1 INTRODUCTION Jaś Elsner and Stefanie Lenk
1 Parochet AD 1676 North Italy Linen embroidered with silk and silver-gilt thread and bordered with silver-gilt fringe; H 190.5 cm Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 511–1877 This elaborately decorated curtain was used to cover a Torah Ark that contains the Torah scrolls of a synagogue. The Tablets of the Law form a centrepiece, surrounded by a complex arrangement of 12 scenes representing Jewish festivals and Sabbaths.
Imagining the Divine sets out to explore the creation of the art of some of the world’s great religious traditions – the faiths we now know as Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam – in the first millennium ad. It is easy to assume that the major religions of the world are fixed entities, distinct from each other in many respects, notably in their arts. Yet this book, and the exhibition that accompanies it, show that this has never been the case. Religious images, even the most iconic ones, are the product of encounter: dialogue, influence and differentiation. All religions have developed images and symbols that are markers of identity – instantly recognisable to their followers and to adherents of other faiths. These images differ significantly from one another, effectively emphasising certain beliefs that each religion’s adherents have wanted to stress. Take a classic form of the Buddha, for example: a typical Tibetan thangka, or painting on silk (no.2) of the later fifteenth century shows him in the posture of touching the earth to quell the demons of illusion immediately before his enlightenment. Or take the icon painted on wood in Crete in the same century, showing Christ enthroned in glory between the Virgin Mary and St John the Baptist who intercede with him for the sake of believers (no.3). These images embody their faiths, manifesting the personal charisma of the religion’s founder in figural form. They stand in contrast to what are usually viewed as the more abstract, or aniconic, affirmations of religions such as Judaism and Islam. One example is the parochet, or linen curtain, embroidered in silk and silver gilt thread; it was made in Venice in ad 1676 to cover the Ark that contained the biblical scrolls in a synagogue. The parochet portrays the tablets of the law in the centre and a series of Jewish festivals in the small scenes with oval borders containing Hebrew script which adorn the frame around the central image (no.1). Likewise, the beautifully ornamented certificate of pilgrimage to Mecca (the Hajj), made in ink and gold on paper and dating from ad 1432/3, shows some key sites, including the Ka’ba sanctuary in Mecca (with different stations of pilgrimage), Muhammad’s tomb at Medina and the relic of his sandal (no.4). Both these objects, visually typical of their religions, include sophisticated evocations of ideal artefacts and architecture, but are careful to avoid the depiction of persons or animals. By contrast again, Hinduism affirms not just multiple gods, but many aspects of the same god in different shapes, and in imagery that may include animals as well as the human form. A fine painting in watercolour [ 13 ]
1 INTRODUCTION Jaś Elsner and Stefanie Lenk
1 Parochet AD 1676 North Italy Linen embroidered with silk and silver-gilt thread and bordered with silver-gilt fringe; H 190.5 cm Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 511–1877 This elaborately decorated curtain was used to cover a Torah Ark that contains the Torah scrolls of a synagogue. The Tablets of the Law form a centrepiece, surrounded by a complex arrangement of 12 scenes representing Jewish festivals and Sabbaths.
Imagining the Divine sets out to explore the creation of the art of some of the world’s great religious traditions – the faiths we now know as Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam – in the first millennium ad. It is easy to assume that the major religions of the world are fixed entities, distinct from each other in many respects, notably in their arts. Yet this book, and the exhibition that accompanies it, show that this has never been the case. Religious images, even the most iconic ones, are the product of encounter: dialogue, influence and differentiation. All religions have developed images and symbols that are markers of identity – instantly recognisable to their followers and to adherents of other faiths. These images differ significantly from one another, effectively emphasising certain beliefs that each religion’s adherents have wanted to stress. Take a classic form of the Buddha, for example: a typical Tibetan thangka, or painting on silk (no.2) of the later fifteenth century shows him in the posture of touching the earth to quell the demons of illusion immediately before his enlightenment. Or take the icon painted on wood in Crete in the same century, showing Christ enthroned in glory between the Virgin Mary and St John the Baptist who intercede with him for the sake of believers (no.3). These images embody their faiths, manifesting the personal charisma of the religion’s founder in figural form. They stand in contrast to what are usually viewed as the more abstract, or aniconic, affirmations of religions such as Judaism and Islam. One example is the parochet, or linen curtain, embroidered in silk and silver gilt thread; it was made in Venice in ad 1676 to cover the Ark that contained the biblical scrolls in a synagogue. The parochet portrays the tablets of the law in the centre and a series of Jewish festivals in the small scenes with oval borders containing Hebrew script which adorn the frame around the central image (no.1). Likewise, the beautifully ornamented certificate of pilgrimage to Mecca (the Hajj), made in ink and gold on paper and dating from ad 1432/3, shows some key sites, including the Ka’ba sanctuary in Mecca (with different stations of pilgrimage), Muhammad’s tomb at Medina and the relic of his sandal (no.4). Both these objects, visually typical of their religions, include sophisticated evocations of ideal artefacts and architecture, but are careful to avoid the depiction of persons or animals. By contrast again, Hinduism affirms not just multiple gods, but many aspects of the same god in different shapes, and in imagery that may include animals as well as the human form. A fine painting in watercolour [ 13 ]
2 RELIGIONS IN THE ROMAN WORLD Philippa Adrych and Dominic Dalglish
Distinguishing gods: Zeus, Ser apis, Ammon
14 (opposite) Votive plaque c.AD 1–200 Found in Basel, Switzerland Chased silver; H. 9.5 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, AN1995.91 This plaque was probably presented to a sanctuary as a form of prayer to Jupiter (Zeus). He is shown enthroned beside an eagle (a royal bird) and carries an orb, a symbol of his dominion. The god’s right hand, now missing, would have brandished a lightning bolt. A votive inscription in Latin reads: ‘For health’.
[ 30 ] introduction
The Roman empire was inhabited by an incredible assortment of peoples, with numerous languages, customs, arts and religious ideas. At its greatest extent under the emperor Trajan (r.98–117) it spanned the area from Spain to the Persian Gulf, and from Britain to southern Egypt. The positioning of its armies, and the security that they provided for free movement across its full extent, helped to characterise the Roman imperial period (from the first to the fourth centuries ad) as one of encounter and exchange between diverse cultures. Many religions of this empire, which we now refer to as ‘polytheistic’ or ‘pagan’, were not bounded by the strictures and doctrines of ‘monotheistic’, scriptural religions, such as Christianity, Judaism or Islam. As the word polytheistic suggests, this ancient world was full of gods. To many, Zeus (Jupiter to the Romans) is perhaps the best known god of the ancient world. He was one of the most revered deities of ancient Greece – one of many that made up a pantheon, each with their own areas of responsibility over the natural world and human affairs. Zeus was their king, the master of lightning, lord of Mount Olympus. Seated on his throne, this bearded, mature yet muscular ruler, waited on by beautiful cupbearers, was the recipient of prayers and sacrifice from worshippers below (no.14). This is a common conception of an ancient god, complete with strands of myth, literary flourishes, ritual action and a visual representation that puts a face to the name (no.9). Whether we are speaking of Athens in the fifth century bc or Rome in the third century ad, this type of portrayal is often invoked when thinking of Zeus or Jupiter. Similar conceptions exist for the array of gods considered part of these civilisations’ pantheons. But what relation does this modern construction of the figure of Zeus, and others like him, bear to a god of the ancient past? Is this what a deity was? We may find that ‘gods’ were in fact far less distinct than this type of portrayal would suggest. Many sources provide us with traces of this figure. Poems, plays, his tories and satires give us myth; inscriptions tell us where and by whom a god was worshipped, and, when we are lucky, offer us a glimpse of how this occurred. Architectural remains give us a context for worship, while an assortment of artistic media, from simple figurines to elaborate sculptures, [ 31 ]
2 RELIGIONS IN THE ROMAN WORLD Philippa Adrych and Dominic Dalglish
Distinguishing gods: Zeus, Ser apis, Ammon
14 (opposite) Votive plaque c.AD 1–200 Found in Basel, Switzerland Chased silver; H. 9.5 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, AN1995.91 This plaque was probably presented to a sanctuary as a form of prayer to Jupiter (Zeus). He is shown enthroned beside an eagle (a royal bird) and carries an orb, a symbol of his dominion. The god’s right hand, now missing, would have brandished a lightning bolt. A votive inscription in Latin reads: ‘For health’.
[ 30 ] introduction
The Roman empire was inhabited by an incredible assortment of peoples, with numerous languages, customs, arts and religious ideas. At its greatest extent under the emperor Trajan (r.98–117) it spanned the area from Spain to the Persian Gulf, and from Britain to southern Egypt. The positioning of its armies, and the security that they provided for free movement across its full extent, helped to characterise the Roman imperial period (from the first to the fourth centuries ad) as one of encounter and exchange between diverse cultures. Many religions of this empire, which we now refer to as ‘polytheistic’ or ‘pagan’, were not bounded by the strictures and doctrines of ‘monotheistic’, scriptural religions, such as Christianity, Judaism or Islam. As the word polytheistic suggests, this ancient world was full of gods. To many, Zeus (Jupiter to the Romans) is perhaps the best known god of the ancient world. He was one of the most revered deities of ancient Greece – one of many that made up a pantheon, each with their own areas of responsibility over the natural world and human affairs. Zeus was their king, the master of lightning, lord of Mount Olympus. Seated on his throne, this bearded, mature yet muscular ruler, waited on by beautiful cupbearers, was the recipient of prayers and sacrifice from worshippers below (no.14). This is a common conception of an ancient god, complete with strands of myth, literary flourishes, ritual action and a visual representation that puts a face to the name (no.9). Whether we are speaking of Athens in the fifth century bc or Rome in the third century ad, this type of portrayal is often invoked when thinking of Zeus or Jupiter. Similar conceptions exist for the array of gods considered part of these civilisations’ pantheons. But what relation does this modern construction of the figure of Zeus, and others like him, bear to a god of the ancient past? Is this what a deity was? We may find that ‘gods’ were in fact far less distinct than this type of portrayal would suggest. Many sources provide us with traces of this figure. Poems, plays, his tories and satires give us myth; inscriptions tell us where and by whom a god was worshipped, and, when we are lucky, offer us a glimpse of how this occurred. Architectural remains give us a context for worship, while an assortment of artistic media, from simple figurines to elaborate sculptures, [ 31 ]
The path to the icon of Chr ist The rich multilayered structure of Christian narratives was contrasted with the direct message of portrait-like icons and effigies. On a marble sarcophagus (no.44), Christ is represented in the centre holding an open codex; Peter and Paul stand at his sides with scrolls in their hands. The space between the figurative panels is occupied by curvilinear ornament. It has been suggested that these patterns, known as ‘strigillation’, were not a mere decoration device, but that their wave-like, pulsating design transmitted a sense of dynamism and divine energy.31 This created an engaging contrast to the static frontal poses of the saints, placed symmetrically in the centre and at the margins like three keys on a piano. Although narrative is absent, the content reveals itself in the parallelism of the standing poses of the saints, each facing into the centre, and of the items they hold. Christ is portrayed as a teacher who sets out the path of salvation. The book in his hand may refer to the scriptures, the Holy Gospels, as well as serving as a more metaphorical reference to Christ himself as the Logos (Divine Word). Peter and Paul assume the role of Christ’s followers and also of the main missionaries, bringing the message of the Gospels to different parts of the world (no.45).
44 (opposite top) Two fragments from a sarcophagus c.AD 300–400 Found in Rome Carved marble; H. 55 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, AN2007.47.a–b Jesus, who is portrayed as a beardless youth, holds an open book. His disciples Peter and Paul hold scrolls (probably the New Testament epistles they wrote) and look toward their teacher. 45 (opposite bottom) Censer AD 602–10 Constantinople Chased silver; H. 7.5 cm © The Trustees of the British Museum, 1899,0425.3 This censer was used to burn fragrance during religious services. Its six sides are decorated with bust images of saints in medallions. Christ, bearded and holding a book, is flanked by Sts Peter and Paul, while the Virgin is between St John the Theologian and St James.
[ 62 ] the rise of the image of christ
the rise of the image of christ [ 63 ]
The path to the icon of Chr ist The rich multilayered structure of Christian narratives was contrasted with the direct message of portrait-like icons and effigies. On a marble sarcophagus (no.44), Christ is represented in the centre holding an open codex; Peter and Paul stand at his sides with scrolls in their hands. The space between the figurative panels is occupied by curvilinear ornament. It has been suggested that these patterns, known as ‘strigillation’, were not a mere decoration device, but that their wave-like, pulsating design transmitted a sense of dynamism and divine energy.31 This created an engaging contrast to the static frontal poses of the saints, placed symmetrically in the centre and at the margins like three keys on a piano. Although narrative is absent, the content reveals itself in the parallelism of the standing poses of the saints, each facing into the centre, and of the items they hold. Christ is portrayed as a teacher who sets out the path of salvation. The book in his hand may refer to the scriptures, the Holy Gospels, as well as serving as a more metaphorical reference to Christ himself as the Logos (Divine Word). Peter and Paul assume the role of Christ’s followers and also of the main missionaries, bringing the message of the Gospels to different parts of the world (no.45).
44 (opposite top) Two fragments from a sarcophagus c.AD 300–400 Found in Rome Carved marble; H. 55 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, AN2007.47.a–b Jesus, who is portrayed as a beardless youth, holds an open book. His disciples Peter and Paul hold scrolls (probably the New Testament epistles they wrote) and look toward their teacher. 45 (opposite bottom) Censer AD 602–10 Constantinople Chased silver; H. 7.5 cm © The Trustees of the British Museum, 1899,0425.3 This censer was used to burn fragrance during religious services. Its six sides are decorated with bust images of saints in medallions. Christ, bearded and holding a book, is flanked by Sts Peter and Paul, while the Virgin is between St John the Theologian and St James.
[ 62 ] the rise of the image of christ
the rise of the image of christ [ 63 ]
The Bamiyan Buddhas The Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang, translator of the Heart Sutra (no.59), visited the valley of Bamiyan in central Afghanistan in the early seventh century. He reported that there were three monumental images of the Buddha, two standing at the sides of the valley and one reclining. Of the largest standing Buddha, 53 metres in height, he declared that ‘its golden hues sparkle on every side, and its precious ornaments dazzle the eyes by their brightness’.55 They were fairly new in his time, originally made in the late sixth century, and they are the earliest surviving examples in a tradition of cutting colossal Buddhas into rock faces that would travel to China, to the caves of Longmen and Leshan. Today only one of the Bamiyan Buddha images survives. The reclining statue, which shows the final achievement of nirvān.a, was excavated in 2008. The two standing figures are now gone, with only the great niches, into which they were set, remaining. Even before their destruction in March 2001,56 much of the two great standing images had disappeared, as neither was built to last very long without constant repair and refurbishment. Rather than carve a fully articulated statue from the rock, the rough shape was hewn in deep relief within the sandstone cliffs and a superstructure of wood, plaster, paint and the gilding that sparkled for Xuanzang was added. That had mostly disappeared by the nineteenth century and what remained was reportedly ‘much injured by cannon-shot’.57 When the Buddhas were made, the valley contained a vibrant community. Bamiyan lay on trade routes that
[ 100 ] envisioning the buddha
connected Central Asia and Gandhara. It was a centre for the Lokot.t.aravādin school, an important early branch of Buddhism. Local and regional political elites probably provided the funds necessary to make the great statues, and certainly provided patronage for the monasteries and the many monks who lived near them. The monks provided expertise on the iconography, but they also saw to the maintenance and care of the images, and explained them to visitors. Many of the first Buddhist images were supplementary to the focus of ritual activity, which was the great stupas and the relics enclosed within them. These stupas vary in size, but the largest can dominate a landscape: the surviving base of the Dharmarajika stupa in Taxila, on the far side of the Hindu Kush from Bamiyan, for instance, is 50 metres in diameter; it may have been taller still when in use, complete with banners and decorative parasols. However, the introduction of the Buddha image in the first and second centuries ad created the possibility of ‘seeing’ the Buddha directly, enabling his human form to become a part of Buddhist worship. Many teachings from this period involve visualisation of a Buddha; some images became the central focus of ritual activities or were used to house relics themselves. A tradition of colossal Buddhas, often in dedicated shrines, developed in stucco in Gandhara from the third century. Whether this was the case for the Bamiyan images is unclear and they remain enigmatic.58 The nearby monasteries had relics; a number of pilgrims report items including a robe, the alms bowl of a teacher and the
giant tooth of a former Buddha, but the valley is unusually short of the stupa mounds which dot other parts of Afghanistan. The three monumental Buddhas, cut into the living rock in a near miraculous feat of human artistry and as high as the highest stupa, must have been the most prominent elements in the landscape, as their remains are today. Robert Bracey
79 (opposite) Rock-cut statue of the Buddha c.AD 575–600 Bamiyan, Afghanistan Photographed before 2011 INTERFOTO / Alamy Stock Photo
envisioning the buddha [ 101 ]
The Bamiyan Buddhas The Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang, translator of the Heart Sutra (no.59), visited the valley of Bamiyan in central Afghanistan in the early seventh century. He reported that there were three monumental images of the Buddha, two standing at the sides of the valley and one reclining. Of the largest standing Buddha, 53 metres in height, he declared that ‘its golden hues sparkle on every side, and its precious ornaments dazzle the eyes by their brightness’.55 They were fairly new in his time, originally made in the late sixth century, and they are the earliest surviving examples in a tradition of cutting colossal Buddhas into rock faces that would travel to China, to the caves of Longmen and Leshan. Today only one of the Bamiyan Buddha images survives. The reclining statue, which shows the final achievement of nirvān.a, was excavated in 2008. The two standing figures are now gone, with only the great niches, into which they were set, remaining. Even before their destruction in March 2001,56 much of the two great standing images had disappeared, as neither was built to last very long without constant repair and refurbishment. Rather than carve a fully articulated statue from the rock, the rough shape was hewn in deep relief within the sandstone cliffs and a superstructure of wood, plaster, paint and the gilding that sparkled for Xuanzang was added. That had mostly disappeared by the nineteenth century and what remained was reportedly ‘much injured by cannon-shot’.57 When the Buddhas were made, the valley contained a vibrant community. Bamiyan lay on trade routes that
[ 100 ] envisioning the buddha
connected Central Asia and Gandhara. It was a centre for the Lokot.t.aravādin school, an important early branch of Buddhism. Local and regional political elites probably provided the funds necessary to make the great statues, and certainly provided patronage for the monasteries and the many monks who lived near them. The monks provided expertise on the iconography, but they also saw to the maintenance and care of the images, and explained them to visitors. Many of the first Buddhist images were supplementary to the focus of ritual activity, which was the great stupas and the relics enclosed within them. These stupas vary in size, but the largest can dominate a landscape: the surviving base of the Dharmarajika stupa in Taxila, on the far side of the Hindu Kush from Bamiyan, for instance, is 50 metres in diameter; it may have been taller still when in use, complete with banners and decorative parasols. However, the introduction of the Buddha image in the first and second centuries ad created the possibility of ‘seeing’ the Buddha directly, enabling his human form to become a part of Buddhist worship. Many teachings from this period involve visualisation of a Buddha; some images became the central focus of ritual activities or were used to house relics themselves. A tradition of colossal Buddhas, often in dedicated shrines, developed in stucco in Gandhara from the third century. Whether this was the case for the Bamiyan images is unclear and they remain enigmatic.58 The nearby monasteries had relics; a number of pilgrims report items including a robe, the alms bowl of a teacher and the
giant tooth of a former Buddha, but the valley is unusually short of the stupa mounds which dot other parts of Afghanistan. The three monumental Buddhas, cut into the living rock in a near miraculous feat of human artistry and as high as the highest stupa, must have been the most prominent elements in the landscape, as their remains are today. Robert Bracey
79 (opposite) Rock-cut statue of the Buddha c.AD 575–600 Bamiyan, Afghanistan Photographed before 2011 INTERFOTO / Alamy Stock Photo
envisioning the buddha [ 101 ]
Iconoclasm Stefanie Lenk
When a South Arabian votive stele depicting a goddess with two attendants (no.80) was made in the beginning of the first millennium, the patron Ghalilat was obviously concerned about the possibility of attacks against the carving and hoped for its divine protection.79 The Sabaean inscription reads: ‘Image of Ghalilat daughter of Mafaddat and may Athtar destroy him who breaks it’. This inscription is evidence for the long history of the destruction of images, also called iconoclasm, in the ancient world (no.107). Because iconoclasm is by definition destructive, it is easy to forget that iconoclastic acts are by no means proof of a hostile attitude towards images in general. On the contrary: the often selective mutilations suggest that many iconoclasts did not intend to destroy the image as such, but had nuanced views on what makes an image potent and dangerous. Reasons for iconoclasm are as varied as religious beliefs, and can also be political, aesthetic or personal. It is not at all unthinkable that some iconoclasts may efface in one image what they value in another that pertains more to their own beliefs. It is usually hard to tell when and why an image was damaged, and whether this was done deliberately. However, the marks left from an attack point to what it was that the iconoclasts found offensive. These marks are valuable evidence for our understanding of relationships with images in late antiquity and beyond. In the first millennium, heated controversies about what an image is, and whether it should be used for devotional practices, were common in many religions. For instance, the question of whether an image is a mere representation, or if instead the image is somehow animated because the depicted subject is embodied in the image, is raised in Buddhist, Christian and Muslim writings and in various Hindu traditions.80 Interestingly, there seems to be a consistent pattern about which body parts of a represented figure are most often destroyed. A bust of Germanicus (15 bc–ad 19), heir designate of Emperor Tiberius, was partially destroyed by Christians (no.108).81 They reacted to the worship and divinisation of emperors and members of the imperial family, whose portraits were considered by some as pagan idols. Germanicus’s nose has been broken off, while a thin saw mark on the throat shows that someone attempted to remove his head – but failed because of the extreme hardness of the stone. Such interventions, which hinder images from ‘breathing’, ‘seeing’ or ‘living’, suggest that antique cultures shared a fear of images being animated.82 Curiously both of
[ 128 ]
107 (opposite) Stele of Rabi’at c.AD 100–300 South Arabia Carved calcite; H. 24 cm © The Trustees of the British Museum, 1935,0309.2 The ancient inhabitants of South Arabia placed images of dedicators in their temples. These were usually accompanied by inscriptions naming the dedicator and invoking divine protection. The figure on this stele has been obliterated, and only the fragmentary Qatabanic inscription ‘Image of Rabi’at...’ remains.
[ 129 ]
Iconoclasm Stefanie Lenk
When a South Arabian votive stele depicting a goddess with two attendants (no.80) was made in the beginning of the first millennium, the patron Ghalilat was obviously concerned about the possibility of attacks against the carving and hoped for its divine protection.79 The Sabaean inscription reads: ‘Image of Ghalilat daughter of Mafaddat and may Athtar destroy him who breaks it’. This inscription is evidence for the long history of the destruction of images, also called iconoclasm, in the ancient world (no.107). Because iconoclasm is by definition destructive, it is easy to forget that iconoclastic acts are by no means proof of a hostile attitude towards images in general. On the contrary: the often selective mutilations suggest that many iconoclasts did not intend to destroy the image as such, but had nuanced views on what makes an image potent and dangerous. Reasons for iconoclasm are as varied as religious beliefs, and can also be political, aesthetic or personal. It is not at all unthinkable that some iconoclasts may efface in one image what they value in another that pertains more to their own beliefs. It is usually hard to tell when and why an image was damaged, and whether this was done deliberately. However, the marks left from an attack point to what it was that the iconoclasts found offensive. These marks are valuable evidence for our understanding of relationships with images in late antiquity and beyond. In the first millennium, heated controversies about what an image is, and whether it should be used for devotional practices, were common in many religions. For instance, the question of whether an image is a mere representation, or if instead the image is somehow animated because the depicted subject is embodied in the image, is raised in Buddhist, Christian and Muslim writings and in various Hindu traditions.80 Interestingly, there seems to be a consistent pattern about which body parts of a represented figure are most often destroyed. A bust of Germanicus (15 bc–ad 19), heir designate of Emperor Tiberius, was partially destroyed by Christians (no.108).81 They reacted to the worship and divinisation of emperors and members of the imperial family, whose portraits were considered by some as pagan idols. Germanicus’s nose has been broken off, while a thin saw mark on the throat shows that someone attempted to remove his head – but failed because of the extreme hardness of the stone. Such interventions, which hinder images from ‘breathing’, ‘seeing’ or ‘living’, suggest that antique cultures shared a fear of images being animated.82 Curiously both of
[ 128 ]
107 (opposite) Stele of Rabi’at c.AD 100–300 South Arabia Carved calcite; H. 24 cm © The Trustees of the British Museum, 1935,0309.2 The ancient inhabitants of South Arabia placed images of dedicators in their temples. These were usually accompanied by inscriptions naming the dedicator and invoking divine protection. The figure on this stele has been obliterated, and only the fragmentary Qatabanic inscription ‘Image of Rabi’at...’ remains.
[ 129 ]
156 Anonymous coin c.AD 600 Found at Crondall, Hampshire Gold; Diam. 1.2 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, HCR43806 Part of a hoard discovered in 1828, this is one of the earliest known Anglo-Saxon coins. It imitates an older, Roman piece which dates from the reign of the emperor Licinius (r.308–24).
157 Anonymous coin c.AD 600 Found at Crondall, Hampshire Gold; Diam. 1.2 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, HCR43805 This coin was also part of the Crondall Hoard. Instead of a profile head based on earlier Roman coins, however, it carries a frontal bust, possibly portraying a Christian saint.
155 (opposite) Evangelist Luke with his symbol, the ox, and New Testament scenes c.AD 550–600 Italy Tempera and ink on parchment; H. 25 cm The Master and Fellows of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, MS 286, fol.129v This manuscript is believed to have been brought to England in AD 597 by missionaries, sent by the Pope of Rome to re-introduce Christianity to the country. It contains the four Gospels, each originally preceded by a full-page picture; only one such image now survives).
[ 176 ] christianity in the british isles
bolstered Charlemagne’s adoption of the imperial title (no.159).145 Through the collection of early Christian models, and the official patronage of art they inspired, Charlemagne presented himself as the true heir of Roman emperors such as Constantine. Christian art in the British Isles drew significant inspiration from the Carolingian court, but the existence of a network spreading as far as Constantinople in the east meant there were diverse influences from which to pick and choose. Moreover, artists from the British Isles participated fully in this Christian network themselves, travelling and spreading their faith on the continent. Missionaries from Columbanus’s federation of monasteries in western Scotland, and from England, devoted themselves to extending the Church into the northern German regions on the continent. They established monasteries in these areas, and also at Bobbio in Italy; we can identify distinctive insular styles in some of the works of art produced in these continental centres. Because of such mutual influences, it is sometimes very hard to tell whether an object was manufactured in Britain or on the continent (no.160). Through diplomatic and trade connections, this Christian network intersected with other networks even further afield. The Ballycottin Cross christianity in the british isles [ 177 ]
156 Anonymous coin c.AD 600 Found at Crondall, Hampshire Gold; Diam. 1.2 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, HCR43806 Part of a hoard discovered in 1828, this is one of the earliest known Anglo-Saxon coins. It imitates an older, Roman piece which dates from the reign of the emperor Licinius (r.308–24).
157 Anonymous coin c.AD 600 Found at Crondall, Hampshire Gold; Diam. 1.2 cm Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford, HCR43805 This coin was also part of the Crondall Hoard. Instead of a profile head based on earlier Roman coins, however, it carries a frontal bust, possibly portraying a Christian saint.
155 (opposite) Evangelist Luke with his symbol, the ox, and New Testament scenes c.AD 550–600 Italy Tempera and ink on parchment; H. 25 cm The Master and Fellows of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, MS 286, fol.129v This manuscript is believed to have been brought to England in AD 597 by missionaries, sent by the Pope of Rome to re-introduce Christianity to the country. It contains the four Gospels, each originally preceded by a full-page picture; only one such image now survives).
[ 176 ] christianity in the british isles
bolstered Charlemagne’s adoption of the imperial title (no.159).145 Through the collection of early Christian models, and the official patronage of art they inspired, Charlemagne presented himself as the true heir of Roman emperors such as Constantine. Christian art in the British Isles drew significant inspiration from the Carolingian court, but the existence of a network spreading as far as Constantinople in the east meant there were diverse influences from which to pick and choose. Moreover, artists from the British Isles participated fully in this Christian network themselves, travelling and spreading their faith on the continent. Missionaries from Columbanus’s federation of monasteries in western Scotland, and from England, devoted themselves to extending the Church into the northern German regions on the continent. They established monasteries in these areas, and also at Bobbio in Italy; we can identify distinctive insular styles in some of the works of art produced in these continental centres. Because of such mutual influences, it is sometimes very hard to tell whether an object was manufactured in Britain or on the continent (no.160). Through diplomatic and trade connections, this Christian network intersected with other networks even further afield. The Ballycottin Cross christianity in the british isles [ 177 ]
9 CONCLUSION Stefanie Lenk and Jaś Elsner
Opposite: detail of no. 93
[ 210 ] introduction
Imagining the Divine, and the exhibition that it accompanies, have emphasised many of the ways in which objects and images came to define and differentiate discrete religions in late antiquity. We have explored the ways in which these religions were in visual dialogue with each other and the cultures that preceded them. It remains, by way of conclusion, to stress that both religions and material objects, forms of belief and works of art are the products of people. It is people living in contiguity with each other, travelling across boundaries or discovering the artefacts and texts that have come from afar who bring their own ways of doing things and of seeing the world – so deeply embodied in the objects they make – into confrontation, dialogue and conflict with others. Works of art, especially in the arena of religion, are a record of the encounters of people and their influence on one another. This process was fundamental to the formation of the modern world – its attitudes, its visual cultures and its religious identities. It remains fundamental and highly topical in the contemporary era of globalisation, the many challenges of migration and immigration (both from the point of view of migrants and from that of members of their receiving communities), the many questions of tolerance, exclusion, cosmopolitanism and cultural autonomy that have come to define the first decades of the twentyfirst century. Although the immediacy of the modern media means that we can know at once in Beijing what is happening in New York (including in the realm of visual production), or in Paris about what is happening in Jakarta, this kind of contemporary dissemination is not so different from the slower movement of artefacts in late antiquity. In those centuries coins, pieces of cloth, tokens such as the glass seal at the centre of the Ballycottin Cross (no.161) from Western Europe travelled to far away in the East, while others came from China, India or Arabia to the North Sea. Those artefacts were a medium of people’s imaginations, perceptions, beliefs and hopes about cultures different from their own. Reworking such objects was a way of responding to them, by integrating, resisting or appropriating a foreign artefact as well as the fantasies of the cultural world it evoked. In the case of the Ballycottin Cross, for instance, an exotic object was ‘tamed’ by inclusion in a new cruciform frame. Its Frankish users may have given a new sense and purpose to its non-figural invocation of Allah as though it were pure decoration, and indeed they may never have realised the meanings of its script. Yet the seal may also have retained the exoticism [ 211 ]
9 CONCLUSION Stefanie Lenk and Jaś Elsner
Opposite: detail of no. 93
[ 210 ] introduction
Imagining the Divine, and the exhibition that it accompanies, have emphasised many of the ways in which objects and images came to define and differentiate discrete religions in late antiquity. We have explored the ways in which these religions were in visual dialogue with each other and the cultures that preceded them. It remains, by way of conclusion, to stress that both religions and material objects, forms of belief and works of art are the products of people. It is people living in contiguity with each other, travelling across boundaries or discovering the artefacts and texts that have come from afar who bring their own ways of doing things and of seeing the world – so deeply embodied in the objects they make – into confrontation, dialogue and conflict with others. Works of art, especially in the arena of religion, are a record of the encounters of people and their influence on one another. This process was fundamental to the formation of the modern world – its attitudes, its visual cultures and its religious identities. It remains fundamental and highly topical in the contemporary era of globalisation, the many challenges of migration and immigration (both from the point of view of migrants and from that of members of their receiving communities), the many questions of tolerance, exclusion, cosmopolitanism and cultural autonomy that have come to define the first decades of the twentyfirst century. Although the immediacy of the modern media means that we can know at once in Beijing what is happening in New York (including in the realm of visual production), or in Paris about what is happening in Jakarta, this kind of contemporary dissemination is not so different from the slower movement of artefacts in late antiquity. In those centuries coins, pieces of cloth, tokens such as the glass seal at the centre of the Ballycottin Cross (no.161) from Western Europe travelled to far away in the East, while others came from China, India or Arabia to the North Sea. Those artefacts were a medium of people’s imaginations, perceptions, beliefs and hopes about cultures different from their own. Reworking such objects was a way of responding to them, by integrating, resisting or appropriating a foreign artefact as well as the fantasies of the cultural world it evoked. In the case of the Ballycottin Cross, for instance, an exotic object was ‘tamed’ by inclusion in a new cruciform frame. Its Frankish users may have given a new sense and purpose to its non-figural invocation of Allah as though it were pure decoration, and indeed they may never have realised the meanings of its script. Yet the seal may also have retained the exoticism [ 211 ]
Map of the World (India to Ireland) c.ad 250
Map of the World (India to Ireland) c.ad 850
[ 222 ]
footnotes [ 223 ]
Map of the World (India to Ireland) c.ad 250
Map of the World (India to Ireland) c.ad 850
[ 222 ]
footnotes [ 223 ]