365 Days at the Met

July 29, 2019 When I look at a map of the museum at home,  I'm disconcerted to learn that there are 55 galleries devoted to my next area of inquiry,  European Sculpture and Decorative Arts. Oh God, I think, I'll never get out of here.  So it comes as a relief to discover that Gallery 500, the first of these galleries, is devoted to the art of the early Italian Renaissance. The general familiarity of the works on display is comforting. The first object I see is a large semicircular blue and white terracotta of a winged figure holding a sword. "Saint Michael," I immediately think (no dragon in sight to suggest Saint George), and "della Robbia" (Andrea, in this case).  I realize this is pretty basic, but it's nice to be right on both counts. There are round reliefs with the profiles of leaders classical (Caesar) and contemporary (Francesco Sforza),  and one of a Genoese diplomat I've never heard of, with the impressive name Accellino di Megliadu

I'm not a complete newcomer to Islamic art, so perhaps my experience in these galleries is less revelatory than it might be to someone else. I expected to be impressed by the multiplicity and complexity and harmony of the various designs - the way in which geometric and floral forms work together - and I was. But three aspects of the works on display have especially caught my attention. First, they speak to the enormous expanse in time and geography  - and the wealth - of the Islamic world. I suppose the same might be said of the works in the Chinese galleries and the Medieval galleries. But when you see objects that come from Spain and Morocco and Syria and Turkey and Iran and Turkmenistan, that reality hits home. Second, the galleries make me realize how little I know about the history of these countries. And if I know so little, most Americans, I dare say, know even less.  Given the importance of this area to world peace, this ignorance is really shameful. Finally, althoug

July 22, 2019 I must say that Gallery 464, the last of the Islamic galleries, feels somewhat anticlimactic. The gallery  focuses on the arts - painting, metalwork, glasswork - of what are now India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh between 1500 and 1900. Its relationship to the other Islamic galleries seems less than straightforward: Many but by no means all of the objects come from areas with Muslim rulers, and many of the paintings in the gallery portray scenes associated with Hindu gods and heroes. To me, this gallery could fit just as well - maybe better - with the Met's other South Asian galleries. But I do respond to this painting, done in opaque watercolor, ink, and gold on paper,  entitled "Maharana Sarup Singh Inspects a Prize Stallion." Measuring perhaps 24" X 20," it was painted by a painter named Tara in Udaipur in 1845-1846. I especially like the elaborate woven ground cloth on which the  maharana sits on a raised divan surrounded by his entoura

July 18 , 2019 I walk into Gallery 463 and see the carpet of my dreams. But it is so large (perhaps 30 or 35 feet long and 12 feet wide) that I would have to build the house of my dreams to accommodate it! Made in Lahore in the mid-17th century, with a cotton warp and weft and a wool pile, its pattern consists of flowers, "sunbursts," and serrated leaves that twine their way along the ground. The forms on the field are "right-sized"; there is no sense of overcrowding. And while the ground is a rich red, the ivory, dark blue, turquoise, coral, and tan shades of the flowers and other designs mute and mellow the brightness. (At least, these are the colors as they appear to me in the dimmed light; I am not sure the photo captures the true colors.)  Interestingly, the border of the rug is more intricately patterned than its field. I could live with this carpet forever. The gallery as a whole is devoted to the arts of the Mughals and other Muslim rulers in Indi

July 15, 2019 Gallery 462 is a very large room dedicated to the art of Iran from the 16th to the 19th century. It is a reminder of Iran's long and rich culture that seems especially important to recall at this time of bellicose rhetoric on the part of both Iran and the U.S.A.  I hear a woman with a British accent say to her companion, "Why would they [the Iranians] want to negotiate with that vulgar man, Trump?" Perhaps that is simplistic, but it gives pause. The room has many huge and elaborate carpets, along with brass objects and paintings, and one of the latter is today's object. It's a painting from the Shahnama of Shah Tahmasp, which a placard describes as "arguably the most luxuriously illustrated manuscript of Firdusi's epic ever produced." The work was created at the royal atelier in Tabriz and was presented to the Shah in 1568; the project involved the most outstanding painters of the time. The Met is fortunate to own 78 of the 2

July 12, 2019 Gallery 461 is something of a hidden treasure: the reception room of a large house in Damascus built in 1707. In its size (perhaps 30' X 50' in area and 30 ' high) and its luxurious appointments, it epitomizes wealth and taste. Unfortunately, a low glass gate at the entrance makes  it impossible to enter and inspect paticular objects closely. But here, the whole is certainly greater than its parts. At the front of the space is what I assume was a small courtyard. It consists of a mable floor inlaid with geometric designs - rectangles, triangles, semi-circles, rhombuses, squares, and six-pointed stars - at the center of which is a low fountain, also of marble, that emits a soothing gurgling sound. (Is this the actual sound of the water, I wonder, or a recording?) The floor of the room proper  is a raised platform made of wood with marble inlays that form nine large squares, within which are smaller squares further inlaid with gometic designs. At the ba

July 11, 2019 I peeked into Gallery 460 on my last visit and smiled in anticipation  of looking at its many Iznik ceramics, which I like so much.  I am indeed happy to have visited the gallery, but also struck by how much more varied these ceramics are than I had imagined. Three examples illustrate this. The first is a ewer dating from the 16th century. About 12 inches high and graceful in form, it has what I have thought of as the standard palette of Iznik wares: jewel tones of red, cobalt blue, and green on a white ground, all covered with a transparent glaze. Its design of tulips, roses, carnations, and swirling leaves is also what I think of as conventional.  The second example is a dish, perhaps 20 inches in diameter, made around 1580-85. The label describes it as having a "kaleidoscope design," a term that strikes me as odd but apt. Its highly symmetrical design seems to me abstract, although, with its central rosette, it also seems to assimilate flor

July 4, 2019 Gallery 459 contains 12 examples of carpets, mostly made in the 19th century,  ranging from relatively small prayer rugs to an enormous carpet from the Caucasus that would be suitable for any boardroom or for the main room of the Harvard Club. I like many of the carpets but by no means all of them, and the exhibit really makes me think about the elements of design to which I'm responding. One is almost certainly simplicity vs. complexity, and here I think I most like a "golden mean" - neither an overcrowded field nor one that seems too empty. Another is color: I like the lighter-colored  carpets more than the darker ones. The former give me room to breathe; the latter feel suffocating. I thought I'd break form today and write about my most and least favorite pieces. Both are, somewhat to my surprise, called "Ghirlandaio carpets" because examples of them are found in some paintings by that artist. (Interesting to bear in mind  that Tur

July 2, 2019 Gallery 458 is home to a special exhibition devoted to Islamic calligraphy that proves unexpectedly fascinating; I realize that one could spend a lifetime studying this subject (and people do). The introductory signage reinforces the importance of calligraphy for both spiritual and decorative ends. The Qu'ran in its written form was regarded as the literal word of God, and this imparted an aura of the sacred to all forms of writing. At the same time, writing was incorporated as a design element into architecture and objects in a variety of media. Over time,  I learn,  Islamic calligraphy has assumed a multiplicity of forms, sometimes revealing a tension between transparency of meaning and decorative potential. At the outset, Qu'rans were generally written on parchment in a thick, angular form known as kufic, without diacritical marks. They offered few aids to pronunciation but served instead as memory aids for oral recitation.With the introduction of paper

July 1, 2019 Gallery 457 is devoted to the arts of Muslim Spain, Sicily, and North Africa.  I'm reminded of the important role that Muslim craftsmen played in Norman Sicily.  I learn, too, that Cordoba rivaled Baghdad and Cairo as a center of culture. It was a center of book production, not just of the Qu'ran but also of books in Hebrew. I'm particularly intrigued by a book dating to sometime in the 13th through 15th century called the Sefer Musre Hafilosofim (Book of the Morals of Philosophers), an anthology of the writings oif Greek philosophers that Muslim scholars assiduously compiled and translated into Arabic and that was then translated into Hebrew.   If Gallery 456 whetted my appetite for sightseeing in Morocco, today's object has  whetted my appetite for shopping! It's an embroidered textile panel, perhaps 10 feet tall and 3 feet wide, made around 1800 in Chefchaouen, a city we will be visiting.   Elaborately embroidered in rich shades of blue, r