Egyptian Art

This was also the moment when tomb biographies, however brief, became typical of tomb chapels – once again identifying owners with the king, the offering cult and Osiris. Not every official involved in this development was born to greatness: some attained greatness precisely through the king’s recognition. For instance, the lengthiest surviving Old Kingdom biography has come to us from the tomb of Weni (see p. 82), the first non-royal tomb to overlook the processional route of Osiris at Abydos. At the door to the tomb chapel, the man himself is shown speaking his own account of a career that began with him supervising the palace cloakrooms. This task he did well enough to become ‘elder of the robing-room’ for the king’s son, Pepy, and when the latter succeeded as king Pepy I, ‘his person put me in the position of companion and manager of his pyramid-town’. Weni remained the king’s confidant, and in six promotions moved from the fringes of the palace community to become the most powerful official in Upper Egypt. The first reward Weni asked of the king was a sarcophagus so ‘his person made a royal seal-bearer cross over with a troop of workmen under his command to fetch me the very sarcophagus from Tura, and it came with him on a great palace-barge, along with its lid, a false door, a lintel, two jambs and an offering-table’. Of course, this is just the paraphernalia of ‘Adoration’ that is likely to have made its way into a modern museum display.

Truly you do spend day and night arranging to do all your lord wishes and praises and commands. His person is going to reciprocate and establish your offerings so greatly and so excellently as to enspirit the son of your son through all time, so that all men, when they hear what my person has done for you, may say, ‘Is there anything such as was done for the sole companion Harkhuf, returning from Yam because of the vigilance he demonstrated in doing all that his lord wishes and praises?’

Once upon a time, the Step Pyramid of Djoser conveniently marked the beginning of the Old Kingdom, whereas now we understand that iconic monument in the context of ongoing developments in art, architecture and kingship that reach further back in history (see p. 49). Likewise the (relatively) puny pyramid of Pepy II once seemed to underline the final failure of the Old Kingdom, whereas now we may understand it too in the context of developments spanning the 5th Dynasty right through to the First Intermediate Period. The pyramids of this era are all much reduced compared with those of the 3rd and 4th Dynasties by one measurement (the mass of the tumulus) but greatly increased by another (the geographical and demographic scope of pharaonic funerary practice). This expansion of the offering cult is the appropriate context in which to understand the cruder, aspirational art of minor officials and local artists during the First Intermediate Period, or even during the late Old Kingdom for that matter. Initially the offering cult incorporated regional priests and officials such as Meryrahashtef (see p. 148) and Ty, then people of less or even no official distinction, such as Inyotef, Semin and Nun. In modern parlance, we are seeing the emergence of an aspirational middle class but, like Weni, they do not aspire to a worldly lifestyle so much as the earthly paraphernalia of ‘Adoration’. Such inclusivity expands from the heart of Egypt to its edges, and also from the Old Kingdom into the First Intermediate Period and beyond [126].

None of the above is meant to suggest that there was no political difficulty during the First Intermediate Period. The later traditions – like Shakespeare’s History of Richard III – were well founded in facts. While the kings of the 9th and 10th Dynasties still reigned, a rival dynasty set itself up in Thebes. For the first time since kingship had come to Egypt there was more than one king, and civil war ensued. Eventually, around 2000 BC, Montuhotep II (c. 2020–c. 1970), having been first ‘a’ king at Thebes, became ‘the’ king of all Egypt. Therefore, the conundrum for the history books is not only to explain how Egypt reached such political division but also to determine whether this situation characterized the First Intermediate Period as a whole. Most modern authorities assume the period between Pepy II, last king of the Old Kingdom, and Montuhotep II, all-conquering founder of the Middle Kingdom, was at least 150 years, and it would be unwise to assume that such a long time entailed unremitting strife and disorder.

The historical reality of kings from Heracleopolis is not in doubt. In terms of art and archaeology, an impressive cemetery of high officials of the era has been excavated at the city, taking the form of traditional stone-built mastabas in an area which is generally a low-lying plain [127]. The reliefs and paintings from the tombs are of a high quality and entirely traditional, as can be seen from examples now in the National Archaeological Museum in Madrid. Likewise, there is no doubting the reality of the ‘second’ kingdom at Thebes, least of all because of the magnificent tomb of Montuhotep II himself. His tomb is one of the most distinctive architectural creations of ancient Egypt, though its distinctive form has simply been caused by the ingenious device of piling the traditional elements of an Old Kingdom pyramid complex one on top of the other in order to accommodate the structure within a restricted bay in the Theban cliffs (see p. 44). Again the sculpture and decoration is of a high standard, not at all inconsistent with Old Kingdom models [128, 129]. In time, Montuhotep’s tomb would become a touchstone for the great monuments of the New Kingdom pharaohs – a model of royal architecture rooted in the past, in which later generations would find inspiration (see p. 206). So whatever might have been in dispute during Montuhotep’s lifetime, the basic tenets of Egyptian kingship, religious belief, art and architecture were not. Likewise, on the Theban stelae of Inyotef and Semin both are represented as loyal officials according to the conventions of the offering cult. The only question arising is, to which king were they loyal? At Thebes and at Heracleopolis traditional art and architecture persisted, adapting readily to local factors, and there is no indication that anybody renounced the artistic practices of the Old Kingdom at either royal city or anywhere else in Egypt.

The civil war, when it came, lasted at least two generations and a scene of Montuhotep II from a temple of Hathor at Gebelein may be the only example known from any era of a ‘smiting scene’ in which the king’s victim is another Egyptian [130]. However, this is still first and foremost an example of the ‘smiting scene’ – the most ancient depiction of the king, updated to the moment. Plausibly the war arose amid dynastic uncertainty following the ninety-four-year reign of Pepy II, who presumably outlived all his children, most of his grandchildren and no doubt a goodly portion of a third generation. Later in Egyptian history, uncertainty about the royal succession provoked political violence at the end of the 19th Dynasty and the end of the 20th Dynasty, and in both instances the problem can be traced back to the long reign of Ramesses II, who outlived his first twelve sons. The same uncertainty may explain the aftermath of the much longer reign of Pepy II and in such circumstances, whatever the politics may be, the cultural life of the nation is not likely to be at stake.

The point is that historical change is another of the topics that actually betrays the anxieties of the historian. Thus in the early 20th century Flinders Petrie, under the influence of Darwinism, explained the deterioration of the Old Kingdom by reference to racial miscegenation, while during the 1960s and 1970s explanations relied more on social tension and excessive government – then contemporary anxieties in Western politics. More recent explanations have tended towards climate change, or even ecological catastrophe caused by the Nile itself. In our new ‘lifestyle-centred’ century we may just as well question whether there was an end to the Old Kingdom at all, but rather an extended period of aspiration, wealth and increasing cultural homogeneity before a vicious war initiated the Middle Kingdom.

In terms of art history, this raises interesting puzzles. For example, today in the West we have more centralized government and immeasurably more wealth than ever before so will future archaeologists assess the success/failure of our times by emphasizing the proliferation in this century of new and bigger houses, or by emphasizing the sudden decline in building standards through reliance on cheap materials and slavish imitation of outmoded architectural forms? In the same vein, how should we understand the stela of a powerful and successful individual such as Indi, governor of Thinis [131]? There is the usual rough-and-ready art style and unusual phraseology characteristic of the First Intermediate Period, which describes him as ‘one who rose from the bottom of his father’s house through the strength of [the god] Onuris, ruler of Thinis, through desiring integrity and through desiring most perfect action’. Does this novel characterization and clumsy provincial artwork indicate an era of declining standards or does it illustrate the very social success he claims for himself? Or both?

In any event, Ankhtyfy’s tomb certainly fits the bill for his ‘gateway to the far side of the sky’ (see p. 100). In this context, we must understand that his reference to famine is rhetorical: what he actually says is, ‘All of the South may die of hunger, with people eating their own children, but death from hunger will never happen in this district.’ In other words, famine may happen – but not in his time. In fact, his was an era of surplus when, he claims, ‘It is my grain that has gone upstream and reached Wawat and gone downstream and reached Abydos.’ Ankhtyfy’s biography is a statement of unequivocal success, despite the localized political troubles that brought him to prominence – and, for that matter, the political misfortune about to befall his nation. He even employs an image of national unity amid regional diversity – he and the people of his southern hometown, Hefat, are the tail of a crocodile. ‘Therefore, if this band of Hefat is content, likewise this land is content; but, if it is trodden on, like the tail of a crocodile, then the North and South of this entire land will tremble.’ Of course, the head of a crocodile, when provoked, bites its opponent not its own tail. The tomb is a notable feat of engineering, beautifully decorated in a style that follows the conventions of the Old Kingdom and exemplifies the dynamism of regional art at this time. Either the success Ankhtyfy claims for himself as a leader and peacemaker during the First Intermediate Period is ably demonstrated by his tomb or, in the worst of times for his fellow Egyptians, he was the cruellest of tyrants and liars.

Masterpiece
Tomb of Sarenput II

135 General view of the hypostyle hall and shrine beyond in the tomb chapel of the governor Sarenput II. Qubbet el-Hawa, near Aswan. 12th Dynasty.

136 Closer view of the shrine of Sarenput II, including sunk statues of the tomb owner as Osiris.

Following the events of the First Intermediate Period, the Middle Kingdom saw a straightforward continuation of the artistic traditions of the previous millennium. While there was renewed emphasis on the size of the royal pyramid complex, cemeteries distributed widely throughout the regions also continued in use. Accordingly, the rock-cut tombs of the governors of Elephantine, far from the areas of the civil war, are among the finest surviving from the Middle Kingdom – alongside those of Sabni and Pepynakht and some of the most important and impressive tombs from the end of the Old Kingdom (see pp. 101, 252). Their large-scale and splendid decoration reflects the ongoing importance of the officials who controlled the southern border, where the Nile emerges out of an almost intractable granite cataract to become Egypt’s free-flowing highway. Beyond Aswan lay hostile deserts and barely civilized (as the Egyptians understood it) peoples in the oases and Nubia, while the importance of the region for the ivory trade is reflected in the Greek name Elephantine, whose Egyptian precursor likewise was Abu, ‘Ivory-town’. All in all, no other governors were more valued by the pharaohs nor more distant from Memphis.

The tombs are cut from a dense red, black and honey-coloured sandstone in the cliffs at Qubbet el-Hawa, whose aesthetic characteristics are shown to finest effect in the hypostyle hall of the tomb of Sarenput II, from the middle of the 19th century BC. Six columns cut directly out of the striated stone, smoothed and left undecorated, frame an elegant, austere axis approaching the offering chapel [135]. Accordingly the chapel immediately appears in front of an officiant entering the tomb, approached up steps after the manner of the chapel in any god’s temple. Three pairs of statues of Sarenput in the form of Osiris flank the narrow corridor connecting the hypostyle hall to the chapel, though they have been sunk into the living rock in relief so as not to obscure the view of the chapel [136]. Consequently, the chapel, painted so colourfully, is beautiful and utterly engaging when seen from the entrance, even in just the natural light. Moreover, the paintings in the corridor and the chapel are not only handsome but technically almost perfect, and in Chapter 7 furnished examples of the finest artists at work.