Byzantium at the Royal Academy
I have to confess I wasn't looking forward to this. Byzantium is the Royal Academy's big new exhibition exploring the wonders of the Byzantine Empire up until the fall of Constantinople in 1453. This is exactly the kind of exhibition that the Royal Academy excels at: with a topic this big and with so many beautiful artefacts on display there's no need for interactive gimmickry or wacky lay-outs. Just put amazing things on display in some kind of order with the odd bit of explanatory spiel and it should be a triumph.
This is, by and large, exactly what the Royal Academy has done, and, yes, it is a triumph. My fear stemmed from the fact that this kind of thing is just not really my idea of fun. In an attempt to try and approach this with an open mind, I rang an archaeologist friend of mine before entering. 'You just have to think,' he said, 'what Britain was getting up to at the same time. We were living in sheds and throwing mud at each other, whilst they were producing all this amazing stuff.'
He's right of course. And there really are some incredible things in this exhibition. The first room sets the tone beautifully. In the dim chocolate light is simply some introductory text outlining the exhibition's aims, a few maps to get an idea of the geography and history of the region, and then, up above, the biggest chandelier I have ever seen. It's a colossal, ornate 13th Century copper alloy affair, and it really is incredible. It's an impressive way to start – can they top this?
Yes. Nothing comes close to it in terms of scale (apart from a massive pair of brass church doors a little later on), but in terms of splendour, intricacy, technical skill, gold, precious jewels, and sheer jaw-dropping beauty, Byzantium keeps getting better and better. There's illuminated books, miraculously maintained tapestries, bells, grails and coins, mosaics and incredible carvings, rings, bangles, bracelets and bowls, plates, spoons and tombs. Each is adorned with all manner of precious stones, carved wood, ivory, papyrus, sardonyx, gilded silver studded with pearls, gold cloisonné enamel, rock crystal cabochons...
Double-sided processional cross, Christ crucified, egg tempera on wood, 113x83cm, 1250
And icons. My god the icons. They are strangely, enigmatically beautiful, many of them. But I always think that the folk in these religious portraits look either very pompous or just plain miserable. For me the most interesting bit is actually a paragraph about Iconoclasm, but that swiftly gives way to another room full of icons. Iconoclasm no doubt robbed this exhibition of many fine works, and it is this, you feel, rather than the beliefs that underpinned it, that so irritate the exhibition's info-writers.
Above all, this is an exhibition about things. You don't learn that much about everyday life in the Byzantine Empire, or much about their beliefs, morals, laws or politics. You simply come to gasp and to gawp. With its beautiful galleries, the Royal Academy is adept at this kind of grandeur and fortunately they don't overstate the beauty of the objects on show; they just let them be. So any fault lies not so much with the exhibition or the things in it, but with me. There's just only so long I can be amazed for. And at about 40 minutes, it's less than half the time you need to get the most out of this magnificent show.
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