A cura di Taras66
Pubblicato il 17/03/2008
In questi giorni il giornale online di Seattle, STRANGER, ha dato la notizia che a Seattle si è aperta una mostra di arte romana basata su molte sculture provenienti dal museo del Louvre di Parigi. Per la precisione buona parte delle sculture non erano mai state mosse dal museo prima d'ora. L'articolo dello STRANGER presenta anche dei particolari alquanto sorprendenti, perché inaspettati e non rientranti nelle consuetudini degli scambi fra musei: il Louvre avrebbe concordato un prezzo per questo prestito. In sostanza si tratterebbe di un vero prezzo per l'affitto delle opere d'arte. Mai visto nulla di simile prima d'ora. La domanda è d'obbligo: il Louvre è in crisi?
La notizia diffusa dal giornale online di SEATTLE, Stranger, non avrebbe nulla di straordinario se non fosse per alcuni dettagli che hanno dello sbalorditivo. Inviare oltreoceano opere d'arte per mostre è un fatto consueto, e non presenta affatto problemi anche dal punto di vista della sicurezza delle opere in viaggio. Come giudicare dunque l'annotazione "The Louvre put it on the road in order to raise money" ( Il Louvre ha posto il blocco in viaggio per fare cassa), soprattutto tenendo conto del commento precedente "The latest blockbuster at Seattle Art Museum is an anomaly: 50 tons of Roman art from the Louvre, much of which has never before been moved from its final resting place in Paris" (Il recentissimo colpo-grosso del Seattle Art Museum è un'anomalia: 50 tonnellate di opere d'arte Romana proveniente dal Louvre, molte delle quali mai mosse dalla loro sede finale di Parigi).
Dunque si deve pensare che il Louvre sia in crisi, se, a quanto ci è dato capire, c'è stato un vero e proprio contratto di afftitto delle opere concesse in prestito per la mostra? Se la cosa fosse vera, sarebbe la prima volta che un museo di quella portata si presta ad un contratto di questo tipo. E' pur vero che il Louvre ha dei costi di gestione molto elevati, ma ricorrere all'affitto delle opere d'arte sembra un mezzo alquanto meschino o rozzo per mantenersi a galla. Ma ciò che sorprende in questo spostamento di opere d'arte è il gran segreto che ha accompagnato l'operazione, probabilmente avvenuta in varie fasi via cargo aereo. A parte il costo del fitto, ovviamente.
Per informazioni dettagliate sulle opere esposte, durata della mostra (18/03/2008-11/05/2008/). orari e costo dei biglietti di ingresso, cliccare sul link Roman Art from the Louvre .
Comunque è apprezzabile nell'articolo del giornale la presenza di dettagli storici che si riferiscono a vari pezzi che fanno parte del blocco. Si cita infatti l'attività di Napoleone Bonaparte in Italia, nel 1797, che senza tanti complimenti effettuò una vera e propria spoliazione forzata di opere d'arte dai Musei Vaticani. Senza contare le opere carpite al cognato Camillo Borghese che aveva con lui un grosso debito. Molte opere, per fortuna, fecero poi ritorno in Italia e, a questo proposito, ricordo l'intervento del nostro Canova per valutare pezzo per pezzo quanto dovesse essere restituito al nostro paese.
L'articolo, inoltre, riporta vari interessanti dettagli relativi alla mostra e allo schema seguito nella sua organizzazione.
Per esempio ecco cosa si è fatto per presentare in maniera originale e accattivante le immagini di vari imperatori.
"Emperors can be identified by hair alone. Augustus, for instance, wore a fork in the middle of his bangs and two claw-like pinchers to the right, as evidenced in a youthful, larger-than-life official sculpture of him in the show that was stolen from the Vatican Museum and kept in France by treaty agreement. It would have been one of many identical sculptures".
Gli imperatori possono essere identificati soltanto grazie alla capigliatura. Augusto, per esempio, portava una forcina fra le sue frange e due forcine a forma di artiglio sulla destra, come è dimostrato dalla scultura giovanile più grande di quella ufficiale, nell'immagine sottratta al Museo Vaticano e trattenuta in Francia in base ad un accordo. Essa sarebbe una delle tante sculture isìdentiche".
In contrast to architects, artists in the Roman empire were thought of as lowly craftsmen, and sculptures were often made on assembly lines—one guy would make the foot, another the face, and so on, according to University of Washington assistant professor of Roman art Margaret Laird. Only one of the sculptures in the show is signed.
These sculptures weren't intended to be seen as creamy monochromes. They were originally painted, especially to highlight the eyes, the hair, and the clothing. On the head of a young priest in the "Religion" section, you can make out the faint trace of an iris in the right eye.
A differenza degli architetti, gli artisti nell'impero romano erano considerati come modesti artigiani, e le sculture spesso erano eseguite a blocchi: un tizio avrebbe realizzato un piede, un altro il viso, e così via, secondo Margaret Laird, professore assistente di Arte Romano nell'Università di Washington. Soltanto una delle sculture nella mostra porta una indicazione.
Queste sculture non erano destinate ad essere viste con una colorazione monocromatica. Esse in origine erano dipinte, soprattutto per far risaltare gli occhi, la capigliatura e il vestiario. Sul capo di un giovane sacerdote nella sezione "Religione", si possono intravedere le deboli tracce di un iride sull'occhio destro.
Seguono ancora numerosi dettagli sui vari pezzi in mostra. Interessante l'ultimo commento, a chiusura dell'articolo, riguardante le statue e la loro sistemazione in posizione eretta.
Most of these sculptures don't look like fragments because they've been fixed up, whether recently or in the 1700s or 1800s. The boy Nero's head, for instance, is mounted on an alien body. You can see the break in his neck. A marble head of his mother, Agrippina, is missing a nose and a chin. It seems fitting. Nero did, after all, have to try several times before finally killing her.
La maggior parte di queste sculture non danno assolutamente l'idea di frammenti perché esse sono ste fissate in piedi, sia di recente sia nel 1700 o 1800. La testa di Nerone giovane, per esempio, è montata su un corpo estraneo. Si può notare questo distacco sul collo. Una testa marmorea di sua madre Agrippina è priva del naso e del mento. Sembra rabberciata. Nerone, come sappiamo, dovette provare varie volte prima di riuscire ad ucciderla.
Per completezza di informazione mi corre l'obbligo di sottolineare che mi sono limitato a darvi la traduzione dei passi più significativi tratti dall'intero articolo, non l'intero testo inglese.
Some interesting observations/factoids in this item from the Stranger, meant to gloss the Roman Art from the Louvre exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum:
The latest blockbuster at Seattle Art Museum is an anomaly: 50 tons of Roman art from the Louvre, much of which has never before been moved from its final resting place in Paris. The Louvre put it on the road in order to raise money. SAM, which refuses to say how much it paid for the show but is charging a special required fee of $20 as opposed to its suggested-donation general admission of $13, is hoping to draw crowds and to prove its new facility is a home worthy of the gods. There's marble, glass, and gold, divided into rooms separated by theme: Citizenship; Foreigners, Slaves, and Freedmen; The Emperor; Death. It's a terribly restrained, sexless, official view. Here are some keys that unlock it a little:
1. Almost half of what's in the show got to the French capital through Napoleon's sticky hands. Invading Italy in 1797, he grabbed art from the Vatican Museum and leading families, but he didn't need to steal from the best of the private collectors, the Borghese family. Camillo Borghese was in debt and he was Napoleon's brother-in-law, so he sold hundreds of sculptures, reliefs, and busts to Napoleon. (After his fall, some of the stolen art was returned and some kept, in exchange for French works.) The wheeling and dealing of the distant past doesn't open up the Louvre to claims on its collection today: Its Roman art was amassed before the invention of international laws that govern how antiquities are collected.
2. How all this art got to Seattle is a secret, says Anna Hayes, a registrar with the American Federation of Arts, which planned the high-security trip. She can say that it came to the United States in four shipments by cargo plane. She won't say exactly how it moves inside the country (it has been in Indianapolis and will go to Oklahoma City). Augustus may already have been on I-5.
3. According to architect Rem Koolhaas, the Roman empire had an "operating system." Like a franchise, it repeated architectural elements in all its cities: a forum, a coliseum, aqueducts, and two intersecting central roads. You see its corporate branding in the map of Carthage at the show's entrance. The emperors disseminated copies of official portraits of themselves in full-length marble. Portraits of regular people, meanwhile, stood in public in order to demonstrate the right ways to dress and behave as citizens.
4. Emperors can be identified by hair alone. Augustus, for instance, wore a fork in the middle of his bangs and two claw-like pinchers to the right, as evidenced in a youthful, larger-than-life official sculpture of him in the show that was stolen from the Vatican Museum and kept in France by treaty agreement. It would have been one of many identical sculptures. (Women's hair, given its own entire salon-like room in the exhibition, was both elaborate and tightly controlled.)
5. The relationship between the sculptures and the emperors was political and largely fantastical. Augustus made himself look younger while Caligula, who reportedly resembled livestock, made himself beautiful. In the aftermath of Caligula's excesses, Claudius emphasized his advanced age in his sculptural portraits (he was known to fall asleep at meetings).
6. In contrast to architects, artists in the Roman empire were thought of as lowly craftsmen, and sculptures were often made on assembly lines—one guy would make the foot, another the face, and so on, according to University of Washington assistant professor of Roman art Margaret Laird. Only one of the sculptures in the show is signed.
7. These sculptures weren't intended to be seen as creamy monochromes. They were originally painted, especially to highlight the eyes, the hair, and the clothing. On the head of a young priest in the "Religion" section, you can make out the faint trace of an iris in the right eye.
8. Roman religion was, above all, accommodating. It continually had to make room for newly annexed heathens. There were all sorts of gods for all sorts of things, culminating in Mithraism, the final, doomed competitor with Christianity for religious dominance in the empire. No one knows quite what Mithraists practiced (its failure may be attributable to the fact that it was only open to men), but we do know that they met in caves. One relief, discovered in present-day Lebanon and featuring Mithras, his helper animals, the four seasons personified, and the signs of the zodiac, is the epitome of the jumble.
9. Despite the fact that one of the few colored-stone sculptures in the show is a black-marble figure who looks to be of African descent and is labeled as a slave, Roman slavery applied to all races. In addition, it's even possible that this figure—and the small figure next to him, wearing a charm that usually was reserved for citizens—doesn't represent a slave at all, Laird says. The reason is that it's almost impossible to determine who's a slave, as opposed to, say, a worker, in Roman art. They have no definitive identifying marks (like citizens or soldiers do), unless they're wearing the patterns of particular owners.
10. Most of these sculptures don't look like fragments because they've been fixed up, whether recently or in the 1700s or 1800s. The boy Nero's head, for instance, is mounted on an alien body. You can see the break in his neck. A marble head of his mother, Agrippina, is missing a nose and a chin. It seems fitting. Nero did, after all, have to try several times before finally killing her.
David Meadows 13/03/2008