Islamic attitudes to art
Over the centuries, many different attitudes toward the arts came to light within
the vast Islamic world and it is altogether impossible to talk of a single set of principles that determined the course of artistic development. But it is possible to argue that Islam’s initial
the vast Islamic world and it is altogether impossible to talk of a single set of principles that determined the course of artistic development. But it is possible to argue that Islam’s initialrevelation, the Koran, contains passages anU points of view on which attitudes to the arts could be, and often were, based. Many of them acquired different interpretations over the centuries and it should some day be possible to sketch out a history of their use.
There are, first of all, references to categories of manufacture and of construction. One set of examples involves concrete and unique items, all of which relate to Solomon, the King-Prophet whose patronage of works of art was legendary and whose artisans were usually the no less legendary jinns. He ordered the making of a fountain of molten brass, a Muslim adaptation of the celebrated Brazen Sea in Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem, as described in the Old 
Testament (Koran 34. 12). Then, the jinns manufactured for him maharib (pl. of mihrab), statues, cooking vessels, and tableware (34. 13). The word mihrab reappears several times in the Koran; it had several meanings before becoming attached primarily to a niche in the back of the mosque, about which more will be said further on. Essentially it means a place of honor, but it is difficult to’ know exactly what was meant in the context of this passage. The interesting point about some of these items made by the jinns is that they arc very practical, almost of daily use, and could be related to the great originality of later Islamic art which developed a devotion to the beautification of common objects: plates, ewers, candlesticks, pen boxes, and so forth. Just as Solomon had done, it was proper to give attention to one’s man-made surroundings.
Testament (Koran 34. 12). Then, the jinns manufactured for him maharib (pl. of mihrab), statues, cooking vessels, and tableware (34. 13). The word mihrab reappears several times in the Koran; it had several meanings before becoming attached primarily to a niche in the back of the mosque, about which more will be said further on. Essentially it means a place of honor, but it is difficult to’ know exactly what was meant in the context of this passage. The interesting point about some of these items made by the jinns is that they arc very practical, almost of daily use, and could be related to the great originality of later Islamic art which developed a devotion to the beautification of common objects: plates, ewers, candlesticks, pen boxes, and so forth. Just as Solomon had done, it was proper to give attention to one’s man-made surroundings.Another passage dealing with Solomon is more complicated. In order to test the Queen of Sheba, and ultimately to demonstrate his superiority over her, Solomon orders the construction of a sarh covered with or built of slabs of glass or of crystal (27. 45). The exact meaning of the word sarh is the subject of much controversy and it may be easier to think of it as some sort of constructed space, without trying to be more precise. The peculiarity of whatever it is that Solomon built is that it is supposed to be interpreted by the Queen of Sheba as a body of water, as something different from what it really is. The pious implications of the story need not concern us here, but what is important is that a work is manuflsctured in order to create an illusion of reality. Two aspects of the story are pertinent to Islamic attitudes toward the arts, in parrsal contradiction with each other. One is that a work of art is something to wonder about, to be amazed by; it belongs to the category of wondrous things that became known as the ajaib (pl. of ajib, “wonderful” or “astonishing”), a term used constantly to praise manufactured items of all sorts. The other implication is that a work of art is a falsehood, a lie, because it gives you the impression of something that it is not. It can be seen, therefore, as reprehensible, and some Muslim thinkers, even in our own time, continue to argue this point.
Individual passages such as this one will continue to be studied and discussed for various interpretations regarding the values, and even the validity, of art in Islamic culture. But one issue dominates all discussions of Muslim attitudes toward the arts: the reptesentation of living beings. In the Koran itself, there is no formal statement opposing such representations and there is a general consens
us that what can be called the Muslim “aniconism” (as opposed to iconoclasm,” implying the violent destruction of images, something which happened only rarely, and mostly in later times) was a reluctance to use such images in the face of the rich religious imagery found in the Mediterranean area and Iran or, later, India and Central Asia. Initially this reluctance was social and psychological rather than ideological, but, over the centuries, it acquired intellectual and theological justification, and used various Koranie passages an doctrines to do so. There was, in particular, the passage which relates how Jesus gave life to the effigy of a bird as a miracle showing that Cod alone has the power to bestow life (3. 47—49). The unique omnipotence of God is an essential feature of Islam and one of irs corollaries is the absolute opposition to idols (for instance 6. 74). The artistic representation of life was seen as idolatry and eventually considered sinful by most theologians. According to many traditions, artists would be expected, on the day of the Last Judgment, to put life into their creation and to be tossed into the fire of hell when they fail to do so.
This prohibition was, of course, loosely applied, and many a treatise argued matters differently. Yet, it did affect Islamic art in several ways. The faith itself could not be expressed through images and, thus, piety had to find other ways to be shown visually, sr least in more formal art; one way, as has been argued by many, was through writing and the promotion of calligraphy to a sort of sacred art form. Another effect may well have been the importance taken by secular arts, especially artisanal ones, during centuries when, almost everywhere else, religious art dominated. And, perhaps mote importantly, sacred writings did not become a continuous source of inspiration for attists. There are exceptions, no doubt, especially after the 13th century and in the Iran-influenced world, or in folk art. But they are, for the most part, tare, and the expression of the faith did not form s major aspect of Islamic art outside architecture and calligraphy.
Two last themes affecting Islamic art from the very beginning deserve mention. One is the very vivid, visual, and often very precise, descriptions of Paradise, with its gardens, fountains, and pavilions. It is possible that these descriptions and evocations had an almost immediate impact on the decorative arts of the Muslims and some have argued that the mosaic decoration of the Great Mosque in Damascus of the early 8th century included a represenration of that Muslim Paradise. And Paradise is forcefully evoked in the gatdens of 17th-century Mughal India. Whether or nor the theme has always been present when scholars saw it is a matter of debate, but its existence throughout Islamic art is certain. Then, more recently, some architects sod urban designers from the Muslim world have argued that, by making man his vice-regent on earth, a central theme of the Koran, God has entrusted the earth to man. As a result, the preservation of nature in a healthy state is parr of the Muslim message, and several attempts have been made in recent years to design houses, urban complexes, even whole cities in terms of respect for the environment as inspired by the faith.
Individual passages such as this one will continue to be studied and discussed for various interpretations regarding the values, and even the validity, of art in Islamic culture. But one issue dominates all discussions of Muslim attitudes toward the arts: the reptesentation of living beings. In the Koran itself, there is no formal statement opposing such representations and there is a general consens
us that what can be called the Muslim “aniconism” (as opposed to iconoclasm,” implying the violent destruction of images, something which happened only rarely, and mostly in later times) was a reluctance to use such images in the face of the rich religious imagery found in the Mediterranean area and Iran or, later, India and Central Asia. Initially this reluctance was social and psychological rather than ideological, but, over the centuries, it acquired intellectual and theological justification, and used various Koranie passages an doctrines to do so. There was, in particular, the passage which relates how Jesus gave life to the effigy of a bird as a miracle showing that Cod alone has the power to bestow life (3. 47—49). The unique omnipotence of God is an essential feature of Islam and one of irs corollaries is the absolute opposition to idols (for instance 6. 74). The artistic representation of life was seen as idolatry and eventually considered sinful by most theologians. According to many traditions, artists would be expected, on the day of the Last Judgment, to put life into their creation and to be tossed into the fire of hell when they fail to do so.This prohibition was, of course, loosely applied, and many a treatise argued matters differently. Yet, it did affect Islamic art in several ways. The faith itself could not be expressed through images and, thus, piety had to find other ways to be shown visually, sr least in more formal art; one way, as has been argued by many, was through writing and the promotion of calligraphy to a sort of sacred art form. Another effect may well have been the importance taken by secular arts, especially artisanal ones, during centuries when, almost everywhere else, religious art dominated. And, perhaps mote importantly, sacred writings did not become a continuous source of inspiration for attists. There are exceptions, no doubt, especially after the 13th century and in the Iran-influenced world, or in folk art. But they are, for the most part, tare, and the expression of the faith did not form s major aspect of Islamic art outside architecture and calligraphy.
Two last themes affecting Islamic art from the very beginning deserve mention. One is the very vivid, visual, and often very precise, descriptions of Paradise, with its gardens, fountains, and pavilions. It is possible that these descriptions and evocations had an almost immediate impact on the decorative arts of the Muslims and some have argued that the mosaic decoration of the Great Mosque in Damascus of the early 8th century included a represenration of that Muslim Paradise. And Paradise is forcefully evoked in the gatdens of 17th-century Mughal India. Whether or nor the theme has always been present when scholars saw it is a matter of debate, but its existence throughout Islamic art is certain. Then, more recently, some architects sod urban designers from the Muslim world have argued that, by making man his vice-regent on earth, a central theme of the Koran, God has entrusted the earth to man. As a result, the preservation of nature in a healthy state is parr of the Muslim message, and several attempts have been made in recent years to design houses, urban complexes, even whole cities in terms of respect for the environment as inspired by the faith.
Thank for good things
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