I feel a lot better about the super-rich when they have impeccable taste, buy good stuff, then share their collections with the rest of us. Enter Sheikh Hamad bin Abdullah Al Thani, Qatari prince, CEO of that country's investment juggernaut Qipco, and modern-day Lorenzo di Medici.
In addition to completing a spectacular, historically-accurate and reportedly tasteful restoration of one of Park Lane's historic mansions (great Vanity Fair article about it here), he's turned a passion for the bling of the Indian maharajas into one of the best jewellery collections in the world. And now he's sharing it with us mere mortals at the Victoria & Albert Museum until 10 April.
You know you're in for something special from the first moment, when you step into a dark entry vestibule to be greeted by a single item. It's the Maharaja of Nawangar's turban jewel (pictured above): a 152.64-carat explosion of diamond-difused light, with a cheeky little spray of ostrich feathers coming out the top to lighten the mood. It is, quite literally, jaw dropping ... and that part of your anatomy is likely to be lowered for most of the show.
Everything here is magnificent, however the displays manage to captivate you. They may grab your emotion, with their innate appeal to the human love of beautiful, sparkly, shiny things. They may impress you with their sophisticated craftsmanship or elegant design. The fiscally intrepid will enjoy calculating the net worth. The thoughtful may ponder what they say about the history of India, and India's influence on the West. I thought about all of those things but, ultimately, I was just a girl blown away by a lot of highly desirable jewellery.
Diamonds take centre stage, of course. You'll see them in complex, traditional European cuts that refract light to glittering excess. In fascinating contrast is the traditional uncut Indian approach, where surfaces curving like a river-washed pebble give off a subtler sheen. Demonstrated by the front of another turban jewel shown at left. But the maharajas were equal opportunity jewellers. You'll find lots of spinels, which are indistinguishable from rubies to an amateur's eyes, though their chemical composition is different. They're hanging from the bauble at left. Emeralds and sapphires both make starring appearances; my favourite pieces used them together. I found emeralds carved with designs or sayings particularly fascinating, and there's a modern uncut sapphire and diamond brooch at the very end where the blue is so beguiling it's as if someone has managed to contain and distil the sea above a coral reef as the sun shimmers upon it.
There are some opulent swords and daggers to keep the boys interested, along with some loot Clive and his troops brought back from India. The jewelled bird and lion's head from Tipu Sultan's throne are here, on loan from the prince's good friend Queen Elizabeth II. I've seen them many times at Windsor Castle, where they tend to fade into the general magnificence of the place. Here, isolated in a pool of light in an otherwise dim room, you can properly appreciate them.
The maharajas loved enamel work almost as much as gems, and there are some fine examples of what's known as "Kundun setting" here. Front-facing gems are set in 24-carat gold, while the backs or bottoms of objects are covered in enamel. Look at the back of a similar turban jewel to the one I talked about above (now at right) to see the level of craftsmanship lavished on something only the owner would ever see, to get a sense of just how rich and powerful these people were.
My only complaint with the whole show: a video showing how this stuff is made is at the very end, when you'd appreciate the objects much more if you saw it at the beginning. Or, just watch it on the web now.
In the late 19th century, the European world fell in love with India and the Orient. The last section of the show demonstrates how famous jewellers like Cartier, or whole movements like Art Deco, took their inspiration from the maharajas. While I loved everything, these are the pieces I'd want to take home with me. (Though how you'd be brave enough to wear any of this without an armed guard at your back, I have no idea.) Most spectacular in this section is the peacock brooch the curators selected to be the emblem of the whole show. With good reason. It's practically alive, as its eyes glint at you and its unusual curved shape (made to wear over a shoulder, or rounding the top of a pile of upswept hair) makes the feathers seem to move. The story behind it ... of a travelling maharaja falling in love with a teenaged Spanish dancing girl, and commissioning the piece in Paris as part of his campaign to sweep her off her feet and make her his wife ... is rather spectacular, too.
She said yes. Bewitched with that kind of jewellery, most girls would.
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