
THE SHAH MUST GO ON
Yesterday was the festival of Nourouz, as anyone in the vicinity of an Iranian restaurant will be aware. Finding evidence of Iran’s great artistic contribution is more difficult. Nowhere in the Islamic world has had a more prolific output and yet it is not always easy to locate.
Contemporary Iranian art is ubiquitous – most of the Middle Eastern market consists of this rather than the work of Arab artists. It fills countless galleries in the Gulf and elsewhere. Older Iranian artefacts, however, are usually found only in Islamic-art museums. A spectacular collection exists in the most publicised new museum of recent times. The Museum of Islamic Art in Qatar is famous for being a big enough project to bring the legendary architect I.M. Pei out of retirement. When it opened last year, most of the attention went to Pei and the canapés. YoYo Ma with his cello was another popular attraction. There was also an exhibition, which has been a less lasting achievement with minimal input from Iranian institutions.
Far from Qatar an exhibition has opened at one of the world’s oldest museums, rather than its youngest. The British Museum has received less international publicity than the museum in Qatar and it certainly deserves more. Most remarkably, it’s a blockbuster show with Iranian art as the theme. ‘Shah Abbas: The Remaking of Iran’ is in the same series as two of the most successful exhibitions of recent years. The first was about China’s Emperor Qin Shihuangdi, and the second was about the Roman Emperor Hadrian. Both brought in record crowds, with visitors booking months ahead and having limited-time tickets.
I’m not sure how Shah Abbas I is doing, but he probably needs a bit more support. He doesn’t have any terracotta warriors (like Shihuangdi) or a famous wall (like Hadrian or Shihuangdi). Few art lovers have heard of this Safavid ruler and yet his reign (1587 - 1629) was remarkable. Equally remarkable is the way Iran has become such a central world player while its traditional art is less well known now than it was a century ago.
The US probably won’t get as excited about this exhibition as the UK, mainly because America still has all sorts of restrictions on relations with ‘Axis of Evil’ Iran.
When I wrote recently about America getting over the British burning down the White House, unlike China which refuses to let go of its Summer Palace being looted, I was talking about 200 years ago. America has not, however, recovered from the humiliation inflicted during the Tehran siege of 1979. Art might help the healing process.
The art of Iran reveals that the nation may usually have been good on the battlefield but its first love has always been love. Could there be a nation of more incurable romantics? Poetry fills every type of surface at the British Museum exhibition. When the elite of Iran were not pining for some unobtainable woman – or ringletted man – they were seeking union with God. It was not all about prostrating themselves before a frightening and unknowable Almighty. The aim was a kind of mystical union, and in the front row of the love fest were the Sufi orders.
These have become increasingly popular around the world in recent years, even in Malaysia, where they are not approved of. They might be called ‘Sufi light’ when compared to the heavy-duty ecstasy that existed in Iran of the Safavid era (1502 -1736). The British Museum exhibition sheds fascinating light on the different forms of inebriation that existed there. The way in which the show was assisted by some of Iran’s leading institutions shows the country’s willingness to examine the past without censoring it.
In a different, and supposedly more liberal part of the Islamic world, Dubai has just banned dancing and loud music. The Sufis of today won’t be holidaying there, which will suit the emiratal authorities fine.
Dancing and loud music were part of the package in old-style Sufi practice but their act has been cleaned up nowadays. Just as old-style crazy Christian preachers with an aversion to bathing have been replaced by Teflon-suited TV evangelists with great teeth, the disreputable ways of the dervish have gone. Fortunately they have been recorded at the British Museum. Malaysian residents who can’t make it to London will find an admirable substitute in the exhibition catalogue written by the pre-eminent scholar Sheila Canby. Priced at a mere RM125, the pound’s decline against the resurgent ringgit is a bonus to art lovers.
There is a lot more than whirling dervishes on display in both the exhibition and the catalogue. The profusion and variety of art at the time is astonishing. Iran was a world superpower of the 17th century, thanks largely to one very ambitious emperor. Art was probably not his greatest passion; there are few dictators who would list it among their favourite hobbies, and Saddam Hussein certainly couldn’t tell a bomb from a blonde bombshell on canvas.
The milieu that Shah Abbas created was an incentive to artists. The emperor did as much to encourage creative innovation as the present rulers of Iran do to ignore it. This hasn’t stopped Iran from being one of the great artistic hothouses of the past few years. So, maybe official policy is irrelevant. Art will always be a part of Iran; just like food at Nourouz.
(published in the New Sunday Times, 22 March 2009)
