Day 32 - Procession of women celebrating
March 15, 2018
My Egyptian peregrinations have finally brought me to the Temple of Dendur (gallery 131). My eyes tear up a bit as I think how extraordinarily lucky I am to live here in New York City with all its treasures, of which this is indisputably one. I must say that the architects of the Sackler Wing (Roche, Dinkeloo, and Associates) did the city, the Met, and the temple proud in designing this space, so large and light-filled. The large wall of windows slants inward, calling to mind the pyramids. And the placement of the temple on a platform above a rectangular reflecting pool really does evoke the temple's original setting on raised terrain overlooking the Nile. The space is also a wonderful gathering spot for people of all ages, in part because -- a rarity at the Met -- there's plenty of seating.
It's a bit odd to note that the temple, which dates from about 10 B.C.E., is the "newest" thing I've seen at the Met since I began this journey. In fact, the ruler depicted in the temple's reliefs as making the offerings to the gods is Augustus. But this feels appropriate to me, since my explorations will, in just a couple of weeks or so, take me into the classical galleries. It's also a reminder that the Romans freely incorporated the culture--and the gods -- of the peoples they conquered.
While the temple is relatively recent, the space itself houses artifacts feom many different periods, and the image I want to write about is a small fragment of a painted relief from Akhenaten's temple at Amarna, from about 1350-1335 B.C. E. It shows six figures, maybe 4 inches high, in a row. They are in profile, stepping forward. Three aooear to be women (one much smaller than the others) and two men. (The lead figure is cut off, so its gender is hard to determine,) Their bodies are cartoon-like, their eyes, noses, and mouths barely indicated, but their positions are vivid: Their arms are thrown in the air, suggesting ecstatic worship. Two women hold what appear to be tambourines. At the rear of the procession, a man who is more stooped also lifts his hands. The caption notes that he is a temple sweeper and has leaned his broom against his body to lift his hands in adoration.
I haven't thought much abiut the role of music in Egyptian worship, but this relief suggests that it was integral and lent joy to the occasion. Given the role of music in my own life, this feels like yet another way in which the ancient Egyptians were "mes semblables, mes freres."
It's a bit odd to note that the temple, which dates from about 10 B.C.E., is the "newest" thing I've seen at the Met since I began this journey. In fact, the ruler depicted in the temple's reliefs as making the offerings to the gods is Augustus. But this feels appropriate to me, since my explorations will, in just a couple of weeks or so, take me into the classical galleries. It's also a reminder that the Romans freely incorporated the culture--and the gods -- of the peoples they conquered.
While the temple is relatively recent, the space itself houses artifacts feom many different periods, and the image I want to write about is a small fragment of a painted relief from Akhenaten's temple at Amarna, from about 1350-1335 B.C. E. It shows six figures, maybe 4 inches high, in a row. They are in profile, stepping forward. Three aooear to be women (one much smaller than the others) and two men. (The lead figure is cut off, so its gender is hard to determine,) Their bodies are cartoon-like, their eyes, noses, and mouths barely indicated, but their positions are vivid: Their arms are thrown in the air, suggesting ecstatic worship. Two women hold what appear to be tambourines. At the rear of the procession, a man who is more stooped also lifts his hands. The caption notes that he is a temple sweeper and has leaned his broom against his body to lift his hands in adoration.
I haven't thought much abiut the role of music in Egyptian worship, but this relief suggests that it was integral and lent joy to the occasion. Given the role of music in my own life, this feels like yet another way in which the ancient Egyptians were "mes semblables, mes freres."
later
Oh dear, I just realized that the first words of the Baudelaire are "hypocrite lecteur" -- not what I wanted to convey at all!
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