PHARAOHS AND FLAPPERS

Egyptology

Egyptologists John & Colleen Darnell examine the connection between ancient Egypt and the fashion and interiors styles of the 1920s

Photos of John and Colleen at the Armour-Stiner Octagon House by Rose Callahan

leopatra VII Philopator, the last scion

Cof an ultimately bloody and incestuous dynasty that began with Alexander the Great’s invasion of Egypt, committed suicide in 30 BCE, so ancient historians claimed, with the bite of an asp. Yet prior to her death she was both an astute and capable queen – her Egyptian Horus Name was ‘Great One, Lady of Perfection, She who is Effective of Council’ – and a woman who truly knew how to party. Were she to be transported two millennia into the future, she would have felt at home among the strong-willed, boundary destroying, flamboyant flappers of the 1920s, and perhaps have enjoyed dancing along to her eponymous 1917 tune Cleopatra Had a Jazz Band.

Five years before Howard Carter made the sensational discovery of the treasure-filled tomb of Tutankhamun, Cleopatra’s ‘Jazz Band’ in her castle on the Nile was winning over Mark Anthony with her syncopated harmony. But such wild imaginings of the early jazz age may not have happened, were it not for another outsized historical character: Napoleon Bonaparte. In 1798, Napoleon led a

“The treasures of Tutankhamun’s tomb – “gold, everywhere the glint of gold”—defied description, while the New York Times reported: “There are no figures that can estimate it. There are few minds that can conceive it.” But that didn’t stop everyone from trying to capitalize on it”

French force to oust the Mamlukes from Egypt, nominally in support of the Turkish sultan (whom, needless to say, Bonaparte did not fully inform); remarkably, he had the great foresight to bring along an army of savants to record the remarkable monuments they were sure to encounter. The French may have won the Battle of the Pyramids, but at the Battle of the Nile just eleven days later, British Rear-Admiral Horatio Nelson’s squadron blew the French literally out of the water (only four of their 17 ships escaped), thereby inadvertently guaranteeing that the Rosetta Stone would grace the British Museum rather than the Louvre.

Napoleon promptly returned to France, but his army fought on, with the savants pursuing the work of recording the temples, tombs and wealth of objects. Napoleon may have lost the war, but the publication of the monumental Description de l’Égypte granted him the status of honorary founder of Egyptology as a scientific field of inquiry. The monumental Description de l’Égypte and the travel volumes of Vivant Denon, one of the savants, became the design manuals of the Egyptian craze that subsequently struck France and England, and quickly crossed the Atlantic.

The richness of Egyptian Revival art and architecture during the first half of the 19th century gives us remarkable structures, from the American capitol’s Washington Monument to the Egyptian House in Penzance and the Temple Mill in Leeds. The end of the first half of the nineteenth century, in particular, sees the application of rather successful Egyptian architectural styles to new public spaces, such as cemeteries and zoos – in a time of new outdoor spaces and new political winds, Egypt is older than all, avoiding the associations then attached to Neo-Classical design. The modern appealed to the most ancient, providing an anchor for what might otherwise have been disturbing changes.

The coming of the Victorian age diluted the strength of ancient Egyptian motifs, subsumed in the exuberance of exoticism and the plenitude of revival styles during the second half of the nineteenth century. Yet in furniture and fashion, glimmers of ancient Egypt survive, such as the restored music room in the Armour-Stiner Octagon House (Irvington, New York), the opening of the Suez Canal helping such Egyptian Revival styles bridge the gap between the Napoleonic Era’s fascination with Egypt and the new exuberance that would burst forth in the 1910s and 1920s. As spectacular archaeological discoveries were made in Egypt at the end of the nineteenth century and during the first two decades of the twentieth century, ladies of the Edwardian era might add a sphinx broach here or a scarab ornament there, while gentlemen could sport pharaoh’s head cuff-links (like John’s pair, from the fine Salem, Massachusetts establishment of Diel Marcus & Co.).

A sign that ancient Egypt was again on the ascendant was the opening of Grauman’s Egyptian Theater in Los Angeles in the fall of 1922 – just before Howard Carter announced the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb. The treasures of the tomb – “gold, everywhere the glint of gold” – defied description, the headline of a February 18, 1923 article in the New York Times claimed the treasures were “Beyond Reckoning,” while the story reported: “There are no figures that can estimate it. There are few minds that can conceive it.” But that didn’t stop everyone from trying to capitalize on it.

By March 1923, the pharaoh had his own song, Old King Tut, with its own delightful chronological syncopation: “Cleopatra sat upon his knee, that’s where she sat!” (actually, an eighteen-year-old Tutankhamun died a thousand years before the queen). Jewellery and dress designers turned the full-page photographs in newspapers into everything from Egyptianizing kitsch to Cartier pieces sparkling with diamonds. From inexpensive cookie tins and ‘Tut Lemons’ to perfume bottles, compact cases, and cigarettes (lots of cigarettes), ancient Egypt was all the rage.

“In furniture and fashion, glimmers of ancient Egypt survive, such as the restored music room in the Armour-Stiner Octagon House. By 1923 the pharaoh had his own song, ‘Old King Tut’, with is own delightful chronological syncopation”

To some extent, cosmetics were harbingers of the trend. Palmolive company ads touted Egyptian origins for their products, linking new personal care items to ancient Egypt. This tendency to sell concoctions on the basis of an ‘already the ancient Egyptians …’ pitch is well known from the Graeco-Roman world, and even some ancient Egyptian medical recipes claim an even more ancient origin for themselves.

Flappers were quick to adopt the Nile style, and the bobbed haircuts and dropped waist dresses were at once ancient and modern. Trends in coiffure and clothing design already in process suddenly found Egyptian templates. Wild and ‘boyish’ flappers would not appear so terrifying if they were seen as the aesthetic descendants of the ancient Egyptians.

Some designs are remarkably successful, while others rely on vague associations of colour – gold and lapis blue, for instance. Most designs that employ hieroglyphs do so with only a vague nod to the actual signs and texts themselves, but some pieces (like the green silk and velvet cape or the orange fringe dress ornament (right) that Colleen wears in the Armour-Stiner House) successfully use images that the ancient Egyptians themselves would recognize. At the same time, more modern Egyptian tulle bi telli – metallic augmented net-like fabric – was adopted into the global fashion repertoire. Flappers and pharaohs certainly made good bedfellows. n

“Flappers were quick to adopt the Nile style, and the bobbed haircuts and dropped waist dresses were at once ancient and modern. Trends in coiffure and clothing design already in process suddenly found Egyptian templates. Wild and ‘boyish’ flappers would not appear so terrifying if they were the aesthetic descendants of the ancient Egyptians”