Rhoda Kellogg was a psychologist and a nursery school educator. Here investigations focused on the art of young children, that is, on early graphic expressions. From 1948 to 1966, she collected approximately one million drawings of young children of ages two to eight.
The day when some company of enemies of the community are forbidden, for example, to turn the fields of Kent into another collection of cinder heaps in order that they may extract wealth, unearned by them, from a mass of half-paid labourers; the day when some hitherto all powerful "pig-skin stuffed with money" is told that he shall not pull down some ancient building in order that he may force his fellow citizens to pay him additional rack-rent for land which is not his (save as the newly acquired watch of the highwayman is) - that day will be the beginning of the fresh new-birth of art in modern times.
In 1967, Rhoda Kellogg published an archive of c. 8000 drawings of children ages 24-40 months. (See Kellogg, R.: Rhoda Kellogg Child Art Collection. Washington, DC., Microcard Editions, Inc., 1967; now available at LexisNexis, Reed Elsevier, Inc..) Up to now, as far as we know, no other archive of early graphic expressions was ever published, including a large sample of pictures and presented according to a classification system. Thus, the archive has a historical status.
We know that periodic changes between waking and sleeping are perhaps the most fundamental traits of the behavior of adults; each of us actually leads a dual existence, and each part of our life – asleep and awake – is concentrated, occupying compact intervals of time. None of this applies to the newborn child. As demonstrated by the research of a number of scientists – most recently by Shchelanov in Leningrad – the newborn child is neither asleep nor awake. In his life, waking and sleeping are fragmented into an interwoven succession of very short periods of time which form a sort of intermediate state marked by the irradiation of excitability and inhibition.
“If I were to begin with the population, this would be a chaotic conception of the whole, and I would then, by means of further determination, move analytically towards ever more simple concepts, from the imagined concrete towards ever thinner abstractions until I had arrived at the simplest determinations. From there the journey would have to be retraced until I had arrived at the population again, but this time not as the chaotic conception of a whole, but as a rich totality of many determinations and relations.” Marx
The inlaid patterned tiles grace the walls of many structures worldwide, in patterns of mind-boggling intricacy called “girih.” Historians have always assumed that medieval architects meticulously developed the patterns with basic tools.
But manuals written by the architects to share tricks of the trade actually include model tiles—like geometrical tracings—that helped lay out the complex “girih” designs on a large scale, researchers discovered recently. The efficient system eventually allowed artisans to produce “quasicrystalline” wall patterns—a concept that was discovered by Western mathematicians just three decades ago.