Tutankhamun’s Artisans

Golden coffin, from the exhibition Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the PharoahsToday I finally made it to the Tutankhamun exhibition at the Melbourne Museum – and not before time, as it was the last day. I have always loved ancient history (I still have my grade 7 history book on the subject stored somewhere) and was fascinated to see artefacts from antiquity. But what I was really looking forward to seeing was the jewellery.

Disappointingly, there wasn’t so much of it, but what was there was spectacular. The craftsmanship of Tutankhamun’s jewellers is breathtaking, the pieces just gorgeous. So much painstaking detail went into the creation of these collars, pectorals (chest plates) and headdresses – what skill and patience is evidenced in their construction!

CollarThe pieces are of gold and precious stones, although glass and faience were often used in imitation of the rare lapis lazuli and turquoise – although undoubtedly no expense would be spared for the royal family.

Below is a painting depicting jewellers and metalworkers of the 18th Dynasty, from a fragment in the Theban tomb of Sobkhotep, a civil administrator from a district near Cairo. In the upper register, two men use bow-driven multiple drills to create red stone beads, probably of carnelian, which a third polishes on a wooden block. The figure on the left of the lower register assembles a decorative collar from a variety of materials. On the right, workers can be seen using blowpipes to stoke their charcoal fires, their silver and gold products displayed above them.

Image from ‘The Art of Egyptian Hieroglyphs', Hamlyn, 1997. Click for larger image.Scroll down to see more of the treasures found in Tutankhamun’s tomb.

Headdress; Tutankhamun was wearing this in his coffin Pectoral; blue skin indicated divinityFalcon collar

Shaping Up

A Papier Maché Adventure, Part IV

My papier maché masks are no longer sightless! I took to them with a scalpel and gave them life. They now have not only eyes, but nostrils – and suddenly so much character. I also trimmed the girl mask on the sides of her face, although she still looks a little square. Hopefully she’ll paint up prettier than she looks now. And my goateed little man had some surgery to his mouth to correct its off-centre position.

The next step will be the application of another slimy layer of tissue paper to smooth over the incisions, then a nice white basecoat of gesso before their faces go on. I’m still debating whether they should be attached to beribboned handles, or tied on with satin ribbons.

Read about the previous step here.

A Tissue Makeover

Much more the thing: tissue covers the unsightly pulp layer that had yellowed with ageMonths and months have passed since I last touched my papier maché masks. Today I finally made time to get onto the next stage. My poor masks looked like lepers after the failed pulp experiment; I’d decided to try tissue paper because I’d read it gave papier maché a porcelain-like finish. Anything to restore their complexions…

Six cups of water and one quarter cup flour boils down to thisWhile the flour and water glue was cooking (1/4 cup flour added to one cup water and mixed til smooth, then added to five cups of boiling water, and cooked for several minutes to thicken), I began tearing tissue paper into usable strips.

I’d been squirreling away white tissue paper all these months, having discovered that the tissue paper used for wrapping in stores is softer and easier to tear than giftwrap tissue – maybe it is recycled? Tearing the paper using just my hands proved too laborious, and I quickly subverted the use of a steel ruler.

Four or five sheets of tissue paper are more than enough for the job – there’s plenty left over for next timeI found that once the tissue paper was dipped in the flour paste, it became very delicate, which meant I had to work at a fast clip. The tissue took on the consistency of cellophane rice noodles and their recalcitrant slippery nature, and the protective dropcloth soon became slopped with paste.

The tissue took on the consistency of cellophane rice noodles and their recalcitrant slippery nature…

It was a fun, tactile experience however, and I’m really pleased with the end result. Now that the bumpy pulp has been covered up in many layers of tissue, you can see the sweet expressions of my bearded gentleman and his lady once more. A couple more rounds of tissue and then they’ll be ready for some gesso!

Tile Style

Portugal is really famous for it’s tiles, azulejo in Portuguese. According to the guidebook, one cannot say one has really been to Lisbon if one has not been to the national tile museum. Happily, I can say I have.

You can buy single tiles as souvenirs, but I could not decide which I liked best, and by the time I did, I decided my bag was too heavy for such nonessentials (although it would have made a nice trivet). All I came away with was a couple of ceramic tile pendants, which I intended to restring with beads to give as presents.

I was surprised that besides these diamond-shaped tiles there was very little to choose from by way of ceramic jewellery. These originally came strung on leather cord. I unpicked the knots and restrung the pendant with Indian bone beads and turquoise ovals. And happily, my sister Star (to whom I gave it), can say she loves it. 

Keeping The Brickish End Up

How adorable are these bookends made from bricks? And how apt! Some of those bricks look hefty enough to hold up any length of books, so they are practical as well as picturesque. They also have the added advantage of making one look much more intellectual.

My only sorrow is that I have lost all record of their provenance, so I can’t tell you the name of their witty maker. Very clever styling too.