PART I
THE EGYPTOLOGICAL IMAGINARY
CHAPTER 1
âWonderful thingsâ in Kingston upon Hull
Gabrielle Heffernan
The Old Grammar School in the city of Hull houses a museum known as Hands on History. The ground floor gallery imitates a Victorian schoolroom, complete with desks and a working blackboard. Upstairs, galleries tell the recent history of Hull, as well as highlight significant figures in the building of the city, its value as a key fishing port and the local dressmaker Madam Clapham. Yet in another room on the first floor there is an exhibit that is a little more unexpected. One is confronted by a larger-than-life pharaoh, his crown sitting upon his head, before catching sight of gleaming âgoldenâ chairs covered with Egyptian scenes, huge funerary beds and intricate âalabasterâ vases. One might be forgiven for thinking one had accidentally wandered through a portal to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, for these are some of the âwonderful thingsâ from the tomb of the Egyptian pharaoh, Tutankhamun. Of course, these are not the original artefacts (which are still safely displayed in the Egyptian capital). Instead, they are replicas of the objects that were discovered by Howard Carterâs team and excavated in the years following that great discovery.1 But what brought these replicas to Hull? To answer this question, we must first look at the events of that incredible discovery in 1922, as well as occurrences slightly closer to home.
This essay looks at the replicas themselves, discussing why they were made and how they were originally displayed in the British Empire Exhibition of 1924. Building upon this case study, it discusses the topic of replicas more generally;2 why were, and are, replicas created and what part can they play in modern museums and heritage sites? While some studies of the Tutankhamun discovery and its cultural aftermath mention the exhibition, discussion has often been restricted to the most basic information, and details on the replicas themselves have usually been omitted.3 This essay, therefore, not only illuminates the fascinating history of these objects, but also contributes to the debate on the nature of replicas. It looks at the original exhibition and its replicas as an example of British culture and colonialism, and also considers them in their modern context, as well as the wider use of replicas by cultural institutions today. In doing so, it raises questions about modern interactions with ancient Egypt, thus encouraging consideration of what the implications may be for the future of such encounters.
The discovery of Tutankhamunâs tomb
On 5 November 1922, an excavation led by the Egyptologist Howard Carter discovered the entrance to a previously unknown tomb in the Valley of Kings, situated on the West Bank of the Nile at modern-day Luxor in southern Egypt. Carter wrote in his diary, âHere before us was sufficient evidence to show that it really was an entrance to a tomb, and by the seals, to all outward appearances that it was intact.â4 Many had hypothesized that there was nothing left to find in the valley and so this discovery was, for many, both exciting and surprising. The seals identified it as belonging to a then little-known New Kingdom pharaoh of the name Tutankhamun. Once the entrance had been identified it was necessary to report the find to the Egyptian authorities and await the arrival of representatives of the Egyptian Antiquities Service, and so the excavation of the tomb was delayed for a short while. Once the necessary individuals had been gathered, on 25 November, Carter and his patron, Lord Carnarvon, were finally able to enter the tomb.
After the passageway was cleared, Carter looked inside the first room. When asked if he could see anything, he is reported to have replied with that now famous phrase, âYes, wonderful things.â As more of the tomb was excavated it became clear that although it had been partially robbed in antiquity, it was far more intact that any other excavated royal tomb and contained a wealth of treasures, the like of which had never been seen before. Hundreds of pieces of tomb furniture were removed in an excavation that would take approximately ten years to complete.5 Each object was meticulously recorded and photographed, before being taken from the tomb and packed ready to be transported to Cairo.
Visitors and press jostled at the site to catch a glimpse of some of the objects, or possibly even steal a moment inside the tomb. People across the world became swept up in the magic of Tutankhamun, the mysterious boy-king whose tomb contained riches beyond imagination. It should be noted, however, that the relationship between the excavators and the press was, at best, strained.6 The Times had rights to exclusive information, and Carter did his best to ensure that they received scoops ahead of their rivals. Carterâs own notebooks record his irritation at the interruptions to his work caused by interested journalists, where he wrote on 2 October 1925 of being âpestered by correspondents of local and foreign papersâ.7 Members of the press sometimes went over Carterâs head to gain access to information about the excavation. In one article, Arthur Weigall â a Daily Mail journalist whose role in this story will soon become clear â wrote:
Clearly there was little love lost between Weigall and both the excavators of the tomb and the favoured Times newspaper.
The British Empire Exhibition at Wembley
At a similar time as these events were taking place in Egypt, plans were afoot in London to develop an exhibition that would showcase Britain and its place as the leader of a great empire. Britain in the early 1920s was part of a changing world. Approximately one million British servicemen had been killed in the horrors of the First World War and many more had been permanently injured. This left many families devastated personally, because of their immediate loss, and financially, in the long term. Furthermore, women had taken on many of the roles traditionally filled by men during the years of fighting; they worked in factories supporting the war effort, and they held their families together in the absence of male patriarchs. In the years after the war, calls for equal womenâs suffrage grew following the granting of suffrage to women over the age of 30 in the 1918 Representation of the People Act. The social implications of this shift towards equal voting rights were potentially huge and threatened the traditional systems of government and control.
It was in the midst of this changing and challenging cultural maelstrom that the idea for a British Empire Exhibition was revisited (previous discussion had taken place before the outbreak of war). The exhibition would showcase the wonders of the British Empire, cement trade links and foster new ventures. Furthermore, it would revitalize the British sense of pride in its own history and achievements.
The exhibition opened in 1924 at Wembley and was visited by more than 25 million people.9 It displayed the cultures of 56 British territories ranging from Canada to British Guiana (now Guyana) to India. Alongside pavilions demonstrating the culture and industry of each territory there were huge displays of British science, engineering, transport and communication. The organizers even built a sports stadium (then called the Empire Stadium but better known now as the original Wembley Stadium, which stood until 2003 on the outskirts of London). In her review of the event, Amelia Deffries of the American Magazine of Art suggested that âa visitor might see all there is to see at the Exposition if he devoted his whole time for three weeks to nothing elseâ, such was its scale.10 It was, all things considered, a tremendous display of power and achievement by a truly global empire.
But what of Tutankhamun? Egypt was never a formal part of the British Empire and so, arguably, should not have had a place at the Wembley exhibition. However, it can be reasonably assumed that Carterâs British nationality, alongside that of his patron Carnarvon, made the discovery seem somewhat âBritishâ to many of those in positions of power. Ignoring the fact that the excavation had taken place in Egypt, was largely peopled by Egyptian workmen, and had discovered the tomb of an Egyptian pharaoh, the presence of a small number of influential British individuals at the site gave the organizers of the exhibition enough reason to include the tomb discovery among their British triumphs. Thus, the decision was made to include a replica of the tomb as part of the exhibition. The tomb was to be included as a paid-for exhibit in the amusement park that adjoined the main event, which made its inclusion possible without wrongly placing it among British territories. Additionally, it could help to raise income, another main aim of the British Empire Exhibition.
Having decided to include the replica tomb, the first task was to develop the displays. A London-based sculptor, William Aumonier, was engaged to create the replicas. The son of a sculptor (also called William), Aumonier was a respected artisan and a member of the company William Aumonier and Son, founded by his father. During the course of his career he worked on several high-profile projects, including in Hull where he created a war memorial for the grounds of the Reckitt factory in Dansom Lane.
As Aumonier was not particularly familiar with the subject matter, it was also decided to engage an expert in ancient Egypt to advise and oversee the project. Arthur Weigall was, therefore, hired to work alongside Aumonier. As an Egyptologist, Weigall had an understanding of the objects and of the culture that they represented. In addition to his Egyptological background, Weigall had also worked for some time in set design for both stage and film.11 This gave him an excellent understanding of the needs of a display such as that proposed for the replica tomb, as well as experience in developing designs. As Weigall had been in Egypt during the excavation of the tomb working as a journalist, he had seen first-hand some of the objects as they were removed from the tomb. In the absence of many detailed photographs, this knowledge would have been crucial. Weigallâs experience, therefore, made him ideal for the job; his Egyptological experience, his knowledge of Tutankhamunâs tomb, his knowledge of creating stage sets and his interest in film and theatre12 ensured that he both understood the context of the original tomb and that he recognized the importance of recreating this unique find in a way that would appeal to the paying public.13 His dramatic flair is demonstrated in his report about the opening of the royal tom...