Iconicity Of Islamic Calligraphy

7/25/2019 Iconicity Of Islamic Calligraphy

1/14

The

iconicity

of Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

IRVIN

EMIL

SCHICK

Islamic

calligraphy

is

deeply polysemic.

At the

most

basic

level,

of

course,

it

mbodies

written

text,

and

as

such

expresses

symbolically

the

meaning?whether

literal

or

metaphorical,

denoted

or

connoted?of

that

text.

But

that

is

not

all.

As

a

highly

visual

art,

Islamic

calligraphy

sometimes

means

iconically;

and

as a

practice

that

is,

at

least

in

the Turkish

context,

intensely

imbricated

with

politics,

it

lso

means

indexically.

This

article

attempts

to

chart the

movement

of Islamic

calligraphy

among

these three

types

of

signs1

before,

during,

and

after

Turkey's

passage

from

empire

to

republic,

with

special emphasis

on

its

iconicity.

It

is

often said that

calligraphy

is

the

most

quintessential^

Islamic of all Islamic

arts,

and this

not

because

of

some

supposed

Islamic

iconophobia,

but

rather because of the intimate

relationship

between

theMuslim faith

and

the

written

text.2While

iconic

representation

is

usually

contrasted with

writing,

and the

two

are

thought

to

be direct

opposites,

written

text

can

sometimes

have

an

iconic?that

is,

pictorial?quality,

and

this is

especially

true

of

some

Islamic

calligraphy

(fig. 1).3A practice widespread among Sufis and Shi'ites,

though by

no

means

limited

to

them,

is

to

shape

calligraphy

into

figurative

images

ranging

from

mosques

and

everyday objects

like

ewers

and

oil

lamps,

to

animals

like

lions,

camels,

and

birds,

and

even

human

beings.4

Received

opinion

holds

that these

images

are mere

substitutes

for

"real"

pictures?surrogates

in

which

writing provides

the

artistswith

an

alibi,

an

accommodation of

sorts

to

the so-called "Islamic

prohibition

of

images."

But

form

often

deliberately

adds

a

new

layer

of

meaning

to

the

calligraphy,

and this

is

indeed the

principal

focus of this article.

Valerie Gonzalez has

distinguished

between works

of

pictorial

calligraphy

in

which the

image

dominates

the

text,

which

she calls the

"figural

or

representational

regime,"

and

those

in

which the

text

dominates

the

image,

which she calls the

"scriptural regime."

She

also

distinguishes

between those works of

pictorial

calligraphy

in

which

the

text

and

image

share

a

single

referent,

nd those

in

which their

referents

are

distinct.5

The

examples

I

discuss here

are

drawn from

each of

these

categories

and

will

demonstrate,

I

hope,

the

specific

"value-added"

iconicity

in

Islamic

calligraphy.

Writing

as icon

Let

me

begin

with

a

brief

discussion of

a

work

that

would

at

first

sight

appear

to

be

plain

text,

and

yet

is

perceived

and

treated

as

an

image. Figure

2

is

a

textual

representation

of

the so-called

"Seal

of

Prophethood,"

a

mark

between the

shoulders

of

the

Prophet

Muhammad

that is

taken

as

proof

of his

divine mission.6 What is

An

earlier

version

of this

paper

was

read

at

the

"Deus

(e)X

Historia"

conference

held

at MIT

on

April

26-28,

2007.

I

m

very

grateful

to

the

convenors,

Arindam

Dutta,

Mark

Jarzombek,

Caroline

Jones,

Erika

Naginski,

and Nasser

Rabbat,

for

their kind

invitation. I

would also

like

to

acknowledge

the

other

conference

participants,

as

well

as

the

audience,

for the

lively

discussion that

followed?and

particularly

Daniel

Bertrand

Monk,

for

his

perceptive

observation

that

the

changing

fortunes

of

Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

have

endowed

itwith

an

indexical

quality.

1. As will no doubt be clear tomany readers, I m

referring

here

to

the

"second

trichotomy

of

signs"

proposed by

Charles Sanders

Peirce?namely symbol,

index,

and

icon.

See

The

Collected

Papers

of

Charles Sanders

Peirce,

ed.

Charles Hartshorne and

Paul

Weiss

(Cambridge,

Mass.:

Harvard

University

Press,

1931-1958),

vol.

2,

??

247-249.

I

should

note

that

I

m

not

being

doctrinaire in

using

this

terminology, though

I

do find

it

onvenient.

2.

I

explore

this

point

in

some

detail

in

"Text,"

in

Keywords

for

the

Study

of

Islam,

ed.

Jamal J.

Elias

(Oxford:

Oneworld

Publications,

forthcoming).

3.

On

the

calligrapher

Mustafa

Rakim

Efendi

(1758-1826),

see

M.

Ugur

Derman,

Letters

in

Gold:

Ottoman

Calligraphy

from the

Sakip

Sabanci

Collection,

Istanbul,

trans.

Mohamed

Zakariya

(New

York:

The

Metropolitan

Museum

of

Art, 1998),

p.

98.

For

a

superb

example

of

his

work,

see

the back

cover

of the

present

issue.

4.

Such

calligraphic

pictures

have

been

studied

by

Malik

Aksel,

Turklerde

Dint

Resimler:

Yazi-Resim

(Istanbul:

Elif

Yaymlari,

1967).

Several

examples

appear

in

David

R.

Godine,

Islamic

Calligraphics

(London: The Merrion Press, 1976) and

Chaubey

Bisvesvar

Nath,

"Calligraphy,"

The

Journal

of

Indian

Art

and

Industry

16,

no.

124

(1913):31;

most

books

on

Islamic

calligraphy

also

contain

some.

I

have

analyzed

calligraphic

representations

of

the

human

body

from

a

Barthesian

viewpoint

in

"Writing

the

Body

in

Islam,"

Connect 3

(2001):44-54.

5.

Valerie

Gonzalez,

"The

Double

Ontology

of

Islamic

Calligraphy:

A

Word-Image

on

a

Folio

from the Museum

of

Raqqada

(Tunisia),"

in

M.

Ugur

Derman

65th

Birthday

Festschrift,

ed.

Irvin

C.

Schick

(Istanbul:

Sabanci

University,

2000),

pp.

313-340.

6.

On

the

calligrapher

Elhac

[al-hajj]

Mehmed

Fehmi

Efendi

(1860-1915),

see

M.

Ugur

Derman,

The Art of

Calligraphy

in

the

Islamic

Heritage,

trans.

Mohamed

Zakariya

and

Mohamed Asfour

(Istanbul:

IRCICA, 1998),

p.

241;

ibniilemin

Mahmud

Kemal

inal,

Son

Hattatlar

(Istanbul:

Maarif

Vekaleti, 1955),

pp.

92-93.


2/14

212

RES

53/54 SPRING/AUTUMN 2008

V

Figure

1.

Mustafa Rakim

Efendi,

calligraphic

picture

of

a

stork,

1223

a.h.

(1808

ce).

The

text

reads:

"In

the

name

of

God,

most

gracious,

most

merciful,

and

in

him.

. .

." The

sentence

is

incomplete,

but

usually

goes

on

to

say

"is

succor/'

Reproduced

fromMalik

Aksel,

Turklerde

Dint

Resimler:

Yazi-Resim

(Istanbul:

Elif

Yayinlari,

1967),

p.

77.

significant about the panel is the lower inscription, in

Turkish,

which

says,

inter lia:

The

benefit

of this

holy

seal

to

thosewho visit it ill be

as

follows:

To

thosewho look

at

it

n

the

morning, having

performed

their ritual

blutions,

it

ill lastuntil the

evening.

And

to

thosewho

look

at

it

t

the

beginning

of

the

month,

until the end

of

the

month. And

to

those

who

look

at

it

t

the

beginning

of the

year,

until the end of the

year.

And for

those

who look

at

it

hile

on

a

journey,

may

their

journey

be blessed.

And

those

who die

in

the

year

during

which

they

have looked

at

it

hall

die with faith.

At

the end

of the

text,

after the

signature,

are

the

customary

prayers,

including

asking

for

God's

forgiveness

for the

calligrapher,

for his

parents,

and "for all those

who look

at

it."

It

is

significant

that the verb

"to

read"

does

not

occur

once,

anywhere

on

the

panel.

Instead,

theword

nazar

(to

look)

recurs

time

and

again.

This

emphasis

on

looking

strongly

suggests

that the

panel

was

not

only regarded

as

written

text,

as

well

as

a

devotional

object,

but also

as

an

image.

After

all,

one

reads

text,

but

one

looks

at

an

image.

Indeed,

this

hypothesis

would

seem

to

be

borne

out

by

the occasional

practice

of

supplementing calligraphy

with

captions.

Beginning

in

the

eighteenth

century,

it

became

common

in

ttoman

devotional

manuscripts

to

include

a

section

in

which

a

series of

holy

names

(startingwith Allah and Muhammad, and often ending

with

the

Seven

Sleepers

and

their

dog)

would

be

placed

within

large

medallions,

one name

per

medallion

per

page.7

The

fact

that

these

medallions

are

literally

hors

texte

already

endows them with

a

certain

pictorial

quality,

but

there

is

more

to

it

than that.

In

many

cases,

the medallions

appear

below

(or

are

sandwiched

between)

a

caption

that

does

nothing

but

state

the

obvious.

For

example,

if

he

name

"Muhammad"

appears

in

the central

medallion,

then

the

accompanying

caption

might

say

something

like:

"This

is

the

name

of

His

Excellency

Muhammad,

may prayers

to

God

and

peace

be

upon

Him." If

he

name

in

the medallion

is

"Abu

Bakr,"

then the

caption

might

say:

"This is the name

of

His

Excellency

Abu

Bakr,

may

God be

pleased

with

him." This is

a

common

pattern

and

begs

the

question

of

why

the

captions

were

added

in

the first

place.

After

all,

if

ne can

read the

caption,

then

surely

one can

also

read

the

central medallion.

The

answer

to

the

puzzle

is that

the

caption

refers

in

fact

to

two

distinct

objects.

When

it

says:

"This,"

it

is

referring

to

the medallion below

it;

nd

when

it

says

"is

the

name

of

Muhammad,"

it

is

referring

to

the

proper

name

of the

Prophet.

In

other

words,

the medallion

is

not

identical

to

the

name,

it

is

an

image

of the

name.

It

is, infact,

an

icon. Indeed, inmany such books, virtually

identical

captions

accompany

pictures

in

the

ordinary

sense

of

theword?for

example,

images

of

holy

relics

such

as

the mantle of the

Prophet

or

his

footprint.

As

the

word for

"picture,"

resm,

is

very

similar

to

the

word for

"name," ism,

the

captions

both

look

and

sound almost

exactly

alike.

The

captioned

medallions

in

devotional books

are

related

to

the

genre

known

as

hilye-i

?er?fe

or

hilye-i

saadet,

invented

by

theOttoman

calligrapher

Hafiz

Osman

in

the

late seventeenth

century.8

These

are

word

portraits

of the

Prophet

Muhammad,

describing,

within

an

eminently recognizable

composition,

his

physical

and

7.

For

nice

examples,

see

Edwin

Binney

3rd,

Turkish Treasures

from

the

Collection of

Edwin

Binney

3rd

(Portland,

Ore.: Portland

Art

Museum,

1979),

pp.

139-140

(this

manuscript

is

now

at

the

Sackler

Museum,

Harvard

University);

Nabil

F.

Safwat,

Golden

Pages:

Qur'ans

and Other

Manuscripts

from

the Collection of

Ghassan

I.

Shaker

(Oxford:

Oxford

University

Press, 2000),

pp.

226-230,

268-275.

8.

On the

hi

lye,

see

Derman,

Letters

in

Gold

(note

3),

pp.

34-37;

M.

Ugur

Derman,

Turk

Hat

Sanatmm

}aheserleri

([Ankara]:

Kultur

Bakanhgi

Yaymlan,

1982),

plates

18, 19,

42,

47,

and

49;

FarukTaskale

and

Huseyin

Gunduz,

Hilye-i

?er?fe

in

Calligraphic

Art:

Characteristics

of the

Prophet

Muhammed

(Istanbul:

Antik

A.

?.

Kultur

Yaymlan,

2006).

On the

calligrapher

Hafiz

Osman

Efendi

(1642-1698),

see

Derman,

Letters

in

Gold

(ibid),

pp.

72-74;

Derman,

The

Art

of

Calligraphy

(note

6),

p.

221.


3/14

Schick: The

iconicity

f

Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

213

Figure2. ElhacMehmed Fehmi Efendi, alligraphic panel titled"Form

of the Seal of

Prophethood

of

Muhammad

the

Chosen

One,"

1309

a.h.

(1891-1892

ce).

Author's collection.

moral

attributes

(fig.

3).

With

slight

variations,

the central

medallion contains the

following

text:

[It

is

related]

from

Ali

(may

God be

pleased

with

him)

that

when

he

described

the

attributes f the

Prophet (may

prayers

to

God and

peace

be

upon

him),

he said:

He

was

not too

tall,

norwas

he

too

short,

he

was

of

medium

height

amongst

the

nation. His

hair

was

not

short

nd

curly,

nor

was

it

lank,

it ould

hang

down inwaves. His facewas not

overly

plump,

norwas

it

fleshy,

et

it

as

somewhat

circular.

His

complexion

was

rosy

white.

His

eyes

were

large

nd

black,

and

his

eyelashes

were

long.

He

was

large-boned

and

broad-shouldered.

His

torso

was

hairless

except

for thin

line that

stretcheddown his

chest

to

his

belly.

His

hands

and feet

were

rather

large.

When

he

walked,

he

would

lean forward

s

if

going

down

a

slope.

When

he looked

at

someone,

he would

turn

his

entire

body

towards him.

Between

his

two

shoulders

was

the

Seal

of

Prophethood,

and he

was

the last f the

prophets.

That these

panels

were

intended

as

portraits

is

clear

not

only

from the

descriptive

text

above,

but also from

the

fact

that the

components

of

the

panel

were

named

(from

top

to

bottom):

a?makam

(head

station),

obek (belly),

kusak

(belt),

and etek

(skirt).

Now,

the Arabic

word

hilyah

refers

to

the features

or

appearance

of

a

person,

and theOttoman

compounds

hilye-i

serife

(noble

hi

lye)

and

hilye-i

saadet

(felicitous

hilye)

denote the features

or

appearance

of the

Prophet

Muhammad. Tim

Stanley

has

suggested

thatwhile the

hilye

may

have

arisen

as

the

Muslim

counterpart

of the

Orthodox Christian

icon,

in

view

of

the fact that

a

figural

representation

of the

Prophet

would have

been frowned

upon

in

the

Sunni

tradition,

it

as

most

likely

inspired by

the

celebrated

poem

of the

sixteenth-century

Ottoman

poet

HakanT

Mehmed

Bey

known

as

Hilye-i

Hakan?

(the

hilye

of

HakanT).9

This latter

as

in

turn

based

on

9.

Tim

Stanley,

"From Text

to

Art Form in

the

Ottoman

Hilye,"

to

appear

in

Studies in

Islamic

Art

and

Architecture

in

Honor

ofFiliz

gagman

(forthcoming).

See also his

"Sublimated Icons:

The

Hilye-i

?erife

as an

Image

of the

Prophet,"

paper

read

at

the

21 st

Spring


4/14

214

RES 53/54 SPRING/AUTUMN

2008

Figure

3.

Hafiz

Osman

Efendi,

Hilye-i

$ertfe

(Word-Portrait

of

the

Prophet),

1109 A.H.

(1697-1698

ce)

Topkapi

Palace

Museum

Library,

.Y.1430.

Photograph

courtesy

of Faruk

Taskale.

a

possibly

spurious

tradition,

according

to

which the

Prophet

is

reported

to

have said:

Whoever

sees

my

hi

lye

after

me

is

s

though

he

has

seen

me.

And whoever

is

true to

me,

God

will

spare

him the fire

of

Hell,

and he will

not

experience

the trials f the

grave,

and

he

will

not

be driven

naked

on

the

Day

of

Judgment.10

If

afiz

Osman did indeed

draw his

inspiration

from

the

Hilye-i

Hakani,

then he created

his

hilye panels

primarily as objects of contemplation: "whoever sees my

hilye/'

were

thewords

reportedly spoken

by

the

Prophet,

not

"whoever reads

my

hilye."

Once

again,

then,

the

hilye

is

meant not

so

much

to

be

read,

as

to

be

seen.

As

such,

it is

n

image,

albeit

one

made

up

of

plain

text.

(It

has been

noted,

incidentally,

that the

composition

of the

hilye

bears

some

resemblance

to

the

ground

plan

of

an

Ottoman

mosque;11

whether

or

not

this

was

intentional,

and,

if

o,

what that

might

mean,

remains

to

be

determined.)

Peircean

iconicity

Figure

1

is

unmistakably

a

picture,

and

figures

2

and

3

are

essentially plain

inscriptions

that

present

themselves

as

images.

In

none

of these

examples,

however,

does the

form of

the

writing

echo

its

meaning.

Thus,

for

example,

the

stork

by

Mustafa Rakim

illustrated

in

figure

1

spells

out

the formula:

"In

the

name

of

God,

most

gracious,

most

merciful" with

which Muslim

believers

begin

every

task,

and

which

obviously

has

nothing

whatsoever

to

do

with storks.On the other

hand,

there

is

another

well-known

calligraphic

stork,

this

one

designed

by

an

Ottoman

calligrapher

named

Abdulgani

in

1763,

where

the

text

forming

the bird

is

a

couplet

about

a

certain

dervish known inhis day as "Seyyid Hasan Leylek

Dede."12

Here,

"Hasan"

was

the dervish's

given

name,

"Seyyid"

is

a

title

denoting

the fact that he

was

a

direct

descendent

of the

Prophet,

and

"Dede" indicates

his

rankwithin the

dervish order

to

which he

belonged.

As

for

"Leylek,"

it is

Turkish

for "stork" and

was a

nickname

that he

reportedly

earned

because he

was

very

tall and

lanky.

The

poem

that

composes

the

image

celebrates

the devotion

of this dervish

to

his

master,

the thirteenth

century

patron

of the order

of

whirling

dervishes

Mawlana

Jalaluddin

Rumi. What

is

most

important

here

is

that the

text

and the

image

are

related

at

a

very

basic

level. The

text

speaks

of

a

dervish

known

by

the

nickname "the Stork," and it isalso

shaped

likea stork.

In

the words

of

Gonzalez,

in

this

example,

text

and

image

share

a

single

referent.

Symposium

of

Byzantine

Studies

on

"The

Byzantine

Eye:

Word

and

Perception/'

University

of

Birmingham,

March

21-24,1987.

On

the

poet

Hakani

Mehmed

Bey

(d.

1606),

see

E.

J.

.

Gibb,

A

History

of

Ottoman

Poetry

(London:

Luzac &

Co.,

1900-1909),

vol.

3,

pp.

193-198,

where

the

name

is

transcribed

Khaqanv,

Bursali Mehmed

Tahir

Bey,

Osmanh

Muellifleri,

ed.

A.

Fikri

Yavuz

and

ismail

Ozen

(Istanbul:

Meral

Yaymevi,

1972?-1975),

vol.

2,

pp.

171-172.

10.

[Hakam

Mehmed

Bey], Hilye-i

Hakani

([Istanbul:

Tabhane-i

Amire],

1264

a.h.

[1848 ce]), p.

12.

11.

Stanley,

"From Text to Art Form"

(see

note

9)

in

which

a

suggestion

to

this

effect

by

Gulru

Necipoglu

is

acknowledged.

12.

See

A.

Suheyl

Unver,

Leylek

Dede /Dede Stork

(Istanbul:

ismail

Akgun

Matbaasi,

1958);

?ahabettin

Uzluk,

Mevlevilikte

Resim,

Resimde Mevleviler

(Ankara:

Turkiye

Is

Bankasi Kultur

Yaymlan,

1957),

pp.

67-68.

Unfortunately,

these

two

publications

give

radically

different

information about

the work and

the artist. The stork

has been

reproduced

numerous

times

and

appears

in

several

books,

for

example

in

Aksel,

Turklerde

Dint

Resimler

(see

note

4), p.

78.


5/14


6/14

216

RES 53/54

SPRING/AUTUMN

2008

:

^^^^

i

Figure

5a.

Elhac Mehmed Nazif

Bey,

calligraphic

panel

on

the

virtues

of theBasmala, 1319 a.h. (1901-2 ce). Author's collection.

Interestingly,

orks of Islamic

calligraphy

that

are

iconic in

this

particular

sense

are

not

limited

to

figurative

pictures

such

as

those of birds and animals.

There

are,

once

again,

examples

of

plain

text

in

which

iconicity

is

present,

albeit

in

an

extremely

subtle

way.

Figure

a

shows

magnificent

iece

of

calligraphy

y

Elhac

Mehmed Nazif

Bey,18

composed

of

a

short

poem

in

urkish

extolling

the

virtues

of the formula

"In

the

name

of

God,

most

gracious,

most

merciful,"

known

in

abbreviated form

as

the Basmala

or

Bismillah.

This

formula is

very

important,

in that

by reciting

it, he

believer invokes the

name

of God

upon

undertaking

any

task.

Indeed,

there

is

a

saying

attributed

to

the

Prophet,

to

the effect that

any

action

not

initiated

by reciting

this

formula

is

doomed

to

fail.19 he

poem

is

f

no

great

literary

alue,

and reads

as

follows:

Figure

5b. Detail from he

panel

in

Figure

5a.

As

soon

as

Sultan Bismillah

raises

his

flag

The

angels

become the

pillars

of

the

court

of Bismillah

Interpret

ts

equator

as

the

Sirat-i

Mustakfm

The short

route

of

Bismillah leads towardsGod

Before

discussing

the

calligraphy,

let

me

note

that the

phrase

al-$irat

al-Mustaqrm,

or

"the

straight path,"

appears

in

the

very

first

chapter

of the

Qur'an,

and

is

taken

to

mean

the

true

faith,

that

is,

Islam.

In

addition,

however, Sufis believed that there is bridge by this

18. On

the

calligrapher

lhac

[al-hajj]

Mehmed Nazif

Bey

(1846-1913),

and

on

this

panel

in

particular,

see

Derman,

The

Art

of

Calligraphy

(note

6),

pp.

242-243;

also

see

Derman,

Letters

in

Gold

(note

3),

p.

152.

19.

See,

for

example,

Jalal

at-Dm Abu al-Fadl

'Abd

al-Rahman ibn

Abf Bakr

al-SuyutT,

al-Jami'

al-saghlr

min

hadlth al-bashlr

al-nadhlr,

kaf:

233.


7/14

Schick: The

iconicity

f

Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

217

name that every person is required to cross afterdeath; it

is

"thinner than

a

hair and

more

trenchant than

a

sword,"

in

the

words

of the

poets,

and

those who fail

to

reach the

other side fall

down

into

the eternal fires of Hell.

Those

who

can

cross

the

bridge,

on

the

other

hand,

reach the

side

of

God.

In

the

poem,

a

visual

analogy

is drawn

between

the

bridge

of

$irat

and the

words

Bismillah,

as

I

will

now

attempt

to

explain.

Figure

5b

shows

a

close-up

of thewords Bismillah

in

the first

line of the

poem.

Here,

bismi,

or

"in

the

name,"

is

shaded

horizontally,

and

Allah,

the

proper

name

of

God,

vertically.

Together,

these

two

words read bismillahi

and

mean

"In

the

name

of

God,"

the

beginning

of

the

Basmala formula. The

poem

plays

on the

lengthened

arc

in

thewords bismi.

In

an

ordinary

text,

these

words

would

be

written

with

a

short

arc;

however,

calligraphers

traditionally

lengthened

the

arc

when

writing

this

particular

formula. Such

lengthened

Basmalas

are

very

common

and

are

termed oklu Besmele

(Basmala

with

arrow)

in

Turkish.

With

its

lengthened

arc,

which

the

poet

qualifies

as

an

"equator,"

the

formula is likened

to

the

bridge

of

$irat,

which,

going

from

right

to

left,

leads

straight

to

Allah.

So

we

have

here

a

bit of

visual

iconicity.

The

formula

Bismillah

leads

the believer

to

God,

and

it

actually

looks

like the very bridge over which the believer is to reach

God

in

the

afterlife.

Moreover,

in

the last

linewhere

the

poem

refers

to

the

Basmala

as

a

"short route"

that

leads

to

God,

the

calligrapher

has shortened

the

arc,

so

that

once

again

the form of

the

writing

echoes the

meaning

of

the

text

itself.

Another

example

of

visual

iconicity

in

Islamic

calligraphy

appears

in

Figure

6a,

a

panel

by

the

great

Ottoman

calligrapher

Mehmed

?efik

Bey.20

Why

it

is in

the form

of

a

pear,

I

do

not

know.21

What

I

want

to

stress

is

a

bit

more

subtle.

The

text

says:

"Mercy

Ali, Fatima,

Hasan,

Husayn,"

that

is,

it

ddresses itself

to

Islam's

equivalent of the "Holy Family": the Prophet's daughter

Fatima,

his son-in-law

AM,

and

his

two

grandsons

Hasan

and

Husayn.

(In

fact,

the

name

of the

Prophet

himself

is

also hidden

in

the

composition,

as

theword

aman,

mercy,

is

numerologically equivalent

to

the

name

Muhammad.)

In

Figure

6b,

the first letter f

the

name

AN,

the

Arabic

'ayn,

is

shaded

vertically,

and the

first

letter

f

the

name

Fatima,

fa,

horizontally.

What

is

interesting

is that the

name

of the first

letter

f

Ali

is

a

homonym

of the

Arabic

word for

"eye."

Furthermore,

there

is,

in

both Arabic and

Turkish,

the

expression

"to

be

in

someone's

eye,"

which

means

to

be

loved,

to

be

esteemed,

to

be

valued.

So

by

placing

Fatima

into the

'ayn/eye

of

Ali,

this

inscription

is

in

fact

giving

the

message

that the

Prophet's

daughter

was

greatly

beloved

and

esteemed

by

her

spouse,

the

Caliph

Ali.

Visually,

the

calligraphic composition

makes

Fatima

"the

apple

of Ali's

eye"?an expression

that has

the

same

meaning

in

Turkish

(Ali'nin

goz

bebegi)

as

it

oes

in

English.

A

clever visual

pun,

then,

that

was

imitated

by

several

later

calligraphers,

and another nice

instance

of

visual

iconicity.

Many

more

examples

could be

given

in

support

of

the claim

that

compositions

made

up

of

Arabic

letters

can

be iconic

in

both the

general

and the Peircean

sense. These examples are perhaps not "typical" of

Islamic

calligraphy,

but

they

do

represent

a

subset

of

some

significance

and show

the

degree

of semiotic

sophistication

that the

art

sometimes

reached,

particularly

in

ttoman

Turkey.

The

Republican

rupture

As

Umberto Eco

has

noted,

icons

are

culturally

coded.22

For

readers of

the

present

article who

are

not

Islamicists,

I

suspect

this fact

has

been

driven

home

all

the

more

clearly by

the

myriad

references

to

which

I

have

alluded

in

order to

expose

the

iconicity

of

the

calligraphies; without those references, thesewould

just

have

been

plain

inscriptions?or,

worse,

indecipherable

scribbles.

It

is

this

culturally

coded

nature

of icons

that

I

wish

to

underscore,

as I

now

move

from

the

Ottoman

Empire

to

the

Republic

of

Turkey,

that

is,

to

the nation

state

that

emerged

from

the

ashes of

the

Ottoman

Empire

and

set

its

eyes

firmly

n

the

path

of

westernization.

This

path

deliberately

severed

Turkey's

historical

connections

with its

imperial

predecessor

and

thereby

altered

the

20.

On

the

calligrapher

ehmed

?efik

Bey

(1820-1880),

see

Derman,

Letters

in

Gold

(note

3),

p.

122;

Derman,

The Art of

Calligraphy

note

),

pp.

233-234

21.1

should

point

out

that

?efik

Bey

wrote

several

pear-shaped

panels;

perhaps

he

just

iked

hefruit?or

ther

examples

signed

by

him,

see

Heath

Lowry,

"Calligraphy?Husn-i

Hat" in

Tulips,

Arabesques

&

Turbans: Decorative

Arts

from

the

Ottoman

Empire,

ed.

Yanni

Petsopoulos

(New

York:

Abbeville

Press,

1982),

p.

179;

Hiiseyin

Gunduz

and

FarukTaskale,

Dancing

Letters:

A

Selection of

Turkish

Calligraphic

Art

(Istanbul:

Antik

A.

?.

Kultur

Yaymlan,

2000),

p.

83.

A

lovely

decoupage

version

(this

one

signed

by

the cut-out

artist

but

not

by

?efik

ey

himself)

s in

Rogers,

mpire

f

the

ultans

note

13),

p.

266.

22.

Umberto

Eco,

A

Theory

of

Semiotics

(Bloomington:

Indiana

University

Press,

1979),

pp.

191-217.


8/14

218 RES 53/54 SPRING/AUTUMN 2008

Figure

6a.

Mehmed

?efik

Bey,

calligraphic

panel

with the

names

"Mercy

Ali, Fatima,

Hasan,

Husayn,"

1292

a.h.

(1875

ce).

Author's

collection.

Figure

6b.

Detail from he

panel

in

Figure

6a.

cultural matrix inwhich the icons Ihave been describing

had

operated.

Soon

after the

Republic

was

proclaimed

in

1923,

the

new

regime

convened

a

commission

to

study

a

vexing

question

that had

generated

considerable

controversy

over

the

preceding

decades,

namely

the

issue of

abolishing

Arabic

script

and

adopting

Latin

script

in its

stead.

The

revealing

cartoon

in

figure

7

was

published

in

1926,

as

the debates continued.

The

caption

says:

"Off

with

you

Go

join

the

ruins

of the

Monarchy "

Since the

original

image

is

in

black

and

white,

it is

impossible

to

determine whether

the

shading

on

the face of the

man

on

the

right

was

meant to

indicate that he

is

blushing,or?more

likely?if

this

was a racist

reference

to the Arab

("darkie"

in

colloquial

Turkish)

origins

of

Arabic

script.

Certainly

his handlebar mustache

was

meant to connote

unfashionable,

"oriental"

grooming,

as

opposed

to

the

new

clean-shaven,

Western

look of the

time.

In

1928,

the

government

officially

announced that

Latin

script

would henceforth be used

in

the

Republic

of

Turkey;

indeed,

publishing

Turkish works

in

Arabic

script

was

actually

criminalized.

A cartoon

published

that

very

year

in

the

daily

Ak?am,23

was

subtitled "h/cref"?the

Turkish

pronunciation

of the Arabic word

hijrah,

which denotes the

Prophet's

migration

from

Mecca

to

Madina in the year 622. Irreverentlymaking light f this

momentous

occurrence

in

Islamic

history?the

very

event

that

became the

starting

point

of the

new

Islamic

calendar?the

cartoon

shows

an

anthropomorphic

Arabic

letter

wearing

the fez?another

rejected

relic of

the

Ottoman

past?leading

a

long

procession

of Arabic

letters,

leaving

modern

Turkey

for

an

undetermined,

presumably

eastbound,

destination.

Another

cartoon

published

in

1928

in

the

daily Cumhuriyet,24

then the

semi-official

mouthpiece

of

the

Kemalist

administration,

appeared

the

day

before the

obligation

to

use

Latin

script

went

into

effect,

and

depicted

a

very

angular

car

speeding

past

a

very

cursive

camel

sporting

the Arabic

letter al, the first letter f the Turkish word forcamel,

deve.

It

as

situated

atop

the

following

text:

The differencebetween

Arabic

letters,

hich

we are

burying

today,

nd theTurkish letters hat

we

shall

start

using

tomorrow,

is

s

big

as

thatbetween

a

camel

and

a car.

Just

as

the

camel,

which

comes

fromthe deserts of

Arabia,

is

the

symbol

of

primitivity,

ackwardness,

and

sluggishness,

23. This

cartoon

has been

reproduced

in

Cuneyd Emiroglu [pseud,

of

Kadir

Misiroglu],

islam

Yazisma Dair

(Istanbul:

Sebil

Yaymevi,

1977),

p.

71.

24.

Both the

cartoon

and the

accompanying

text

are

reproduced

in

ibid.,

p.

46.


9/14

Schick:

The

iconicity

f

Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

219

Figure

7.

Cartoon

published

in

1926

in the

humor

magazine

Akbaba.

Reproduced

from

Cuneyd

Emiroglu [pseud,

of

Kadir

Misiroglu],

islam

Yazisma

Dair

(Istanbul:

Sebil

Yaymevi,

1977),

p.

21.

so

is

the

car,

which

we

have taken

from

the

West,

the

emblem

of

progress,

civilization,

and

speed...

.The camel

brought

pilgrims

to

the Kaba

in

rder for them

to

fulfill heir

obligation

to

perform

the

ha]].

The

car

will

bring

our

nation,

which

is

thirsting

or

progress

and

advancement,

to

the

Kaba

of

civilization.

One

might

think

that this

absolutely

remarkable

statement,

which

so

unselfconsciously

seeks

to

replace

Islam

by

a

new,

secular

religion

of

progress

centered

in

the

West,

was an

aberration?little

more

than

enthusiastic

hyperbole

understandable,

perhaps,

in

the climate of

revolutionary

fervor that followed the

establishment

of the

Republic

of

Turkey.

Yet

a

book

cover

designed

and

published

as

recently

as

2006

depicts

an

hourglass

in

which the

passage

of time is

expressed

not

as

the flow of

sand,

but

as

the

morphing

of the

Arabic

letters

in

the

upper

chamber into Latin

letters

in

the lower

one 25 This is

as

eloquent

a

representation

of

the

meaning

of Arabic

script

in

modern

Turkey

as

one

could

imagine:

Arabic

letters

signify

the

past,

the

Orient,

backwardness,

sessility, political

reaction.

Little

wonder,

then,

hat he

1928

photograph

y

Jean

einberg

(fig.

)

depicting

the founder

and first

president

of the

Republic

of

Turkey,

Mustafa

Kemal

Ataturk,

teaching

citizens Latin

script

became

one

of

the

most

celebrated

and

widely

recognized

icons of

the

young

nation-state.

Calligraphy today

So what

happened,

one

might

wonder,

to the art of

calligraphy,

so

rich

and

widely practiced

during

the

Ottoman

period

and

so

laden with

layers

and

layers

of

meaning,

after

Turkey

adopted

Latin

script?26

It is

live

25.

The

cover

in

question

appeared

on

the second

edition of

Recep

?enturk,

islam

Dunyasmda

Modern

lesme

ve

Toplumbilim:

Turkiye

ve

Misir

Ornegi

(Istanbul:

iz

Yaymcilik,

2006).

The title

translates

as

"Modernization

and

Sociology

in

theMuslim

World: The

Case

of

Turkey

nd

Egypt/'

26. A

questiort

that

might

pose

itself is

whether

or

not

Latin

script

has

to

any

degree replaced

Arabic

script

as

a

medium for

beautifully

written

religious

(and

other

public)

texts.

Though

a

small

number of

calligraphers?notably

Emin

Barm,

Savas

?evik,

and

Etem

?aliskan

(the

first

two

of

whom

were

classically

trained

in

Arabic-script

calligraphy

as

well)?have

done

considerable work

along

these

lines,

overall

Arabic

script

remains

the

medium

of

choice.

On this

point,

I

wrote

some

time

ago:

"The

holy

mission

with

which

Arabic

writing

is

...


10/14

220

RES

53/54

SPRING/AUTUMN

2008

Figure

8.

Jean

einberg,

Mustafa

Kemal

Ataturk

teaching

Latin

script,

1928.

Reproduced

from

Jean

Weinberg,

Gazi'nin

Eseri

(Istanbul:

Published

by

the

photographer,

1933),

unpaginated.

and

well

today,

ut

it

as

had

to

go

through good

deal

of trials and

tribulations

over

the

decades,

and its

meaning

now can

be

very

different

from

its

meaning

a

century

ago.

To

be

sure,

there

always

existed

in

the

Republic

of

Turkey

a counter-culture, and a counter-elite to go with

it,

hat

continued

to

value

calligraphy

as

well

as

other

arts

inherited from

the

Ottoman

period.

They

patronized

those

calligraphers

who

did

not

abandon

their

craft,

published

books

and

articles,

and

assembled

large

and

precious

collections

of

original

works.

But

to

do

so

without

being

stigmatized

as

political

reactionaries and

enemies of

modernity, they

had

to

cloak their

passion

in

the

appropriate

garb.

Thus

emerged

the idea

that

in

this

modern age, calligraphy isnot to be read, but rather to

be

enjoyed

as

a

form of abstract

art.

The

painter

Nurullah

Berk,

who

was

born

in

1906 and therefore

surely

knew

well

how

to

read Arabic

script,

said that

artists such

as

Kandinsky,

Klee,

Hartung,

and

Miro

had "extracted

new

linear

forms and

compositions

fromArabic

letters"

and thus

that

"calligraphy,

which

was a

most

influential

art

form

in

theMuslim

East,

has been embellished

by

European

artistswith

various

and

rich

examples

of

abstract

expression."

He

concluded

that

"[i]t

is

no

longer

necessary

to

read and

understand

these

inscriptions.

Writing

has become

picture,

and

what

concerns

us

charged

has

in

turn

endowed

it

ith

a

special

status in

Islamic

culture:

the

script

that

preserves

the word

of

God

is

perceived

as

a

Godly

script.

In

this

regard,

the

identification

of

Arabic

script

with

the

religion

of Islam

is

profound

and

perhaps

unequalled....

By

symbolizing

Islam,

Arabic

writing

becomes

a

metonym

for

the divine

order,

for the

connection between

God and

His creation."

Schick,

"Writing

the

Body

in

Islam"

(see

note

4).


11/14

Schick:

The

iconicity

f

Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

221

in them is theirmelodic and musical lines, the plastic

appearance

of

their

compositions/'27

An

apparently

apocryphal

story

also

began

to

circulate around

that

time,

according

to

which,

upon

seeing

a

work of

Islamic

calligraphy,

Picasso had

exclaimed:

"This iswhat

I

have

sought

to

achieve

my

entire life.

his is

true

modern

art."

The

publisher

?evket

Rado,

a

conservative intellectual

who

accumulated

the

largest

private

collection

of

Ottoman

calligraphy

in

the

world,

quoted

this

statement in

his

book,

and

wrote:

It

has

now

become clear

that

the

art

of

Islamic

calligraphy,

which

was

for

long

time

regarded

as

merely

the

craft

f

beautiful

writing,

is in

fact

magical pictorial

art

that

was

born

more

than

a

thousand

years ago

and

evolved

in

totally

mystical

context.

Today,

western

critics

view

it...

as

an

art

of abstract

painting

that

must

be

taken

seriously.28

In

all these

statements

by

authoritative Turkish

artists

and

critics,

the

role of

time

is

extremely

noteworthy. They

all

say,

essentially,

that

calligraphy

used

to

be

writing,

but

now

is

abstraction,

that

it

used

to

be

read,

but

now

is

only

to

be

contemplated

visually.

What

they

did

thereby

is

to

exaggerate

the

pictorial quality

of

calligraphy,

but

entirely

deny

its

iconicity,

that

is,

its

role

as

sign.

Or

perhaps

to

redefine

it

s

the indicator/index

of

an

Eastern

creative

genius

that had

discovered

abstract

art

before

Europe

had done so?the East as more Western than the

West itself.

Over

time,

this

attitude has

changed.

The cultural

moment to

which

it is

customary

to

refer

s

"the

postmodern

turn"

in

Europe

and North America

has

taken

different

forms

in

societies

outside

the

Western

metropoles,

but

they

have

certainly

all shared

many

common

elements:

a

loss of

confidence

in

the

metanarrative of

modernism;

cultural

atomization;

proliferating

experimentation

and

bricolage

with

non-mainstream

cultures;

an

inward

turn

inspired

by

communalism, nativism,

and

spirituality;

and

a

growing

interest

in

detemporalized history

as

part

of

an

eternal

present.

In

this

context,

calligraphy

was

suddenly

driven

back

into

prominence,

but,

in

the

absence

of

a

single

dominant culture, it ame to be infusedwith widely

different

meanings by

different cultural

communities.

On

the

one

hand,

collecting

Ottoman

antiques,

and

calligraphy

in

particular,

became

a

class

signifier

for

the

newly

affluent

strata

that

emerged

as

a

result of

the

laissez-faire

policies

of the

1980s

and

1990s.

The

core

of

the

economically

and

culturally

dominant class

had

been

slowly

shifting

throughout

the second half

of the

twentieth

century,

as

remnants

of

the

late

Ottoman

and

early republican

elite,

concentrated

mainly

in

the

largest

cities

(particularly

Istanbul),

were

gradually

swept

aside

by provincial

upstarts.

By

the

1990s,

these

new

multimillionaires

and

even

multibillionaires had reached

the

top

of the economic

ladder,

but

they

seemed to feel

a

certain

malaise?a need for

roots

and

even

legitimacy.

This

they

found

in

ttoman

antiques.

Photographs

of

such families

in

their

mansions,

surrounded

by

Ottoman

opulence

in

the

shadow

of

calligraphic panels

hit

the tabloid

press

daily

(fig.

9).

For

these

generally

conservative,

but for the

most

part

secular

collectors,

calligraphy

was

not

a

matter

of

religion

but of

heritage.

It

as

their

ticket

to

a

glorious

past,

not

unlike

wealthy

European

commoners

who

purchased

titles from

impoverished

aristocrats.

It

hould

come

as no

surprise

that

most

of

these

super-rich

collectors made

no

effort

to learn how to read theseworks; they simply basked

in

their

splendor.

Indeed,

calligraphic

genres

like the

imperial

edict

(ferman)

and

the

hilye

became

status

symbols

par

excellence,

because

their

distinctive

forms

made them

so

easy

to

recognize

without

the need

to

read them.

Today,

such works

can

fetch

several

tens

of

thousands

of

dollars

at

auction.

It

is

noteworthy

that

the children

of

these

first-generation

multimillionaires

seem

to

show

much less interest

in

antiques;

not

prey

to

the

sense

of

rootlessness

or

the

impostor

syndrome

apparently

felt

by

their

parents,

they

have

found

new

ways

to

achieve

"distinction" in

the

sense

proposed by

Bourdieu.29

In

particular,

the

modern

Turkish

art

market

has skyrocketed in recent years.

The

super-rich

were

not

the

only

modern

Turks

to

feel

the need for

forging

a new

identity

not

entirely

severed

from

the

Ottoman

past.

A

good

number of

contemporary

artists

that

handsomely

deserve the

qualification

of

29.

To

the

best of

my

knowledge,

this

process

has

not

yet

been

discussed

in

detail in

the

scholarly

literature.

My

spouse,

the

sociologist

Nilufer

isvan,

and

I

have been

engaged

in

a

long-term

research

project

whose

results

we

hope

eventually

to

publish.

27.

Cited

in

the

exhibition

catalogue

of

the

calligrapher

Emin Barm

at

istanbul

Devlet Giizel

Sanatlar

Akademisi,

May

25-June

15, 1978,

p.

4.

28.

Jevket

Rado,

Turk

Hattatlari

(istanbul:

Yayin

Matbaacilik

Ticaret

Limited

?ti.,

n.d.

[ca.

1982]),

p.

7.

Ugur

Derman

(private

communication)

confirmed

to me

that

Rado

told

him

at

the

time:

"What

can

I

do,

dear

Sir? To

have this

art

accepted

in

our

time,

we

have

no

other

choice/'


12/14

222

RES 53/54 SPRING/AUTUMN 2008

Figure

9. From

the sublime

to

the

ridiculous,

two

examples

of

society

pages

from

he

early

1990s.

Left:

from the

magazine V,

the late

Sakip

Sabanci

at

home,

in

front

f

a

selection of

imperial

dicts fromhis

vast

collection

of

Ottoman

calligraphy;

the headline

reads:

"The

collection

the

world

is

talking

bout."

Right:

fromthe

magazine

Fame,

Aysegiil

Nadir

in

her

(leased

and

freshly

estored)

historical

mansion

on

the

Bosphorus,

striking

n

"Ottoman"

pose

for the tabloid

press;

Nadir's collection also included

numerous

imperial

dicts,

as

well

as rare

examples

ofOttoman marbled

paper

and other

precious antiques.

"postmodern"

began

to

integrate

Ottoman

motifs

into

their

works,

particularly calligraphy.

The

painter

Erol

Akyavaj

was

the first

o

do

so,

thus

achieving

infinitely

reater

commercial

success

than he had

done

throughout

his

career.

Ergin

Inan

and

Suleyman

Saim Tekcan are two other

prominent

artistswho use

calligraphy

in

theirwork.30 The

important point

to note

here

is

that their

use

of

calligraphy

would

never

be

mistaken forworks of

calligraphy

proper.

What

they

have

done

is

to

use

calligraphy

principally

as an

element of

texture?Nan Freeman

has

suggested,

extremely

aptly,

I

think,

that their

use

of

calligraphy

is

akin

to

the

use

of

newsprint

inCubist

painting.31

The text that

they

use is

inconsequential,

and

it is

not at

all unusual

for

them

to

write

an

inscription

backward,

if

he

graphic

composition

warrants

it.

In

their

hands,

calligraphy

has become

pure

sign.

But

not

icon: At

most,

it

has become

symbol.

At the

same

time,

Islamic

calligraphy

has also become

something

of

a

rallying

point

and

source

of

identity

30.

Examples

of

Akyavas's

work

appear

in

Erol

Akyavas:

Yasami

ve

Yapitlan,

ed. Beral Madra and Haldun

Dostoglu

(Istanbul:

Bilgi

Oniversitesi

Yaymlari,

2000);

for

inan,

see

Ferit

Edgu,

Ergin

inan

([istanbul]:

Ada

Yaymlan,

1988);

forTekcan,

see

Semra

Germaner,

Suleyman

Saim

Tekcan:

45

Years ofArts

[sic] (Istanbul:

Turkiye

is

Bankasi,

2006).

An

exhibition

was

held

recently

in

London,

focusing

on

similar works from elsewhere

in

the Middle

East.

Though

many

of the works

in

the show

were

wonderful,

the

complete

absence of

Turkish

artists

among

nearly eighty?ranging

from

Morocco

to

Iran

and

even

China

( )?is

nothing

short of

incomprehensible.

For

the

catalogue,

see

Venetia

Porter,

Word into

Art: Artists

of theModern

Middle

East

(London:

The British

Museum

Press,

2006).

31. Private communication.


13/14

Schick:

The

iconicity

f Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

223

for religious youth inTurkey.32 Infact, calligraphy is

eminently

well suited

for such

a

role,

precisely

because

the

majority

of Turkish

citizens

today

cannot

read

it.

Thus,

Arabic

script

acts to

some

degree

as a

password

or

"secret handshake" that

performs

boundary

maintenance

on

the

community,

distinguishing

insiders

from outsiders.

One

of the effects

of this

new

role assumed

by

Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey

has been

the

emergence

of

a

new

orthodox

formalism?not

only

in

calligraphy,

but

also

in

some

of the allied

arts,

particularly

illumination

and

marbling.

The

neologism

"traditional

art"33 has

emerged

as an

unchallengeable

and

unquestionable

concept encompassing

these

diverse fields

and

endowing

them

with

an

inviolability

that borders

on

sacrality.

Attitudes toward these

arts

have become

a

test

of

political

correctness

and

even

moral

rectitude.

Underlying

this

new

orthodoxy

is

a

historicist,

indeed

Darwinian,

conception

of

art

according

to

which

styles

and

techniques

evolve

in

monolinear

progression,

and the survival of the fittest

is

accomplished through

compatibility

and

congruence

with the "soul of the

nation"?a

concept

that

is,

of

course,

never

defined.

As

a

result

of

what

we

might

call "aesthetic

Darwinism,"

the

entire

history

of each

so-called "traditional

art" is

viewed

teleologically,

a

single

mainstream

practice

is

recognized

as the correct one, and all practices that deviate from it

are

viewed

as

undesirable mutations

and

perversions

of

the national

essence

that

must

be snuffed

out,

so

that

the

art?and the nation?can

be

restored

to

the "correct"

course.

To

give

just

one

example:

It is

a

long-standing

practice

in

calligraphy

for

a

master to

give

the student

a

license

called

icazet

(Arabic:

ijazah)

upon

completing

the

standard

course

of

study.

This

practice

has

historically

been

scrupulously

enforced, and,

with

a

handful of

exceptions,

students who

had

not

yet

earned their

license

were

not

permitted

to

sign

their

work?in

other

32. On

June

23,

2007,

I

took

part

in

the

Symposium

on

the Arts

of

the

Book

organizedby

iSMEK,

highly

uccessful

rogram

f

art

education

and

vocational

training

associated with

the

municipality

of

Istanbul.

A

good

90

percent

of

the

audience

was

female,

and of

those,

easily

95

percent

were

veiled.

33.

Traditional

arts

are

generally

known

in

Turkish

as

geleneksel

sanatlar. There is

some

irony

in

this,

however:

The suffixes

sel/sal

(gelenek+sel

is

equivalent

to

tradition+al)

are

strongly

disliked

by

traditionalists,

who

view

them?and

not

entirely

without

justification?

as an

artificial

construct

of

Republican

linguistic

engineering.

On

the other

hand,

the Ottoman

adjective

an'anev?

is

obsolete

and

very

unlikely

to

replace

geleneksel.

The

term

gelenekli

sanatlar

("arts

with

traditions")

has

recently

been

proposed by Ugur

Derman,

and

has

gained

some

acceptance

within

the

arts

of

the book

community.

words, to function as professional calligraphers. In the

art

of

paper

marbling

(Turkish:

ebru;

Persian:

abr\),

however,

there

was never

such

a

practice.

At

least,

we

currently

dispose

of

no

historical

evidence

whatsoever

to

indicate that

master

marblers

might

have

once

granted

licenses

to

their

apprentices.

Be

that

as

it

may,

in

the

last

decade

or

two,

a

small number of Turkish

marblers

have invented

the tradition

of

granting

licenses for

marbling.34

This has

permitted

them

to

gain

a

doctrinal.

monopoly

of

sorts

over an

art

that

is

becoming

more

popular,

and hence less

centrally

controlled,

by

the

day.

There

is

even

a

web site

in

which,

by

clicking

on some

links,

one

can

hear the recorded

voice

of their

common

teacher,

the lateMustafa

Duzgunman, describing

his

methods and

recipes.35

The

context

makes

it

lear that

his

is

the

only legitimate

artistic

lineage,

as

far

as

they

are

concerned,

and forwhat

they

consider

legitimate

marblers,

his methods

and

recipes

and

they

alone

are

the

correct

ones.

Any experimentation

with

"nontraditional"

pigments,

sizes, mordants,

or

designs

is

viewed

not

only

as

beyond

the

pale

of Turkish

marbling,

but indeed

as

a

betrayal

of

it.

et

what constitutes

"traditional"

materials

and

techniques

derives

only

from

the

verbal

testimony

of

a

couple

of

twentieth-century

masters

of the

art,

and not

from

laboratory

work

and scientific

analysis

of

historical

examples. Inother words, this tradition?like all others,

of course?is

merely

a

modern

invention

that

projects

itself

into

time

immemorial.

Thus,

it

is

not

only

through

form

but also

through

practice

that

new

meanings

have

been

ascribed

to

calligraphy

and other

arts

of the

book

in

modern

Turkey.

Whether

a

status

symbol

for the

rich,

a source

of

identity

for

the

postmodern,

or a

test

of

orthodoxy

for

Islamists,

calligraphy

remains

a

problematic

icon

in

Turkey

today,

one

that

has

become

part

of

the

raging

"culture

wars."

The

daily Hurriyet

reported

on

September

21,

2005,

that,

as

a

bit of

"happening"

or

conceptual

art,

some

unidentified

persons

suddenly

unfurled a

large

banner in the

Karakoy

neighborhood

34.

For

examples

of

these

documents,

some

of

which

curiously

blend

traditionalist

verbiage

with

recent-vintage

nationalism,

see

Muin

Nursen

Eris,

Mustafa

Esat

Duzgunman

and

Ebru

(Istanbul:

istanbul

Buyuksehir

Belediyesi

Kultur

A.

?.

Yaymlan,

2007),

pp.

164-165,

176-177.

35.

The

URL

of

this

site,

maintained

by

the

marbler

Alparslan

Babaoglu,

is

http://www.gelenekselebru.com/.

There

is

also

an

English

version

of the

site,

but

it is

incomplete.

In

particular,

the

hyperpolemical

pages

entitled

Reddiye

(refutation)

in

the

Turkish

section remain

untranslated.

The

Turkish

section

even

includes

a

?ehadetname

(testimonial)

from

Duzgunman's

son

attesting

to

the

fact

that the

information

presented

therein is

faithful

to

his

father's

practices.


14/14

224

RES

53/54

SPRING/AUTUMN 2008

of downtown Istanbul. On it ere two

pieces

of

calligraphy,

both

in

urkish.

One

said

gel keyfim

gel,

which

is

more

or

less

untranslatable but could

best be

described

as an

invocation

to

pleasure,

to

hedonism.

The other said bu

da

geger ya

HQ,

which

roughly

means

"Lord,

this

too

shall

pass."

Both,

in

other

words,

were

nonpolitical,

secular,

and

entirely

unthreatening

expressions

that

any average

Turk

might

have uttered

on

a

suitable

occasion.36

Alas,

people

in

the

street

below could

not

read them.

They interpreted

the

banner

as some

sort

of Islamist

battle

cry,

and much

anxiety

was

reportedly

experienced,

until the

municipality

ordered

it

removed?a

tragicomical

twist

in

the

saga

of Islamic

calligraphy

in

Turkey.

Indeed,

this

saga

shows the

art,

taken

in

toto,

to

have

had

a

powerfully

indexical

quality, particularly during

the

Republican

period.

Its

suppression,

reemergence,

redefinition,

and

reappropriation provide

clues

as

to

the

profound

sociocultural transformations that

have

taken

place

since

the

collapse

of the

Ottoman

Empire.

36.

When

I

presented

this

material

at

MIT,

Caroline

Jones

wondered

if

Lord,

this

too

shall

pass"

might

not

be intended

as a

response

to

the

invocation

to

pleasure

above it?that

is,

if it

might

not represent a conservative rejoinder to the hedonistic practices of

modern

society.

Though

I

agree

that

this

possibility

cannot

be ruled

out,

I

strongly

doubt

it,

s

the

phrase

bu

da

geger ya

HQ

does

not

have such

a

censorious

connotation

in

Turkish.

Documents

Iconicity Of Islamic Calligraphy