Community: bloggers@brooklynmuseum

It’s hard to believe that the season is almost over: this was our last full week of work, and it has been hot. Still, we finally reached the level of the paving west of the Taharqa Gate. In the center and north the paving is fairly well-preserved. On the south, however, it has been widely robbed out. Directly above the paving lies about 50 cm of fairly compact soil (although still with considerable amounts of pottery) that built up over the years and was probably a walking surface. Built on this level is the mud brick wall mentioned last week that forms the southern boundary of the area. (more…)

The “Silk Road” has been a hot topic in recent years, thanks in part to the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 and the resulting reintroduction of independent Central Asian countries to the rest of the world. The phrase conjures up different images for different people, ranging from silk textiles, Bactrian camels, Marco Polo, and China, to Mongolian throat singers and polo matches, to celebrities motorcycling across Mongolia and Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road Project. But most, if not all, of these images are driven by the idea that cultures can and do cross boundaries of space and time, connecting different regions and periods together in creative and important waysAt the Brooklyn Museum, “Silk Road Fever” has been ongoing in the second-floor galleries, which include and connect the arts of Asia and the Islamic world. A corner space situated between the permanent galleries of the arts of China and the Islamic world provided the ideal location for an installation of “Silk Road” art. I use quotes here because the more appropriate term for the Silk Road or Route would be Silk Roads (or Routes), as it included several land routes between China and Venice. And, if I were to be completely honest, the current display includes works that could have traveled between East and West by land or by sea. The title for the exhibition therefore draws on the association of the Silk Route with cultural transmission; the works displayed emphasize the many cross-cultural connections between China and the Islamic world in the form of decorative motifs and subject matter, artistic techniques, and objects produced for trade or other forms of exchange. My personal favorite of the works included in this exhibition was made in a part of China that was connected to the Islamic world through maritime trade rather than overland routes.

Traveling Coffer, ca. 1250. Lacquer over leather, bamboo, wood, metal mounts, 17 1/4 x 28 3/8 x 15 in. (43.8 x 72.1 x 38.1cm). Brooklyn Museum, 1996.68.

That object (1996.68), pictured here, is a lacquer painted, tooled, and gilded traveling coffer that belongs to the Asian art collection. It might seem a little odd that a curator specializing in the arts of the Islamic world would choose a Chinese work as her favorite, but I love this piece because it contains so many visual and technical features shared between the arts of China, Iran, and Central Asia-possibly even Tibet. Medallions containing real and mythical animals, as well as floral and vegetal motifs appear in a series of panels framing each section of the object and cornered by various cloud collar forms. The central medallion at front depicts a landscape with a fantastical lion chasing a brocaded ball, a common motif in Chinese art, but which reached Iran and other Islamic lands probably through the movement of textiles carrying the same motif. Many of these animals carry auspicious meanings in China, related to wishes such as longevity and prosperity; sometimes the meanings traveled westward, especially when Mongol rule in Iran under the Ilhkanids (1256-1353) and in China under the Yuan (1271-1368) connected the two regions more directly. In fact, radiocarbon dating tells us the coffer was produced in the mid-thirteenth century, which corresponds to the Mongol invasions in China and the subsequent formation of the Mongol Yuan dynasty. In other cases, motifs had existed in both contexts and could symbolize different things; the confronted phoenixes appearing in the central medallion of the coffer’s lid have long histories in both China, where the phoenix is called fenghuang, and in Iran, where it is known as simurgh.

Traveling Coffer (detail), ca. 1250. Lacquer over leather, bamboo, wood, metal mounts, 17 1/4 x 28 3/8 x 15 in. (43.8 x 72.1 x 38.1cm). Brooklyn Museum, 1996.68.

The remaining surface of the object is densely decorated with foliage or geometric patterns using the techniques of qiangjin (”engraved gold”) and giangcai (”engraved color”) developed under the Song. In this technique, gold leaf or powder and pigmented lacquer are added to lines engraved into the lacquered ground. Lacquer objects played an increasingly significant role in the artistic exchanges between China and Iran during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries and carving techniques used in Chinese lacquer were translated into exquisitely carved woodwork in Iran. What is fascinating about the Brooklyn Museum coffer is that it represents a Chinese decorative technique and even individual Chinese motifs, but its overall decorative composition is much more closely connected to the decorative tradition of Iranian manuscripts and bookbindings, which inspired much of the art and architecture of the Islamic world. Some scholars have even linked works like this to lacquerware recovered from Tibet. These multiple cultural associations are not unusual given the connections the Mongols enjoyed as a result of their vast territorial expansion as well as their support of Tibetan Buddhism.

So who would have made such an object and what would its function have been? The first question is an easy one to answer, since an inscription in Chinese characters under the flap of the front lid reveals who made this trunk and where:  “Made by the Ou family of Wenzhou, Xinhe Street, Anning Ward.” Wenzhou in Zhejiang province was a center for lacquer production since the preceding Song dynasty (960-1279) was in power. A description written in 1147 of the Northern Song capital at Kaifeng even mentions lacquer transported approximately 600 miles specifically from Wenzhou. As the name of this family is not a common Chinese name, it is possible that the Ou family originated in Central Asia, and perhaps that they were Muslim artists living and working in Wenzhou; Muslim communities are certainly known to have been formed in China after the advent of Islam in the seventh century. As for the coffer’s function, we can only guess; the wealth of auspicious motifs on its surface suggests a wedding trunk as one possibility. If you have a better idea, however, I would love to hear it!

The Silk Route between China and the Islamic World is on view until the end of May 2009; it will return as a long-term installation in September 2009. Please come and see the several other beautiful and interesting works included in the exhibition!

When 1stfans launched with the Swoon printing event on January 3rd, it was a pretty crazy night. Though Shelley and I didn’t get to meet every 1stfan who attended, we were able to meet a few. One of the people we met was a guy named Matt Held. He said he was a painter and had this project on Facebook. He and his wife live in Brooklyn, he said, and had been regular Museum Members for a couple years. He joined 1stfans because he thought it was a cool idea, and he talked a little about his project, in which he paints people’s Facebook profiles as portraits. He got his print (you can see Matt and his wife Joelle in the photo above) and was on his way. Shelley thought it would be cool if we could get him to speak at a 1stfans meetup, and I agreed. We approached Matt, and he liked the idea too. Like our last 1stfans presenter Lisa Bruno, Matt was a good fit to speak because he’s a 1stfan Member and Museum supporter.

Fast forward a month or so, and Matt Held has become something of an internet phenomenon. His project, which he chronicles on a blog in addition to the facebook group, was picked up by several art and museum blogs (<— 5 links). Last week, Matt even made it into the “lowbrow-brilliant” quadrant of New York magazine’s weekly Approval Matrix and this week he’s profiled by Gillian Reagan in The New York Observer. When Shelley and I visited Matt at his studio last week, he seemed excited and a little overwhelmed by the attention he’s received as of late. Since we were used to seeing these paintings online, I was surprised at how spectacular they looked in person (granted, I’m no curator). It is for this reason that we are particularly excited to have Matt speak to 1stfans at Target First Saturday on March 7th.

At 7pm, Matt will be giving a talk exclusively to 1stfan Members about his project. He is going to bring a few of the portraits for 1stfans to see, and then afterwards he’s going to pick one far-away 1stfan’s Facebook profile to do as part of his project. If you’d like to hear Matt speak and you aren’t already a 1stfan Member, you can join right here.

Late last week we uncovered the top of a fairly substantial mud brick wall running across the Taharqa Gate square (left), but we only had its north face. On Saturday we opened a new area to the south of this square, hoping to find the wall’s south face. (more…)

Museums are full of small-scale changes of exhibition that are worth seeing but easily missed because they don’t get any publicity. Sometimes it’s as simple as replacing one of our usual displays with a rarely-seen object because the better-known piece is being loaned to another institution. Other times it’s a matter of repainting a wall so the objects displayed there look completely different. I think many of us are guilty of believing that we don’t need to visit the permanent collection galleries of our local museums because we’ve already seen them, but in truth most of those galleries are in constant flux. It’s worth revisiting even the most familiar collection because you never know what new discoveries you might make.

Xie Shichen (Chinese, 1487 - c. 1567), Landscape. Fan, now mounted flat: ink on gold dusted paper. Overall: 7 1/2 x 19 1/2 in. (19.1 x 49.5 cm). The Brooklyn Museum: Gift of H. Christopher Luce, 1993.193.

A great example of a big change that takes place in Brooklyn’s permanent collection galleries without even a whisper of P.R. is the Museum’s annual rotation of Asian paintings. Every January we change out all the paintings in the Asian galleries, usually selecting the new group to represent a single theme that runs through several different cultures. It amounts to a mini-exhibition, but one that appears interspersed with the rest of the Asian objects on permanent view.

This year the theme of the rotation is landscape. We put up 19 paintings in January and they look absolutely gorgeous.

Great tomes can and have been written about the significance of landscape in East Asian art and culture. I’m not going to try to cover it all here. Suffice it to say that the landscape painting tradition has its roots in the belief that time spent in a natural setting is therapeutic and enlightening, offering benefits and lessons that no amount of culture or scholarship could. This is an idea that lots of Westerners share, but the Western world came to it much later. (Think about how “new” Thoreau’s Walden seemed in its time.) Chinese, Japanese, and Korean landscape paintings are mostly not the antique equivalent of Sierra Club calendar photos, however, because most of their artists weren’t recording the actual appearance of mountains and shorelines. Most of the paintings were created indoors, and first-hand knowledge of the wilderness was not always a prerequisite for a successful painting.

Like much great art, East Asian landscape painting is a means of communicating many levels of meaning in a reasonably compact way. The viewer of a landscape painting can approach it from several directions at once:

Noro Kaiseki (Japanese, 1747-1828), Landscape. Hanging scroll: ink and light color on silk. Image only: 50 x 19 1/2 in. (127 x 49.5 cm). Brooklyn Museum: Gift of Dr. Richard and Ruth Dickes, 84.134.1

- First, one must make sense of the scene. This isn’t always easy, since often much is obscured by bands of clouds or general haziness. Twisting rock forms that “should” read as far-away peaks often seem to be impossibly top heavy, leaning in from above with no discernable base. In figuring out the spatial progression of the scene (or lack thereof), one starts realizing that this isn’t a real place. This isn’t a window onto a landscape but rather a landscape used as a window onto other concerns.

- After one is oriented, one can try to place oneself in the scene, to imagine what it would be like to be there. Artists often provide winding footpaths and little pavilions so the viewer can wander around and settle into parts of the landscape. Having entered it, one can discern the moisture in the air, the loose rubble under foot, the vast distance that lies between shores or mountain peaks. For all the abstraction of a landscape, it should still offer the viewer a familiar feel or experience.

- A knowledgeable viewer might recognize certain features that identify the scene with a specific site (although most paintings represent a fantastic landscape, imagined by the artist) and then remember that that site was mentioned in a celebrated poem. The landscape then brings to mind the emotional content or “lesson” of the poem. The viewer can assess the artist’s presentation of the scene with reference both to the poem and to other paintings that allude to the same verse: does this painting capture the same emotions as the words? Does it add anything to our interpretation of those words? Does it do so differently than other paintings of the same subject?

Kim U-beom (Korean, 19th century), Landscape with Bare Plum Trees. Hanging scroll now mounted flat: ink and light color on paper. 30 5/16 x 13 in. (77 x 33 cm). Brooklyn Museum: Gift of John M. Lyden, 84.197.3.

- Similarly, one might recognize certain features in the landscape that are highly symbolic, for instance gnarled pines (representing longevity) or blossoming plum trees (hope for new beginnings) or bamboo (resilience). This symbolism adds flavor to the overall effect of the painting. Again, some of these elements, singly or in combination, might bring to mind famous passages of literature.

- One might recognize segments of the painting that look like the work of other, well-known artists. If you spend some time looking at Asian painting, you discover that there are literally thousands of ways of applying ink to paper (or silk), and that each way offers different coloristic and textural effects. Certain types of brushwork came to be associated with individual masters and their schools, as did certain compositions and other features. A painting that quotes any of these features becomes a riff on Art History; by referencing earlier paintings it recalls moments in time and well-known artistic personalities. The viewer can weigh the contributions of the painting at hand against those of its predecessors, and the comparison might reveal something new.

Watanabe Shiko (Japanese, 1683-1755), Landscape. Hanging scroll: ink on paper. Image: 13 x 17 1/2 in. (33 x 44.5 cm). Brooklyn Museum: Gift of Mrs. Harold G. Henderson in memory of Professor Harold G. Henderson, 74.201.3.

So a well-made landscape painting speaks to the knowledgeable viewer on many levels: it offers an imaginary journey as well as a wealth of literary and artistic allusions to bigger issues. What’s interesting to many Western viewers, who were raised to expect landscapes to be picturesque, is that most of these paintings were not designed to elicit an “ooh, pretty” response (although many of these paintings are indeed quite pretty). Instead, an awful lot of East Asian landscape painting inspires emotions that even the most avid tree-hugger would tend to avoid in everyday life: feelings of isolation and discomfort, a sense of one’s own mortality and insignificance. So why go there? Because looking at pretty things usually doesn’t teach us as much about ourselves as looking at disturbing things does. And some of the most complex and fascinating experiences can be found in a combination of disturbing and pretty.

In any case, I invite you to come by the Museum any time before January 2010 to admire a fine selection of Asian landscape paintings in the second floor galleries. I have illustrated a few of them here, but they’re much better (and bigger!) in person.