However we judge Lord
Elgin’s original acquisition of the Parthenon sculptures, it’s easy to wonder
whether the Turkish rulers legitimately had the right to allow him to dispose
of these artworks.
David Carrier
Who rightfully owns the
Parthenon marbles? Just over 200 years ago, when Lord Elgin acquired them, the
Ottomans ruled Greece. Installed in the British Museum, London, they are freely
accessible and have had a major influence on generations of artists and scholars.
But Lord Duveen, the art dealer who sponsored the gallery, had them heavily
restored, removing all traces of the original coloring. And the present
display, which includes about half of the temple’s sculptures, is highly
unsatisfactory, for it turns the original program inside out, showing works
meant to be seen high up from a viewpoint which is far too low. Many scholars
and political figures have argued that they should be returned to Athens.
Indeed, the Greek authorities have recently created an installation intended to
accommodate them, arguing that they are a potent portion of the Greek national
heritage. In response, it has been claimed that the classical culture of
antiquity is now universal, and so not the property of any particular nation.
The nimble narrative of
Patricia Vigderman’s The Real Life of the Parthenon (Mad Creek Books, 2018)
traces out this history in a very winning personal account, describing her
travels to Athens, London, and the Getty Villa in Los Angeles, and also to Naples
and Southern Italy. While focusing on the Elgin Marbles, she looks also at
other similar cases involving cultural repatriation. Too smart to come down on
one side of this famously contentious dispute, she offers a subtle dialectical
analysis.
However we judge Lord
Elgin’s original acquisition, it’s easy to wonder whether the Turkish rulers
legitimately had the right to allow him to dispose of these artworks. Perhaps
the most revealing point in Vigderman’s book comes when she asks a Greek
curator for a response to Joan Connelly’s recently published revisionist
history, which argues that the Parthenon sculptures celebrate a scene of
ancient human sacrifice. He balks, for it’s one thing to celebrate ancestors
who were heroic humanists, and quite another to admit that some of their ways
of thinking were not only very distant, but positively unappealing.
The most interesting (and
original) philosophical part of this book comes in Vigderman’s characterization
of the inherent nature of very old artworks. History writing merely
reconstructs the past, which obviously is gone forever, but Greek classical art
is present right here and now. More exactly, in the British Museum you view
venerable artifacts whose physical qualities and function have changed
radically. As she says, the “ghostly survival [of such art] implies not only
the unknown past (and a future when you will not be) but also ongoing
possibility in being alive, just now” (p. 154). But, it is fair to ask, how is
it really possible to speak of the sculptures’ survival when these once sacred
works have been cleaned of their original coloring and moved into a museum?
Often the people who are
appealing for the return of these marbles speak of their importance for the
Greek national identity. But how much relationship, really, is there between
present-day Greece and the pagan antique world celebrated by the Parthenon?
“Ancient monuments,” so Vigderman admits, “hold people together […]” (182). But
that belief surely deserves to be questioned. This Greek cultural identity
includes achievements we greatly admire — the philosophy of Plato, the plays of
Euripides, democracy (for some males), and wonderful visual art. And others we
don’t — slavery is one example. Just as the Parthenon sculptures have changed a
great deal, so too has Greece. Even to use the phrase, ‘the ancient Greeks,’
blurs important distinctions, since the Parthenon sculptures come from an
Athenian monument.
It’s worth supplementing
your reading of this book with a luminous scholarly commentary, which
Vigderman’s analysis draws upon: Joan Breton Connelly’s The Parthenon Enigma: A
new understanding of the West’s most iconic building and the people who made it
(Knopf, 2014). Connelly offers a simpler account of the issues of ownership;
she thinks that the Parthenon marbles should be returned. These sculptures, she
rightly says, “were never meant to be independent movable objects […]” (p.
345); nor, I would add, were they meant to be displayed in an Athenian museum
employing stainless steel mounts, in an installation that Connelly admires.
Here, as is often the case
in art history, appeal to intentions is tricky. What we desire, Vigderman
rightly says, is both closeness with the distant past and experience of
“something uneaten by time, by time that makes the past” (p. 153). It’s surely
obvious that both of these demands cannot be fully satisfied, but museums try
to do the best that they can. I doubt that anyone is willing to add color to
these sculptures, although that would make them look more authentic. The
critical question, then, is what these dilemmas says about legitimate ownership
of the marbles. Once we turn sacred works into art, and remove the original
coloring, why cannot we also move them?
When, starting in the late
18th century, Christian altarpieces were moved into museums, many critics,
museum skeptics, wondered if sacred artifacts could survive being turned into
artworks. Can an altarpiece survive when it becomes a work of art? The Elgin
marbles pose the same question, in more dramatic way, because they come from a
vanished pagan culture. The Real Life of the Parthenon is a great achievement —
a scrupulous presentation of demanding issues that is fun to read. Vigderman’s
philosophical arguments may seem esoteric. And yet, I would not dismiss their
significance. After all, have we not learnt from Plato that critical thinking
is a necessary prelude to ethical action?
The Real Life of the
Parthenon by Patricia Vigderman (2018) is published by Mad Creek Books and is
available from Amazon and other online retailers.
https://hyperallergic.com/454162/patricia-vigderman-the-real-life-of-the-parthenon-mad-creek-books-2018/
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario