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According to the twelfth-century poet, Hariri Maqamat, glass was “Congealed of air/Condensed of sunbeam motes/Molded of the light of the open plain/Or peeled from a white pearl.” Indeed, it is not difficult to believe that masterpieces of glass such as those in Glass of the Sultans could be made of ethereal means and not of humble earthly materials like sand and ashes. The magic of glass does not stop at the miracle of its genesis. Its entire history, starting with its earliest beginnings somewhere in western Asia and the Middle East some 3,500 years ago, reads like a fascinating tale spanning most ancient civilizations, continuing through medieval times to Renaissance Europe, and from there to the New World.

Glass of the Sultans features more than 150 glass objects spanning twelve centuries of Islamic glassmaking that represent all the principal types of pre-industrial glass from Egypt, the Middle East, and India. The objects have been selected from 19 public and private collections from around the world, some never exhibited publicly before. Glass of the Sultans has recently closed at the Corning Museum of Glass, but it opened recently at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, where it will remain until January 13, 2002. It will then travel to the Benaki Museum in Athens, where it can be viewed from February 20 to May 15, 2002.

Glassmaking is basically a conservative art, in which processes, techniques, and tools persist throughout the centuries. The most significant constant is the process for making glass itself, which essentially remains the same with only minor variations from place to place. Within the framework of this traditional art, the history of glassmaking has revealed that innovations constantly revitalized age-old practices. The invention of blown glass, developed in Roman Greater Syria in the first century BCE, was perhaps the most significant innovation, enabling glassware to be “mass”-produced. The blowpipe revolutionized production by freeing the creative genius of artists who had previously been limited by time-consuming methods such as winding hot glass around clay cores.

In the Islamic world, the most important innovations involved surface ornamentation, which is also the principal focus of this exhibition, which groups its treasures according to broad categories of decorating glass. For example, between the seventh and ninth centuries in Egypt and Syria, painted designs were executed in copper and silver oxide pigments, a process which, when completed, left transparent “stains” on the glassware ranging in tones from red to brown to yellow. The metallic sheen of their designs gave these pieces the common name of “luster-painted” ware, best referred to, however, as “stain-painted.” The origin of this method lies in third-to-fourth-century Egypt, evolving from the pioneering work of Coptic craftsmen. Two more techniques of decorating glass were brought to consummate levels in Islamic workshops, earning Islamic glass preeminence in the field and consequently world renown. The ninth- and tenth-century production of “cut and engraved” glasses built upon the tradition of glass cutting, especially of the Sasanian empire; the thirteenth- and fourteenth-century production of “gilded and enameled” objects became highly sought-after export items. Both techniques are given special emphasis in the show.

In an encyclopedic museum such as the Metropolitan, or at the Corning, which houses the world’s largest and most significant collection of glass objects, it is possible to experience the full spectrum of glassmaking. Nevertheless, a stellar comprehensive exhibition of Islamic glass such as Glass of the Sultans gives the visitor a great advantage. On the one hand, after the Muslim conquest, the glass industry continued to function more or less undisturbed, preserving all the techniques, shapes, and colors formerly employed in these regions and thereby creating a smooth transition between the glass of the ancient world and that of the Middle Ages. On the other hand, the ancient heritage of glassmaking, enriched by centuries of Islamic innovations, was passed on to Europe, which, in turn, advanced production to new heights. Thus, Islamic glass forms an all-important “bridge” between the two worlds, allowing for a continuum rarely seen in art. If one has limited time to get to know the history of glassmaking, Islamic glass offers both a sound understanding of ancient glass and a substantial base for appreciating modern achievements.

Glass of the Sultans was organized by Stefano Carboni, associate curator of Islamic glass at the Metropolitan Museum, and David Whitehouse, executive director of the Corning Museum. It is accompanied by a substantial catalogue, with several essays on the history of glass production in the Islamic world, the growth of interest in collecting and studying Islamic glass, the archeological excavations that have yielded important material, the chemistry and technology of Islamic glass (by Robert Brill), and a general survey of Islamic glass-working and glass-decorating techniques (by William Gudenrath). Eight more brief essays reflect the sections of the exhibition itself, each followed by catalogue entries.

In its first section, the exhibition introduces the visitor to the material with two cases, one didactic, containing tools and other glass-working implements, the other dazzling, featuring some very attractive examples that highlight the principal types of Islamic glass. Then, through the aid of informative panels and labels, one begins the journey of discovery, guided through the material by means of meaningful groupings or purposeful focal pieces indicating outstanding glasses. In the rather unassuming “Undecorated Blown Glass” section, one can admire the purity of pre-Islamic forms still in use. Nearby, there is a small section devoted to the three most important archeological sites to yield glass material: Fustat in Egypt, Samarra in present-day Iraq, and Nishapur in present-day Iran.

In “Mold-Blown Glass,” one can begin to appreciate the nascent inventive spirit of Islamic glassmakers who, early on, wished to go a step beyond the Roman practice of blowing a “gather,” or mass of molten glass, into a mold of one or more pieces. The Islamic innovation consisted of withdrawing the decorated glass, or “parison,” from a one-piece mold, reheating it, and continuing to inflate it. This allowed it to be further blown and tooled into a wider variety of forms, all of which retained the original mold pattern. In the section on “Hot-Worked Glass,” one can find a great variety of shapes, colors, and decorations, ranging from the early Islamic period to the thirteenth century, and from Egypt to central Asia, all with strong imprints of pre-Islamic glasses from the Roman, Egyptian, and Sasanian traditions.

As each section unfolds, there is a heightened sense of expectation. Certainly, “Mosaic Glass” is the first high point. Mosaic or “millefiori” glass has been made intermittently for 3,500 years. In the Islamic world, it seems that it was among the least common varieties even though it enjoyed a wide distribution from Egypt to Iran. Islamic examples differed from Hellenistic, Roman, and other ancient examples. The canes that were cut into slices and fused to make the objects have a bull’s-eye pattern with a circular spot at the center and concentric rings of other colors and/or patterns all around. The catalogue is a wonderful way to scrutinize the minuscule patterns of these precious pieces, but it distorts our perception of their relative size, most intact bowls measuring no more than two or three inches in diameter (5-8 cm). Also not included in the catalogue is a special piece recently acquired by the Metropolitan Museum: a ninth-century bowl from Syria or Iraq with a floral pattern of pinkish/reddish “roses” on a green background (2001.266). At 5 1/2 inches in diameter (14 cm), it has the distinction of being the largest intact example of a mosaic glass vessel.

In the next two sections of the exhibition are some of the finest glassware in the world, which bring to mind Hariri Maqamat’s description. “Cut and Engraved Glass” as a heading does not even begin to indicate the unbelievable delicacy with which glass was engraved and cut as if it were hard stone. Wheel-cutting, which was practiced extensively both by the Romans and their contemporaries, the Sasanians of Iran and Iraq, declined in the fourth or fifth century and scratch-engraving disappeared. Not only did Islamic glass artisans revive these techniques, but, by the eighth and ninth centuries, they brought them to new heights, which would not be matched until the seventeenth-century English and Bohemian cut “crystals.” It is difficult to single out pieces in this section, which comprises seven different techniques. Certainly, from the Metropolitan’s own collection, a deep blue scratch-engraved fragmentary plate (western Asia, ninth century, 40.170.131) and an almost colorless beaker, relief-cut with a frieze of palmettes (western Asia or Egypt, ninth to tenth centuries, 1974.45), are special. From the Corning Museum, a long-necked bottle, relief-cut with a frieze of three pairs of ibexes, is, unlike most other pieces, intact (western Asia, ninth to tenth centuries, 71.1.7), and the famous “Corning Ewer,” a glass version of similarly shaped and ornamented rock-crystal pieces from Egypt (western Asia or Egypt, ca. 1000, 85.1.1), is worth a long pause. This ewer is made of transparent light green glass decoration featuring birds and animals over a colorless background. It is a prime example of relief-cut glass in which, incredibly, both the background and most of the interior of the principal motifs have been removed by cutting and grinding, leaving the outlines and a few internal features in relief, a technique clearly derived from Roman cameo carving and cameo-glass carving.

Though several of the pieces assembled here display extraordinary skills and imagination, the section demurely designated as “Painted Glass” is undoubtedly the real coup of the show. The great majority of these works were decorated with a brush or pen in a most painterly fashion. After being painted, their designs were fired again in the kiln at appropriate temperatures that stabilized the pigments without affecting the previously fired shapes of the objects. Two major classes of painted glass were produced, both in Egypt and Syria: stained (mentioned above) and enameled and gilded, which was highly coveted throughout much of the world. If the former category resembled luster-painted pottery and perhaps even metalwork inlaid in copper, silver, or gold, the latter category evokes the preciousness of goldsmithing and jewelry.

In a way, the stain-painted ware is in danger of being bypassed too quickly, as its sparkling gilded and enameled neighbors beckon just around the corner. They are, nevertheless, among the most beautiful objects. Pieces like the Corning’s cup, inscribed with a blessing upon the person who uses it (Damascus, Syria, eighth century, 69.1.1), or the Metropolitan’s bowl, with stylized trees (Egypt, tenth to eleventh centuries, 1974.74), are very eloquent. This segment also demonstrates various other techniques of painting. One particular bowl (Egypt, ninth century, 99.1.1), also from the Corning, is quite unique. It features the image of a bird surrounded by fish and flowers. The bowl’s palette of colors changes depending on the direction of the light by which it is viewed. Under reflected light, cool hues of blue and golden yellow give the piece a sharp graphic quality, which disappears when the light is transmitted from the back and the designs acquire a fluid painterly quality, this time in warm earthy tones of golden yellow, purplish red, and orange-brown. (Press the light button to appreciate the dramatic changes.)

The largest section of the exhibition is devoted to glassware produced in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries in Ayyubid and Mamluk Egypt and Syria, decorated in a delicate and time-consuming method. Twenty-three pieces, many of them quite large, demonstrate the way glass vessels were painted in gold and/or enamel (opaque-colored glass reduced almost to a powder) applied by means of an oily medium and a brush or pen. Because gilt and the individual enamel colors have different chemical qualities, different temperatures were required to fix them permanently on a glass surface. Obviously, mastering the temperatures of wood-fueled kilns and correctly timing the successive firings were skills as crucial as those of a painter. Rightly so, such vessels were valued both in the Islamic world and abroad. In this segment, large, tall-necked bottles, such as the two nearly identical ones from the Metropolitan (41.150) and the Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon (2370), the Metropolitan’s footed bowl or tazza (91.1.1538), the “Gulbenkian Beaker” (2378), depicting a fantasy island replete with birds and insects, and the Furussiya Arts Foundation’s bottle with figural Christian subject matter, are complemented by six magnificent mosque lamps.

Mosque lamps of this period are practically the only dated objects of glass that we have. They also have the singular distinction (with few exceptions) of being the only Islamic glass bearing inscriptions with the names of those who commissioned them as donations to religious institutions. Although high-quality glass must have been used by the upper classes, it is an enigma as to why it did not enjoy much royal and courtly patronage, as other arts such as manuscript painting, ceramics, rock-crystal carving, and metalwork. Perhaps the title of the exhibition, Glass of the Sultans, was intended to rectify the original sultans’ omission.

The history of Islamic glass ends with the later Islamic empires: the Safavids, Zands, and Qajars in Greater Iran, the Mughals of the Indian subcontinent, and the Ottomans. Admittedly, late Islamic glassware is no match for that created under the great tradition of previous centuries, especially the tenth through the fourteenth. Still, there were beautiful objects being made at that late date, often influenced by European models, which the exhibition does well to include.

The exhibition reserves a surprise at the end with imitations of Islamic glass by European glassmakers. Fine Islamic glass in fact enjoyed two “afterlives,” attracting European attention in two broad periods. The first was in the late Middle Ages, when it was prized as the rare product of an exotic civilization, brought back by Crusaders and other travelers to be preserved in royal or church treasuries. The famous San Marco Bowl of opaque turquoise glass set in a Byzantine and western European gold-and-silver-gilt mount with enamels and gems is a prime example. The second period was after the mid-nineteenth century, when Islamic glass began to be seriously collected, studied, and imitated. By then, the heyday of Islamic luxury glass had long passed; already, by the late fifteenth century, Venice had secured the position of leading manufacturer of fine glassware in the world. Indeed, even Muslim patrons sought Venetian glass, as is testified by a mosque lamp in the show, decorated with gold and enamels in the Islamic manner and most probably made in Venice ca. 1500 (Kunstmuseum, Dusseldorf P1978-1).

After the Paris expositions of 1867 and 1878, which displayed medieval mosque lamps, and the Vienna world’s fair, which included two medieval enameled vessels, significant attention was kindled by Islamic glass. This went hand in hand with the contemporary vogue for things “Moorish” or “Oriental.” Subsequently, not only did scholarship and collecting of Islamic glass become a serious undertaking, but also European glassmakers (such as Philippe-Joseph Brocard in Paris, Emile Galle in Nancy, J. and L. Lobmeyer in Vienna, and Antonio Salviati in Murano) began to make more or less faithful copies or other imitations of Islamic glass, especially of the gilded and enameled types, and mosque lamps in particular. The show has examples of luxury glass from most of these manufacturers.

The growth of interest in Islamic art took place against the background of nineteenth-century European Orientalism. The case must have been different for Greeks, however. Anthony Benakis, the founder of the Benaki Museum, was born in 1873 in Alexandria, Egypt, at the time—like most of what would later become contemporary Greece—part of the Ottoman empire. He grew up in a cosmopolitan environment imbued with traditions of service and dedication to the Greek nation. He started collecting while still living in Alexandria, and settled in Greece in 1926. The museum was founded in 1930 but Benaki continued enriching its collections and supporting it financially until his death in 1954. In addition to the museum’s specific aim of representing the Greek spirit as comprehensively as possible, it was also intended to engage in open dialogue with other cultures, especially those that came into direct contact with the Greek world. Islamic artifacts play a crucial part of the Benaki’s collections, and they are soon to be housed in a separate building in Athens that will provide a suitable environment for these extensive holdings.

As regards Islamic glass, the Benaki has important examples from the ninth to the eighteenth centuries. According to curator Anna Ballian, Benaki himself was a fervent collector of this material, and the museum’s collection is one of the finest for the study of early and medieval examples of the art. The Benaki Museum was among the first institutions to promote this particular field by commissioning a catalogue from Carl Johan Lamm, the Swedish scholar considered to be the patriarch of glass studies, a work completed after Lamm’s death by Christoph Clairmont. Indeed, the Benaki Museum will be the only venue for this major exhibition in Europe.

Annie-Christine Daskalakis Mathews is an art historian; she has taught for several years and has a special interest in glass and eighteenth-century domestic architecture, both in the Islamic world and Europe.

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