Father Pitt

Why should the beautiful die?


The Elgin Plasters

Dionysus, Demeter, and Kore
Dionysus, Demeter, and Kore.

Ever since Lord Elgin bought the Parthenon sculptures and other bric-a-brac on eBay in the early 1800s, there have been debates about whether the Turks had any right to sell them, and whether they really ought to be where they are (in the British Museum), or whether they ought to be back in Athens. The arguments are still going on, and the United Nations has tried to sort out the dispute to no avail.

But here they are in Pittsburgh, and no one has to have a fight about it, because these are plaster casts of the originals. They are almost indistinguishable visually from the original art, and they can be experienced in three dimensions like the originals, and you don’t have to cross the Atlantic to see them.

Dionysus, Demeter, and Kore

In the late 1800s, the world’s great museums had the idea that it would be good for people to be able to experience the great sculpture and architecture of the world in three dimensions, just as if it were in their own city. The craft of making plaster casts had been brought to a peak of perfection, and museums eagerly bought up these casts and formed large collections.

Then, as the twentieth century rolled on, the collections became mortal embarrassments. Art was valuable only if it was original, and plaster casts are not original. Only three of the great plaster-cast collections survive, and this is one of them. It is the only one that was never kicked out of its original home.

The Elgin Marbles

Museum curators are beginning to wake up to the value of these collections. From a visual point of view, the experience of viewing them is almost exactly the same as the experience of viewing the originals. An art student can sketch them from different angles, can observe how the shadows fall across the drapery, can crane her neck to look at the bits that aren’t visible in photographs.

Artemis
Artemis.

Father Pitt is sure that someone, somewhere, can find a reason for being angry about these plaster casts. But for most sane people, here are some of the remaining glories of classical art for you to enjoy guilt-free and without a passport.

Hestia
Hestia, whose usual epithet in Hesiod was Please Do Not Touch.


One response to “The Elgin Plasters”

  1. von Hindenburg

    Father Pitt’s overflowing faith in the basic sanity of both normal human beings or museum directors brings a tear to the eye.

    I could easily see a scenario where a global movement of museums to pressure the British and others into repatriating artifacts caused them to cover the plasters or take them off display in misguided solidarity.

    If nothing else, the replacement the displays of finely crafted antique furniture with more modern examples of ‘design’ (some of which are genuinely interesting and important, but most of which aren’t actually either usable objects or of any particular artistic or design merit) shows that the museum curators are more than willing to be rid of such things.

    Maybe they’ll create a gallery of the smells of patrons/’artists’ which we are told we must celebrate.

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