During this time, CIT consisted of four constituent schools: the School of Fine and Applied Arts, the School of Apprentices and Journeymen, the School of Science and Technology, and the Margaret Morrison Carnegie School for Women.

The role of the Quaternity in religious symbolism is discussed in depth in the writings of the Swiss psychologist Carl Gustav Jung. In essence, the Layer monument's four figurines represent spiritual entities which agree with Jung's analytical psychology, that the psyche moves toward individuation in fours (made up of pairs of opposites).[4][5][6][7]

The monument is notable on two accounts, firstly, its four figurines housed in its two columns, Pax and Gloria, Vanitas and Labor, are relatively rare examples of Northern Mannerist sculpture extant in Britain; secondly, these four figurines exemplify how, during the era of Elizabeth I, Christian iconography occasionally integrated symbolism which originated from the western esoteric traditions of alchemy and astrology into works of art, including funerary monuments.[1]


A box kite is a high performance kite, noted for developing relatively high lift; it is a type within the family of cellular kites. The typical design has four parallel struts. The box is made rigid with diagonal crossed struts. There are two sails, or ribbons, whose width is about a quarter of the length of the box. The ribbons wrap around the ends of the box, leaving the ends and middle of the kite open. In flight, one strut is the bottom, and the bridle is tied between the top and bottom of this strut. The dihedrals of the sails help stability.


A handsome young Christ in blue jeans leads a joyous jailbreak in “Jesus Rises” from “The Passion of Christ: A Gay Vision,” a series of 24 paintings by Douglas Blanchard. He holds hands with a prisoner as he steps upward, leading the captives to freedom. Jesus still bears the wounds of his crucifixion, but he glows with life and health. For the first time in this series, Jesus also has a halo. Beams of light shoot from his head in four directions, forming a diagonal cross behind him. Jesus does not bask in his own glory, but is determined to use his new-found power to free others. Christ is even more powerful as a liberator because he is also one of the prisoners. His inner light illuminates the shadowy crowd behind him.  


The three panels are enthralling to study mainly because of their myriad, hyper-realistic details, many of which have symbolic import. Wispy smoke curling up from a candle on the centered 16-sided wooden table suggests that Gabriel’s sudden appearance extinguished the flame. The Holy Spirit, represented by the tiny figure of a naked child hefting a cross over one shoulder, is zooming in toward the unsuspecting Mary from a high round window amid golden beams of light. White lilies in a Delftware pitcher on the table represent the innocence of the future mother of God’s only son. Scholars say that the mousetraps that Joseph has made in his workshop — there’s one on his bench and another on a shelf outside his window in the background — represent St. Augustine’s notion that Jesus’s crucifixion was a trap for Satan, a kind of Pyrrhic victory.


When I first looked at this centre panel I completely missed the small figure of the Christ Child with a wooden cross on his back reminding us of the future crucifixion.   So why this inclusion?   It has been included in this depiction of the Annunciation as what we see before us is also about the Incarnation, the point in time when God becomes man.


In the right-hand panel, we see Saint Joseph, who we know was a carpenter.  Again, like the central panel, there is an air of domesticity about the depiction with Joseph busying himself with his carpentry.  He sits at his bench busily drilling holes in a piece of wood.  On the table next to him we see all the tools of his trade.  Art historians believe each has its own symbolic meaning – the saw refers to the implement that St Peter used to cut off the ear of Malchus, during Christ’s betrayal and arrest; the log alludes to the cross of the crucifixion; the nails, hammers, chisels, pliers and screwdrivers are all likely references to the instruments of the Passion.


Saint Augustine wrote:

“…The devil exulted when Christ died, but by this very death of Christ the devil is vanquished as if he had swallowed the bait in the mousetrap.  He rejoiced in Christ’s death, like a baliff of death.  What he rejoiced in was his own undoing.  The cross of Lord was the Lord’s mousetrap; the bait by which he was caught was the Lord’s death…


Fascinating. It was strange for me to see the crosses on the buildings in the town outside the window as part of a triptych about a cruxifixion in the future. . As imaginative and outlandish as we think we are today with twilight-zone stories and digital effects, the faithful of the 15th century evidently felt at ease with the immediacy of an event that was not only spiritual but from long ago.

The Four Winds hat (in Northern Sami čiehgahpir) is one version of traditional man's hat of the Sami. The basis is a simple blue cylinder, decorated with a red band with braid patterns, but the top is a large, four-cornered star, colored bright blue with parts bright red and yellow. The decoration in an actual Sami hat is, like the rest of the Sami costume, indicative of the person's place of origin or even his clan, much like the Scottish tartan.

The hat was originally based on a Russian pattern learned in contact with Russians on the coast of the Barents Sea, but the top was exaggerated and the hat decorated with the traditional bright-colored embroidery to produce the Four Winds hat.[citation needed]

Sami knives

The Tomorrowland dwelling had a cruciform floor plan, a more elegant solution to bringing light and air into a "machine for living" than Le Corbusier had been able to devise. Each side of each arm of the cross was glazed, sill to ceiling. The mullions and rails between the panes were as pleasingly orchestrated as Mondrian's black stripes.