Who Invented The Umbrella?

[Nané]

Umbrella

 

By Mary Bellis

 

The basic umbrella was invented over four thousand years ago. We have seen evidence of umbrellas in the ancient art and artifacts of Egypt, Assyria, Greece, and China.

 

These ancient umbrellas or parasols, were first designed to provide shade from the sun. The Chinese were the first to waterproof their umbrellas for use as rain protection. They waxed and lacquered their paper parasols in order to use them for rain.

 

The word "umbrella" comes from the Latin root word "umbra", meaning shade or shadow. Starting in the 16th century umbrella became popular to the western world, especially in the rainy weather of northern Europe. At first it was considered only an accessory suitable for women. Then the Persian traveler and writer, Jonas Hanway (1712-86), carried and used an umbrella publicly in England for thirty years, and he popularized umbrella use among men. English gentleman often referred to their umbrellas as a "Hanway."

 

The first all umbrella shop was called "James Smith and Sons". The shop opened in 1830, and is still located at 53 New Oxford St., in London, England.

 

The early European umbrellas were made of wood or whalebone and covered with alpaca or oiled canvas. The artisans made the curved handles for the umbrellas out of hard woods like ebony, and were well paid for their efforts.

 

In 1852, Samuel Fox invented the steel ribbed umbrella design. Fox also founded the "English Steels Company", and claimed to have invented the steel ribbed umbrella as a way of using up stocks of farthingale stays, steel stays used in women's corsets. African-American, inventor, William C. Carter patented an umbrella stand (U.S. patent#323,397 - see image left) on August the 8th, 1885.

 

After that, compact collapsible umbrellas were the next major technical innovation in umbrella manufacture, over a century later.

 

Source

[Nané]

UMBRELLA ETIQUETTE

 

• Helen Ruggieri

 

As with all things Japanese there is an art to using umbrellas and during the long rainy season you have time to learn it.

 

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June and part of July is the rainy season (tsuyu baiu) in Japan. The cold winds out of Siberia float over the warm Pacific waters and their love making produces rain. The winds rise, the rain begins, light, but constant. The sky is gray and overcast. Everyone whines about the weather as we do about snow. It is depressing. Once it rained for seven days in a row. The skin between my toes began to disintegrate. My cough sounded more like a quack. Two pairs of sandals dissolved. Dirty clothes piled up in the basket. Rain, rain, go away.

 

Given the assurance of rain (it makes the rice grow those chipper sorts squeal), you never travel without an umbrella. You always know you’ll need one. Folding umbrellas are not popular although I do see folks taking them out of their backpacks quite often. You have to fold them up and stuff them in a plastic bag. The pop-up umbrellas are favored. They pop open at the touch of a button. Quicker operation and valued for ease of use upon entering and exiting busses or taxis or other types of transportation which call for rapid movement.

 

As with all things Japanese there is an art to using umbrellas and during the long rainy season you have time to learn it. As you walk the crowded streets of Tokyo umbrellas bob up and down as those approaching gauge the rhythm of your walk and the pace of your approach multiplied by your height. The umbrellas pass without collision as eye contact reveals our intentions. Up, down, up down. We march along in a great rhythmic bobbing stream. The dance.

 

In New York City during a rainy August afternoon I noticed this agreement was not in force. People barrel along looking down, never noticing or caring about other umbrellas and their positions. Most New Yorkers used their umbrellas to clear themselves a space by knocking your umbrella aside. Not in Yokohama where the art is observed and civility is prized. If you do accidentally ruffle an umbrella, you call, sumimasen, hoping to excuse your clumsiness.

 

If you exit a bus or taxi first, you open your umbrella and hold it over the head of the person exiting behind you until he pops open his umbrella and so on. It takes a little agility, but you soon get on to it. It is a lot like getting the placement of shoes properly fixed so you can exit and enter places with grace. You do not like to hop around like a demented stork while trying to get foot one into the correct shoe which you left facing in the wrong direction.

 

As you enter stores there will be a container holding long plastic bags in which to deposit your umbrella while you browse. This prevents dripping over the premises. As you exit there is a container to recycle the wet plastic. Some shops have a rail outside to hand the umbrellas. No one steals them either. No one even takes your umbrella by accident. You gain an intimate knowledge of the characteristics of your umbrellas so you can pick it out of a crowd of others – all black pop-ups.

 

At the new Opera House in Tokyo there is an umbrella rack in the lobby to hold the thousands of umbrellas that the audience members have deposited. You twist in your umbrella and lock the lever. Each one has a chit with a number on it. This isn’t to preent umbrella thieves from making off with your parasol, but to prevent endless sorting upon exiting. You have the number so it is easy (and no charge either) to find the correct umbrella.

 

On some days a high wind accompanies the rain – twenty or thirty miles per hour – and driving sideways. Umbrellas, being what they are, cave, blow in or out or away. Abandoned spokes on a handle will hang like ominous robotic birds from unlikely places – power lines, limbs of trees, tops of hedges. On sunny days between the rains thousands of umbrellas hang from hooks and rails to dry out. Entire streets are filled with giant colorful blossoms (not all umbrellas are black). Peach and red and flowered and striped, they grow from every available perch.

 

On gomi pick up days discarded umbrellas perch from the lips of black plastic bags, rest on the curb, in the gutter. The most creative recycling of discarded umbrellas I saw during my visit to Japan was on a small strip of land between the highway and an exit ramp. A homeless person had constructed a huge shelter of umbrellas – more like a sculpture, a work of art, a great congregation of umbrellas billowing out like a geodesic dome.

 

© Helen Ruggieri 2002

[MosJan]

chhaskatsa ? menq HAyers et "ZonTiki" het kap chunenq ??

[Nané]

chhaskatsa ? menq  HAyers et "ZonTiki" het  kap chunenq ??

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tvyalner unes?

[Harut]

chhaskatsa ? menq  HAyers et "ZonTiki" het  kap chunenq ??

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mtahghatsum@ urenuts en vertsrel...

[MosJan]

Urrenin HAykakkan Tsara a?>

[Nané]

Urrenin HAykakkan Tsara a?>

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yete Hayastanum a "aprum" uremn haykakan a ...

 

(mi angam Hayastanits togharkvogh haghordman zhamanak mi mardu hartsnum ein ardyoq inq@ tut sirum e te voch? patasxanets: "de menq Hayastanum enq aprum, tutn el hayastanabnak tsar a ... uremn sirum enq")

[Arvestaked]

What I love about Europe is that you have companies founded so long ago still in operation. I was watching a Discovery Channel program on cannons and it introduced a family run company that has been casting bells for 500 years. Edited February 16, 2005 by Arvestaked