One would enquire in vain for the masters who brought this system to its flowering or those
who later opened up new ways for its development. This art is totally anonymous and it
would contradict the artist’s noblest charge, which was the liberation of the spirit from the
transitoriness of worldly ties.
-Ernst Kühnel, The Arabesque (Kühnel 1977, P. 13)
Dish With epigraphic decoration. The Kufic inscription reads: ‘Science has first a bitter taste, but at the end it tastes sweeter than honey’ |
Consistency and Variety
Islamic art has a recognisable aesthetic signature that somehow manages to express
itself across an entire range of productions. The ‘language’ of this art, once established,
was readily assimilated by each of the different nations and ethnicities that
were brought within the Islamic sphere.
Assimilated and built upon, because every
region, at every period, produced its own versions of this super-national style.
This extraordinary consistency of styles and artistic preferences in the Islamic
world clearly derive from a deeper, social consistency.
Muslims have always held to
the same basic system of belief, with its customary forms of religious observation,
and all, despite national and ethnic differences, have identified themselves as Muslim
first and foremost. Historically, this strong sense of identity and continuity has tended
towards a high degree of social, and artistic, conservatism.
As a result many forms
and artistic concepts remained unchanged over the centuries. on the other hand,
Islamic art has constantly demonstrated its capacity for the creative reinterpretation
of accepted forms.
Much of the art of Islam, whether in architecture, ceramics, textiles or books, is
the art of decoration—which is to say, of transformation.
The aim, however, is never
merely to ornament, but rather to transfigure. Essentially, this is a reflection of the
Islamic preoccupation with the transitory nature of being. Substantial structures and
objects are made to appear less substantial, materials are de-materialised.
The vast
edifices of mosques are transformed into lightness and pattern; the decorated pages of a Qur’¯an can become windows onto the infinite. Perhaps most importantly, the
Word, expressed in endless calligraphic variations, always conveys the impression
that it is more enduring than the objects on which it is inscribed.
Image only for reference, not an actual representation on early Islamic Art |
Symmetry and Geometry
Another familiar characteristic of this art, which must also express something fundmental to the Islamic spirit, is its predilection for orderly, symmetrical arrangements
in general and for purely geometrical decorative forms in particular. The influence
of both philosophical and religious ideas on this aspect of Islamic art were examined
earlier, but the abstract, ideational nature of symmetry
and geometry clearly fit with the Islamic taste for idealistic otherworldliness.
From a purely doctrinal viewpoint, geometrical designs, being free of any symbolic
meaning, could convey a general aura of spirituality
without offending religious sensibilities. In addition, the purity and orderliness
of patterns and symmetries are able to evoke a sense of transcendent beauty which,
at best, would free and stimulate the intellect.
There is a certain disregard for scale in Islamic art that derives from this perception.
Similar kinds of patterning, for instance, might be found on a huge tile panel or on a
bijou ornament. This is because decorative effects, in an Islamic context, are never
mere embellishments, but always refer to other, idealised states of being. In this view, scale is almost irrelevant.
For similar reasons Islamic ornemanistes usually opted for
acentric arrangements in patterning, avoiding obvious focal points—a preference
that resonates with the Islamic perception of the Absolute as an influence that is
not ‘centred’ in a divine manifestation (as in Christianity), but whose presence is an
even and pervasive force throughout the Creation.
Image only for reference, not an actual representation on early Islamic Art |
A further analogy can be drawn
between the patiently created repeats of the ‘infinite’ pattern (in all its varieties), and
the familiar and unvarying customs of Muslim religious observances.
In an Islamic context repetition is not tedious; on the contrary, it connects to the world of the spirit.
Whether in a religious setting or not, the work of Muslim artist/craftsmen always manages to convey a certain integrity, even nobility. In fact the distinction between art and craft is largely irrelevant in the Islamic world, but even when their works demonstrated surpassing skill and inspiration, the practitioners tended to remain anonymous. This is not surprising; in a culture whose ideal was submission to the will of Allah, it was quite natural to submit creative individuality to a perceived higher notion of beauty .
Earlier Islamic Art
The Umayyad’s were the first dynasty to rule the
newly-established Islamic Empire (from the mid 7th–8th centuries). During this early
period, which was marked by conquest and consolidation, such art and architecture
that was commissioned drew on pre-Islamic traditions (primarily those of Christian
Byzantine and Sassanian Persia).
Even so, there are clear signs of the emergence of
Islamic aesthetic priorities. The main elements of decoration at this time derive from
late-classical traditions of stone-carving, floor and wall mosaic and wall painting,
but plaster decoration, introduced from the Hellenised East, is also used.
Baghdad, Samarra and Political Fragmentation; 8th–10th Centuries
The replacement of the Umayyad dynasty by the Abbasid (in 750) saw the removal
of the capital eastwards to Baghdad, and later to Samarra.
These two great cities
were enormously important for the development of Islamic art and culture but, sadly,
little has survived of either from the early period. From the fragments of architectural
decoration that have been recovered there appears to have been a steady move away
from naturalistic treatments, towards more abstract and repetitive forms.
The long-
established Eastern traditions of plasterwork and brickwork were adopted as the
principal architectural materials in the Islamic East, and were to remain so for the
following centuries .
Stylistic Maturity; 11th–12th Centuries
The Abbasid Caliphate began to lose political power, and its
Empire to fragment, at the turn of the 10th century.
The most serious consequences
of this political turmoil, for Islamic culture as a whole, were the accompanying
religious controversies and multiplicity of doctrines. In time, in a reverse of the status
quo of earlier centuries, Shi’ism became the dominant creed among the various
secessionist dynasties, and for a period this interpretation looked set to dominate the
Islamic world. But early in the 11th century there began a Sunni revival, which had
both religious and cultural aspects.
This movement, which saw itself as a restoration
of traditionalism, was accompanied by an artistic revival that established many of
the enduring forms of Islamic art and architecture—in particular, its canon of decorative
art.
The Sunni revival, which began in Baghdad, gradually spread through the Islamic
world.
As it did so, it became associated with a range of new artistic and architectural
forms, which became an identifying mark, a sort of symbolic language. These new
stylistic terms were adopted by the Ghaznavids in Khorasan, the Seljuks in Iran, the Zangids in Northern Syria, and the Ayyubids in Egypt.
The ‘classic’ style of Islamic
ornament which used distinctive epigraphic, geometric and abstract vegetal elements
first came to maturity during this period. This decorative canon was eventually taken
up in every part of the Islamic world.
The Islamic Decorative Canon
The three elements of the Islamic decorative canon began to appear as early as the
Umayyad period, but they crystallised into their classic forms during the ‘Sunni
Revival’ .
Calligraphy gives a visible form to the revealed word of the Qur’¯an and is therefore
considered the most noble of the arts (Moustafa and Sperl, 2014).
It manages to
combine a geometric discipline with a dynamic rhythm. Interestingly, none of its
many styles, created in different places at different periods, has ever completely
fallen into disuse. In the Islamic world it takes the place of iconography, being
widely used in the decorative schemes of buildings.
Geometric patterns have always had a particular appeal for Muslim designers and
craftsmen. They convey a certain aura of spirituality, or at least otherworldliness,
without relating to any specific doctrine.
In an Islamic context they are also quite
free of any symbolic meaning. Above all they provide craftsmen with the opportunity
to demonstrate his skill and subtlety of workmanship, and often to dazzle and intrigue
with its sheer complexity.
Vegetal ‘Arabesque’ compositions are as ubiquitous in Islamic decoration as
geometric patterns. It is difficult, without other indications, to determine where or
when a particular composition of this genre might have originated. Like geometrical
designs, these too are found across the entire range of media from book illustration to
plasterwork, in ceramics, woodwork, metalwork and ivory-carving, even in carpets
and textiles.
Islamic decorative canon |
The Craft Group
In Islamic Art here was no distinction between ‘art’ and ‘craft’ in the medieval
Islamic world, just as there was no sharp division between the notions of beauty and
utility. The idea of the brilliant, lone individualistic artist was also absent.
These are
modern concepts. In fact, architectural and artistic productions generally tended to
be the work of groups of anonymous craftsmen, whose occupations were usually
hereditary and based within guilds or similar craft groups.
However, given that the
subject area of ‘the decorative arts of Islam’ has such an extensive geographical and
historical reach, and involved a great variety of craft skills, generalisations of any
kind about this broad subject may be misleading. Among such a diverse range of
artistic traditions there were bound to be huge variations in working practices, social
status, and indeed of expressive intent, in so many and varied creative processes.
As we have indicated, by comparison with life in the modern world, medieval
Islamic society was highly conservative.
Accordingly, working practices, just like
the designs and motifs that were used, often persisted for generations with little
change. There was no formal training; skills were acquired in the workshops, and
were often handed down from father to son.
The apprentice/master relationship was
usually regularised however, and there is evidence that craft groups were formed
into guilds (which had similarities with the trade guilds of medieval Europe). It also
seems to have been the case that some of these guilds (in some periods at least) were
affiliated to religious groups.
Details of this kind are naturally difficult to uncover,
as they tended to be bound up with the mystique and protectiveness of what were
essentially closed professions. It is of more than passing interest though, that these
religious connections were usually associated with Sufi fraternities, whose mystical
outlook had been imbued with Neoplatonic concepts.
The production of specialised goods, and the particular skills involved, were often
localised, but these skills often took artisans far away from their home. Occasionally
these movements were less than voluntary.
In the turmoil of war craft skills were
generally prized as a form of booty and artisans could be carted off to the victor’s
base, sometimes en masse. Since the ruling power was usually the greatest patron of
arts and architecture, it often happened that new artistic movements were initiated in
this way. The dynasty founded by Timurlane was perhaps the most famous example
of this effect.
It occasionally happened that skilled craftsmen were welcomed as
refugees after fleeing invasions and wars. The relative security of Fatimid Egypt
attracted many Middle Eastern artisans during the turbulent 11th and 12th centuries,
much to the cultural benefit of Cairo.
The transfer of skills and knowledge as a result of migrations and conquest is
of course a time-honoured process.
Huge numbers of skilled artisans from various
traditions were brought into the Islamic fold as a result of the early conquests, and
in the course of time these skills became part of the background of Islamic culture.
But there was one craft technology in particular that was acquired in this way that
had a profound effect on the course of Islamic civilisation on many levels (including
the visual arts). This was the manufacture of paper.
The Role of Paper in Islamic Art and Architecture
The precise history of the uptake of this invention is somewhat hazy, but what is quite certain is that the relative cheapness and ease of production of paper ensured its rapid spread throughout the Islamic world during the 9th and 10th centuries—and that it transformed societies wherever it appeared. Paper was soon pressed into service by the Baghdad Caliphate, where it greatly facilitated their centralized rule, and Baghdad itself became one of many important centers of paper-making. As paper became available throughout the Islamic world it was gradually adopted by artists and craftsmen.
This usage began, naturally enough, among visual artists of higher status, calligraphers and those involved in the ‘arts of the book’.
The use of paper was slower to be adopted among craftsmen at a lower social position (woodworkers, stonemasons, weavers etc.,), partly because of the conservatism of their working practices, but also for cost reasons. As it became cheaper and more widely available however, paper became a standard tool in most crafts, and in the process it effected a transformation of the visual arts of Islam.
In essence, the adoption of paper into craft-based work practices introduced a certain separation of the design process from that of manufacture. This was bound to lead to a greater degree of organization in design right across the board, from architecture through to the humbler crafts of pottery and weaving.
Later this separation of design and making gave rise to a stylistic ‘centralization’, such as that exercised by the many royal studios and workshops that were maintained by the royal courts. Many dynastic styles were established and maintained in this way.
Paper was a common commodity in the Islamic world as early as the 12th century and was already being used by various (usually high-status) artisans to produce preliminary drawings for their work. In the centuries that followed, the use of paper designs was gradually adopted as normal practice.
This development undoubtedly fostered stylistic consistency across different media and promoted a common currency of style. There are many examples of close similarities between decorative motifs in architecture, book illumination and craft objects. There is some evidence that the sort of complex patterning and arabesques that are such a characteristic feature of Islamic art first appeared as decorative elements of books (as did calligraphy, of course).
As the ‘arts of the book’ enjoyed the highest status among crafts, it seems very likely that these designs would have gradually filtered down to other media. It is also clear that once pattern books and albums of design motifs came into being their repertoire could be applied to a whole range of artifacts, in different settings and at different scales. Designs could be copied, improved upon and, most importantly, they could travel.
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