Thursday, July 1, 2004

British Museum

Notes Taken at the British Museum

Sakhmet—Leonine Goddess whom the Egyptians regarded as a bringer of destruction to the enemies of the Sun God Re. Temple of Mut—statues at British Museum.
The solar disk surrounds the head of the Goddess, and she clasps the symbol of life in one of her hands.

Nereid Monument—SW Turkey—Combination Greek and Persian style (I took a photo)

ANCIENT INDIA:
As Indo-Aryan populations spread through India, ideas about social stratification—the caste system—became increasingly important. Theoretically, the priests (Brahmanas) and warriors (Kshatriyas) were the dominant groups; lower down the scale were traders and agriculturist (Vaishyas) and labourers (Shudras). Outside this hierarchy of traditional Indian society were the outcasts—menials, tribal groups and foreigners.

Ritual Equipment (Hinduism):
In the sanctum of a Hindu temple, the deity is invoked through acts of ritual; following this, offerings are made and worship takes place. These activities are collectively known as Puja and invariably require the attendance of a priest, or Brahmin, and various items of ritual equipment.
The ritual element may require the recitation of sacred texts accompanied by the ringing of bells. Other actions make the temple residence of the deity in the in the shrine as pleasing as possible and special vessels are provided to hold the water required to keep the image cool and clean. Lighted lamps are offered to the god; some are permanently suspended in the shrine, while others, often with many wicks, are reverentially waved in front of the god’s image.

Yakshis—female tree spirits, with command over fertility
Ganesha—son of Parvati, the lord of beginnings and placer and remover of obstacles [he’s a bit more than an elephant-head boy].
The Great Goddess—the evidence for a goddess connected with the earth and with fertility can probably be traced back to the sixth millennium BCE at sites in Baluchistan west of the Indus. The religion of a powerful female deity developed further in historical periods. She was sometimes seen as a consort of Shiva, but also as a fiercely independent figure [personally I prefer the latter].

She, like Shiva, is worshipped both as a symbol (the female organ, yoni) and also as a human figure. Her concerns, both benign and malevolent, are with human and agricultural fertility as well as with epidemics and disease. She is also associated with the fruitfulness of rivers of India and is sometimes regarded as the very land itself, Mother India.

The Great Goddess of India has many names; in her fierce aspect she may be Durga, Kali or Chumunda; in her benign form she may be Parvati, Ganga (Ganges River), or Annapurna. She is also worshipped in sets of ‘Mothers,’ especially in the group known as ‘the 7 Mothers’ (Saptamatrika).

INDIAN RELIGIONS
Yantra—metal plaque used to invoke the presence of deities, usually goddesses. Combo of script with circles, squares and triangles (the latter symbolic of female power) is considered highly effective. [At this museum, they’re between three and six inches across, and a dark reddish color.]

Yantras are visual versions of Mantras, for they are signs specific to individual deities. The iconography associated with goddesses contain a variety of Yantras, mostly based on interlocking triangles and circles—the triangle being the symbol of female power. [I’ve come across that in books on goddess art, from various cultures around the world, and at least one modern doll artist has incorporated the triangle into stylized dolls.]

Mandalas are powerful diagrams similarly connected with individual deities. In schematic form they represent the divine palace where the deity is enthroned surrounded by courtiers. They occur as paintings, as temporary diagrams in powders, as sculptures in 3D form—and even as temple plans. In Buddhism especially they are used as aids in meditation. [I’m tempted to get myself a Tibetan Mandala thangka some day, and I’ve bookmarked a website from which they can be purchased.]

Mantras are short verses or sometimes single syllables which, as chants, are thought to be intrinsically powerful and have particular connections with individual gods or goddesses. The most frequent: Om, at beginning of many prayers and texts.
Hariti—was fierce ogress who ate children. Buddha converted her to protect children. Consort of Panchika, general to Kubera the god of riches.

BUDDHISM
Buddhist art from Gandhara--Hellenistic features—big influence from Greece.
Ghandhara is the ancient name for part of NW Pakistan where an influential Buddhist art flourished in the early centuries CE. Although the campaign of Alexander the Great (327-6 BCE) left no impression on the region, the succeeding Hellenistic state in Northern Afghanistan (Bactria) soon expanded south and east of the Hindu Kush and into the plains of NW India. In the Punjab, the kings were Indo-Greeks. During the early centuries CE, the empire of a central Asian dynasty, the Kushans, controlled the region and for a time much of the Gangetic plan to the East.

JAINISM
Is founded on the teachings of an historic figure, Mahavira, who was probably born in the mid-6th Century BCE in Eastern India, and was a contemporary of the Buddha. He, like the Buddha, found the constraints of orthodox sacrificial religion too rigid and sought a more humanistic approach to existence.

As in all Indian religions, release from the continuous cycle of births was the basis of the teaching of Mahavira. He thought the necessity of a measured lifestyle, especially the avoidance of all life-taking. Any activity involving killing would mean an accumulation of bad karma and a lower rebirth in the next life. Jains consider vegetarianism to be essential therefore, and professions which involve the taking of life are to be avoided.

The goddess of learning, Sarasvati, is particularly honoured by the Jains: their monasteries have traditionally maintained substantial libraries where scriptures detailing the life of Mahavira as well as large collections of secular works are preserved.

Sarasvati—the Jains have a pantheon of 16 Goddesses of Learning, the most important of which is Sarasvati or Shruta Devi, the ‘Goddess of Sacred Learning.’ The importance of learning in Jainism helps explain why Sarasvati is shown holding a book; in her other hands she holds a noose (to tie ignorance) and a club (to subdue evil). The missing hand (in the sculpture) would have held a rosary, an emblem of meditation and inward knowledge. [Is it any wonder that Sarasvati is my favorite Hindu goddess, at least that I’ve read up on so far? And like quite a few Eastern deities, she’s not for just one religion—that’s cool that she’s also Jain.]

[Somewhere I’ve read that Jains tend to be so anti-materialist that some of them don’t even wear clothing. Excuse me, but can you tell me; is this a monastery or a nudist colony? They also tend to not travel—a good thing if they’re naked. If they went to an airport, they’d get arrested. Besides, they wouldn’t have any money for tickets anyway. I can just see the headlines: NAKED JAIN MONKS HIJACK PLANE. OK, don’t get me wrong—really, I respect their religion. This just went a little overboard. I’m not entirely sure there are Jain monks, or if they’re the homeless wandering sort.]

THE INDIAN TEMPLE
In South Asia, the temple is considered the location on Earth of a deity or a figure worthy of veneration. The earliest surviving temples are rock cut Buddhist shrines dating from the late 2nd century BCE. This tradition of excavated shrines continued for almost a thousand years in the Deccan and includes Buddhist, Hindu and Jain examples. The most enduring form of Indian temple architecture, however, is of a constructed building.

Temples are made up of elements which replicate ideas of the Indian universe. In a Hindu temple, the deity is placed at the centre encircled by consort and court. A towering superstructure is usually built above the deity to recall the mountain home of the gods. Surrounding the shrine is a courtyard separated by protective deities providing access.

SACRED ARCHITECTURE
Architectural features in Buddhist, Hindu and Jain temples: ground plans which reflect the need to proceed around a central shrine, to make eye contact (Darshon) with the image and to make offerings.

Different materials were used in temple building in SE Asia. Terracotta panels on outside. More usual—use of stones for Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain temples. Wood was commonly used for temples in Nepal, in the foothills of the Himalayas and in the forested regions of South Asia.

Indian terracotta:
Unlike stone or bronze, which were commissioned by wealthy patrons, terracotta was inexpensive and perishable.
The objects displayed illustrate important uses of terracotta:
-Images from religious cults, which are among the best records of popular Indian religion from the earlier periods
-Modeled bricks, ranging from 5th to 8th centuries CE, which testify to the popularity of brick and timber architecture throughout Indian history.
-Terracotta icons, such as votive plaques, which served as vehicles for disseminating religious ideas.

Bodhisattva Prajnaparamita—embodiment of Mahayana texts, the Prajnaparamita or ‘Perfection of Wisdom.’ Her most important attribute is the text itself, visible on the lotus above her left shoulder. [She's also considered Mother of the Buddhas.]

A monkey…gave honey to the Buddha, at Vaishali. The monkey fell into a trance while he worshipped, was drowned, and was reborn as a god.

Vishnu’s wives are Bhu Devi and Shri Devi (also called Lakshmi). Bhu Devi is the Earth Goddess and Shri Devi, the Goddess of Wealth and Auspiciousness. [No wonder I remember Lakshmi—apparently she’s really popular in India].

Lakshmi was originally a mother goddess and personification of the Earth. Later she became the Goddess of Riches and Beauty. She is most often, as here, depicted carrying a lotus.

Kinnari—the female form of a semi-divine being; the upper part human, the lower part avian. They are the singers and musicians of the gods and are known in all Indian religions.

Writing After Leaving the Museum

At Tottenham Court Station (we were footsore after walking around the British Museum), we did not come across a cat named Grizabella, but we discovered the true meaning of rush hour at a Tube station. We got into the station, and then suddenly I saw wall-to-wall humans, moving slowly because of the crush. I truly think a person could be crushed to death at a Tube station during rush hour. An official person announced that if you’re taking the Northern Line, use the spiral staircase to the left, so we followed those directions—at the same time following a huge crowd of people down those metal, curving stairs, around and around, a metal staircase, and I really should have put my book bag in my right hand and used the railing against the wall, because my feet were too big to comfortably use the inner end, which was very narrow, especially when moving that fast. I was afraid I would fall.

Here we are at the Fitzroy Tavern, but it’s very crowded, with no empty table upstairs, and also very loud and containing smokers, and my sister didn’t recognize any of the people there—she only knew the Dr. Who fan group from the Internet, not face to face, and has only seen one photo each of a couple of the people we were supposed to meet with. I asked at the bar (after we went to the basement and didn’t see or hear people hanging out there), but the guy at the counter didn’t know of a Dr. Who fan club, and he suggested downstairs, which makes sense because it’s the place for writers group meetings. So we went back down and really looked around—there were two guys putting away photography equipment or something, and soon they left and we were the only ones. So we went back upstairs, wandering around shyly looking at people, got drinks, and came back down here to the basement. That’s right, I ordered a pint! Of Coca cola.

I had a great time at the British Museum all day, in any case. I saw the Elgin marbles and an ancient Greek temple and the Egyptian statues—I was really looking for a Bastet statue and thought I might have seen one somewhere around the front entrance—I settled for buying a Bastet post card. I want to sculpt a Bastet, complete with a pierced ear so I can put an earring on her. Better her than me.

In any case, I spent most of the day in the Asian art exhibit, mainly Hindu and Buddhist art, and also some Jain. It was really impressive—in the long gallery containing Asian religious art, they even have quite a bit of Tibetan art (not to mention the museum shop has quite a few books on Tibetan art, and even one on the indigenous Bon religion of Tibet). I saw ritual musical instruments--the big long trumpets, a very elaborately decorated conch shell, and large cymbals, that sort of thing. I also saw about four hand-held prayer wheels (including a fairly large one that had lost its handle), lots of Buddha and lama statues, including a small bronze Malarepa. Big, big gold Avalokitesvara Buddha standing in a display case that you can walk around. Another one still had lots of little bits of coral and turquoise. Most of the Tibetan stuff was 18th and 19th century, though some was as old as the 14th-15th. Oh, yes, I saw a pair of carved wooden nesting tables painted in bright, lively colors—red, yellow, blue, green, white---flowers and I think birds. (Gee, they’d look good in my dining room.) Three butter lamps, one of which was really big, about a foot tall.

After we got back to the hostel, my sister mentioned the Rosetta Stone—she was so happy to see it at the British Museum and had not known it was there, and my mouth dropped open as I suddenly realized: I had glanced at it for just a moment and walked past it. I was so absorbed in looking for cat goddesses like Bastet, not a simple rectangular chunk of pinkish stone. Oh dear.

Musicians At Tube Stations

On our first or second day, a flautist was playing at a fork in the underground tunnel—I forget which station, but it reminded me of the character Lear in Neil Gaiman’s fantasy novel Neverwhere. There was another musician between that and today, but I forget what they were playing. This morning, a good-looking musician with a dark ponytail and an electric guitar was playing a Beatles song (“I once knew a girl…”) at the Tottenham Court Station, and long before we reached him, the music trailed down the tiled tunnels—impressive acoustics. Later, on our way back, we passed another guy (not nearly as good looking—quite homely, actually) in approximately the same spot, playing a non-electric guitar.