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Today’s post is largely visual: here is a French Gothic Revival Bookstand made of ebony inlayed with wood, mother of pearl, and precious metals. The beautiful carvings are ivory. Carved in 1839 for the Duc D’Orleans, the piece evokes French renaissance furniture while exemplifying the apex of 19th century joinery and carving.
Most of the crowns of history are gone. Long ago they were lost or broken or stolen. Kingdoms fall. Raiders and thieves carry off the crown jewels which are then picked apart and melted down for gold. Famous national symbols like crowns are also deliberately destroyed for political reasons. This blog has told the story of many such missing crowns—for example the crown of the Tudors, the crown of the kings of France, the crown of the arrogant little banker-prince of Liechtenstein, and the crown of Poland. Such is life—silly hats cannot last forever, no matter how precious their manufacture or how blood-sodden their history. Considering this, it is strange that we have the crown of one of history’s most controversial monarchs—and that said infamous crown is somehow relatively obscure.
The Crown of Napoleon
Napoleon Bonaparte was one of history’s greatest conquerors. He needs no introduction, but I am going to give him a short biography anyway (ha). Bonaparte was a gifted soldier and political manipulator who rode the chaos of the French Revolution to national power at the end of the 18th century. As dictator of France from 1799 onward he proceeded to conquer most of Europe until he was defeated and permanently deposed in 1815. As ruler of France, Napoleon initially styled himself as “First Consul” but as his authority grew, he adopted the more nakedly authoritarian title of “Emperor of the French in 1804. For his coronation ceremony at Notre Dame, he needed an appropriate crown (since the traditional crown jewels of France had largely vanished during the revolution). Napoleon opted to use two crowns for the ceremony: the first was a plain gold laurel meant to evoke the imperial grandeur of ancient Rome. The second crown, however, was specially made for Bonaparte and it is this crown which still survives at the Louvre.
The Coronation of Napoleon (Jacques-Louis David, ca. 1807, oil on canvas)
The crown of Napoleon was made in mock-medieval style with eight half arches holding up a gold globe with a cross. The reason the crown is still intact and was not sold by the French state (or stolen by Prussians or Germans) is that the precious stones in the crown are not really that precious. Instead of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, the crown of Napoleon was set with shell cameos and carved carnelians. These carved pieces evoked the grandeur of ancient Rome (and followed the fashion of French empire) but did not compare with the huge gaudy gems which were popular for European crowns later in the 19th century. When Napoleon went to Saint Helena, his crown stayed in Paris, but subsequent Bourbon monarchs (and even Napoleon III) eschewed the crown for other royal symbols.
The Crown of Napoleon
History’s thieves, plunderers, and auctioneers all likewise ignored the crown regarding it as a fishpaste and gilt style prop rather than an actual precious relic. It can still be found in the Louvre, a bit threadbare but not substantially the worse for wear thanks to its handicraft “Etsy” aesthetic!
Turkey Sculpture (Jim Victor, butter)
I really love turkeys! Thanksgiving season is thus a happy time when the magnificent birds are celebrated in numerous forms throughout the American cultural landscape (although, admittedly, our national appreciation has a gastronomic thrust which can be somewhat inimical to individual turkeys). Longtime visitors to this blog will recall turkey-themed posts from Novembers past–such as a long list of turkey mascots, a story concerning escapees from the family farm, a comprehensive overview of turkey breeds, and the shocking explanation of how turkeys are capable of virgin birth (!). This year, we have already featured a discussion of the proud American tradition of turkey-themed characters in professional wrestling. However since I am not a professional wrestler (yet) but rather a visual artist, I thought I would also present a gallery of turkey sculptures made from various miscellaneous materials. The turkeys pictured here mostly come from a folk art tradition, so I could not always find the artist, date, and medium (although if you know such details regarding any of these works, I would love to hear about it), however I think you will agree that the sculptures are quite spectacular and diverse–just like America itself! Look at the turkey at the top made entirely of butter! Hopefully this little gallery will somewhat tide you over until Turkey Day next week, but, if not, don’t worry, Ferrebeekeeper will probably find material for another 2014 turkey post somewhere. Additionally, you can click the turkey category link on the menu to the left to see a whole slew of turkey posts (at least this is true on the PC, who knows about you tablet people?). Gobble gobble! Here is some weird art!
A metal turkey sculpture from Whidbey Island (via joyworks-shopgirl.blogspot.com)
The same sculpture from a different angle
Turkey sculpture by Carlomagno Pedro Martinez
A turkey crafted from legos, chocolate, and silverware
“Turkey” Artist unknown Photo by tim burlowski
steampunk turkey watch by IckyDogCreations
“Turkey Bot” Metal Assemblage Turkey Sculpture by Bruce Howard
Turkey Hay Sculpture at Lookout Bar and Grill
Thanksgiving Turkey Sculpture – Version 1
(design based on photo by Naomi Greenfield, Red Balloon Company) via globetwisting.blogspot.com
Turkey Sculpture (Philip Grausman, aluminum)
Thanksgiving Turkey Stuffed Soft Sculpture In Vintage Calico Prints Picture from Laurel Leaf Farm
Jack (Philip Grausman, 2006)
Folk Art Turkey Sculpture by Edith John (Navajo)
Sandstone Turkey (Ron Fedor)
Pierced Turkey Sculpture Raymor Italy
Big Turkey, Aneta, ND
In ancient Greece, one of the most universally popular symbols was the gorgoneion, a symbolized head of a repulsive female figure with snakes for hair. Gorgoneion medallions and ornaments have been discovered from as far back as the 8th century BC (and some archaeologists even assert that the design dates back to 15 century Minoan Crete). The earliest Greek gorgoneions seem to have been apotropaic in nature—grotesque faces meant to ward off evil and malign influence. Homer makes several references to the gorgon’s head (in fact he only writes about the severed head—never about the whole gorgon). My favorite lines concerning the gruesome visage appear in the Odyssey, when Odysseus becomes overwhelmed by the horrors of the underworld and flees back to the world of life:
And I should have seen still other of them that are gone before, whom I would fain have seen- Theseus and Pirithous glorious children of the gods, but so many thousands of ghosts came round me and uttered such appalling cries, that I was panic stricken lest Proserpine should send up from the house of Hades the head of that awful monster Gorgon.
In Greco-Roman mythology the gorgon’s head (attached to a gorgon or not) could turn those looking at it into stone. The story of Perseus and Medusa (which we’ll cover in a different post) explains the gorgon’s origins and relates the circumstances of her beheading. When Perseus had won the princess, he presented the head to his father and Athena as a gift—thus the gorgon’s head was a symbol of divine magical power. Both Zeus and Athena were frequently portrayed wearing the ghastly head on their breastplates.
Ancient Electrum belt buckle in the form of a gorgoneion
A Gorgoneion decoration on an Attic ceramic vessel from approximately 490 BC
Although the motif began in Greece, it spread with Hellenic culture. Gorgon imagery was found on temples, clothing, statues, dishes, weapons, armor, and coins found across the Mediterranean region from Etruscan Italy all the way to the Black Sea coast. As Hellenic culture was subsumed by Rome, the image became even more popular–although the gorgon’s visage gradually changed into a more lovely shape as classical antiquity wore on.
Hellenic Gorgoneion ornament
Gorgoneion from the House of Mosaics in Eretria (4th c. B.C.)
Roman Gorgon Mosaic from the first century AD
In wealthy Roman households a gorgoneion was usually depicted next to the threshold to help guard the house against evil. The wild snake-wreathed faces are frequently found painted as murals or built into floors as mosaics.
Gorgoneion mosaic found in Pompeii's House of the Centenary
Not only was the wild magical head a mainstay of classical decoration–the motif was subsequently adapted by Renaissance artists hoping to recapture the spirit of the classical world. Gilded gorgoneions appeared at Versailles and in the palaces and mansions of elite European aristocrats of the 17th and 18th centuries.
Rodela de la Medusa de Carlos V (Filippo y Francesco Negroli, Milán, 1541)
Carved Gorgon's head at Versailles
Gorgoneion (Thomas Regnaudin, ca. 1660, Carved wood)
Even contemporary designers and businesses make use of the image. The symbol of the Versace fashion house is a gorgon’s head.
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