Egyptomania! - Western art that is inspired by Egyptian art, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, Austria

Art in America, Nov, 1994 by Todd Porterfield

Finally, Egyptomania must also be considered in light of France's cultural and imperial program vis-i-vis both modern Egypt and other prizes in the Near East. By digging in the archive and presenting lavish scholarly detail on the short-lived Place des Victoires monument to Desaix, the curatorial team omitted the most enduring of these projects: the 1836 erection of the Luxor obelisk at the Place de la Concorde. The acquisition of obelisks from Egypt began in the Egyptian campaign, continued in the Restoration and then culminated in the July Monarchy, when one of the Luxor obelisks was raised at the Place de la Concorde. In recalling the Egyptian campaign, the obelisk project undoubtedly bolstered the rationale for French imperialism in the Near East and the invasion of Algeria in 1830. In a speech to the Chamber of Deputies in June 1836, Adolphe Thiers, who both directed the Place de la Concorde project and spearheaded the move toward the colonization of Algeria, lauded the French as "the authors, the fathers of Egyptian civilization" and located Algeria within the sphere of French imperial influence which would spread across the Near East.[16]

In the obelisk, each post-revolutionary French government sought what none of them could boast: tremendous age and association with an enduring political and societal order. To judge from the Description de l'Egypte, the hope was that the obelisk would somehow emanate an air of permanence and actively contribute to French stability and order. According to the Description's preface:

The Egyptians used to consider their religion and their government somewhat eternal; they were supported in this thought by the enduring aspect of great public monuments which lasted forever and which appeared to resist the effects of time. Their legislators had judged that this moral impression would contribute to the stability of their empire.[17]

This was a fundamental attraction found in Egyptian art which was never more acutely felt than in the early 19th century.

In his Philosophy of Fine Arts, Hegel is both wrong and right when he says that Egyptian art is especially ambiguous in its meaning. The example he gives is that while the meaning of a pyramid may appear open-ended, in a church it clearly signals the trinity.[18] The Egyptian motif takes its meaning from its context, from its audience, from the history and associations of its use. Of course, this is not uniquely true for Egyptian forms, but for culture in general. Indeed, Egyptomania confronts us with multiculturalism in its broadest sense. Its products are connected to a variety of cultures and meanings, to modern and ancient history, to domestic and international politics, to literature and science, to works of art, high and low. The artist and the viewer reach out - or refuse to reach out - across time, space and cultural boundaries.

The various publics for "Egyptomania" may choose the oblivion of the darkened gallery or the surface glitter of precious objects. However, perhaps despite itself, the exhibition provokes us to think critically about multicultural relations at the threshold of modernity, at the nexus of East-West (and North-South) relations. It should also prompt us to examine more critically the cultural and historical events which inform our own moment, for Egyptomania is always past and it is always present. In 1978 the Metropolitan Museum grandly resurrected the Temple of Dendur within its own quarters. In 1989 the Louvre raised its own glass pyramid, and in 1993 Las Vegas's Luxor Hotel opened with its replica tomb of Tutankhamen. Everywhere we turn Egypt is offered up as taste, motif and palliative. Egyptomania abounds.