Once cloned Tutankhamun’s tomb, who will be the next one?

The tomb of Tutankhamun was cloned. Before that, the caves of Altamira and Lexaut, and some important masterpieces of the Renaissance were also cloned. So the art world is getting populated with more and more copies yet indistinguishable from the original. Have we accessed the world of Blade Runner? If Walter Benjamin were alive, would he want to rewrite his famous 1936 essay “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”?

 

We do not know what the German philosopher would have thought if he had seen the completed replica of the Tomb of Tutankhamun (realized thanks to the Factum in Madrid Foundation and the Society of Friends of the Royal Tombs of Egypt of Zurich). But what we know is that this copy, full-size, is designed to preserve the original tomb. Due to the huge influx of tourists, the tomb has suffered more damage since it was discovered, about 90 years ago, than it has suffered in the 3000 previous years.

 

The “Blade Runner tomb” is now placed next to Carter’s House on the west bank of Luxor, waiting for the Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza to be completed. The Egyptian case is, however, nothing new. The breath and sweat of visitors are everywhere responsible for the alterations in the levels of humidity and temperature, and can cause the detachment of paint from the rocks. This is why the cave of Altamira, Spain, with its paintings of prehistoric times, was closed in the 70’s and was made a copy of it nearby (other copies were also made in Madrid, Monaco of Bavaria and Japan). The method of “mechanical reproduction” was then used as the basis for the copies of the caves of Lascaux in France and Niaux, which had to be closed too in order to protect the paintings.

 

What if someone now suggests to replicate the Sistine Chapel or the Scrovegni Chapel by Giotto? It might not be such a bad idea to make perfect copies of monuments that attract crowds of visitors. Both (the original and the copy) could actually be accessible to the public, but of course in different ways: on one side a waiting lists for non-dangerous visits to the originals, on the other a cheaper tickets for the copy. And after that you can certainly debate on the meaning of “the original” and “the copy”, or on the loss of the “aura” and the idea of fetishism linked to art.

 

Another interesting case is when art works, which do not have any particular problem of preservation as such, are in the “wrong” place. A famous example is that of “The Marriage of Cana” that Paolo Veronese was commissioned to paint in 1562 within the architectural complex designed by Andrea Palladio in the Island of San Giorgio Maggiore, Venice. Today the painting (6.70 x 9.90 m) can be found at the Louvre Museum in Paris. But, of course, seeing it there isn’t as fascinating as it would be in the location it was meant for.

 

In the refectory of the convent, its original spot the painting perfectly harmonised with the architectural context: the cornices and capitals of the painted temples seemed to ideally continue on the architectural cornice of the hall; the side windows enhanced the bright colours of the painting; its subject, a dinner, was in tune with the place itself. a refectory. It is indeed for this reason that a perfect copy of the work was put to replace the original one, so to fill a gap that would have otherwise left the whole scene incomplete.

 

The dream of every historian would be to review the works in the places for which they were actually born. However, as we have noticed so far, it is not always possible, due to different reasons – being part of the collection of a museum, safety measures, etc.. This is the point when the concept of facsimiles becomes a new opportunity: to a certain extent, a copy can return authenticity to a place that has lost it.

 

Here another instance that better illustrates the above mentioned thought. We refer to a painting (1390) by Agnolo Gaddi. This work was stolen in 1921, and found without the side elements (still missing). It was shown only once by the Uffizi Gallery, in 2009 (where it still is) just after the renovation funded in 2008 by Moretti Gallery in Florence. Since July, 13th 2013 a faithful reproduction of “Madonna and Child with Angels with Saints Andrew and Lorenzo” is back in the original chapel Alberti in the oratory of Saint Catherine of the Wheel in Bagno a Ripoli (Florence): the place it was initially meant for.

 

Whatever Walter Benjamin could have thought about the concept of copies today, it can’t be denied that these operations represent a success of both technique and culture. The art world is not made only of great works that draw a lot of visitors. There are plenty of little-known works which too deserve a huge crowd. If the facsimile may serve to raise awareness of these minor works, to recompose artistic and historical events of the past and to restore full dignity to forgotten places, then they are undoubtedly very welcome indeed.

July 15, 2015