If I commissioned one of those marketing word clouds to capture your first reaction upon hearing that country's name, it would probably not be positive. War. Taliban. Suicide bombers. Al Qaeda. Oppressed women. Spend an hour wandering around a gorgeous little exhibit now on in Holland Park, and you'll replace those words with better ones. Elegance. Beauty. Magnificence. Geometry. Sophistication.
Ferozkoh: Tradition and continuity in Afghan Art, occupies a single, medium-sized gallery off Leighton House Museum. It's a treasure trove. And one built around a fascinating conceit to explore that concept of continuity. There are 18 pairs of objects here. In each case, one is an ancient treasure from a legendary past filled with dynastic names like Mughal and Safavid. And the other is a modern piece, inspired by the first, created in the past few years by students or teachers from the Turquoise Mountain Institute for Afghan Arts in Kabul.
It's tremendous fun to try to guess which is which before you read the labels, because it's far from obvious. The stunning pendant above, for example, seemed a certainty for a piece of modern art. Bold, colourful moulded glass, figures sculpted in clean lines, sitting beside an illuminated manuscript page of a turbaned hero slaying a dragon. The painting? 2012. The pendant? 12th century. Another pair offers you a neck-filling circle of chunky red spinel gems, linked by bright gold chain. It would be at home on the catwalk of the next London fashion week. Its mate was a 38 carat, bar-shaped emerald with intricately wrought gold peacocks capping either end, hanging from an elaborate chain. Spinels, 17th century. Emerald, just crafted.
Almost everything here seems to be both intricate and elegant, a hallmark of Arabic art. There are pots with exquisite forms and complex incising. Wall tiles, textiles and manuscripts running riot with colour, arabesques, floral patterns and Arabic script, yet all reigned in by a geometric repetition that brings a soothing order. Wooden screens strip away all but the bare geometry, and dazzle you with the conundrum of something that can be simple and complex at the same time.
It's almost inconceivable that the war-torn, hellish country we see on the news is home to such majestic things. And that somewhere outside of Kabul there are men and women who aren't tragic news stories, but fine artists, continuing a rich tradition that we in the West certainly don't know enough about. It reminds me of the basic point of The Monuments Men, a fabulous book about to become a film. (Of that, more next month.)
We fight wars to preserve culture, because things like art, sculpture and music are the embodiment of all that is best in humanity. If we ignore or destroy that culture, we destroy the civilisation itself. Thanks to the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha, Qatar, for putting this show together and sending it our way. It runs 'til 23rd February, and I'd almost insist it's your cultural duty to see it. You'll be delighted and dazzled, while understanding more about why it's worth fighting for this place.
While you're there, of course, you also get to enjoy the rest of Leighton House.
Fredrick, Lord Leighton was a Victorian artist on the tail end of the pre-Raphaelite movement. You know the stuff. Statuesque maidens with flowing, curly hair and soulful heroes in richly-detailed historic settings. (I wrote about their show at the Tate in 2012.) Leighton turned up by the time it all got quite establishment; so much so he became president of the Royal Academy and was ennobled just before his death.
He was both prolific and profitable enough to build a generously-sized, lavishly decorated home and studio in Holland Park, now restored to its late 19th-century heyday after decades of neglect. In addition to Renaissance and ancient Roman settings, Leighton was a fan of the exoticism of the Middle East (thus the relevance of the current exhibit) and made his home's central hall a fantasy stage set for the Arabian Nights. Tiles, mosaics, dome, carved screens, babbling fountain … it's had jaws dropping for 100 years. And most Londoners don't even know it's there.
Check it out. You won't be disappointed.
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