Anneli Xie
Prof. Kimberly Cassibry
ARTH 100: Art and its Histories
2018/03/07
Prof. Kimberly Cassibry
ARTH 100: Art and its Histories
2018/03/07
The Unrecognized Influence of the Gandharan Bodhisattva:
an exploration of the colonialist narratives of the Davis Museum, Wellesley, MA
an exploration of the colonialist narratives of the Davis Museum, Wellesley, MA
The Davis Museum in Wellesley, Massachusetts, is one of the oldest fine art museums in the United States, with an impressive collection of some 11,000 artworks and artifacts acquired since its establishment in 1889. With collections from each continent of the world, visitors can marvel at art from a diversity of times and cultures as they move through the building. What is not explicitly presented to them, however, is the history of these artworks’ acquisition and the politics of their curation, both of which are integral to the museum experience. In her essay “The Art Museum as a Ritual”, Carol Duncan describes museums as “complex totalities that include everything from the building to the selection and ordering of collections.” Duncan further discusses that the common dichotomy in museums is “Western [cultures] on top as producers of art and non-Western ones below as producers of artifacts”, (Duncan 1995, 12) matching the layout of the Davis. Ordering their collections across three levels (L2, L4, and L5), the visitor moves through the building in a chronological account of history, starting at the bottom level with the ancient collections (L2) and ending up at the top (L5), with the modern ones. Each level is also further organized in a geographical manner. The division of time in curation is important as it aids interpretation of an object, attributing it to be either artifact or artwork, where the notion of an artifact has been given away to be seen through a more historical and anthropological lens and the impression of an artwork is more refined and philosophical, opening up the gaze to art historical analysis. (Duncan 1995, 11) Looking at the Davis as a totality, the Davis narrates a story of Western superiority, hiding behind the Western notion of linear time. L2 consists of ancient collections from the Eastern continents and Africa, whereas, moving up a floor, the art from the 12th to 19th century displayed on L4 are of only European and American descent, ignoring all representation of non-Western art from the same period of time. Organized this way, the Davis is furthering the narrative of art from the East being historical and ancient artifacts, whereas Western art receives the label of being artworks; a progression that becomes literal as the visitor advances within not only the historical narrative of the museum, but also its physical space. Furthermore, with many of the objects in the Davis having been acquired in illegal trade or taken during colonialism-influenced excavations across the world, the museum as a totality needs to be careful to feed neither the narrative of illegal arts trade nor Western colonialism – something it currently fails to do. This essay will explore these claims by looking at two Bodhisattva heads on display and through the application of formal analysis investigate how the Davis has failed to recognize their art historical importance while retaining a colonialist narrative in display.
Carved in stucco and still carrying some color pigment, the Bodhisattva heads were once part of the Kushan dynasty, created sometime between the 3rd and the 5th century C.E. in the kingdom of Gandhara. The heads, arriving at the Davis in 1931 as a bequest from Wellesley alumna Clara Botwin, were originally acquired by the French Minister of Cultural Affairs whom also collected Buddha heads, André Malraux. Whereas the wall label reveals that the two heads were originally obtained by Malraux in an “excavation [...] in northwest Pakistan,” little is known about their exact origin or in what context they used to be displayed. The wall label also fails to tell the story of Malraux’s reputation of “getting “loot” out of a country surreptitiously,” (Avery 1935) as stated by Davis’ museum director at the time of their arrival, hinting at the unlawfulness of Malraux’s quests. Although Malraux himself claimed to have obtained all his objects through lawful excavations in Asia, Gregory P.A. Levine’s essay “Malraux’s Buddha Heads” further reveals that Malraux’s pursuits were often “a meaningful mélange of fact and fiction.” (Levine 2011, 636) With this information, we can thus speculate that the Bodhisattva heads were stolen and brought out of Gandhara illegally – a story the Davis does not reveal to their visitors. By putting the items on display without this information, however, the Davis becomes complicit in perpetuating the colonialist narratives of Malraux’s initial acquisition of the sculptures.
Placed as part of the Davis’ South Asian Collection on L2, the heads are situated in-between the East Asian and Ancient Mediterranean Collections, just as the area of Gandhara geographically transitions between the two. Although their placement enables viewers to connect the heads in relation to both ancient Greco-Roman and East Asian art, it also makes them seem merely transitionary – even though the region of Gandhara was very important, being an affluent region of trade and playing an instrumental role in the spread of Buddhism. Despite this, the Davis has chosen to emphasize the Buddhism that later flourished in East Asia, seen in the display of the East Asian Buddhist artifacts on the opposite wall of the South Asian collection. These artifacts, rather than being mounted in free air, like the Gandharan Bodhisattvas, are protected by a glass box, signifying their importance. The overshadowing by East Asia can also be seen in a map on display next to the glassed-in artifacts, in which East Asia is being centered and Gandhara pushed aside. Similarly, the choice of displaying Greco-Roman art in close proximity to the Bodhisattvas is political, as Gandhara was conquered by Alexander the Great in 330 B.C.E and became part of the Hellenistic empire. (Behrendt 2012) With Alexander’s conquest also followed a heavy influence of the Ancient Greek upon Gandharan art, which prompted anthropomorphic representations of Buddhism by influence of classical Greek sculptures depicting Greek Gods. Whereas Buddhist art was previously aniconic, some of the earliest corporal portrayals of Buddha and Bodhisattva (in Gandharan art, the Bodhisattva often referes to the previous life of Gautama Buddha as Prince Siddharta) originate in Gandhara, possibly due to the idea of having a bodily representation of the figure of worship. (Metropolitan Museum of Art 2012) However, although influences can surely be seen, the Kushan empire was a cultural center and producer of art long before the invasion of Alexander the Great, marked under the rule of Kanishka (c. 127-150 CE) to have “great wealth marked by extensive mercantile activities, and a flourishing of urban life.” (Metropolitan Museum of Art 2012) Displaying the Gandharan artworks as ‘in-between’ the East Asian Buddhism and the classical Mediterranean art, both in a physical but also conceptual sense, makes the Davis fail in recognizing Gandhara as its own, even though the region has good reason to be admired independently.
Sculpted in a naturalistic manner, as was typical for the classical style, the dimensions of the Bodhisattva heads are a little less than ¾ the size of an average human head, with one being 19.4 cm x 16.5 cm, and the other one being 22.2 cm x 12.7 cm. Clearly broken off from the rest of their bodies, as marked by the jagged neckline, the Bodhisattva heads are mounted against the white museum wall in eye-level with the viewer, offering an intimate encounter and great potential for detailed analysis. Enclosed in a volumetric oval shape, the facial features of the Bodhisattvas are proportional to the human face, with fleshy cheeks, rounded eyebrows, prominent delineated eyes and eyelids, and a straight nose with gently carved out nostrils, all working together to emphasize the realism of the sculptures, evocative of their Greek influences. The hair, too, is reminiscent of classical sculptures, with sinuous lines carved to construct luscious curls. Covering the hair, both Bodhisattvas carry turbans patterned by carvings in the stucco: princely attire symbolizing Gautama Buddha’s previous life of luxury and excess as prince Siddhartha. Similarly, the Bodhisattva faces transition softly from chin into neck through a soft and undefined jawline, with red lines painted on the neck to convey fat creases, also signifying wealth. In-between the eyebrows, a dotted red pigment preserved on the stucco shows evidence of an urna, placed on Buddhist images to symbolize the third eye and it’s vision into the divine world; a representation of the Bodhisattva having acquired some form of enlightenment. (Conze 2007, 37) The mouth of the Bodhisattva argue otherwise, however, with mustache-like facial hair painted with black pigment and lips showing little expression – possibly a representation of the Bodhisattva not yet having reached full liberation (Nirvana). A side-view reveals the remainder of the only disproportionate facial feature of both Bodhisattvas: their unnaturally large earlobes – with only one out of four earlobes having survived through time, stretching all the way down to the chin. The elongated earlobe serves to represent the heavy jewelry borne by the Gautama Buddha in his previous life as Prince Siddhartha, and the fleshy cheeks, fat creases, facial hair, luscious curls, and turbans, all work together to further signify excess, becoming distinctive characteristics in distinguishing the Bodhisattva from the total liberation of the Buddha.
Drawing on formal analysis, we can from looking at the sculptures dimensions, realistic style, and material, attempt to place them into more context. From the naturalism of their style, we can speculate that the bodies the Bodhisattvas once belonged to would be proportional to their heads and that the full sculpture would therefore be slightly smaller than a real human. The material is also revealing, as early Buddhist imagery was often created in schist, but has now been replaced by the more malleable material of stucco. The use of stucco increased in popularity as Buddhism surged in Gandhara, possibly to accelerate the creation of Buddhist relics to accompany the rapid rise of Buddhist centers, such as stupas, across the region. Keeping this in mind, we can thus speculate that the Bodhisattva heads were once part of the relics of a stupa, which “served the local population and were vital centers of pilgrimage” for Buddhists and thus had great importance in the spread and patronage of the religion. (Behrendt 2012)
Receiving a notion of being merely artifacts, the narrative of the Bodhisattva heads conveyed by the Davis does not match up to their actual art historical importance – something formal analysis reveals by enabling an attempt of contextualizing the artworks. Because of Gandharas role in creating the first corporal representation of Buddha and Bodhisattva, the heads on display in the Davis are very important as they helped shape the anthropomorphic vision of Buddha we have today, and ironically enough, the boxed-in Buddhist imagery found in the East Asian collection ought to be traced back to Gandhara. However, instead of encouraging the art historical analysis that is appropriate to further this narrative, the Davis as a totality has instead deprived the sculptures of art historical value by organizing their collections in a Western timeline, with progress in time also being associated with moving West. This narrative is further perpetuated by the compliance of colonialism and not conveying the controversial history of the acquisition of the Bodhisattva heads. In his quest for Buddha heads, Malraux said: “The fragments of the past [...] are neither happily inspired “patches,” nor striking arrangements of “volumes”; they are heads,” (Levine 2011, 636) and whereas the Davis has chosen to continue this narrative, we as visitors need to be careful not to. Instead, we should appreciate the Bodhisattva heads for what they truly are – not just artifactual heads, but beautiful artworksthat reveal the currently overshadowed history of the Kushan dynasty and the global importance of Gandharan art.
References
Bushby, KM; Cole, T; Matthews, JN; “Centiles for adult head circumference”. Arc. Dis. Child., Vol. 67 (Oct., 1992): 1286-7
Conze, Edward. Buddhism: Its Essence and Development. London: One World Publications, 2007.
Duncan, Carol. “The Art Museum as Ritual.” (The Problematics of Collecting and Display, Part I), The Art Bulletin 77, no.1 (Mar., 1995): 10-13.
Department of Asian Art. “Kushan Empire (ca. Second Century B.C.–Third Century A.D.).” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. Last modified October, 2000. Accessed February 28, 2018. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/kush/hd_kush.htm
Levine, Gregory. “Malraux’s Buddha Heads”. In A Companion to Asian Art and Architecture, edited by Rebecca M. Brown and Deborah S. Hutton. 629-654. West Sussex: Blackwell Publishing, 2011.