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15 minute read
Indian Metalwork
to the Singapore covered cup and the present cup, is in the David Collection, Copenhagen. This is illustrated in Kjeld von Folsach, Art from the World of Islam in The David Collection, 2001, p. 238, no. 360. This is dated to the eighteenth century.
Rock crystal is a colourless and transparent form of quartz. It is very much harder and clearer than glass, making it a popular medium for the carving of luxury objects, boxes, vessels and jewellery. Amongst the most celebrated rock crystal objects from the Islamic medieval courts are the exquisite products of the Fatimid workshops. These have survived in relatively large numbers, mainly in European church treasuries. While rock crystal objects continued to be produced after the fall of the Fatimids in 1171, these works of art from other periods and regions have not generated the same level of interest amongst scholars and collectors.1
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In Mughal India there was a great revival in the art of rock crystal carving. According to Pedro Moura Carvalho, Mughal interest in rock crystal is evident not only from the number of surviving pieces but also in the numerous references to the hardstone in contemporary sources such as Abu’l Fazl.2 Jahangir owned an unusual collection of rock crystal objects from different origins including Europe, where during the late Renaissance hardstone carving reached new heights.3 His treasures included boxes from Europe, a crystal cup supposedly from Iraq which he gave to Shah CAbbas I, and a crystal figure, possibly Chinese, that he received from the king of Bijapur.4 These varied objects stimulated the Mughal craftsmen to new heights of technical virtuosity during the reign of Shah Jahan. The kundan technique for the inlay of gold and gemstones ensured that the applied decoration of objects achieved a similarly high level of craftsmanship and design to match the superb quality of the carving.
Provenance: Mr and Mrs Henry Ford II, acquired 1960 Kathleen DuRoss Ford (1940-2020), an accomplished photographer and former model, was married to Henry Ford II (19171987), the automotive tycoon and eldest grandson of Henry Ford I, from 1980 to 1987 when he passed away. Henry Ford II was the President of the Ford Motor Company from 1945-1960, CEO from 1945-1979, and Chairman of the Board Directors from 1960 to 1980. He is credited with reviving the fortunes of the company through innovation and an aggressive management style that yielded dividends. The iconic 1949 Ford was designed by his team called the “whizz kids”; 1,118,740 cars of this very successful model were sold.
Mrs Ford had homes in Palm Beach, Eaton Square in London, and Turville Grange in Oxfordshire. She was a generous host to a large group of international friends including Lily Tomlin and Margaret Thatcher, to whom she lent her Eaton Square house when Thatcher left Downing Street for the last time on 28th November 1990.
References: 1. Pedro Moura Carvalho, Gems and Jewels of Mughal India: Jewelled and Enamelled objects from the 16th to 20th centuries, 2010, pp. 54-56. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid.
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TOY SOLDIER OF A CAVALIER WITH A SWORD
south-eastern india (vizaGapatam), circa 1795
heiGht: 10.5 cm Width: 6.7 cm depth: 3.4 cm
This cast brass toy soldier depicts a moustachioed cavalryman brandishing a large sword and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, seated on a horse standing on a rectangular platform. He wears a pleated skirt under a military frock coat with two rows of buttons fastened with toggles, while the horse has a knotted mane and a pair of large beaded straps holding the saddlecloth in place at its rear. Details are delicately cast such as the very fine strands of hair on the mane of the horse swept to one side, through which pass the reins held by the cavalier, disappearing then appearing again. The cavalier’s riding boots, tucked into stirrups, have a long, pointed and greatly exaggerated curve. A most charming detail is the strap for his hat, which instead of going under the chin seems to be tied to his hair at the back, attached by a rope to perhaps his ponytail.
In comparison with the cantering horses often seen in this group of toy soldiers, the horse here stands upright as if in formation at the beginning or end of a parade. The cavalryman also sits upright staring ahead with both pride and pleasure registering on his smiling face, his chest puffed out and his back arched slightly to enhance his military bearing. His straight sword, held with his elbow pointing back and his sleeve creased into precise multiple folds, enhances the deliberately rigid stance. The horse however turns its head to its right to animate the group posture, while its hind feet seem ready to break into a trot as soon as it can do so. Examples from this delightful group of toy soldiers can be seen in the collections of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford; the Victoria and Albert Museum, London; the National Army Museum, London; the Madras Museum; the Madras School of Art; and the Royal Collection at Sandringham House. The seven mounted figures in the Ashmolean result from the gifts of two private donors, A. J. Prior and the eminent scholar Simon Digby, who pioneered research into this group. The attribution to Vizagapatam is based on inscriptions on the elephant at the Ashmolean, which has the date of 1795 on its forehead and the name VIZAGAPATAM in Roman capitals on the saddlecloth covering its rump.1
In describing the Ashmolean group, J. C. Harle and Andrew Topsfield observe that unlike Western examples, the toy soldiers are not manufactured uniformly by piecemoulding, but are individually cast
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by the cire perdue (lost wax) process, thus having a greater variety of detail and expression.2 Even toy soldiers of related design, like similar cavaliers and lancers, differ in many subtle details. With their large hands, squat bodies, enormous weapons and upright bearing, they “graphically illustrate” what Sir George Birdwood terms “the whole gamut of military swagger in man and beast”.3
The history attached to the toy soldiers in the Madras Museum, recorded by the supervisor Edgar Thurston, suggests that they were commissioned by Raja Timma Jagapati IV (died 1797) of Peddapuram, 80 miles south of Vizagapatam, on the advice of his astrologers for presentation to Brahmins in order to avert his death. Another version of the story relates that the astrologer advised the Raja to review his toy army each day without bloodshed in order to escape his demise. They were supposedly designed by a mysterious artist named Arditi and cast by two brothers, Virachandracharlu and Viracharlu.4
For Digby and Harle, this Victorian history of the toy soldiers’ origins is unconvincing as they are not Indian in style; they argue instead that the toy soldiers were conceived by a talented though not professional modeller, an English or French officer in Vizagapatam, which had an English factory (trading post) since 1682 and was briefly captured by the French in 1758. The toy soldiers are very skilful caricatures and caricature is not part of the Indian tradition.5 An Indian bronze or brass would have been modelled by the caster and not by a separate designer. The un-Indian rectilinear bases also come from a European tradition. Digby and Harle observe that “the satire is directed at the pretentions of certain military types, their swagger. This is achieved by the posture of the figures and by exaggerating the size of their weapons and certain articles of clothing; this in turn, makes the figures look smaller and their pompousness more ridiculous”.6
References: 1. Simon Digby and J. C. Harle, Toy Soldiers and Ceremonial in Post-Mughal India, 1982, pp. 5-6. 2. James C. Harle and Andrew Topsfield, Indian Art in the Ashmolean Museum, 1986, p. 67. 3. Ibid., p. 66. The toy soldiers were first described in George Birdwood, The Industrial Arts of India, 1880, p. 162, pls. 20-26. 4. J. C. Harle, “Toy Soldiers” in The Oxford Magazine, 6th February 1970, pp. 136-139, quoting Edgar Thurston, “Brass Manufactures in the Madras Museum”, in the Journal of Indian Art and Industry, 1892, and an unissued publication by Thurston. Evidence that model armies were popular with minor nobility is provided by a miniature in Mark Zebrowski, Deccani Painting, 1983, p. 277, fig. 258, depicting a procession of toy soldiers on the raja’s terrace. 5. Harle, 1970, pp. 138-139; Digby and Harle, 1982, pp. 6-7. 6. Ibid.
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TOY SOLDIER WITH KNEELING HORSE AND LANCE
south-eastern india (vizaGapatam), circa 1795
heiGht: 12.8 cm Width: 7.6 cm depth: 3.7 cm
This cast brass toy soldier is a moustachioed lancer sitting astride a horse kneeling on its front legs on a rectangular platform. He wears a huge hat with a wide brim resembling a sombrero at a jaunty angle and brandishes a long spear of exaggerated length. His riding boots are also exaggerated in length and curve dramatically through the stirrups to a point. An immensely thick chunky scarf is looped to swaggering effect around his shoulder and waist, from which a huge sword in a scabbard dangles. All these elements dwarf the horse which nevertheless puts on an impressive display.
The horse has been trained to kneel on its front legs and here the performance is made more challenging by the fact that it must bear the rider’s weight as well as that of his large and heavy accoutrements. The rider stares haughtily ahead with great pride at his horse and his own splendid ensemble, while the horse turns its head to look at the viewer as if to say that it has performed this feat to order, but it has been no easy task. Indeed, an element of struggle in the posture reveals the complexity of the pose for the animal to which the rider is oblivious and at the same time demonstrates the absolute mastery of the bronze caster. The sculpture skilfully balances the teetering weight of the elements and the postures of the horse and lancer so that the dignity of parade the lancer so wants to achieve is undercut by the slightly precarious balance of the horse. The whole edifice greatly impresses but might just come crumbling down at any moment. The fact that we are ignored by the lancer while the horse looks to the viewer for sympathy mixed with some of the pride of the rider, demonstrates the psychological acuity of the master bronze caster.
Examples from this delightful group of toy soldiers can be seen in the collections of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford; the Victoria and Albert Museum, London; the National Army Museum, London; the Madras Museum; the Madras School of Art; and the Royal Collection at Sandringham House. The seven mounted figures in the Ashmolean result from the gifts of two private donors, A. J. Prior and the eminent scholar Simon Digby, who pioneered research into this group. The attribution to Vizagapatam is based on inscriptions on the elephant at the Ashmolean, which has the date of 1795 on its forehead and the name VIZAGAPATAM in Roman capitals on the saddlecloth covering its rump.1
In describing the Ashmolean group, J. C. Harle and Andrew Topsfield observe that unlike Western examples, the toy soldiers are not manufactured uniformly by piece-
moulding, but are individually cast by the cire perdue (lost wax) process, thus having a greater variety of detail and expression.2 Even toy soldiers of related design, like similar cavaliers and lancers, differ in many subtle details. With their large hands, squat bodies, enormous weapons and upright bearing, they “graphically illustrate” what Sir George Birdwood terms “the whole gamut of military swagger in man and beast”.3
The history attached to the toy soldiers in the Madras Museum, recorded by the supervisor Edgar Thurston, suggests that they were commissioned by Raja Timma Jagapati IV (died 1797) of Peddapuram, 80 miles south of Vizagapatam, on the advice of his astrologers for presentation to Brahmins in order to avert his death. Another version of the story relates that the astrologer advised the Raja to review his toy army each day without bloodshed in order to escape his demise. They were supposedly designed by a mysterious artist named Arditi and cast by two brothers, Virachandracharlu and Viracharlu.4
For Digby and Harle, this Victorian history of the toy soldiers’ origins is unconvincing as they are not Indian in style; they argue instead that the toy soldiers were conceived by a talented though not professional modeller, an English or French officer in Vizagapatam, which had an English factory (trading post) since 1682 and was briefly captured by the French in 1758. The toy soldiers are very skilful caricatures and caricature is not part of the Indian tradition.5 An Indian bronze or brass would have been modelled by the caster and not by a separate designer. The un-Indian rectilinear bases also come from a European tradition. Digby and Harle observe that “the satire is directed at the pretentions of certain military types, their swagger. This is achieved by the posture of the figures and by exaggerating the size of their weapons and certain articles of clothing; this in turn, makes the figures look smaller and their pompousness more ridiculous”. 6
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References: 1. Simon Digby and J. C. Harle, Toy Soldiers and Ceremonial in Post-Mughal India, 1982, pp. 5-6. 2. James C. Harle and Andrew Topsfield, Indian Art in the Ashmolean Museum, 1986, p. 67. 3. Ibid., p. 66. The toy soldiers were first described in George Birdwood, The Industrial Arts of India, 1880, p. 162, pls. 20-26. 4. J. C. Harle, “Toy Soldiers” in The Oxford Magazine, 6th February 1970, pp. 136-139, quoting Edgar Thurston, “Brass Manufactures in the Madras Museum” in the Journal of Indian Art and Industry, 1892, and an unissued publication by Thurston. Evidence that model armies were popular with minor nobility is provided by a miniature in Mark Zebrowski, Deccani Painting, 1983, p. 277, fig. 258, depicting a procession of toy soldiers on the raja’s terrace. 5. Harle, 1970, pp. 138-139; Digby and Harle, 1982, pp. 6-7. 6. Ibid.
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JADE HORSE-HEAD KNIFE
india (muGhal), circa 1650
lenGth of Knife: 22.2 cm lenGth of hilt: 9 cm Width of hilt: 0.9 cm depth of hilt: 3.9 cm lenGth of scabbard: 20.8 cm lenGth of Knife in scabbard: 27.3 cm
A carved jade knife (kard) with a straight single-edged steel blade, the very pale green jade delicately carved in the form of a horse’s head, with flaring nostrils, blazing eyes set with rubies in the kundan technique within gold collets, slightly open mouth baring teeth and gently rounded cheeks.
Though the hilt is carved with great delicacy and is diminutive in scale as befits a small personal knife, the features of the horse are powerfully sculpted. The line of the jaw is strong, and the muscles of the face ripple under the taut skin of the horse’s head. The firm musculature of the jaw area is indicated by a refined combination of incised outlines and undulating surfaces that create volume as well as muscle tension under the skin, bringing the horse to vivid life.
The combed mane is finely incised for detail and swept as if by the wind to the horse’s right. The delicacy of the knife is most evident from a direct view of the horse from the front, where the unusually narrow proportions and penetrating glaze of the red ruby eyes combine to create a sleek image of speed, precision, and haughty, aristocratic elegance. We have no doubt whatsoever that the horse is a lithe thoroughbred, ready to break into an effortless gallop at high speed.
The blade is inlaid in the koftgari technique with stylised floral sprays within cusped cartouches to either side. The proportions of blade and hilt are beautifully balanced to form a knife that affords pleasure to both the eye and the hand. Small knives such as this were hung from a patka (sash) as a princely symbol, or sometimes housed in the sheath of larger knives or weapons.
The scabbard is covered with red velvet and has a cusped locket and chape of chased gold set in the kundan technique with flowers and leaves of cabochon rubies, emeralds, and faceted diamonds. Gold cords are wound round the scabbard to provide further embellishment from which is suspended an elaborate articulated ornamental floral tassel of petals and buds wrapped in gold.
A green nephrite kard hilt carved in the similar form of a horse’s head but slightly larger dimensions and rounded rather than flattened oval grip in the al-Sabah Collection, Dar al-Athar al-Islamiyyah, is illustrated in Salam Kaoukji, Precious Indian Weapons and Other Princely Accoutrements, 2017, p. 203, cat. no. 71. On pp. 204-205, Kaoukji illustrates a horse-head knife with a slightly curved blade decorated with gold koftgari work. Kaoukji dates both the hilt and the knife from the al-Sabah collection to the first half of the seventeenth century.
While describing a carved jade knife with a sheep’s head in the Nasser D. Khalili Collection of Islamic Art, Pedro Moura Carvalho in Gems and Jewels of Mughal India: Jewelled and enamelled objects from the 16th to 20th centuries, 2010, pp. 88-89, observes that the emperor Jahangir is often portrayed wearing kards in paintings of his reign, demonstrating that the small knife was a weapon of which he was particularly fond. His successors seem to have preferred other arms, namely larger daggers (khanjars). Carvalho draws our attention to two paintings of Jahangir from the Minto Album, “Prince Salim as a Young Man”, circa 1635, now in the Victoria and Albert Museum, in which the prince wears a kard carved with a human head for the pommel; and a painting of “Jahangir Holding the Orb”, circa 1635, now in the Chester Beatty