Century-Old Vandalism of Islamic Art, and Its Price

The late Mr. Welch, who studied neither Persian nor Arabic, used to say that it is not necessary to know the languages to look at the paintings. To look perhaps, but to see, and to understand their meaning, it is.

Had he mastered a reading knowledge of Persian, the American collector might have realized how intricate the connection is between the image and the written word.

It exists even at an elementary level. The proportions of book painting in the 15th and 16th century are calculated according to set numbers. These are based on a modular unit that is the diagonal of the small square serving as a dot in certain letters of the Arabic alphabet.

Paintings in asymmetrical geometrical frames are matched on the facing page by a corresponding arrangement of the columns of text. Taking away one side destroys the balance of the double page. Moreover, the characters featured in any given scene are placed in relationship to certain lines of text.

Detached from their volume and framed as “Persian miniatures,” book paintings are reduced to an arbitrary construct suiting the desire of collectors unaware of the nature of the art.

The artificial construct fits into the overall reinvention of the Eastern world by the West.

Lumping together under a single denomination the infinitely diverse artistic expressions of the “Islamic World” is as inept as talking about Christian art from 8th-century Carolingian manuscripts to 18th-century French porcelain.

The misapprehension of historical reality that goes together with this reinvention can take a comical turn.

In the Welch sale, an early 13th-century cauldron signed in Persian by Abu Bakr Ebn-e Ahmad-e Marvazi was labeled “probably” from Daghestan. The qualifier Marvazi, “from Marv,” a Khorasani city in present-day Turkmenistan, points to a Khorasan connection of sorts. When taken in conjunction with other signatures that include qualifiers also formed on Khorasan city names and with the typically Khorasani motifs, this makes it clear that the pot originated in this eastern Iranian province. That some cauldrons signed by Marvazi surfaced in Daghestan merely reminds us that objects travel. Others have been dug up in Iran. The cauldron brought an extravagant £70,850. Ironically a rarer cauldron, truly from Daghestan as its shape and figural motifs show, only cost £26,250.

The lack of familiarity with the culture behind the art leads to misattributions. In Christie’s April 7 sale, the portrait of a lady attributed to “Safavid Iran, circa mid-17th century” was unlikely to be Iranian. The costume is not. That led the cataloger to speculate: “She may be a Turk.” But the tunic with its wide open collar is not Turkish either.

The Christie’s portrait falls within a broad class of portraits painted in oil on canvas in which a few details belie any “Islamic” connection — most blatantly a roast piglet depicted in one picture. Costume details make Georgia in the Caucasus a likely candidate.