, Louis XV, and Louis XVI periods—are highly sought after by collectors.
     “One of the conversation groupings sits under the gaze of a Botero oil painting, whose subject looks onto such exquisite furnishings as a gilded Louis XVI bergère covered in green silk velvet from Prelle and a seat made from a 17th-century Beauvais tapestry....” (robbreportcollection.com)

Christie's, French Walnut Bergere

atelier (ah΄-tell-YAY΄)

     Atelier is French for "artist’s studio" or "craftsman’s workshop."  
     Snobby art critics and collectors often use atelier when referring to certain artists’ studios, usually those who are French or have worked in France.  
     One of these is Pablo Picasso, a Spaniard who had his first Paris atelier on a winding cobblestone street in the Montmartre district.
     Atelier packs a punch when thrown out in casual conversation.  Try something along these lines at your next board meeting:
     "Forgive me for coming in late.  I had lunch with David Hockney at his atelier, and traffic was a nightmare on the way back."

Photos of Picasso's first Paris atelier, now a vacation rental on FlipKey


fauteuil (foh-TAY΄-yuh)

     The term fauteuil, French for ‘armchair,’ describes a chair with a primarily exposed wooden frame; in other words, there are open spaces between its arms and its seat.
     The seats of fauteuils are generally upholstered, while their backs may or may not be covered with fabric.  The word fauteuil came into French from an Old German word for ‘folding chair’—faltistuol.
     While fauteuils are not foldable, they are light enough to pull up to the fire or to move across the room to join a conversation.
     Architectural Digest used the term in 2012 to describe the work of designer Penny Drue Baird (2012 AD 100: Penny Drue Baird).

     Architectural Digest used the term in 2012 to describe the work of designer Penny Drue Baird (2012 AD 100: Penny Drue Baird). 

     “Classic French decor is integral to Penny Drue Baird’s design philosophy, even when her interiors don’t feature a single bergère or fauteuil: Baird’s Manhattan firm, Dessins (which also has a Paris outpost), employs the logic, proportion, and panache associated with French masters of days gone by.”  (Architectural Digest, January 2012)

Louis IV fauteuil.

gouache (GWAHSH)

     Unless you're an artist, you've probably seen the term gouache at least a hundred times in print or in art galleries,  but you've never understood exactly what it meant.  Allow me to enlighten you.
     Gouache is a paint made by mixing watercolor pigments with white paint or glue.  While watercolor is transparent, making it difficult to correct mistakes, gouache is opaque enough to cover underlying paint.
     Poster paint—that chalky powder you mix with water to make banners for school or church events—is a form of gouache 


Pablo Picasso, Boy with a Dog, 1905.
Gouache on cardboard.

objet d’art (ŌB΄-jay-DAH΄)

     The term objet d’art, French for ‘art object,’ refers to small decorative objects that one might place in an étagère (see post).  Be careful with the plural:  it’s objets d’art, not objet d’arts.)
     A wide variety of items can be considered objets d’art, but a piece must possess a certain degree of artistic merit to belong to the category.  Examples include jeweled pieces meant for display (such as Fabergé eggs), fine glassware, porcelain figurines, other ceramics, small statues, and miniature paintings.
     In addition to finding homes in etageres, objets d’art are often displayed on coffee tables, desks, and side tables.
     He was only half-joking.  With digital competition, hardcover books are being judged by their covers more than ever before, some earning their keep in the home and heart by doubling as objets d’art. (Chicago Tribune, December 9, 2011)
Fabergé eggs are some of the most extraordinary objets d'art ever created. 

étagère (ay-tah-ZHAIR΄)

     An étagère is a set of shelves—either free-standing or set into a wall—used to display small precious objects, such as ceramics, metalwork items, or curios (see post on objet d’art).
     In Victorian times, étagères were referred to as "what-nots," and my mother calls her étagère a "curio cabinet," so we do have English names for these pieces of furniture.
     For full snob effect, however, refer to them by their French name.


Etagères can range in style from chinoiserie...


to starkly modern.

lithograph (LITH΄-ə-graf

    Lithograph is a term you may have heard now and then, but do you know what it means?  I've been chided by a poster-monger in Park City for my ignorance of the term, so I'll let you in on the secret.
     A lithograph is a type of print (an artistic work reproduced through some mechanical process, as opposed to an "original" work of art) created through lithography, a process which depends on the fact that water and oil don’t mix.  Because lithography is time-consuming and technical, most artists simply produce designs for lithographs and hire skilled technicians to make the actual prints.
     To create a lithographic print, the technician first transfers the artist’s design to a zinc or aluminum plate using oil-based ink.  (Originally, a piece of limestone was used instead of a plate—hence the name, lithography, from the Greek lithos, stone, and graphein, to write.)
     Next, the plate is moistened with water, which forms a stencil, since it adheres only to the un-inked areas.  The plate is then inked with oil-based ink, which adheres only to the previously inked areas.  A print is made by pressing a piece of paper against the inked plate.
    Lithography was invented in Germany in 1798.  While many contemporary artists produce lithographs, two masters of the genre are 19th-century French artists Honoré Daumier and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.

A Toulouse-Lautrec lithograph in six colors from 1892.

trompe l’oeil (TOME΄-play)

     Trompe l’oeil, French for ‘deceives the eye,’ is a visual illusion that tricks the eye into seeing flat, painted detail as three-dimensional.
              While the technique appears in fine art from time to time, the term generally refers to decorative painting, such as murals and faux finishes.  For example, trompe l’oeil can be used to make an indoor room seem surrounded by garden trellises or to make wooden surfaces look like marble.
              “When Elsa Schiaparelli launched her first fashion craze in 1927—sweaters with whimsical trompe l’oeil bows—she hadn't had any training in clothing design.” (Departures, September 2003)


File:Mantegna.jpg
Trompe l'oeil mural on ceiling of  Castell San Giorgio, Mantua, Italy.

Old Master

           The term Old Master refers to a group of artists—generally painters—as well as their works.  While the term is not exact, it generally includes artists and works from the year 1350 (often considered the beginning of the Renaissance) through 1800.
           Accordingly, Leonardo da Vinci and Rembrandt are Old Masters, but Monet and Van Gogh are not.  Likewise, the Mona Lisa (begun around 1503) is an Old Master, while Van Gogh’s Irises (1889) is not.
           The term Old Master is sometimes used to imply high quality, but this is not always the case, since major auction houses use the term chronologically.  As a result, an auction of Old Masters could include masterpieces as well as works of lesser quality from the period.


Da Vinci's Mona Lisa is an Old Master.

boiserie (BWUZZ΄-ree)

               In French, boiserie means ‘wood paneling’ in general, but in English, the word usually refers to a style of paneling used in the 17th- and 18th-century palaces and noble residences of Europe.
                Boiserie of this type consists of large panels of fine wood (such as oak or mahogany) painted or stained in various colors and carved with decoration in shallow relief.
                In the Rococo style (18th century), the paneling was often painted white, with the decoration picked out in gold.
                Society columnist Aileen Mehle (who writes under the pen name "Suzy"), used the term in describing a change of apartments:
                               “I would have to move, leaving behind a large duplex with a ballroom, magnificent boiserie, a fireplace of marble and lustrous carved wood, and, most memorably, two floor-to-ceiling paintings....”  (Architectural Digest, January 2012)
                You, too, can use the word to garner snob appeal by tossing out comments like this:
                                 "We have three maids.  One of them spends all her time polishing the dining room boiserie."

Photo of rare French boiserie from late 17th century


Saturday, June 16, 2012

ancien régime (ahn-SYAWN΄-ray-ZHEEM΄)

              The term ancien régime, ‘old rule,’ in French, refers to the political and social system in France before the Revolution of 1789.
               In a design sense, the term refers to the decorative styles used by the French courts and aristocracy, most notably during the reigns of Louis XIV (Baroque), Louis XV (Rococo), and Louis XVI (Neoclassical).
     While each of these styles is unique, they all make use of the finest materials and craftsmanship.
     Here's how design magazines use the term ancien régime:
     “The First Empire was a virile moment in French decor, when the froufrou and pastels of the ancien régime surrendered to the martial style of an age whose hunger for grandeur coexisted with a penchant for severity.” (Architectural Digest, September 2011) 
     And here's how to drop the term into conversation:
     "As you know, Doris and I collect 18th-century French furniture.  None of that modern stuff for us!  If it isn’t ancien régime, we won’t look twice at it."

File:Chateau Versailles Galerie des Glaces.jpg
The Palace of Versailles is the epitome of  ancien régime style.
Seen here is the Hall of Mirrors.

triptych (TRIP΄-tick)

              A triptych (rhymes with cryptic) is a painting or carving consisting of three separate canvasses or panels meant to be displayed as a group.    
The term comes from the Greek triptychos, “having three folds,” a word the Romans adopted to refer to a writing tablet made of three panels connected by hinges.    
Artists in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance used this hinged, three-piece format for altarpieces, which made the works easy to transport.
Modern artists, including Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein, and David Hockney, have also used the triptych format.
A diptych (DIP΄-tik), is a painting or carving consisting of two panels.

File:Mathis Gothart Grünewald 019.jpg
Matthias Grunewald's Isenheim Altarpiece is a triptych.

chinoiserie (sheen-WUZ΄-er-ee)

      Chinoiserie is a decorative style, especially popular in the 18th century, in which Chinese motifs—authentic or dreamed up by Westerners—were applied to furniture, screens, wallpaper, porcelain and other decorative accessories.  Some chinoiserie actually came from China (often with designs tailored specifically to the Western market) but much of it was produced in the West.
             For example, the 18th-century English furniture maker Thomas Chippendale designed many pieces in what he called the “Chinese” style.  These included chairs and bookcases with elaborate fretwork, beds in the shape of pagodas, and wooden mirrors carved in the form of Chinese lanterns.
             Fine art during the 18th century was also influenced by the craze for chinoiserie.  French artists Jean-Antoine Watteau and François Boucher included dragons, exotic birds and other Chinese motifs in their paintings.
              Chinoiserie is still popular today, often as part of the eclectic English country house look.  Here's how Traditional Home used the term on its website:
             “A traditional four-poster ivory-painted chinoiserie-style tester bed from Mary McDonald, Inc., is a visual feast with open fretwork, faux bamboo in bas-relief, and pagoda-style finials.”   (traditionalhome.com)


Louis XV chinoiserie secretaire.

soigné (swahn-YAY΄)

     A person is soigné (spelled soignée when referring to females, although the pronunciation is the same) if he or she is elegantly dressed and well groomed.  Soigné is the opposite of unkempt or poorly dressed.  The word can be used thus:

     Daniela, whom Kyle had met at the surf competition, looked surprisingly soignée at the benefit concert:  she was wearing a black Chanel suit with her hair in a chignon.

     Soigné is an easy snob word to work into your own vocabulary.  For example, you can slip it into a water cooler conversation like this:

     Our Danny looked so soigné at the rehearsal dinner!  He’s always been handsome, of course, but his perfectly tailored Hugo Boss suit—and his new short haircut—were such a change from his jeans, t-shirts, and dreadlocks.


Actor Cary Grant was known for being soigné.

chaise longue (shez-LOAN΄-guh)

   A chaise longue is a long upholstered chair designed to allow a single person to recline.  But we’re not talking about La-Z-Boys—chaises longues have no moving parts.  
       Chaises longues exist in many styles, from the 18th-century carved wooden versions made for Marie Antoinette to stark modern styles that resemble black leather beach chairs.  While modern chaises longues do not always have arms, most antique versions have an armrest on at least one side.
       Chaises longues are often incorrectly referred to as chaise (pronounced “chase”) lounges.  Don’t make that mistake, although you will see the incorrect term in print from time to time.
Also, be careful with the plural.  In proper French it is chaises longues, but the anglicized chaise longues is also considered acceptable.


Louis XV chaise longue.

Friday, June 15, 2012

sfumato (sfoo-MAW΄-toh)

  Let's discuss another art term.
     If you’ve ever driven around Los Angeles, you’ve experienced sfumato.  Through the smog, everything takes on a misty, ethereal quality—Golden Arches meld imperceptibly with the San Gabriel Mountains, palm fronds dissipate into the gray of the Disneyland Matterhorn.  It’s all very delightful until you remember PM-10s are responsible for the effect.
            Fortunately, the sfumato technique used in paintings won’t give you lung cancer.  The term, which comes from the Italian fumo (“smoke”), describes the process of blending colors so carefully that they merge without a visible outline, resulting in a ‘smoky,’ soft-focus look.  Leonardo da Vinci was a pioneer of the sfumato style, which was in stark contrast to the earlier Italian tradition of sharp outlines.  
            You can see sfumato at work in the Mona Lisa, especially where the subject’s right cheek blends with her hair.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

en plein air (on-plane-AIR΄)

I was in an art gallery with my kids one afternoon when we paused in front of a group of large, Impressionist-style landscapes.
     “Did the artist go outside to paint these?” asked ten-year-old Andy.
     I didn’t know, since I’d never heard of the artist, so I asked the stiff, sour-faced woman behind the desk if the paintings had been done outdoors.
     This self-styled High Priestess of Art paused a moment, looked down her nose, sniffed, and said, “Yes, they’re plein air."
     There’s nothing like art to bring out the snob in people.  Whether it’s snooty gallery employees, uppity collectors, smug academics, or condescending artists themselves, the art world offers enough snob words to keep a blog like this going for decades.
     But for now, let's focus on the phrase en plein air, which is pronounced on-plane-AIR΄.  It means ‘in the open air’ in French, and refers to the practice of sketching or painting outdoors.  While artists had been making outdoor sketches since the 17th century, the invention of paint tubes in the late 19th century made it practical to bring paintings to near completion outside.
Painting en plein air became the norm for the Impressionists, especially for Claude Monet, who did most of his painting outdoors.
Of course, as demonstrated by the woman in the art gallery I mentioned, there is no good reason--other than snobbery--for a native speaker of English to say or write en plein air.  The English phrases "outdoor painting" or "painted outdoors" are perfectly good alternatives.
But if you're determined to be a snob, here are a two suggestions for using the phrase:
     1.  You’re outside, in a park, with a friend, when you notice a woman sitting behind an easel working on an oil painting.  “How charming,” you say, “she’s painting en plein air!”  (Be sure to say the phrase loud enough so that everyone in the park can hear you.)
     2.  You're at work, and you want to put that uppity supervisor in her place.  As she walks by, pretend you're talking on the phone and say the following:  "Edgar and I don't collect anything that was painted indoors.  Oh, no, it's nothing but plein air for us."