29 November 2009

History Carnivalesque

Blogging About History

The next ancient/medieval edition of Carnivalesque -- the monthly showcase for top history blogging -- will appear right here at Zenobia: Empress of the East on 19th December.

So start sending me notices of the best early-history blogging that you've read in November. And keep up the good work as you come across particularly fine, insightful -- or just plain provoking posts as they appear during December.

Feel free to nominate even [or especially!] your own writings as well.

You can email me directly at judith@judithweingarten.com or use the ancient/medieval nomination form.

If you're not familiar with history carnivals, pop over to the History Carnivals Aggregator where you'll find up-to-the-minute news on history-related carnivals. Did you know, for example, that the early modern Carnivalesque now up at Investigations of a Dog has everything from radical politics to sex and violence?

Undoubtedly we, too, shall cover the gamut of groovy activities -- plus whatever else takes Zenobia's fancy -- for the ancient and medieval worlds on 19th December. Hold this date!

Illustration: Cross-gendered maracatu cearense blackface queen at this year's pre-Carnival show in Caucaia, Ceará, Brazil . Credit: Ronald Conner (via Wikipedia.org).

22 November 2009

Two-Timing Nefertiti? (Part II)

"Suddenly we had the most alive Egyptian artwork in our hands," the German Egyptologist Ludwig Borchardt wrote in his diary for 1912, "You cannot describe it with words. You can only see it."

That most alive artwork is the world-famous painted plaster bust of Queen Nefertiti, wife of Pharaoh Akhenaten, who now reigns over the Neues Museum in Berlin, enthroned alone in a domed room that overlooks the length of the Museum (below centre).

But here is what she looked like (left) when Ludwig Borchardt saw her for the first time. The photograph is entitled: "The first presentation of the bust of Nefertiti following its discovery on December 6, 1912."

And today, this most beautiful woman in the world has become the centre of a political storm.

The Story So Far

At the triumphant reopening of the Neues Museum last month (after decades spent renovating the site, destroyed during World War II), the celebrations were somewhat marred by an increasingly bitter dispute between the German and Egyptian governments over who rightfully owns the 3,500-year-old Nefertiti bust.

Nefertiti has been in Germany since 1913 -- but, almost a century later, Egypt is demanding that the object be returned home. Zahi Hawass, general secretary of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, claims that Nefertiti belongs to Egypt. "If she left Egypt illegally," he says, "which I am convinced she did, then I will officially demand it back from Germany.” Strong words, and he added for good measure, "If it can be shown clearly that the work was not stolen, then there is no problem. But I am pretty sure that it was."

The German museum curators deny that Nefertiti was taken out of Egypt illegally.

As with all disputes over artefact repatriation, it is chiefly an ethical argument. The question is whether or not the German archaeologists tricked the bust of Nefertiti out of Egypt between 1911 and 1913, playing a underhand game that violated both the laws of the period and the ethics of the present.

Who's Who

The two principal actors of this story are Ludwig Borchardt (the bearded gent in the foreground of the photo above left), the founding director of the Imperial German Institute of Egyptology in Cairo, who supervised the Amarna expedition between 1911 and 1914, and Gustave Lefébvre, then an inspector of the Antiquities Inspectorate in Asyut, Middle Egypt, where Amarna is located.

At the time, excavated antiquities were subject to a "division of finds" policy, by which a representative of the Egyptian antiquities organization would select those artefacts to be kept in Egypt and the rest would be awarded to the foreign institution that sponsored the dig. The Nefertiti bust was removed from Egypt in the context of this division of finds.

The Case for the Prosecution

Chief archaeologist Ludwig Borchardt was so awed by Nefertiti's stunning beauty that he devised a scheme to smuggle the piece out of Egypt.

Every archaeological discovery had to be brought before the Egyptian Antiquities Authority for inventory and distribution between Egypt and the archaeological expedition. Inspector Gustave Lefébvre (in 1913, the Department of Antiquities was still under French control) was responsible for the divisions of the finds and, not trained as an Egyptologist, settled for a simple 50/50 division where objects made of plaster would go to the Germans.

It seems that Borchardt, already aware of the value of the limestone (sic) bust of Queen Nefertiti, rushed the negotiation, listed the figure as “bust of painted plaster of a princess of the royal family” and presented severely cropped photographs of the object to Lefébvre, who let the precious artifact go.

According to Al-Ahram Weekly, Hawass says that Borchardt did not declare the bust, or hid it under less important objects. Either that or the authorities failed to recognise its beauty and importance. Borchardt himself admitted he did not clean the bust but left it covered in mud when he took it to the Egyptian Museum for the usual division of spoils. Whatever happened, the committee decided to take limestone statues of Akhenaten and Nefertiti and, according to Hawass, the antiquities authorities did not know about the bust until it was put on show in the Egyptian Museum in Berlin in 1923.

The one certainty, he says, is that Egypt never expressly agreed that the bust be included in the German share of the Amarna finds.

The Case for the Defense

Needless to say, the Germans put another slant on events.

Since Amarna was under the authority of the Antiquities Inspectorate in Asyut, it was by chance (and not design) that the inspector there was Gustave Lefébvre. It thus fell to Lefébvre to divide the finds, even though he was not an Egyptologist but a classical philologist and archaeologist.

There had just been a change in rules about how to divide the finds -- much to the disadvantage of the German team and not at all what had been first agreed when the dig started. A letter survives that Bruno Gueterbock (secretary of the German Oriental Society [DOG]) wrote to Guenther Roeder, (Director of the Roemer-Pelizaeus Museum) in 1924 which recalls the meeting in Amarna on 30 January 1913. It recounts how Lefébvre took a telegram out of his briefcase from Gaston Maspero, head of the Egyptian Antiquities Service and the first Director of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. This telegram ordered him to execute the division a moitié exacte (in two exactly equal halves). "We shall be the first victims of the new decree of the ministry of finances", moaned Gueterbock.

"You can imagine," he went on, "that we all had very little hope that this wonderful piece would not go to Cairo, so little, that on the evening before Lefébvre's arrival, all the inhabitants of the excavation house walked in solemn procession, candle in hand, to the storeroom to bid our farewell to the colourful Queen."

"Everybody sat down at the large table in the excavation house and photos of all finds were passed from hand to hand." According to the official diary, Lefébvre was not shown only photographs, but the originals were also presented to him.

After the division, the excavator had the right to pack the material not claimed by Egypt into crates and send them closed to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. There the crates would be stamped without any further examination of the contents. That's why, according to Hawass, the Egyptian authorities did not know about the bust until it appeared in the Egyptian Museum in Berlin in 1923.*

But Borchardt, for his part, published a photograph of the bust in October 1913 -- within ten months of its discovery -- in an academic journal that would have been widely read by Egyptologists.** Although the image is only partial (perhaps the origin of the 'cropped photographs' accusation), it fully demonstrates the quality and significance of the bust.

Zenobia has two soothing thoughts and a modest proposal

The photograph (above left) of the finding of the bust shows an Egyptian workman holding the statue in its early, uncleaned state. While it is fair to say that it does not radiate all the beauty that lay beneath the dirt, it would take a particular kind of idiot not to recognize the importance of the find. Unsurprisingly, Lefébvre later denied having seen it or, if having seen it, did not remember:
A decade later, when questioned by Pierre Lacau [this was about the time when the bust was first exhibited in Berlin*], Lefébvre said he could not remember whether he had seen the bust or not. But Lacau's questions confronted Lefébvre with a dilemma. If he told Lacau that he had not been interested in seeing the original finds, then he had neglected his duties. If he told Lacau that he had examined the bust, how could he have justified that he did not claim the object for Cairo?"
What kind of idiot could have missed its potential splendour? An idiot savant, I'm afraid, whose mind is concentrated on texts and couldn't care less about mucky objects. The breed still exists and you will find them visiting the most exciting digs with inner eye fixed firmly on inscriptions or scraps of papyrus, all but yawning at the impedimenta of archaeologists.

Second, plaster isn't precious. Stone is considered much more valuable. Until last March, when she underwent a CT scan (we wrote about it at Vanity, Thy Name is Uppity Woman), it was universally assumed that this was a plaster bust built up around an inner stone support. Thanks to the scan, we can now see inside -- and have just discovered, to everyone's surprise, that the limestone core is a finely-carved sculpture of the queen (left) in its own right.

This 2009 discovery makes it rather an upside-down accusation to imply that Borchardt disguised the plaster statue as ... a plaster statue.

That's what it was. And not at all "a painted limestone bust" ... as much of the press is now parroting.

So it needn't be due to any 'sleight of hand' that Lefébvre chose to take limestone statues of Akhenaten and Nefertiti instead of the most beautiful woman in the world.

The whole affair will be hashed and rehashed in Germany in early December (almost the centennial anniversary of her discovery). As we write, Friederike Seyfried, head of the Egyptian and Papyrus Collection at the Neues Museum, is travelling to Egypt to meet with Dr Hawass in an attempt to end the increasingly acrimonious arguments.

Little Warsaw is Burning

The inaptly named Hungarian art duo, Little Warsaw (András Gálik and Bálint Havas) have thrown more fuel on the fire. They specialize in cultural displacement projects -- and you might say that, this time, they have displaced more than the Museum bargained for.

The two artists created an imaginary body for Queen Nefertiti with its dimensions based on the proportions of the bust. Travelling with it from Budapest to Berlin, they had the original bust briefly set upon it (below, right). Essentially, they took the ancient work of art out of its context and plopped it down in a different place -- about as conceptually modern as you can get. Naturally, the commentary that results and people's unexpected reactions become an integral part of the art project.

Perhaps, though, the commentary got a bit out of hand when they created The Body of Nefertiti.

"Queen Nefertiti Naked in the Berlin Museum!"

The body was deliberately cast in another medium than the bust, to avoid any pretension to stylistic unity. It was clad only in a close-fitting transparent dress, depicting the queen as essentially a nude. Then in Berlin, the pair of artists, under museum supervision, had the ancient Nefertiti head placed on it. The event was taped, and the video and the headless bronze (left) were put on view in the Hungarian Pavilion at the 2003 Venice Biennale, the world's most important showcase for contemporary visual arts.

Nefertiti's short journey from its isolation in a glass case into the world of contemporary art created a dramatic set of visual images. For a short moment, Little Warsaw had effected an installation piece with the bust as an active participant in a 21st century work of art.

Art? What art?

'We don't accept that such an important statue of Queen Nefertiti has been put in jeopardy for this silly project,'' sputtered Mohamed al-Orabi, the Egyptian ambassador to Berlin. "It is not even silly: it is nothing. I mean the project is nothing."

The ambassador further declared (incorrectly, as it happens): ''It contradicts Egyptian manners and traditions. The body is almost naked, and Egyptian civilization never displays a woman naked.'' And he warned, ''The moral and scientific responsibility of the [Berlin] Museum is at stake here,''

Zahi Hawass was even blunter, calling the piece a "degradation of the bust", created in "wanton disrespect".

The Egyptian culture minister was as harsh, calling the installation "mad and ill considered", and adding darkly that the Museum's acquiescence in the project indicated that the famous Nefertiti sculpture was ''no longer safe in German hands.''

Here's what the artists had to say:

The success of the project Body of Nefertiti is in unlocking a sealed artifact. It disturbed the established and conventional identity of the object, freeing the bust for contemporary rereadings. Nefertiti has regained her own personal history, escaped from her sacred shrine, with the unexpected emergence of a new event in her existence.

Of course, they were probably cock-a-hoop at the Egyptian response. The input of viewers to the issues raised by the idea of Nefertiti’s body is all part of the project.

And that is what they got. Among the issues raised was an apparently unutterable offence to modern Egyptian sensibilities ... and possibly, too, an affront to the bust itself.

So, what is it to be?

Does pure beauty mean that you must demand an equally pure line and aloofness in exhibition, use, and display?

Or was the Museum right to allow in -- as the artists think -- a 'breath of fresh air'?

By the simple act of releasing the bust from a glass cage and joining it to an elegant body, Nefertiti was no longer an isolated icon, but, for a fleeting moment, an integral part of a new artwork. Surely, then, the project gave added meaning and renewed vitality to the bust 3,500 years after another artist had created it.

Thutmose, The King's Favourite and Master of Works, who made the statue would have been proud. After all, he had sculpted it to be an artist's model, a piece meant for study ... and undoubtedly for continual contemplation.

* The excavation was paid for by James Simon, founder of the German Oriental Society, (DOG) with his own money. Simon was also the permit holder at Amarna and thus legally owned the German share of what was found there. Neftertiti was first kept in his private collection which is why the bust was not put on show immediately. He first loaned and then donated his share of the Amarna objects to the Berlin Egyptian Museum in 1920.

Mitt.der DOG zu Berlin 43; illus. 19

My thanks to Jan Bailey, who reported on 'Why Nefertiti went to Berlin' to the EEF-list on November 11, 2009, with extracts from KMT Magazine (and who kindly supplied the excavation photograph at the top of this post).

The discussion of the Little Warsaw project and the Egyptian reaction to it owes much to S.K. Urice, "The Beautiful One Has Come -- to Stay", in J.H.Merryman, A.E.Elsen,S. K. Urice, Law, Ethics and the Visual Arts (2006) 415-16.


Upper left: KMT Magazine 19.3 (Fall 2008), 'Why Nefertiti went to Berlin' (Rolf Krauss)

Centre: The Bust of Nefertiti on display at the Neues Museum in Berlin. Image Credit - Jon Himoff.

Middle left: Photo Victor Koen,
Copyright 2009 The New York Times Company

Lower left: Little Warsaw 2002-2004: 'Displaced Monuments and Deconstructive Strategie'. Credit: Umelec Int'l

Lower right: 'A problematic juxtaposition'. Credit UWM.edu

Lowest left: The Body of Nefertiti (2003). Credit Acax.hu

13 November 2009

Two-Timing Nefertiti?

There are two Nefertiti stories making the rounds -- one important and one maybe not so much.

We'll start with the lesser news of the day, yet another attempt to tell us what the real Nefertiti really really looked like.

Two Italian scholars -- Franco Crevatin , an ethnologist at Trieste University, and Stefano Anselmo, an expert in the history of cosmetics -- have created a computer-generated image (left) which they believe is closer to Queen Nefertiti's actual face than the one shown in the famous painted bust (below left) displayed in Berlin's newly-opened Neues Museum.*

You may remember the hot news last March when the statue of the most beautiful woman in the world, Nefertiti, went through a CT scan [if you don't remember, have a look now at Vanity, Thy Name is Uppity Woman, which tells you all you need to know]. Briefly, the scan revealed a hidden face under the painted plaster: inside the bust was a limestone core that was, in fact, a highly detailed inner sculpture of the queen. And this limestone face differed in small but significant ways from the external plaster face:

The inner face had less prominent cheekbones, a slight bump on the ridge of the nose, marked wrinkles around the corner of the mouth and cheeks, and less depth at the corners of the eyelids.

Starting from the entirely reasonable assumption that the outer image had been idealized (for portrait painters have always smoothed away their client's blemishes, bumps, and wrinkles), the Italians took the inner core as the 'true' picture of the queen.

"To reconstruct the face," Stefano Anselmo says, "I studied the art of the 18th Dynasty, the epoch of Akhenaten: masterpieces which depict persons possibly physically related to the queen. The artists preferred curved lines for the faces. Taking account of the imperfections revealed by the CAT scan I created slight hints of sagging around the lips, similar to lines, and the first signs of circles under the eyes."

And, as cosmetician, he added, "I worked mainly on the complexion, replacing the greys of the CT scan with a biscuit-amber tone, which was presumably the skin colour of Nefertiti."


I can buy the subtle differences -- shallower eye sockets, less pronounced cheekbones, lines around the mouth and a tiny bump on the bridge of the nose. I'm less convinced by the thickening of her lips or rounding of the chin. (I see no justification for these changes: check back to scrutinize her scanned images on the earlier post).

But the skin colour truly shocks.

Compare the colour painted on the plaster bust as she now appears (left). The artist certainly didn't idealistically lighten her skin (or she would have been chalk-white, as women often are on wall paintings). Rather, her skin has very much the tone you see on Egyptian women today.

You don't believe me?

Have a good look at the luscious Khadiga el-Gamal (right), wife of the heir to the Egyptian throne; oops, sorry, I mean wife of President Hosni Mubarak's son.

''Reproducing the face of a queen who is surrounded by such mystery required months of painstaking, detailed work,'' Franco Crevatin said.

Yes, indeed. Perhaps they should have spent more of this time travelling in Egypt. And less time contemplating Black Athena.

Lovely earrings, though.

Who Two-Timed Whom?

The new reconstruction will add just one more controversy to the many Nefertiti disputes that continue more than 3,500 years after her death.

Hot right now is the issue of repatriation: does she stay in Berlin or hotfoot it back to Egypt? This tug-of-war plagued her triumphant exhibition as the über Meisterwerk in Berlin's Museum Island's Neues Museum. The Egyptian Antiquities Department allege that she was exported illegally by the German excavation team in 1912. "Entirely legal!" huff and puff the Germans.

More on "Two-Timing Nefertiti?" in the next post.

Meanwhile, here she is in all her outer glory:

* Their findings were published this month in Focus Storia, an online history journal.


Upper left: Reconstruction of the 'true face' of Nefertiti, © Stefano Anselmo, Casa della Vita
Centre left: Image of the bust of Nefertiti courtesy the Neues Museum

Lower right: Photograph of Khadiga el-Gamal from ArabianBusiness.com

Video of the bust in the Neues Museum: Eine Kurzfilm von Kathrin Rosi Würtz (via YouTube.com)

05 November 2009

The Persian No Spin Zone

Early in 244 CE, the hapless Emperor Gordian III led the Roman army into Mesopotamia to wage war against the second Sassanian-Persian King of Kings, Shapur. Their armies met in battle near the city of Misikhe (modern Fallujah in Iraq).

In the ensuing battle, the Roman army was obliterated -- or was it?

Gordian died in the battle -- or did he?

It depends whose propaganda you believe.

The Case for the Persians

The Persian version of events, carved in stone with a trilingual inscription (at Naqsh-e Rustam near Persepolis in Iran) , claims that Gordian III was killed in the battle:
When at first we [Shapur] had become established in the Empire, Gordian Caesar raised in all of the Roman Empire a force from the Goth and German realms and marched on Babylonia against the Empire of [Persia] and against us. On the border of Babylonia at Misikhe, a great frontal battle occurred. Gordian Caesar was killed and the Roman force was destroyed.
An elaborate rock carving of Shapur's triumph at Bishapur in the Shiraz region of Iran, pictured left, makes the same point: it shows Gordian III trampled under the hooves of Shapur's horse (that's his head you see beneath its forelegs).
Then Philip Caesar came to us for terms, and to ransom their lives, gave us 500,000 denarii, and became tributary to us.
Whether or not Shapur is truthful in reporting that Philip acknowledged his suzerainty (he's the one kneeling before the Persian king's horse), a peace of sorts was concluded. What is certain at least is that the Romans built a cenotaph for Gordian at a place on the Persian side of the Euphrates river, some 50 miles (70 km) north of Dura Europos, and then Philip departed for Rome (see our report on his 'Short, Sad Dynasty').

The Roman Spin on Events

Roman sources do not mention the battle of Misikhe at all. Instead, Philip, while still Praetorian Prefect, is universally blamed for causing Gordian III's death, either having him murdered or stirring up mutiny by deliberately cutting off the troops' food supplies. In these truncated editions, it was only after the Roman army withdrew to the Euphrates that Gordian was assassinated and Philip took his place.

To make matters murkier, some late sources actually add the claim that Gordian was victorious in the Mesopotamian campaign:
While returning in triumph, [Gordian] was killed by the treachery of Philip ... when he was not far from Roman territory (Jordanes, Hist. Rom. 282)

[Gordian] engaged the barbarians and through conducting the war in a most brilliant manner, he defeated the [Persians] in a series of fierce battles. Then ... as he was returning to the frontiers of his own empire, he was murdered by Philip.... (John of Antioch, frag. 147)

Gordian ... routed Shapur, the king of the Persians in battle. But as he was approaching Ctesiphon [the Persian capital], he was murdered by his own troops at the instigation of the Prefect Philip.... (Syncellus 443).
Were the Romans defeated, or not? Historians ever since have been divided on the issue.

No more. A lucky find in Fars settles the matter.

If it is possible for me, then I shall establish a fire here.

So begins the inscription of a man called Abnun, who was master of ceremonies of Shapur's harem.* It is written on a stone fire altar (left), found near Barm-e Dilak in Fars province, a short distance south of Old Shiraz. The stone has a round depression on the top to hold the sacred fire. Human busts in niches and texts are carved on all four sides. Winged 'angels' flutter between the four human figures. The faces of the figures and 'angels' have been erased, presumably at the hands of iconoclastic Muslims, and its lower part broken off and lost.

This type of fire altar is unique but it is, in fact, the very earliest altar known from the Sassanian Empire so, perhaps, we just didn't know what they looked like at this date.

Happily, we do know for certain its date. The year was 244 CE:

When in the year 3 of Shapur, King of kings―when the Romans were coming against Persia and Parthia, then I [Abnun] was here in all-happy Frayosh.

The place name 'Frayosh' is a bit of a guess as some of the letters are missing. But what follows is entirely clear:

When it was heard that the Romans were coming, then I entreated the gods, saying, ‘If Shapur the King of kings [is victorious, and] the Romans are smitten and worsted, so that they fall into our captivity, then I shall allow myself to establish a fire here.’

So, when Abnun heard that the Romans had invaded the empire, he prayed to the gods for Shapur's victory. As an incentive to get the gods on his side, he vowed to dedicate a sacred fire at Frayosh if his king won

That did the trick.
Then, when it was heard that the Romans had come and Shapur the King of kings had smitten them and had worsted them [so that they fell into our captivity, then I began to] establish [a fire], and its name was made ‘Remain (i.e., live long) Shapur and Abnun’.
You don't get better historical evidence that that! Gordian III was defeated at Misikhe and Abnun dedicated this fire altar to his sovereign.

The Romans were economical with the truth.


* Translation of “The Fire Altar of Happy *Frayosh” by D.N.Mackenzie, via the Sasanika website.


Upper left: Photograph credit to Livius Picture Archive.

Lower left: M. Tavoosi, 'An inscribed capital dating from the time of Shapur I', Bulletin of the Asia Institute 3, 1989, Figs ii, iii. Originally described as a capital of a building, it has since been recognized and accepted as a fire altar, albeit of a new type; see R.N. Frye, 'Historical Interpretations in Middle Iranian', in (W. Skalmowski & A. Van Tongerloo, eds.) Medioiranica, 1993, 65-69.

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