Cultures: Concrete or Continuous?

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BY LAURA CURLIN

Islam was present in Spain from 711 to 1492, but was all art produced during that time Islamic? Islamic power in al-Andalus varied greatly from the conquest under Tariq ibn Ziyad til the fall of Granada. During Umayyad rule, art was subject to the political necessity to differentiate Andalusia from the rest of the Islamic world, developing its own form of Islamic art.

Cylindrical box (pyxis), 10th century, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

From 661 to 750, the Umayyad caliphate ruled over the entire Muslim world, including Spain. However, the rise of the Abbasid dynasty created a split between Spain and the rest of the Muslim world. While the Abbasids killed nearly all of the Umayyad family, one member, Abd al-Rahman fled to Spain. There, he declared himself king and established a dynasty separate from the Abbasids. This fracture was peaceful, however, and trade continued between al-Andalus and Abbasid lands. In 929, Abd al-Rahman III declared that himself caliph and took up a more imperial, rather than local, view. In art, this was manifested in “a newly imperial attitude, which was symbolized by architectural construction” (Rosser-Owen 20). New designs mixed local styles, such as the horseshoe arch used in Visigoth churches, allusions to the Syrian roots of the Umayyads, like using bands of different colored stone. Thus, architecture was used to reinforce the regime’s legitimacy by emphasizing its history while differentiating the kingdom from the rest of the Islamic world.

Capital, 10th century, Cordoba, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Early Umayyad architecture carefully imitated Roman capitals and columns. Some Umayyad capitals from the 9th century has even been mistaken for older Roman work. A taste for this classical style was renewed in the 10th century, resulting in the production of new capitals, such as the one above. At the top, a brief inscription can be discerned, perhaps naming its maker, though the damage makes it impossible to know for sure. References to Roman architecture was another method of distancing the Andalusi Ummayads from the rest of the Islamic world. Under ‘Abd al-Rahman and his son, al-Hakam II, extensive construction in Cordoba and Madinat al-Zahra led to the development of a distinctly Umayyad aesthetic for capitals. Capitals made in this period are characterized by deep undercutting, as shown in the example above. Capitals made by the imperial ateliers often included the name of the caliph, rather than those of the artists that made them.

Casket, 961-965, from Madinat al-Zahra or Cordoba, from the Victoria and Albert Museum

Boxes carved from solid ivory were used to store jewelry and other precious objects. The casket shown above “share[s] the dynastic style of the architecture of the period: the walls… are decorated with the same symmetrically scrolling designs based on plants and flowers as the walls of the throne room at Madinat al-Zahra’ and the mihrab at the Great Mosque of Cordoba” (Rosser-Owen 27). Such caskets were often given to women as marriage gifts and thus featured designs symbolic of fertility. The inscription informs us that it was made for a daughter of ‘Abd al-Rahman, though it does not include her name, making a precise identification difficult. This casket’s silver work is also probably original and elegantly matches the carving on the walls. Whereas in other regions ivory was used as an inlay, the Umayyads in al-Andalus were able to use solid ivory because they had access to trade routes in North Africa. 

Although Spanish art under the Umayyad caliphs is generally included in studies of Islamic art, it was subject to unique influences and political pressures that differentiate it. Andalusi art was influenced by prior Christian art in the Iberian peninsula, the materials available to them, and the political need to appear distinct from the Abbasid caliphate. Spain was on the margins of the Islamic world.

Department of Islamic Art. “The Art of the Umayyad Period in Spain (711-1031)”. In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000-. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/sumay/hd_sumay.htm (October 2001)

Rosser-Owen, Mariam. Islamic Arts from Spain. London: V&A Publishing, 2010.

BY LAURA CURLIN

BY LAURA CURLIN

Although Pakistan is now officially known as the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, the region has been, and continues to be home to several faiths, including Buddhism. Asia Society’s exhibition, “The Buddhist Heritage of Pakistan: Art of Gandhara,” provided a view of Pakistan’s Buddhist history. In the kingdom of Gandhara, in what is now northern Pakistan, Buddhist culture thrived in the 1st through 5th centuries under Kushan kings. In Pakistan, Indian, Persian, and Hellenistic styles combined to form a unique aesthetic. Cosmopolitan Gandhara was tolerant of all religions, demonstrated by the images of Hindu deities included in Asia Society’s show, but the majority of its art is Buddhist. However, because Pakistan’s Islamic identity is currently emphasized as a contrast to Hindu India, this Buddhist inheritance is often ignored in favor of local Islamic art.

Vision of a buddha’s paradise. Mohammed Nari, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province. 4th century CE, from Lahore Museum

The central Buddha in this carving is holding his hands in a gesture of teaching, as he instructs the bodhisattvas and followers that surround him. While the Buddha wears South Indian clothing, the surrounding figures wear a variety of dress, demonstrating the variety of international influences present in Gandhara. Though early Buddhist art did not depict Buddha, but rather used symbols, such as his footprint, to represent him, Gandharan art includes some of the earliest images of Buddha. The classic Gandharan Buddha stands and whose “facial features are symmetrical and crisply cut, and idealized” (Cotter). Much of the extant Buddhist art from Gandhara consists of carvings depicting the Buddha’s life, though their exact context remains largely unknown. Buddhist art in Gandhara began to decline after the 6th century due to the destruction of monasteries in Taxila by the White Huns, a revival of Hinduism in the region, and the arrival of Islam. 

Seated Vairochana (The Transcendent Buddha of the Center), 9th century- early 10th century, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

This bronze Buddha was made after Islam was introduced to Pakistan by the general Muhammad bin Qasim in 711. A series of Muslim kingdoms, empires and sultanates controlled all or parts of Pakistan, from the Ghaznavids (976-1148) to the Mughals (1526-1857). Although parts of southern Pakistan converted quickly, significant numbers of Buddhists, Hindus, and Sikhs remained in northern Pakistan, where the influence of Gandharan history was strongest.

“Akbar Hunting”, Folio from an Akbarnama (History of Akbar), late 16th century, probably from Lahore, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

When this folio was made, Pakistan would have been part of the Mughal empire. This folio portrays an event in the life of Akbar, the third Mughal emperor. Akbar conquered Pakistan as he greatly expanded the Mughal empire. Akbar commissioned many illustrated manuscripts from from his royal atelier at Lahore. The city was his principle residence after 1585 and a cultural center of the empire. The style of illustrations developed under Akbar came to be known as the Mughal style, though it continued to be refined. Images showing victory in battle emphasized the power of the Mughals.

Calligraphy Panel by Sadequain, 20th century. From the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History.

Much of Pakistan’s modern art also includes Islamic motifs or Arabic calligraphy. This painting by Sadequain features Arabic in the form of ships. The inscription on the boats reads, “In the name of the memorable Qur’an. In the name of the glorious Qur’an. In the name of the pen [and anything it writes].” Such allusions to Pakistan’s Islamic identity are used for the political purpose of developing a national identity independent from India. Pakistani modern art is noted for its mixture of Western styles with local Islamic practices. 

photo from Shabnam Bahar Malik’s article

Taxila is an ancient Gandharan city and home to an important Buddhist architectural site. Master sculptors continue to produce statues of Buddha in Taxila  despite pressure to conform to an interpretation of Islamic ideology prohibiting figural art. The artists often keep their work private for fear of being “cursed by their own families” or threatened by the local clergy (Malik 196). The production of replica Buddhas is highly restricted, in theory to prevent or discourage the smuggling of antique Buddhas out of Pakistan. The reproduction Buddhas are made in workshops under the organizing eye of a master sculptor and sold to middlemen, who sell the pieces to international buyers. In addition to legal issues, the stone sculpting tradition is threatened by the presence in the market of cheaper, lower quality replica Buddhas produced using a mold. While these sculptors have continued the use of traditional techniques for centuries, their livelihood is currently at risk due to government regulations meant to protect Pakistan’s antiques.

Ali, Attega. “Modern Art in West and East Pakistan”. In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000-.http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/wepk/hd_wepk.htm (October 2004)

Asia Society. The Buddhist Heritage of Pakistan: Art of Gandhara. Accessed May 4, 2012. http://sites.asiasociety.org/gandhara/.

Cotter, Holland. “When East Met West Under the Buddha’s Gaze.” Review of The Buddhist Heritage of Pakistan: Art of Gandhara, by Asia Society. New York Times, August 10, 2011. Accessed May 4, 2012. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/12/arts/design/the-buddhist-heritage-of-pakistan-art-of-gandhara-at-asia-society-review.html?pagewanted=all.

Malik, Shabnam Bahar. “Sang-tarash: The Legendry Master Sculptors of the Ancient Buddhist Sculptural Art of Gandhara in Taxila.” Asian Social Science 7, no. 10 (October 2011): 195-212. Accessed May 4, 2012. CCSNet.

“Pakistan’s Historical Background.” Information of Pakistan. Accessed May 6, 2012. http://www.infopak.gov.pk/History.aspx. 

Department of Islamic Art. “The Art of the Mughals before 1600”. In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000-. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/mugh/hd_mugh.htm (October 2002).

BY NORA ORTON

According to Bernard Lewis, Islamic cultures are backwards-looking and unevolved. This idea that Islamic society has undergone cultural decadence is especially salient in the art community. Finbarr Barry Flood, however, objects to this notion that Islamic culture has precipitously declined. Flood quotes Mahmood Mamdani, author of “Good Muslim, Bad Muslim—an African Perspective”:

When I read of Islam in the papers these days, I often feel I am reading of museumized peoples. I feel I am reading of people who are said not to make culture, except at the beginning of creation, as some extraordinary, prophetic act.

Mamdani’s sentiment not unmerited. In 1854 French writer and photographer Maxime Du Camp said, “Egyptian art is not even in decadence, it simply no longer exists.”

  Maxim du Camp

Even proponents of spreading Middle Eastern culture, such as Oliver Watson, chief curator of the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha, have internalized this idea of decline. This lack of self-confidence is surprising, considering the lavish and cutting edge design of the museum:

Innovative Spiral Staircase

Outside the Museum

In justifying the existence of the museum, Watson said,

People say that at this moment it is more important to recognize that the Middle East and the Islamic world was in its day as advanced culturally, as well as economically and militarily, as any country or empire in the world.”

According to Flood, “the qualifier ‘in its day’” perpetuates Lewis’s ideology and ultimately “reinforces narratives of fallen greatness….”  

To consider Islamic countries to be backwards looking is to deny the existence of the prolific street artists seen during the Arab Spring, as well as myriad contemporary artists not involved in the protests. We have studied Arab Spring art quite a bit, so I will not belabor the point. But I found this piece in particular to directly refute Lewis’s theory:

This piece is on a Tunisian wall and is emblematic of the movement to depose the dictator Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali. A weak, peasant-like man literally sows the seeds of change. Out of the ground pops up multiple fists of revolution, symbolizing the fervor for change and how the push is coming from the bottom up (“grass roots”). Also the piece is dynamic: it seems as though the man has been moving along the plane of the wall. While it is tempting to “museumize” Islamic culture, as it was so vibrant during the Medieval period, the art that present day Middle Easterners are creating is equally engaging and evocative.

BY NORA ORTON

Bernard Lewis was planning to be a lawyer. As an undergraduate at the University of London in the mid 1930’s, Lewis made a whimsical choice to study history, specifically the Middle East, “out of curiosity.” Lewis decided to study what “amused” him as an undergrad but did not plan on pursuing it, because “it never occurred to [him] that one could actually earn a living doing this sort of stuff.” Lewis dedicated himself to the understanding of Middle Eastern life and “learnt a couple of languages. Arabic, Hebrew, Persian, Turkish.” What began as Lewis’s choice to study this small subfield of history at University of London became full-fledged scholarship. Lewis specialized in the medieval era, but after college, Lewis’s studies extended to more contemporary times: “Between 1940 and 1945 I was on his majesty’s service, and that gave me an opportunity to see the modern Middle East.”

Decades later Lewis would become a professor at Princeton University and political advisor to the George W. Bush administration.  As tensions brewed between the United States and various Middle Eastern nations, the demand for scholarship on the Middle East soared. According to Gerd Nonneman, Chatham House’s Middle East Advisory Board member, “The war in Afghanistan, the ‘war on terror’, the Iraq crisis and subsequent war, and the perception of increased unpredictability and reach of violent Islamist movements in east and west, north and south, have all served to heighten the desire to understand, predict and, perhaps, preempt.” Suddenly, departments of Middle Eastern Studies appeared in universities across the United States. The government sponsored conferences to further the study and understanding of  “the orient.” Of his sudden popularity, Lewis said in a CSPAN interview, “What suddenly catapulted me into this kind of prominence was…an article which I published in the Atlantic Monthly in September ’90.” The piece was entitled “The Roots of Muslim Rage.”

After learning more about Lewis’s background, the contents of this article make much more sense. In the 1930’s, the prevailing school of thought was orientalism. Lewis mentions that other scholars view the present situation in the Middle East differently than he. Scholars with a different perspective include, according to Lewis, “those who regard the whole discipline of Orientalist school of thought in which I grew up to be evil, to be a form of imperialism.” One such scholar is Said, who wrote about this type of study in the widely read book, Orientalism. Said explains that the western orientalist, in studying the east, constructs an exotic other out of the eastern peoples. Said accuses orientalists of painting the east as “monolithic and homogenous.” Orientalist thought not only characterizes all Middle Easterners as the same, but also operates under the assumption that the peoples have not changed over time. While this type of study was popular in the 1930’s, when Lewis was an undergraduate, many have since discredited it as an unfair and untrue way to view the Middle East.

Other aspects of Lewis’s study also make sense given his background. For example, Lewis holds the view that Middle Eastern culture has precipitously declined since the Middle Ages. He writes that Eastern states have attempted to emulate the West’s political and economic policies because they are ashamed of their stagnancy:  “This desire arose from a keen and growing awareness of the weakness, poverty, and backwardness of the Islamic world as compared with the advancing West.” Given that Lewis focused his studies on the medieval period, and had not even been to the modern Middle East until his majesty sponsored his trip, it is less surprising that Lewis believes the culture has decayed since then. If Lewis were an expert on the contemporary Middle East, he might have studied the protest art of the Arab Spring or the effluence of contemporary art being made even before these revolutions.

It is also noteworthy that His Majesty patronized Lewis’s scholarship. Interestingly enough, 60 years later the United States government used Lewis’s works as ideological backing for aggressive intervention in the Middle East. The U.S. government wanted to secure oil in the Middle East, but it needed a sort of “manifest destiny” in order to maintain the support of the U.S. people (and perhaps assuage their own guilt). While it is unlikely that Lewis knowingly wrote the article so that the United States government could justify its wars, there is a common theme of governments working in tandem with a scholar. It is evident that Lewis has delved deeply into his studies, learning four difficult languages and devoting his life to his scholarship. Yet, how does government patronage affect the scholar, consciously and unconsciously? In a world where facts can be spun in one camp’s advantage, can we completely trust his findings?

To learn more, watch the video: 

BY NORA ORTON

According to Arjun Appadurai, at the root of global conflict is “certain fundamental disjunctures between economy, culture and politics….” This opinion seems to mirror Bernard Lewis’ theory on international discord: Lewis describes the relationship between the west and Islam as “no less than a clash of civilizations.” Lewis and Appadurai also both call attention to the conflicting desire to accept novel ideas and to reject anything that threatens one’s cultural identity. As Appadurai says, “The central problem of today’s global interactions is the tension between cultural homogenization and cultural heterogenzation.” Lewis describes how this plays out in the conflict between the west in Islam: “At first the Muslim response to Western civilization was one of admiration and emulation…..In our own time this mood of admiration and emulation has, among many Muslims, given way to one of hostility and rejection” (Lewis 59).

While both scholars agree that cultural differences are the root of global strife and that individuals have the impulse to both embrace and reject novel ideas, their arguments deviate when it comes to identifying these cultural disjunctures and their ramifications. While Lewis paints the global players as “the West” and “Islam,” Appadurai discusses “different sorts of actors: nation-states, multinationals, diasporic communities, as well as sub-national growing and movements (whether religious, political or economic), and even intimate face-to-face groups such as villages, neighborhoods and families.” Whereas Lewis presents the west and Islam as two homogeneous, distinct and dissonant civilizations, Appardurai challenges the idea that cultures can be separate. Appadurai contests the concept of homogeneity, arguing that there are deep fissures even within nation-states. He explains that ideas and culture often escape the confines of what we define as a discrete civilization.

The premise of separate civilizations becomes even more strained given the ever-globalizing world. Appadurai writes, “People, machinery, money, images, and ideas now follow increasingly non-isomorphic paths….”

With the exchange of capital, media and cultural products, it because impossible to delineate where exactly one culture ends and another begins. Doing so is not only impossible, but also belittling: Said says, “Any attempt to made to separate [civilizations] into water tight compartments alleged by Huntington and his ilk does damage to their variety, their diversity, their sheer complex elements and their racial hybridity.”

A key example of the multifaceted nature of cultural identity is artist Haji Noor Deen Mi Guanjiang. Guanjiang, a Chinese Muslim, created a calligraphic representation of Ya rahim (‘O Merciful’) in Arabic script; yet, he used a Chinese calligraphy brush and employed the Chinese calligraphic technique of painting all in one stroke.

Artistic flows are not constricted to eastern nations. Siah Armajani, for instance, is an Armenian Iranian who constructs public art pieces in New York City. Armajani engraved words into the railings at the World Financial Center Plaza, combining the Islamic calligraphic tradition with western poetry by Walt Whitman.

These two artists are only a few of many who demonstrate not our differences but rather they ways in which cultures mix harmoniously. Unlike the imagery in my last post, artists that employ these cultural flows create images that foster peace, instead of strife. While art and image can be hijacked by the government in order to create an enemy, art can simultaneously be used for the opposite end: elegantly showing our sameness.

BY LAUREN SNYDER

The Without Boundary and Broken Letter exhibitions support the idea of cultural flows, both temporally and spatially, in contemporary Arab artwork and prove that neither origin nor aesthetics alone are a valid means of categorization.  While they point out what is not Islamic art, the search for what is Islamic art still continues.  One exhibition that offers an answer to this dilemma is The Mask and The Mirror, a 2011 show at the Leila Heller Gallery in New York.  Curator Shirin Neshat, who is herself a contemporary artist from Iran, has said, “As a Middle Eastern artist with a history of making self-portrait photographs, I have been interested in how the West has influenced non-Western cultures and our way of capturing identity and expression of self.”[1]  An artist’s identity and self-expression, which are greatly impacted by cultural flows, have a direct influence on the meaning and significance that he or she assigns to his or her artwork.  Therefore, it is through this identity that a piece is able to be accurately understood and properly classified, free of any preconceived notions or imposing prejudices and in such a way maintains the artist’s uniqueness.    

The Mask and The Mirror featured self-portraits, in the forms of photographs and paintings, by 17 artists from a diverse array of countries, including the United States, countries of the Middle East, Africa, and Pakistan.  The juxtaposition of this selection of artists only works to enhance their messages.  By showing that artists from various cultural backgrounds have similar messages about identity makes it impossible to draw conclusion about their work based of off the qualities that differ between them: origin or aesthetics.  Rather, the works in this exhibition highlight the similarities that can be seen across cultural and stylistic boundaries, proving that the one uniting factor is the artist’s individual take on identity.  

Some of the self-portraits in this exhibition work like a mask to the artist’s identity while still managing to serve as a form of self-examination by exploring their inner personal issues, whether that be emotional, sexual, or psychological.  Other self-portraits act as a mirror, reflecting the artist’s social commentary on cultural, political, and religious issues of their personal world.  Amongst all the self-portraits, parallels can be seen between the works of Eastern and Western cultures.  While they all may draw upon their origins and incorporate traditional aesthetics of many cultures, they do not allow these aspects to classify their works.  It is only through incorporating these cultural influences into their own unique image that the artists defy common perceptions and define their identity.

Similarities are seen in the self-portraits of Egyptian artist Youssef Nabil and Italian artist Paolo Cenevari.  Nabil’s Self Portrait with Pyramid, Cairo and Canevari’s Colosso both employ the use of culturally iconic architecture from their home countries to narrate the connections they have with their respective societies.  Nabil is seen reflecting upon an ancient pyramid in Cairo whereas Canevari is seen carrying the Coliseum.  As Nabil longingly gazes with a sense of nostalgia at the pyramid that was built by past civilizations, he implies that he hopes to find his own self-identity in the pyramid of a past society.  In a corresponding manner, Canevari, a European, also focuses on the influence that his Italian society has had on forming his own identity by showing himself bearing the burden of the Coliseum on his back, literally illustrating this cultural impact.  While they both acknowledge the conflict that they have to deal with of accepting that they are a product of their cultural past but currently living in modern times.  With globalization and influences of the Western world, it is important for them to always look back on their history, but not let either the past of the West define them, rather it is crucial to create their own identity. 

Youssef Nabil, Self Portrait with Pyramid.

Paolo Canevari, Colosso, 2002.  

[1] http://www.ltmhgallery.com/exhibitions/2011-11-03_the-mask-and-the-mirror/

BY LAURA CURLIN

In Spain, the Reconquista was not a straight-forward military campaign. Rather, it consisted of a gradual disintegration of Muslim hegemony, the increasing strength of neighboring Christian kingdoms, and the appropriation of Muslim cultural history. The battles that were fought were also not necessarily split neatly between Christians and Muslims. For much of the Middle Ages, Spain was a patchwork of kingdoms, both Christian and Muslim, and factions were often made up according to the rulers’ interests rather than along religious lines. Gradually, power shifted to favor the Christian kingdoms and growing anti-Muslim sentiment led to the expulsion of Muslims from their homes.

However, even when Muslims left regions in Spain, their artistic influence remained. The rising Christian rulers appreciated “the sophistication of Islamic art and surrounded themselves with Islamic styles and techniques in the architecture and furnishings of their homes” (Rosser-Owen 74). Individual objects were repurposed by their new owners, often for use in Christian settings. Other objects were made to imitate the Islamic aesthetic and act as trophies from the Reconquista, emphasizing the new power dynamic in Spain. Other objects were made without any attempt to fetishize Islamic art, but still made use of techniques developed under Muslim rule. The Reconquista is thus played out with more subtlety through the Christian appropriation of Islamic art and culture in Spain.

Plaque, by Abd al-Rahman ibn Zayyan, from Cuenca, made in mid 11th century and altered in 13th century, from Victoria and Albert Museum.

During the relatively unsettled time of the Taifa kings, Islamic Spain was divided into small Muslim kingdoms and many art objects were transferred to Christian hands. Many, like this casket panel, were repurposed. The small rectangle was probably originally left blank, and later carved for use in a new context. The plaque might have been used as a book cover by its Christian owners. Because of the political upheaval of the time, many pieces of Spanish Islamic art only survived in the treasuries of Christian monasteries and cathedrals.

“Eleanor” crystal vase, Sassanian crystal from 6th or 7th century, Saint-Denis mounting before 1147, from the Louvre

The “Eleanor” crystal vase was similarly changed as it passed between owners. The origin of the crystal is still mysterious, but it is possible it came to Spain from Fatimid Egypt, though it was not produced there. According to an inscription on the mounting, it was owned by “Mitadolus,” or Imad al-dawlaus, a Muslim king that fought alongside William IX, and presumably gave him the vase to curry favor. William IX was Eleanor of Aquitaine’s grandfather, and gave her the crystal. Eleanor then gave it to her husband Louis VII, who gave it to Sugar, abbot of Saint-Denis. The abbot had the crystal put into its current setting and recorded what we know of its ownership. This particular piece thus blends an exquisite Sassanian rock crystal, a French setting, and historical owners.

Locket, from Granada, 1492-1550, from Victoria and Albert Museum

This locket at first appears to be Islamic art, but closer inspection reveals that it is closer to a souvenir. This is a sword buckle; the left half would have been attached to the scabbard while the right half attached the sword to the owner’s belt. According to legend, the locket belonged to the last Nasrid sultan, Abu ‘Abdallah Muhammad XII, or Boabdil, and passed into the ownership of his captors at the Battle of Luecena in 1483. While this origin story is appealing, the decoration on swords it is associated with are made of fragile colored glass and would not have been appropriate for actual battle. Furthermore, the inscriptions on the sword buckle are not actual Arabic. Rather, they are likely a garbled reproduction of Arabic by an artist that did not speak the language. The sword buckle was made, not for battle, but as a trophy. Christian conquerors used such trophies to “show off to posterity the owners’ heroic involvement - or desired involvement - in the glorious battle” (Rosser-Owen 73). Art memorializing victory served as proof of triumph and reinforcement of the new power dynamic in Spain.

Dish, from Valencia, 1430-1470, from Victoria & Albert Museum.

Although Valencia had been part of Christian Aragon since 1238, this dish made for a member of the Buyl family exhibits tin-glaze and lustre techniques that are characteristic of Islamic art. Lustre painting was originally developed in Iraq and traveled to Spain through trade with earlier Muslim rulers of Spain. The abstract floral motif echoes Islamic art as well, though here it makes up the ‘Byrony flowers’ pattern which was a popular export to Italy. 

Beech, George T. “The Eleanor of Aquitaine Vase, William IX of Aquitaine, and Muslim Spain.” Gesta 32, no. 1 (1993): 3-10. Accessed April 6, 2012. http://www.jstor.org/stable/767013.

Muriel, Barbier. “‘Eleanor’ Crystal Vase.” Louvre. Accessed May 4, 2012. http://louvre.fr/en/oeuvre-notices/eleanor-crystal-vase.

Rosser-Owen, Mariam. Islamic Arts from Spain. London: V&A Publishing, 2010.

“Search the Collections.” Victoria and Albert Museum. Accessed May 5, 2012. http://collections.vam.ac.uk/.

BY NORA ORTON

“Kin-country syndrome,” according to Samuel Huntington, is the tendency for people from the same civilization to “naturally try to rally support from other members of their own civilization.” Huntington cites the example of the Gulf war, in which “one Arab state invaded another and then fought a coalition of Arab, Western and other states.” Saddam Hussein garnered support not only from the populace of Iraq, but also among other Arab states. Huntington writes, “Forswearing Arab nationalism, Saddam Hussein explicitly invoked an Islamic appeal.” 

This safety net of support provides smaller, less powerful states the ideological economic and military aid they need to stay afloat. In the case of the Gulf War, King Hussein of Jordan described the struggle as an affront to “all Arabs and all Muslims and not against Iraq alone.” While this support was quite helpful to Iraq, it polarized the world into two camps. Said Safar Al-Hawale, Dean of Islamic Studies at Umm Al-Qura Univeristy, “It is not the world against Iraq. It is the West against Islam.”

 According to Professor Emeritus at Stanford University Philip Zimbardo, this mentality is key to what he calls “the Lucifer Effect.” The Lucifer Effect describes “the point in time when an ordinary, normal person first crosses the boundary between good and evil to engage in an evil action.” In order for one human to actively hurt another, the first must see the victim as “other.” Perhaps the most powerful way to separate “us” and “them” is through imagery.   

Zimbardo splits up such imagery into a several categories.

The Enemy as Death

One category that certainly puts the other group into enemy camps is to portray the enemy as death itself. The image below is from Tehran, Iran. It depicts the statue of liberty, and on closer look, her face is a skeleton. This piece evidently is on city streets, and it is quite large, meaning there is a lot of viewership and the act of viewing is a powerful experience.

Here is a woman walking by, her burka a stark contrast with the red and white stripes:

All of these propaganda techniques are used to polarize and antagonize. When art and image highlight human differences, they are powerful tools in assembling the idea of “the enemy.” This dehumanization leads to “the Lucifer Effect,” whereby one human can find it within himself to commit atrocities against another. 

Evidently, imagery inculcates hatred. But does it have to be that way?

(see next post to find out!)

Sources:

Samuel Huntington, “Clash of Civilizations.”

Philip Zimbardo, “The Lucifer Effect.” http://www.lucifereffect.com/lucifer.htm

BY LAUREN SNYDER

The 2003 Broken Letter: Contemporary Art from Arab Countries exhibition at the Kunsthalle Darmstadt art facility in Germany included contemporary paintings and sculptures from artists of Arab countries, with most of the work coming from private collections and foundations of Saudi Arabia.  The central focus of the exhibition was to fight the Western world’s prejudice that contemporary Arab art is nothing more than a “hoard of calligraphically inspired pattern,” or simply a “cosmos of ornaments in which figurative scenes largely remain left out.”  Aiming to “break” the West’s prejudiced association of Arab art with calligraphy letters of its traditional past, the exhibition features works of art that transpose this and other fundamental elements of Arab countries’ cultural history.  Most of the works in Broken Letter disregard the concrete world with their various levels of abstraction and show a compromise between traditionalist and modernist styles.  Much emphasis is placed on how the Western world interprets the Arab artists’ treatment of Arab content, such as ornament and calligraphy.  The “visual ideas” shown in Broken Letter “go beyond boundaries of individual cultural groups and show where the Arab artists belong: to International Art.” 

Mohammed Omar Khalil’s Under the Sun is a great visual illustration of the interplay of Eastern and Western cultures that can be found in contemporary Arab art.  Born in Sudan and educated in the arts in Italy, Khalil now lives in the United States.  His experiences in Italy had a great impact on Khalil, as he frequently refers to the works of Italian late Gothic artist Paolo Uccello, calling upon not only European styles, but also those of the past in his modern works of art. 

Mohammed Omar Khalil, Under the Sun, 2000. 

Under the Sun is a type of patchwork collage that is constructed of individual images and pictures whose content refers to the West.  Taking inspiration from both the streets around him and the past that he had studied, he takes bits and pieces from various cultures and deliberately places them within his picture to contribute to the larger context of the work’s overall effect of eluding stereotypical compartmentalization.  His pieces include various patterns and images and at times, reproductions can be found.  Under the Sun features certain elements that are distinctly Western.  The first thing one might notice is the striking similarity that a portion of the composition has to the American flag.  Its choice of red, white, and blue colors throughout and the striped pattern formed with the materials transforms the piece into a parody of a flag.  Further allusions to the West are found in the bottom right corner where a TV Guide magazine is found.  The cover features Holbein the Younger’s famous portrait of Henry VIII, making a significant statement about not only the power of media in modern day life, but also equating this powerful media to that of a European monarchical ruler, incorporating elements of old tradition.  Fragments of a woven product, perhaps referencing an ornamental carpet of an Arab country, are found on the left side of the painting, calling upon Arab art’s traditional reputation in the West.  However, these cliché characteristics cease at the left side of the painting, which in the Arabic direction of reading would be the end.  This final portion of the composition is nothing but an impenetrable blackness, perhaps referring to the failed attempts of the West to classify this and other indecipherable Arab works of art.  The visual ideas in Under the Sun go beyond the boundaries of individual cultural groups and show that the Arab artists belong to the greater international art movement at large. 

Joch, Peter. “Broken Letter: Contemporary Art from Arab Countries” In Broken Letter: Contemporary Art from Arab Countries exh. cat., Germany: Kunsthalle Darmstadt, 2003, 5.

Joch, Broken Letter, 18

BY LAURA CURLIN

Location is key to our understanding, however problematic, of Islamic art. While definitions vary, Islamic art is often defined as art produced under an Islamic empire before the nineteenth or twentieth century. Other definitions include any art produced by Muslims, even if not under Islamic rule. The map below shows the extent of Islam as a political force. While the Middle East is certainly included, the spread of Islam goes far further, into Europe and Sub-Saharan Africa. 

Unfortunately, the study of Islamic art does not generally take this geographic diversity into account. Collections often focus on the Levant, Turkey, Egypt, and Iran, to the exclusion of other regions. The Los Angeles County Museum of Art, for instance, includes the map below on its website. Notable sites of Islamic art production are shown, but they are nearly all in Iran and Iraq. 

Even more limited is the scope of the Leighton House Museum’s collection. Its modest holdings are mostly from Syria. 

Although Islam has had a major impact on a wide variety of geographic locations, the study of Islamic art is often limited. Presenting a non-representative sample of artwork as Islamic only serves to further the misconceptions of Islam as a monolithic religion. Museums should rather seek to introduce the public to the wealth of variety within Islam as a means of educating them.

BY LAURA CURLIN

Although there is a general perception that Islamic art is not figural, particularly within mosques, because of traditions from  the Hadith. However, the growth of portraiture in Iran and Mughal India out of the miniature tradition can be clearly seen in the wealth of images discussed below. Portraits in the eastern part of the Islamic world blended the local miniature tradition with contemporary Western styles and influences from East Asia.

This leaf from Brown’s Minassian Collection, was likely once part of a manuscript and includes a floral border, similar to the decorated borders that make up an integral feature of the art of the book. Although little is known about this particular piece, it seems to be highly influenced by Western culture. The dress of the picture’s subject could be from Europe, though I am not qualified to identify its origins. The broad range of dates provided by the Collection complicates the matter, as styles of painting varied greatly within the Islamic world as well as in Europe during that time period. However, this leaf is still a fascinating piece, as it does not fit neatly into the descriptors used for Islamic art.

from Brown’s Minassian Collection of Persian, Mughal, and Indian Miniature Paintings, 1450-1600

This portrait represents another form of figural representation from approximately the same period as the Minassian leaf. The dress portrayed is less unusual, and substantial influence from East Asia can be seen in the posture and form of the lady. However, this painting also stands out from most portraits from the period in that it is a single work, and does not appear to have been part of a manuscript. The seal above the figure belongs to Shah Abbas, of the Safavid dynasty. Although this painting was made just before Abbas’s rule, Shah Abbas is known for cultivating the arts and relationships with Europe and China. The painter, Muhammadi of Herat, was well known, although not a member of a kitab-khana, and his simple style was highly influential in the development of the style of Khurasan manuscripts produced   commercially.

Portrait of a Lady Holding a Flower, Muhammadi of Herat, 1565-75 from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

This portrait of Fath Ali Shah blends several artistic styles. While the basic composition of the painting, a ruler sitting on a carpet with a pillow behind him, is common in Islamic art portraying leaders, the State Hermitage Museum’s website calls this the “Turkish manner”  of seating. Other paintings with similar compositions, however, generally have simpler backgrounds. The scene shown through a window may have been copied from a Western painting, or was at least heavily influenced by Western styles. This portrait also demonstrates the use of symbolism in depictions of Qajar royalty. Fath Ali Shah sent his portraits to Napoleon, the tsar of Russia, and the English East India Company as diplomatic gifts. Royal portraits were meant to foster diplomatic relations with Europe while conveying the strength of Qajar Iran. 

Portrait of Fath Ali Shah Seated, Mihr Ali, 1813-1814 from the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia

Although this work is dated only approximately twenty years after the portrait of Fath Ali Shah, the style is very different. The portrait of Abbas Mirza is signed, but I could not find any other references to the artist. Abbas Mirza was the son of Fath Ali Shah and reigned from 1797 to 1833. This painting could have been made in his memory. Qajar Iran’s international standing suffered as Iran had to cede large swaths of territory to Russia following a war 1826-1828. This portrait, in less vibrant hues and without a symbolic saber, shows a far more subdued Iran than Fath Ali Shah’s portrait. 

A Portrait of the Crown Prince ‘Abbas Mirza, signed L. Herr, 1833, from Qajar Iran

Image from the portraits auction by Christie’s

Portraiture in the Islamic world has continued to grow, including self-portraits. The picture to the left by Y.Z. Kami does not have any stylistic features that would unmistakably identify it as Islamic art or Middle Eastern Art. However, some critics believe Kami’s work illustrates a Sufi contemplativeness. Kami’s portraits are not easily categorized. Are they influenced by Islamic miniatures and Qajar depictions of royalty? More likely, Kami’s work belongs to its own time and place, just like the other portraits shown here, while simultaneously problematizing the definition of Islamic art. 

Untitled, Y.Z. Kami, 2010 from the Gagosian Gallery

Y. Z. Kami was born in Tehran, Iran, and works in New York.

Robinson, B. W. “Muhammadi and the Khurasan Style.” Iran 30 (1992): 17-29. JSTOR.

Sardar, Marika. “Shah Abbas and the Arts of Isfahan”. In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000-. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/shah/hd_shah.htm (October 2003)

BY LAUREN SNYDER

The ideas of cultural flow can be illustrated in the works of contemporary Islamic art.  The fusion of Islamic cultures temporally, meaning combining traditional old Islamic culture with that of the contemporary present-day times, is seen throughout the artwork of various Islamic artists.  Whether that be through comparison of the “old world” with the “new world” or through incorporation of “old world” artistic techniques and motifs into the “new” art, contemporary Islamic art illustrates the ideas of cultural flow.  The works of Middle Eastern artist Shirin Aliabadi is a great example of the demonstration of “cultural flow” between past and present Islamic cultures. 

Shirin Aliabadi, Miss Hybrid I, 2006.  

The photography of Tehran-based artist Shirin Aliabadi poses questions of identity, bringing to light the cultural, sexual, and social differences that contemporary art commonly considers.  Aliabad’s Miss Hybrid series portrays young Iranian women living in today’s world.   The figures represent the hybridization of “old” Islamic culture with “new” Islamic culture that has occurred within contemporary Iranian woman.  Common features of the figures in the Miss Hybrid photographs include bleached blonde hair, bright blue contact lenses on the eyes, flawless makeup, and brightly colored scarves and clothing.  Another important element common throughout the series is the appearance of a piece of surgical tape placed on the nose.

All of these features are references to the contemporary Iranian customs that aim to adapt the “old” ways of the culture to contemporary times.  While the clothing and scarves may be brightly colored, they still serve the functional purpose that more traditional clothing was meant to serve- modestly cover the woman’s body.  The surgical tape on the nose refers to the trend of Iranian youth to alter their physical appearance by means of plastic surgery.  It implies that the woman has had a nose job to change her natural features to a more slender, even “Westernized,” shape.  The combination of traditional attire and appearance with the “new” Iranian woman are made obvious in the Miss Hybrid series and help to support the notion that contemporary Islamic art is indeed influenced by the idea of cultural flow and that cultures that differ temporally can in fact fuse together. 

BY LAUREN SNYDER

Without Boundary: Seventeen Ways of Looking was a 2006 exhibition at the Museum of Modern art in New York that featured the work of contemporary artists from the Islamic world that lived in different cities such as London, Paris, Zurich, Buenos Aires, and New York.  It also included the work of two American artists.  The exhibition was organized by Fereshteh Daftari, Assistant Curator in the Museum’s Department of Painting and Sculpture.  

The exhibition seeks to emphasize diversity by questioning the use of artists’ origins as the sole determining factor in the consideration of their art. […] The intention is not to imply uniformity based on a collective identity but rather to highlight complex, idiosyncratic approaches. [1]

To explore how the works of the artists go against what is expected of them, the exhibition features certain themes.  The first is how traditional Islamic forms, such as texts, miniature painting, and carpets, are treated in the artwork.  Second, the exhibition also examines how the artists address the issues of identity and faith. 

Though the exhibition has received criticism for failing to provide any contextual information, such as background of the history or artist of a particular piece, the artwork on their own are able to support the idea of cultural flow.  Rather than implying uniformity of a culture based on a collective identity, the exhibition highlights the complex approaches that the artists take to expressing their message, often times one of their identity, in their art.  The fact that two American artists are included in the exhibition further emphasizes the point that simplistic conclusions about classifying the work should not be based purely on the artists’ Islamic origins. 

From Without Boundary we can see a trend of exhibiting contemporary Arab art in such a way that does not require compartmentalization of an artist to a specific culture, but rather, emphasizes that the works in this show are connected not by ethnicity or religion, but rather “a tie […] in their way of revising, subverting, and challenging the aesthetic traditions they deal with, and of bringing preconceived notions of cultural homogeneity to ruin.”[2]  The pieces are not merely “Islamic.”  Each one is different, and though they are united in their use of traditional Islamic aspects, they transform these aesthetics in such a way that makes them unique to their own identity and speaks to their own purpose. 

One piece from the exhibition that particularly defeats the notion of categorization based on religion is Mona Hatoum’s Prayer Mat.  The strongest claim against this argument is that Hatoum is Christain, not Muslim.  This negates any connection that might possible be made between her faith and choice of subject matter. Therefore, while her piece may make use of the traditional Islamic form of a carpet, her art cannot be fairly labeled as “Islamic.”  

In Hatoum’s piece, the Muslim prayer mat, which conventionally serves as the gate to heavenly paradise, refers to an entirely different subject that is unique to Hatoum’s personal experiences.  From a distance, Prayer Mat appears to be soft and plush.  However upon closer examination, one sees that it is actually made of upwardly pointed brass pins, which one could only imagine would be rather uncomfortable to walk on, much less kneel on in an act of prayer.  Hatoum is making a statement about the painful experience of Islamic martyrdom that some experience in their pursuit of heaven.  The pain of suicide acts cannot be comprehended beforehand, similar to how Prayer Mat’s painful texture is not noticed upon first glance.  The terrorism that consumed Hatoum’s native home forced her to escape to other countries which thereby directly impacted Hatoum’s personal identity.  Therefore Hatoum’s commentary of the acts of martyrdom through this piece make it more personal than Islamic per se.  Though the prayer mat imagery is Islamic, the content is both unique to Hatoum and has universal application.  

To further emphasize the point that Hatoum should not be categorized as strictly an “Islamic” artist, it is important to note that she was greatly influenced by Western artists.  Two of whom are Marcel Duchamp, a French artist known for his use of ready-made objects, and Carl Andre, an American artist of the Minimalist movement.  Similar to these artists, Hatoum uses found objects (like Duchamp) of brass pins and a brass compass arranged in a geometric floor piece in low relief (like Andre).  

Carl Andre, Equivalent VIII, white sand-lime bricks, 1966. 

Similarities can be seen between Prayer Mat and Andre’s Equivalent VIII, however it should be carefully noted that these similarities do not imply mimicry.  Rather, it implies cultural flow and exchange of ideas between Eastern and Western cultures, for although Hatoum’s work may share some aspects of the work of Duchamp and Andre, it also consists of aspects that directly go against what Duchamp and Andre valued.  Therefore Hatoum should not  be categorized as an Islamic artist, for although she may adapt some Islamic forms, neither she nor her work are truely Islamic.  Nor should she be categorized as a Minimalist, for she merely incorporates some of their principles into her work and makes it her own.  Due to this interplay of cultures and hybrid nature of her work, Hatoum should be appropriately termed a contemporary Arab artist.    

[1] http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/83

[2] Daftari, Fereshteh.  “Islamic or Not.”  In Without Boundary: Seventeen Ways of Looking. exh. cat., New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 2006, 25.