The amazing King Tut birthday! :) [2 of 2]
Now that I think about it, I realize there was a constant emphasis of the Pharaoh — a symbol of rightness and order? — triumphing over entangled, combative animals. Do the raging animals symbolize the disorder and “unright” chaos of the assaulting foreigners? Further (in a personally exciting moment of inspiration) I wonder: does this style of art perhaps reflect translatively on Scytho-Sarmatian art?! If so, how very cool!
I loved Tjuya’s gilded funerary mask: she really looks like she’s smirking at some personal joke, even in death! There was an incredibly fine weave on the linen that was draped over her body and the mask. It left a dark residue, which allowed us to see how beautiful their linen crafts were.
I notice the Egyptians of that time seem to use boxes differently than we do. Our boxes all open on the top, with the lid lifting off, or flipping up like the top of a jack-in-the-box (do they even make those for kids any more?). However, the boxes I saw in the funerary goods had different sorts of lids. They all seemed to uniformly open on one end of the top part, lifting up with part of the front/side still in the right angle edge — I wish I could draw this with ASCII or something. The boxes all used little mushroom-shaped, capped handles too — just like the shape we use in bathrooms and chests of drawers today, which made me smile.
I’ve been studying the sacred texts of Inanna in some of my Women’s Spirituality classes, and her symbol of power (which I think is a measuring tool of some sort?) looks in her hand like a circle or hoop she’s holding, with a short, straight stick on the side the hand is closed about, protruding from each side of the fist. I was both startled and quite interested to realize some of the ankhs in the funerary goods I saw look remarkably like a slightly revised version of Inanna’s circle/crossbar symbol of power!
Further, Inanna was referred to the divine Celestial Cow in some of her texts — and I saw a written reference to the “Celestial Cow” in one of the panels of explanatory text on display. Unfortunately, the fact that that is a goddess’s name is mentioned only in the auditory tour. Now that I think about it, all the displays still use the archaic old BC (Before Christ) too, instead of the more modern and widely applicable BCE (Before the Common Era).
Later on in the beautiful displays I spotted a falcon pectoral or collar of sheet gold, which was laid on the chest of the mummy which they have on display. The falcon with wings outspread is, of course, Horus protecting the deceased in the afterlife. What thrilled me is when I notice: he’s holding the circle/crossbar of Inanna in each clawed foot!
The beautiful canopic chest of Tjaya (a powerful and politically connected priestess of Amun, if I recall correctly — and not the same woman as Tjuya) was displayed, and I was interested to note there were beautiful goddesses inlaid and painted on the front and back — while the gods were shown only on the sides. There was also a curious translation of the hieroglyphic writing on the shabti of Tjaya — the little figurine interred with her, to act as a substitute for her were she called upon to perform manual labor in the afterlife. We were told the writing translated as “Highest Lady of the Harem of Amun.”
I find myself annoyed: as I noted previously, “harem” is an Arabic concept, where women were effectively isolated and sequestered away from all other people, for the sole sexual use of some male person of power. Clearly this was not the case with Tjaya, since she was politically powerful as well as a high priestess in public ceremonies. So was the poor word choice of harem simply sloppy translating? Shame on them, if so. Tell me the truth, not some silly nonsense the translator found personally titillating! Worse: what other words did the translator do a poor job with? What other wonderful concepts or stories am I missing or misunderstanding, because of scholastic sloppiness?
Moving along, I notice Akhenaten (the pharaoh who tried to force monotheism) is always depicted as twice Nefertiti’s size, while she’s apparently known only as a great beauty — this in a time when queens before and after her are known for their great wisdom and power. The entire concept of queen as “ornament” rather than political partner seems sadly appropriate for a pharaoh who is apparently so insecure that he must insist there is only one single male god, and he (Akhenaten) is the deity’s main interpreter. Curiously, Akhenaten is shown with rather female characteristics too: he appears slightly “breasted,” and has very plump thighs, derriere, and tummy. Is that an artifact of the art style of the time, or was Akhenaten perhaps “compensating” more than we realize? I see he is often depicted in rather phallic headdress too! ;) [Later note: apparently that odd body type is just an artistic convention of the time; see A frail King Tut died from malaria, broken leg; if that link is dead try the archived copy here.]
There’s a famous carving of him displayed in the museum which shows him, Nefertiti, and their daughter making offerings to the many-handed sun. Interestingly, they both look somewhat Nubian through the lips and nose, and the display explains this is supposedly a new art style Akhenaten preferred. Earlier sculptures of him showed the old style: super elongated face with narrow head, very high cheekbones, tilted almond shaped eyes… that sort of thing. The style looks… almost alien, or elven looking, to me.
Later, I am enchanted by a cosmetic jar with a lion, rendered in what I think is alabaster, reclining relaxedly on the lid. The description states the lion symbolizes Tutankhamen — and I see he is sticking his tongue out just like the dancing cat-man on the chair I described earlier! I have to laugh — it looks adorable — and I wonder if that’s a bit of common body language at the time which we now simply don’t know any more — like the “thumbs-up” sign for “okay” we still do today in the US. There’s really lovely embossing of the lion’s braided or wavy mane over his head; like he was one of the curious maneless lions or something? The little lion even has pierced ears with little gold rings in them! He’s incredibly cute, and I’m impressed at the artist that caught such humor in a piece that was doubtless intended to mostly convey power and majesty.
The jar is round, but appears to open just like all the boxes do: with a hinged, top-and-side lid. The entire thing sits on two little, attached crossbars which are decorated with tiny heads on each of the four ends. One bar’s heads are Nubian, the other’s are “Western Asian.” Apparently they are the enemies of the Egyptian state, and thus are depicted below the lion-king and his cosmetic-jar “mountain-top.” The carving is really nice and detailed: the Nubian heads are all black — ebony, maybe? – and have braided hair running in straight cornrows from their foreheads to the back of their heads. There are tiny little ivory earrings in their ears, and they both appear to be snarling fiercely.
The opposite cross-bar is finished with what I think are the Asian heads, and they are red-skinned with thick, trimmed black beards and slightly less flat faces than the Nubians; their faces are more ridged with emotion, I think? One of the Asians is bald, with a pointier beard and a slightly pained looking expression, which made me smile ruefully. The braids of the non-bald one are different from those of the Nubians, interestingly — he has a thick, loose braid on the right of his head, with multiple hanging braids on the other side and what looks like short cornrows on the top of the head. I find myself staring in fascination at the tiny carving, wondering if I’m seeing here one of the few remaining close-up renditions of Scythian hair styles!
In closing, a few more things I saw that made me happy: some of the glass or ceramic jars have the most incredible vibrant blues! I absolutely love that shade. Also, there’s a curving horned cow head that looks almost precisely like the famous one found in Crete! Beautiful.
The museum display is fascinating, and more than just an awed account of all the loot we pulled from Tut’s tomb. I’m pleased there’s so much information on the world around the young pharaoh, as well as some interesting speculation on the mystery of his early death, and some history on his illustrious family. King Tut at the DeYoung is definitely worth seeing.