Conversing with Civilisations

The Caryatid in the British Museum is one of the main objects dominating the challenges to museum curation. The group of Caryatids on the south porch of the Erechtheion temple in Athens are admired for their ‘full and sensual forms…[and] delicacy of their drapery,’ reappearing in the cathedrals of 12th and 13th century France, and during the Renaissance.

Acquisition is the predominant issue regarding museum curation, particularly due to unwanted British involvement in foreign affairs throughout history. Therefore, many items displayed in the British Museum, like the Caryatid, have a blurred or unforgiving past of acquisition, with debates still ongoing whether they were donated by other countries, or if they were imorally obtained during periods of British expansion.

Constructed on the Erechtheion between 421 and 406 BC by an unknown artist, Caryatid 3 was purchased by the British Museum in 1816 from Lord Elgin, an ambassador to Ottoman Turkey. Naturally, opinions differ regarding the morality behind the transportation, with some viewing it as a ‘violent removal’ comprised of ‘bribery and threats,’ whereas others defend the act by claiming the Greek government ‘lack interest in the repatriation’ and that Elgin’s removal of the Caryatid saved the statue from the damage sustained by the others.

The statue that Lord Elgin took was the best preserved, as it avoided the pollution and erosion that the other five faced, as well as the damage suffered during the 1821-1829 Greek War of Independence. There has since been a number of campaigns launched with the intent of returning the marbles to their homeland. However, in 2011, PM David Cameron’s refusal to return them meant that the Caryatid remained where she was, despite the numerous requests of the Greek government and the Intergovenmental Committee for Promoting the Return of Cultural Property to its Countries of Origin (ICPRCP), established in 1978 which supports Greece’s requests.

There is an overwhelming scope of interpretations and scholarly thoughts to discuss in conversation with the Caryatid. The concept of standing, marble female figures has religious connotations: they could be derived from the ‘sculptured drums of the monumental temples of the East’; the Erechtheion Caryatids were raised in honour of Athene Polias; and they have comparisons with the myth of Atlas as they both bear immense weight on their shoulders. Further, there are contrasting narratives of the nomenclature origin proposed by Pausanias and Vitruvius, and the tales set forth by Hamilakis of the ‘spirits of the marbles crying…[and] mourning for their abducted sister,’ which recalls the valuable contemporary ideologies surrounding the Caryatid.

There is an abundance of research to be done around the contemporary societal reactions to the Caryatid’s abduction. For Western travellers and aristocracy, the Caryatids represented the great artistic achievements of European culture, whereas for the local population, they represented supernatural forces to be respected and feared. There is also scholarly debate surrounding whether the removal of the Caryatid benefitted contemporary society by drawing 19th century travellers to the Acropolis, or if this proliferation of tourism was due to the emerging popularity of classicism as a whole.

Given the controversy surrounding the Caryatid’s residency in the British Museum, ensuring the presentation is respectful and appropriate should be of the utmost significance for curators. The Caryatid, unlike her sisters, is presented bearing the weight of the replica architrave, which cleverly makes the ‘functional part of the Erectheum immediately clear to visitors,’ unlike the presentation in the National Archaeological Museum where the display ‘deprived [them] of the practical architectural function they were originally created to fulfil.’

The successful presentation of the Caryatid has allowed individuals to argue that the Caryatid should remain in the care of the British Museum, as opposed to returning to Greece where the display conditions are unsatisfactory. Criticisms further argued that the building of the National Archaeological Museum was ‘always intended to apply additional pressure’ for the repatriation, and that the location and presentation of the Greeks’ Caryatids was of ‘no pressing importance’ to them, discrediting the multitude of relentless campaigns for the repatriation of the marbles.

In essence, the Caryatid is one of the most appropriate objects for challenging museum curation due to its recent reappearance in popular cultural debate, and the unending controversy over the course of its life. It has seemingly led two lives, acting as a symbol fo European art, as well as acting as a figurehead for conversations surrounding British imperialism and the ownership over antique objects.

Bib.

Vitruvius, ‘De Architectura’

Beresford, James M., ‘The Caryatids in the New Acropolis Museum: Out of Sight, Out of Light, Out of Mind,’ Journal of Conservation and Museum Studies, 2016

Forbin, C., ‘Travels in Greece, Turkey, and the Holy Land, in 1817-1818,’

Julien, Pascal, ‘From Atlas to the Caryatid order. Anthropomorphic supports and immenseness of the world,’ The Founding Myths of Architecture, Artifice Press, 2020

Hamilakis, Yannis, ‘Stories from Exile: Fragments from the Cultural Biography of the Parthenon (or ‘Elgin’) Marbles,’ World Archaeology, vol. 31, no. 2, The Cultural Biography of Objects, October 1999

Lloyd-Morgan, G., ‘Caryatids and other supports,’ Architecture and Architectural Sculpture in the Roman Empire, 1990

Shear, Ione Mylonas, ‘Maidens in Greek Architecture: the Origin of the Caryatids,’ Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique, 1999

Stamatiou, Evi, ‘Caryatid Unplugged: a Cabaret of Performing and Negotiating Belonging and Otherness in Exile,’ Performing Exile: Foreign Bodies, 2017

Vickers, M., ‘Persepolis, Vitruvius, and the Erechtheum Caryatids: the Iconography of Medism and Servitude,’ Revue Archaeologique, 1985