Legend has it that the famous calligrapher Omar Aqta wanted to impress Timur, the dreaded Turkic conqueror who ruled Central Asia in the fifteenth century. He worked painstakingly on a Quran so small that it fit into a cygnet ring for the Emperor. Timur was unimpressed by such work. He preferred a larger more extravagant tribute to his power.
And so the master calligrapher went back to his craft and produced life-sized pages of text; breathtaking in scale (five feet by seven feet) and design. As one can imagine, these pages were quite heavy. They were then transported by wheelbarrow to the Emperor. The calligrapher was rewarded handsomely by the ruler, who clearly equated size and scale with power. Centuries later, pages of these texts were found by a British traveller in a desolate mausoleum in Eastern Iran. This was one of the many stories that are told so wonderfully in the Washington DC Smithsonian Sackler Gallery’s latest exhibition, ‘The Sacred Text’, the first major exhibition of its kind in the US. The exhibit is a powerful form of storytelling, ranging in scope from the 7th century to the 17th, showcasing the history of art, religion and through it, Islamicate empires.
The relationship between art and religion is old - depicting in pictures many religious events and themes. It holds not only artistic but historic value in multiple religions. In Islam, of course, depictions of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) have not been allowed. In general, orthodoxy frowned upon figure-based drawings of any kind, and this pushed artists to find another way to honour the sacred text visually - through breathtakingly beautiful and well-developed calligraphy and designs - seen most visibly in both the words of text and the intricate gold designs that marked divisions in the text. Isfahan in Persia was one of the centers of such creativity in the eleventh century, but several others emerged, including in Samarkand, Baghdad, Cairo and Herat.
The old rulers of this region maintained many calligraphers each, who spent many years working on a single Quranic text. Over time, the Ottoman Empire acquired some of these treasures. These were considered as prized royal possessions - a demonstration of the ruler’s piety but also to bestow honour on guests or to demonstrate prowess against rival Islamic empires.
To this day, many of these old Qurans have been lovingly preserved in the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts in Istanbul. Many of the ones lent to the Sackler gallery for the exhibit were transported in two planes, rather than one, to ensure that they remain safe and guarded from contemporary threats.
The manuscripts span several centuries, beginning with the 8th century - when parchment and reed pens were used to transcribe texts. By the fifteenth century, calligraphers and illuminators worked side by side to create heavily embellished and gilded works of art. These folios are reverential to the text, which essentially remains the same, but highlight artistic discipline and commitment. Over time, parchment gave way to imported paper from the East through the Silk Route and calligraphers used inks made of precious minerals.
The calligraphers developed decorated the text; marking it so it would be recited easily as well as to highlight the beauty of the message, rather like oral reciters of the Quran who use their voices to modulate the message.
One interesting dimension of the exhibition were the quotes from the Quran and its reference to the importance of the pen or qalam to record the words of God: “…and if all the trees on earth were pens and the oceans were ink, with seven oceans behind it, to add to it, yet would not all the words of Allah be exhausted.” The qalam was used to record the text and gradually helped to standardise it.
Picture, if you can, Omar Aqta’ and his fellow calligraphers spending evenings under candle light, using pens sometimes consisting of a single hair brush. They would write the text firstly in Arabic and then in smaller font underneath in their local language - be it Persian or Turkish - and illuminate the text with gold leaf. They would spend over two years on a single copy of the Quran and a fellow illuminator would adorn each page with intricately designed geometric patterns, trying to create form for a beautiful oral tradition. In some ways, that is as much religious devotion as what masquerades today as commitment to Islam.
These folios had multiple purposes - to be read silently or out loud to others, to disseminate the word of God, to be a visual presence in one’s life and also to secure “Baraka” or divine blessings, particularly when they exchanged hands as gifts. Going through the exhibit, I remembered that one of my most precious wedding gifts was a Quran which was heavily embellished by an ivory and gold calligraphy silk cover, lovingly handmade by a friend.
The opening of the Sackler exhibition was an enjoyable day-long affair - it attracted hordes of people, including my children, who were absorbed quietly during the day, intent on filling out Islamic geometric patterns in the Imaginasia classroom or wandering through the exhibits, looking at Qurans larger than they were.
In an election period that has been so divisive in the US, it has been amazing to see the cultural sensitivity and reverence with which this exhibition has been put together by the curators Massumeh Farhad and Simon Rettig. One must applaud their commitment; they spent six years assembling an exhibit which shows a nuanced face of Islam, celebrating the multi-faceted beauty of the text as well as the rich Islamic history that surrounds it.
In all this, the manuscripts take on an important role, to educate us about the patronage of art through the ages, the sheer effort and mastery of craft that it takes to produce these works and an Islamic history which is not linked to sect, creed or race. It is a simple dedication to the richness and magnificent history of arts in the Islamic world. It brings it to life and disseminates its messages of peace and reconciliation - which are much needed today in the United States.
Momina Aijazuddin is currently based in Washington D.C.
And so the master calligrapher went back to his craft and produced life-sized pages of text; breathtaking in scale (five feet by seven feet) and design. As one can imagine, these pages were quite heavy. They were then transported by wheelbarrow to the Emperor. The calligrapher was rewarded handsomely by the ruler, who clearly equated size and scale with power. Centuries later, pages of these texts were found by a British traveller in a desolate mausoleum in Eastern Iran. This was one of the many stories that are told so wonderfully in the Washington DC Smithsonian Sackler Gallery’s latest exhibition, ‘The Sacred Text’, the first major exhibition of its kind in the US. The exhibit is a powerful form of storytelling, ranging in scope from the 7th century to the 17th, showcasing the history of art, religion and through it, Islamicate empires.
The relationship between art and religion is old - depicting in pictures many religious events and themes. It holds not only artistic but historic value in multiple religions. In Islam, of course, depictions of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) have not been allowed. In general, orthodoxy frowned upon figure-based drawings of any kind, and this pushed artists to find another way to honour the sacred text visually - through breathtakingly beautiful and well-developed calligraphy and designs - seen most visibly in both the words of text and the intricate gold designs that marked divisions in the text. Isfahan in Persia was one of the centers of such creativity in the eleventh century, but several others emerged, including in Samarkand, Baghdad, Cairo and Herat.
The old rulers of this region maintained many calligraphers each, who spent many years working on a single Quranic text. Over time, the Ottoman Empire acquired some of these treasures. These were considered as prized royal possessions - a demonstration of the ruler’s piety but also to bestow honour on guests or to demonstrate prowess against rival Islamic empires.
These folios are reverential to the text, which essentially remains the same, but highlight artistic discipline and commitment
To this day, many of these old Qurans have been lovingly preserved in the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts in Istanbul. Many of the ones lent to the Sackler gallery for the exhibit were transported in two planes, rather than one, to ensure that they remain safe and guarded from contemporary threats.
The manuscripts span several centuries, beginning with the 8th century - when parchment and reed pens were used to transcribe texts. By the fifteenth century, calligraphers and illuminators worked side by side to create heavily embellished and gilded works of art. These folios are reverential to the text, which essentially remains the same, but highlight artistic discipline and commitment. Over time, parchment gave way to imported paper from the East through the Silk Route and calligraphers used inks made of precious minerals.
The calligraphers developed decorated the text; marking it so it would be recited easily as well as to highlight the beauty of the message, rather like oral reciters of the Quran who use their voices to modulate the message.
One interesting dimension of the exhibition were the quotes from the Quran and its reference to the importance of the pen or qalam to record the words of God: “…and if all the trees on earth were pens and the oceans were ink, with seven oceans behind it, to add to it, yet would not all the words of Allah be exhausted.” The qalam was used to record the text and gradually helped to standardise it.
Picture, if you can, Omar Aqta’ and his fellow calligraphers spending evenings under candle light, using pens sometimes consisting of a single hair brush. They would write the text firstly in Arabic and then in smaller font underneath in their local language - be it Persian or Turkish - and illuminate the text with gold leaf. They would spend over two years on a single copy of the Quran and a fellow illuminator would adorn each page with intricately designed geometric patterns, trying to create form for a beautiful oral tradition. In some ways, that is as much religious devotion as what masquerades today as commitment to Islam.
These folios had multiple purposes - to be read silently or out loud to others, to disseminate the word of God, to be a visual presence in one’s life and also to secure “Baraka” or divine blessings, particularly when they exchanged hands as gifts. Going through the exhibit, I remembered that one of my most precious wedding gifts was a Quran which was heavily embellished by an ivory and gold calligraphy silk cover, lovingly handmade by a friend.
The opening of the Sackler exhibition was an enjoyable day-long affair - it attracted hordes of people, including my children, who were absorbed quietly during the day, intent on filling out Islamic geometric patterns in the Imaginasia classroom or wandering through the exhibits, looking at Qurans larger than they were.
In an election period that has been so divisive in the US, it has been amazing to see the cultural sensitivity and reverence with which this exhibition has been put together by the curators Massumeh Farhad and Simon Rettig. One must applaud their commitment; they spent six years assembling an exhibit which shows a nuanced face of Islam, celebrating the multi-faceted beauty of the text as well as the rich Islamic history that surrounds it.
In all this, the manuscripts take on an important role, to educate us about the patronage of art through the ages, the sheer effort and mastery of craft that it takes to produce these works and an Islamic history which is not linked to sect, creed or race. It is a simple dedication to the richness and magnificent history of arts in the Islamic world. It brings it to life and disseminates its messages of peace and reconciliation - which are much needed today in the United States.
Momina Aijazuddin is currently based in Washington D.C.