I’m
pleased by Jeremy Corbyn’s announcement that he supports the reunification of
the Parthenon Marbles in their rightful Athenian home. I vote Labour but I’m
also a proud member of the British
Committee for the Reunification of the Parthenon Marbles, and have
blogged about this issue before.
I’ve
been saddened by the gushing responses across press and media to the current Rodin and the Art of Ancient Greece
exhibition at the British Museum. Few
journalists have seen the cynical motives underlying the jamboree.
Suspicions
that opinion-management was at work should have been aroused by the mounting pressure
on museums worldwide to acknowledge the colonial rapine involved in
amassing their collections. Even louder alarm bells should have been rung by
the identity of the financial sponsor, Bank of America Merrill Lynch. BAML has
its own desperate PR offensive at the moment—a bid to mend its ravaged reputation
only weeks after having to hand over $42 million in settlement
for defrauding customers between 2008 and 2013.
The two premises the
Museum’s spin doctors ask its viewers to accept are contentious: (1) that
without a visit to the British Museum’s amputated fragments of the art of the
Parthenon and Acropolis Rodin might not have become the great sculptor he was
(why couldn’t he have gone to Greece? He visited Italy to study Michelangelo);
(2) that ‘sculpture’ always means freestanding individual works conceived, displayed
and revered as autonomous works of art, like Rodin’s ‘The Kiss’ or ‘The Thinker’.
The category apparently excludes magnificent public monuments like the Parthenon and the other temples of the Acropolis, which combine serial images in different material media aesthetically celebrating an entire community’s aspirations, spirituality and political identity.
The category apparently excludes magnificent public monuments like the Parthenon and the other temples of the Acropolis, which combine serial images in different material media aesthetically celebrating an entire community’s aspirations, spirituality and political identity.
Cast from Rodin's Design for Gates of Hell at Stanford Uni |
Alas
poor Rodin—I am sure he would have been appalled at such blatant ideological
abuse of his own work, especially given that many of his most famous statues,
including ‘The Kiss’ and ‘The Thinker’, were originally designed as part of a
public monument, ‘The Gates of Hell’, inspired by Dante’s Inferno. They were commissioned by the French State as the portal
to a new museum of the decorative arts which was in the event never built.
"Fallen Caryatid Carrying her Stone" |
My
own favourite Rodin sculpture is his ‘Fallen Caryatid Carrying her Stone’,
originally designed for the top of the left pilaster of ‘The Gates of Hell’. I
like to think that that the shocking sense of deracination and lapsarian despair she
induces in the viewer was Rodin’s response to the miserable isolation of the
solitary Caryatid from the Athenian Erechtheion stranded in London’s British
Museum.
She's two thousand miles away from her sisters in the
Acropolis Museum, named the The Best Museum of the World in a 2010 British poll.
Let’s look beyond the media hype so expertly
engineered by the Rodin exhibition, and use it instead as an opportunity for a serious
public conversation about allowing her and the rest of the Athenians’
Acropolis sculptures to be reunited at last and seen as part of the Gesamtkunstwerk for which Pheidias & Co. originally designed them.
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