Hey all!
Okay, okay – I am still brooding, I mean, being curious about exploring the issue of “based on a true story” and how that spins out into narratives that can seem “true” even when not based on fact.
Last article, we explored how this can work on a personal level, which is, of course, how dreams work with us.
This time, I have been thinking about the larger cultural implications and possibilities. In part, because I recently went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and became a little obsessed with some ancient figures I found displayed there.
As you may know, most of the images I use here in my articles come from the Met. They have an online archive of artwork, including work that is in the public domain and available for use the way I use them.
I have a lot of fun searching for images that match my writing, careful to use only what is in the public domain. Because of this, many of my searches include ancient figures found in ancient times. I particularly love the figures I have discovered in the process – abstract and otherwise. They so speak to me in so many ways. Like this one:
(ca. 1000–300 BCE)
Anyway, I came across some figures in the online collection and, last time I was in NYC to see Sam, I went to The Met to see them in person.
One of the things I struggle with when viewing art is the line between what I am told about the art, understanding some of the history of the art and my own responses.
Knowing historical facts can absolutely deepen our understanding of a piece or an era of art. I have written about this before using the example of Monet’s paintings in his garden. How many of these paintings were done in response to the horrors of trench war in WWI. [Go here to read that article.]
But I also kinda hate when the placards next to a piece tell me what the piece means. Ugh. So much. I try to be with art that draws and inspires me on an emotional and spiritual level and just let myself have the experience. Before I do any research.
So, back to my recent visit and my excitement in seeing the figures.
The figures are included in pieces called “Early Cycladic Figures” and have been dated from around 5300 to 2000 BCE. They were created on Greek islands that encircle the island Deios.
The figures are mostly made of white marble and there are loads of them. They were probably painted and repainted, but most of the paint and color are lost. Here’s one of the “older” one – so amazing and intriguing:
Right?
So, I go to the museum, locate the exhibit on the first floor [just to the left when you walk in] and am immediately surrounded by so many of the figures. Big and small. There is even another whole exhibit case upstairs.
[And no, we are not going to talk about how the figures were “acquired” and the morals of a US museum having so many of them.]
I was and am so struck by the figures, just amazed, especially being in the presence of them. I realized being with them that “modern” painters were so deeply influenced by these figures – I immediately thought of Amedeo Modigliani and even [ick] Picasso.
I felt so thrilled and moved by the pieces. So many pieces depicting the female body. Why were most of them holding their arms in that way? Looking up? Why were they made? I was having a lovely time just being with them.
Then a museum guide came around with a group and began to talk about them, so I sidled over to have a listen. He spoke about the figures, immediately naming them as fertility figures, his whole talk focused on this theory. When I went back to the cases and looked at the placards, yes, there it was. They were all named fertility figures.
[And yes, the Japanese figure above is also labeled as a “fertility” figure. ]
Sigh.
I, of course, went and read some of the catalogue where the authors circle around and around about why they think the figures are fertility figures.
But, really, I think this is another example of “based on a true story” on an historical scope.
A great deal of the history of archeology is plagued by these kinds of assumptions. There is a somewhat recent discovery where a Viking figure found in a burial site that was assumed to be a man is actually now correctly identified as a woman [through DNA testing]. Guess why they assumed for years and years that it was a man? Yup, because the figure was buried with warrior gear that denoted a person of high warrior status. [Fun fact: And even when the article came out with the findings, they received a lot of pushback.]
Back to our female figures – yes, there have been female figures found that were likely to be fertility figures. But most of these kinds of figures usually appeared, well, pregnant. Or their genitalia were really put on display.
But most of these Cycladic figures are not pregnant, the gesture of the figure is not an over-emphasis on maternity. And – a small number of the figures are male, in the exact posture.
Yet, when people from the Western culture look at such figures, we find a way to name them something based on our own prejudices and assumptions. About humans that lived a really long time ago.
I mean, I can come up with lots of possibilities about these figures if I take off the patriarchal view of women that still haunts Western culture. I can conjure stories about why the production of such amazing female figures seemed to have abruptly stopped. There are endless possibilities.
But, here, at one of the most important museums of art in the world, is another example of “based on a true story”. We almost can’t not see or overlay what we have been taught about gender and gender roles when looking at something unknown to us from an unknown culture.
Which, of course, just reinforces those terrible cultural beliefs over and over as “true”. Because it squeezes the unknown into our known and often very narrow understanding. Leaves no room for curiosity. Not real curiosity.
For me, I have no idea. I am not an archeologist or a historian of Ancient Ancient Ancient Greek Island cultures. But I do feel these figures. I do feel my curiosity. I do let myself be in wonder and tenderness at the way the figures hold themselves and gaze upward. I do feel and let that gesture resonate in me. Without the need for a narrative “based on a true story.”
Here’s one more. I am so touched by the hands on this one:
