Objects and artifacts, far from being inanimate creations, exert an agency imbued by their creators depending on the purpose of the creation. These can have multiple functions, be it for symbolic or practical use, or a combination of both depending on the circumstances of the objects usage, and how exactly its representation is interpreted. Materials such as gold and silver are deemed precious, yet functionally are less valuable than copper or steel in their practical usage. Similarly, symbols of kingship and religion, such as saintly relics, affirm legitimacy and exert agency far beyond the material value of the objects, and such value changes overtime with shifts in cultural and material perceptions. For the purpose of this blog, I will be using a simple terracotta oil lamp as an example of an artifact reflecting cultural values and norms of its context. This will include a brief description of the object, and how the matter, form and aesthetics of the object reflect the cultural milieu of its use.
The artifact I have selected is a lightweight and very attractive earthenware vessel of unknown provenance. Its design lends to the idea that it was used by an individual of high social standing, possibly for the consumption of wine or some other beverage. It was most likely wheel-formed given its symmetry and the thinness of the fabric, also indicating skilled craftsmanship.
This is an ornate bronze lamp, dating back to somewhere between the 12-14th centuries, most likely of Iranian origin. It is clear that the body, handle, base, and lid were cast separately by the presence of the welding marks between each individual part. The handle has a thumb rest at the top, with the figure of a mythical hybrid of a woman and bird, which was in typical fashion of oil lamps from the region of Khorasan. There are intricate geometric designs of a different metal engraved onto the surface of the lamp. These designs are fairly common of Islamic art, which use intricate geometric figures and symmetrical designs. With closer examination, however, one can see the form of a bird hidden in the geometric and linear design on the sides of the lamp. At the top of the lamp is a line of pseudo-Kufic script, which compliments the geometric and linear designs found all over the body and base. Though it is a dark, aged green color now, the lamp at the time of its use would have been a magnificent, gleaming bronze.
Ceramics has evolved greatly over time, not just technologically but also symbolically and artistically. Although we tend to look at ceramics from a purely art historical lens, archaeologically, ceramics have become a way to examine the process of globalization and the expansion of the global trade networks of the modern era. Demand for these has driven economies and formed identities, while also inspiring imitative traditions, that more often than not, take their own shape and form, developing into a major creative force with new directions. This can be seen when looking at the rise and fall of “China” in the Ottoman Empire.
At the height of the Ottoman Empire in the Sixteenth Century, many Ottoman ceramics were greatly influenced by the import of Chinese porcelains during this time. Iznik wares were typically based on elaborations of themes appearing in Chinese porcelains and were considered a good alternative to expensive imports. From the mid-Fifteenth through Sixteenth century, Iznik was the most important center for high quality ceramic production and distribution. Chinese porcelain was a luxury that only the elite could afford and ceramics were created in their likeness as Ottoman artisans created a uniquely Ottoman style based on their characteristics. Due to their high quality, Ottoman wares were also considered exotic, prestigious oriental wares in and of themselves. They were maintained as a symbol of power relationships such as status, wealth and rank throughout the Empire as the state and elite highly supported the industry during this time. Thus, our current understanding tends to focus on types used by and made for the elite class. Outside this relatively small circle the distribution and manufacturing of ceramics is largely unexplored.
An example of this can be found in the Minassian Collection, which resides in Brown University. Above we find a blue and white ceramic on an earthenware body displaying a floral motif. Cracks seen all over the body can be attributed to the low quality of the firing process, while the centrality and flatness of the design can be attributed to a low quality imitation of Iznik pottery. The unelaborated quality of the design is not consistent, seemingly done quickly by freehand. This was a common practice as tradition and appeal was so great that any quality of Chinese porcelain imitations were considered desirable. Chinese influence was in the concept rather than the detail of the works themselves. The Minassian piece portrays a tightly introverted arabesque style that can be interpreted at any point as a single element or a connected whole. The size and shape of the bowl indicates that it was a decorative element rather than a functionary one. The emergence of low quality pottery emerged due to market demand, where many potters deviated from court styles, adopting more freehand styles, which were sold on the market and exported out. However, towards the end of the Sixteenth century, unable to maintain these high standards due to a decline in state support and patronage, craftsmen found it difficult to obtain supplies, and potters at Iznik began to produce wares in increasingly debased style similar to the one seen below. Production shifted from elite ceramics to wares that became more heavily associated with inexpensive ceramics consumed by middle and peasant classes.
Sources:
Carroll, Lynda. Could’ve Been a Contender: The Making and Breaking of “China” in the Ottoman Empire. International Journal of Historical Archaeology, Vol. 3, No. 3 (September 1999), pp. 177-190
Denny, Walter. Blue-and-White Islamic Pottery on Chinese Themes. Boston Museum Bulletin, Vol. 72, No. 368 (1974), pp. 76-99
Among the ceramics in the Joukowsky’s collection is a mostly complete bowl—the entire base and roughly two-thirds of the sides remaining. The bowl is glazed beige with brown details. The inside bottom contains the most complex design. Many spirals about a centimeter in diameter cover the majority of the bottom. Two opposing wisp shapes are left uncovered, and, extrapolating as a little of the original work has been lost to corrosion, 6 disks a little bigger than the spirals are filled in. The design on the inside bottom is roughly radially symmetric, i.e. every slice along the diameter is symmetric with respect to the origin.
This item is a circular terracotta stamp, roughly 13 cm in diameter, possibly for leaving an image upon bread. Cast from a mould, it has a sunken figural image in the center, and a banded rope frame around the central image, with another geometric motif along the outer edge (Fig. 1). When pressed into bread, before the leavened loaf would have risen, a relief design would have been left as indicated by the picture of a cast made from the stamp below (Figure 2). The reverse is crudely molded by hand, with several finger prints remaining, and a small square handle was affixed. The central image shows a large bearded figure being grasped around the midriff by a smaller man who appears to be running. A satyr stands in the background holding what appears to be a club.
This week in class we focused on the sculptures found in the Cycladic Islands of the southern Aegean: the collection of art known as Early Cycladic figures. After reading several analyses that hypothesize about the figures’ form, context, and overall meaning, we discussed in our small group sections our observations and our own theories about the works. Why are there a vast number of figures understood to be female, and so few depictions of the male form? Perhaps, as was suggested in my section, women had a significant role in the mourning rituals during the Early Cycladic era, a view supported by the vast majority of the figures found in graveyards. Why, of the five figures depicting red lines on the face, are four significantly larger in size? We discussed in my section that, if the red lines are meant to be a pictorial representation of the historically controversial practice of women scratching their cheeks until they bleed as a symbol of grief, perhaps the larger figures depict more important women. Maybe we are analyzing sculptures of dead queens.
Despite the significant guesswork about the figures and the role they would have played in the early Cycladic culture, it is almost impossible to prove any of these theories, considering the lack of writing from the time period. But the very existence of the sculptures does indicate certain possibilities about the Cycladic culture: some kind of social stratification, some kind of necessity or desire to depict the human form, an artistic cohesion across the islands, a society peaceful and economically stable enough to enable the creation of art and sculpture. Even though we may never be completely certain why and for what purpose the figures were made in the Early Cycladic time, their influence on our modern artistic aesthetics is definitive. Nowadays we would classify the figures’ design as minimalist: a stripped down delineation of form, dependent on geometric stability rather than ornamentation. The artistic influence of the figures on modern sculpture is apparent in, for example, the sculpture of Amedeo Modigliani and Constantin Brâncuşi. Modigliani’s “Woman’s Head” of 1912 is an abstracted, elongated form that recalls the facial features visible on the Cycladic figures. Brâncuşi’s “The Kiss” from 1916 evokes the consistent feature of the sculptures in the position of the arms, although it presents two figures in an embrace rather than an individual. The consistent abstract and minimalist portrayal of individuals is, however, what unifies the aesthetic style of these works, be they from thousands of years before our time or a little over one hundred years ago. Or, one could simply say that, since we have been able, art is about the expression of the self. Humans have been depicting the human form since they have been able to use the power of art as a form of expression.
This class was the first time I encountered the Cycladic figures, despite having already learned about the art they’ve influenced. For a reason I can’t quite completely explain, the figures make me sad in some way, perhaps because they meant so much to an entire culture and we don’t know why they decided to make them. Were they depictions of the dead – objects made out of grief and sorrow? Were they representations of life, carried through time until they found their way into graves? Were they objects of ritual – dark and powerful talismans? I don’t know. Although we discovered these artifacts that once belonged to people who must have had some of the same fears and dreams and loves we did, the people of these figures seem so far away. I advocate for the continued investigation into what the figures meant to the cultures that made them, so we can find out what they mean to us.
One peculiar feature appearing on almost all of the Cycladic figures is the pose of the crossed arms. Some argued that this pose was meant to represent the crossed arms of a corpse. Some say it was an ingenious decision by the designers to keep the arms intact. Others looked at the arms and imagined a mother cradling a child. When I look at the figures and their arms, I imagine them holding their secrets inside of themselves, safe and strong.