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From Spolia to Showcase: A 1st-Century BC Decree in Motion

Nicolas C. Nicolaides

In 1816, “Monsieur Mertrud” a French merchant and antiquities dealer resident in Athens, discovered a 1st-century BC marble stele inscribed with a decree honoring ephebes and their superintendent (kosmetes), reused as spolia in the wall of a house (Fig. 1). In 1821 the stele was acquired by Percy Clinton Smythe, sixth Viscount Strangford (1780–1855), British ambassador at Constantinople (İstanbul), and entered the British Museum in 1864. Tracing the stele’s movement from Athens to Constantinople and London, this post emphasizes the role of Levantine Frank intermediaries in reshaping the modern afterlives of classical objects through pragmatic negotiations that operated between local households, diplomatic networks, and state museums.

Fig. 1. Fragment of the marble block from Athens bearing an inscription that comprises two decrees honoring ephebes and their superintendent (ca. 38–40 BC). London, BM 1864,0220.21. © The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under a CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 licence.

Levantine Franks and Antiquities in Ottoman Athens

André Mertrud, locally known as Mousandreas (a corrupted form of “Monsieur Andreas”), was a French physician, merchant, and antiquities dealer who settled in Athens in 1788 following his marriage to Marguerite Cayrac, herself of Levantine Frank descent (Krakovitch 1985, p. 55–56). Their grand residence, located—according to Manolis Korres (2010, p. 125–128)—at the intersection of modern Adrianou and Navarchou Nikodemou Streets and depicted by Otto Magnus von Stackelberg (1786–1837), reflected the family’s wealth and social standing (Fig. 2). The building shown in Stackelberg’s lithograph, long misidentified as the Logotheti mansion, was identified by Bankel (1986, p. 167, 202) as the Mertrud house on the basis of Haller von Hallerstein’s architectural plans and drawings of the same property. The Mertrud residence likely functioned as a space of antiquarian display comparable to other elite households and foreign consulates in Athens (Petsalis-Diomidis 2018, p. 43).

The Mertruds’ involvement in antiquities drew them into the politics of collecting, as reflected in a 1802 letter by Giovanni-Battista Lusieri (1755–1821), agent of Lord Elgin (1766–1841). In this letter, Lusieri complained that “Monsieur Mertrout [sic]” obstructed the removal of the Parthenon marbles by cutting off the water supply required to wash them (Smith 1916, p. 230).

Fig. 2. Otto Magnus von Stackelberg. Athens. Interior of a Greek house. Stackelberg 1834, pl. 5. Courtesy American School of Classical Studies at Athens, Gennadius Library.

Strangford and the Decree

Despite André Mertrud’s earlier resistance to Elgin’s enterprise, the family’s later actions reveal a pragmatic recalibration rather than ideological opposition, as his descendants later sold the stele, and possibly other ancient artifacts, to one of Elgin’s successors, Lord Strangford. François Pouqueville, French consul at Ali Pasha’s court in Janina (Ioannina), records that the stele had been reused as spolia in the house of “Stamataki-Hadgi” before being discovered and transcribed by Monsieur Mertrud in 1816 (Pouqueville 1820, p. 105). Panagiotis Eustratiades (1815–1888), Ephor General of Antiquities, identifies “Stamataki-Hadgi” as Stamatios Kodras and locates the house on Deka Street, west of the Metropolitan Cathedral (Malouchou 2019, p. 64, n. 25). Pouqueville’s 1820 publication (Fig. 3) transformed the stele from a locally embedded object into a textualized artifact circulating within Western scholarly networks, likely increasing interest, and in 1821 the family sold the stele to Strangford’s agent, Luigi Canquitz of Smyrna (İzmir) (St Clair 2022, p. 250; TNA; Kew FO 352/15 B, 444). Canquitz’s name points to Levantine Frank origins, underscoring the existence of a transregional network of Levantine Frank settlers active in the antiquities trade.

Fig. 3. The stele’s inscribed text as published by Pouqueville in his Voyage dans la Grèce vol. 4, Paris, 1820, p. 105, No XVI. Original copy held by the National Library of the Netherlands.

After Strangford’s death, many of his antiquities entered the British Museum in 1864, among them the Strangford Apollo, an archaic kouros from the island of Anaphi (Fig. 4), and the Strangford Shield, a marble copy of the shield from Pheidias’ statue of Athena Parthenos in the Parthenon. While Strangford’s collection exemplifies the consolidation of antiquities within imperial institutions, the same decades witnessed a parallel redefinition of ancient material within Greece itself.

Fig. 4. The Strangford Apollo (ca. 490 BC). London, BM 1864,0220.1. © The Trustees of the British Museum. Shared under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 licence.

From Commodities to Symbols of Nationhood

The Greek Enlightenment and the War of Independence fundamentally reshaped perceptions of antiquities. Intellectuals such as Adamantios Koraïs (1748–1833) framed ancient material culture as a cornerstone of national regeneration, while successive revolutionary governments sought to regulate its circulation. Yet ambiguities persisted in practice regarding the status of antiquities, particularly in the blurred boundary between patriotic donation and continued commercial exchange. As Alexia Petsalis-Diomidis (2018, p. 43) observes in the case of Nikolaos Phlogaïtis (1799–1867), a Greek revolutionary and jurist, whose newly acquired collection of sixty vases was donated to the National Museum, founded in 1829 by Governor Ioannis Kapodistrias (1776–1831) on Aegina (Fig. 5). By contrast, André Mertrud’s son Bartholomée sold more than one hundred vases to the same institution in 1831 (Petrakos 2015, p. 46–47, docs. 515–516). This juxtaposition may suggest differing modes of national commitment shaped by distinct social trajectories: on the one hand, an altruistic gesture aligned with emerging ideals of national patrimony; on the other, a Levantine Frank identity grounded in long-standing commercial practice and pragmatic engagement with state institutions. The latter interpretation is consistent with the Mertrud family’s broader activities in early independent Athens, including Petros Mertrud’s advisory role in 1831 to Sophie de Marbois-Lebrun, Duchess of Plaisance (1785–1854), on land acquisitions in the city (Kampouroglou 1923–1925, p. 207).

Fig. 5. The Kapodistrian Orphanage, Aegina (1828–1829), where the National Library and the Archaeological Museum were also housed. Photograph by John Rigas, CC BY-SA 4.0.

Conclusion

The trajectory of this 1st-century BC stele, from spolia in an Athenian house to a British Museum artifact, encapsulates the shifting meanings of antiquities in the late Ottoman and early modern Mediterranean. Mediated by Franco-Athenian families, Levantine agents, and diplomatic networks, the object’s movement reflects the transformation of ancient material from commodity to institutionalized heritage. In this context, the Mertruds emerge as key intermediaries, whose antiquarian and commercial strategies illuminate the entanglement of commerce, politics, and identity at the threshold of Greek independence.

Acknowledgments

This research was largely conducted at the Gennadius Library of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, supported by the 2023–2024 Kathryn and Peter Yatrakis Fellowship. I am grateful to Maria Georgopoulou and Irini Solomonidi for their guidance, and to the library staff for their support and hospitality. I also thank Joshua Williams, whose enthusiasm for epigraphy first introduced me to the field, and Matthew Peebles for comments on an earlier draft. For scholarly advice and other support, I thank Jackson Noah Miller, and Mercedes Volait.

Sources

Hansgeorg Bankel (ed.), Carl Haller von Hallerstein in Griechenland, 1810–1817: Architekt, Zeichner, Bauforscher. Berlin, Dietrich Reimer Verlag, 1986.

Dimitrios G. Kampouroglou, Μελέται καί ἔρευναι: ὉἍγιος Ἠλίας τοῦ σταροπάζαρου καὶ ἡ θυρεοκόσμητος τοι χογραφίατου, Τὰ Ἀττικά, Ἡ Δούκισσα τῆς Πλακεντίας [Studies and Research: Saint Elias of the Staropazaro and Its Heraldic Wall Painting]; Attica; The Duchess of Plaisance], Athens, Hestia, 1923–1925.

Odile Krakovitch (ed.), Consulats de France en Grèce et en Turquie : Correspondance des consuls d’Athènes et Nègrepont (1684–1791). Mémoires et documents des consulats de Grèce et de Turquie (1740–1870), Paris, Archives Nationales, 1985.

Vasileios C. Petrakos, Ημερολόγιο Αρχαιολογικό. Τα χρόνια του Καποδίστρια. 1828–1832 3 [Archaeological Journal. The Years of Kapodistrias, 1828–1832 vol. 3], Athens, Hē en Athēnais Archaiologikē Hetaireia, 2015.

François C. H. L. Pouqueville, Voyage dans la Grèce, volume 4, Paris, Firmin Didot, Père et Fils, 1820.

Otto Magnus von Stackelberg, La Grèce : Vues pittoresques et topographiques, Paris, 1834.

References

Manolis Korres, “Πολεοδομικός ιστός – Οδικό δίκτυο και οικοδομικές νησίδες επί των χαρτών Fauvel και Κλεάνθους-Schaubert” [Urban Fabric: Street Network and Building Blocks in the Maps of Fauvel and Kleanthes–Schaubert], in Αττικής οδοί 2. Οι πρώτοι χάρτες της πόλεως των Αθηνών [Attic Roads 2: The First Maps of the City of Athens], ed. M. Korres, Athens, Melissa, 2010, p. 120–153.

Georgia E. Malouchou, “Οἰκίες τῶν παλαιῶν Ἀθηνῶν τῶν πρὸ τῆς Ἐπαναστάσεως χρόνων Σημείωμα” [Houses of Old Athens in the Years before the Revolution], Γραμμάτειον 8, p. 61–66, 2019.

Alexia Petsalis-Diomidis, “Local Engagements with Ancient Greek Vases in Ottoman and Revolutionary Greece, c. 1800–1833,” in Classics in extremis: The Edges of Classical Reception, ed. E. Richardson, London, Bloomsbury, 2018, p. 35–58.

Arthur H. Smith, “Lord Elgin and his collection,” The Journal of Hellenic Studies 36, 1916. p. 163–372.

William St. Clair, Who Saved the Parthenon? A New History of the Acropolis Before, During and After the Greek Revolution, Cambridge, Open Book publishers, 2022.

From the Albaycín to the Private Museum: The Fortuny Azulejo and its Residences

Élodie Baillot

The so-called Fortuny azulejo is a lusterware tile panel of very large dimensions, dated from the early 15th century and probably produced in Málaga under the reign of the Nasrid King Yusuf III, who ruled over the kingdom of Granada from 1376 to 1417 (Fig. 1). This magnificent tile panel has been known since its purchase in 1871 in Granada by the Spanish painter Mariano Fortuny y Marsal (1838-1974). Fortuny who had won the Prix de Rome in 1857 had settled in the Eternal city before relocating in Paris where he enjoyed considerable success while initiating his partnership with the art dealer Albert Goupil. In 1870, Fortuny left for a two-year stay in Granada in order to find new sources of inspiration. During his Andalusian stay he purchased several objects that have become iconic Islamic artefacts, most of them now preserved in private and public museums. Amongst these artefacts is the large lusterware tile panel. According to what he confided to friends at the time, he did not purchase the panel from an antiquarian or a collector but most likely from a small shopkeeper based in the Albaycín district, the Arab quarter of Granada, where the tile panel had been reused as a lintel for the door of the shop.

Fig. 1. Lusterware tile panel, Málaga, 15th century, 90 x 46 cm, Madrid, Instituto Valencia de Don Juan.

A small fragment, very similar in design, was also acquired by Fortuny at the same time. It belongs now to the Louvre (OA 6694) and suggests that there were originally two panels forming a pair, probably coming from the Alhambra palace even though there is no tangible evidence of such a provenance. Before entering Fortuny’s collection, the azulejo had probably already lived a life of reuse and undergone relocation and decontextualization.

A life in the studio: the artist-collector’s object

In 1871, the lusterware tile panel joined the painter’s collection who was also a collector. It marked a turning point insofar as the artist’s notoriety reflected on his collection which he completed over time with exceptionally rare pieces. Fortuny spent two years in Granada before returning to Rome in 1872 where his collection was to be displayed in his studio which was also a major hub of artistic sociability in the 1860s-1870s. As an artist, Fortuny considered his collection as a source of inspiration and study as can be seen in several paintings and photographs depicting the place. The azulejo occupies a prominent place in this setting, hanging on a wall surrounded by tapestries and lusterware plates (Fig. 2). The panel was probably framed by Fortuny to facilitate the display on the wall’s studio and the comparison with his own orientalist paintings. The artist was also known for his attempts at recreation of medieval artistic techniques which he experimented while in Granada, specifically the lusterware and forge techniques. He was very much interested in collecting these objects to emulate medieval artists and craftsmanship. For the Alhambra vase, one of the most famous artefacts of his collection acquired near Granada, he designed and forged a bronze base decorated with lion heads.

Fig. 2. View of Fortuny’s workshop in Rome, from Fortuny (1838-1874), Bologna, G. Maylender, 1933 (reproduced by Élodie Baillot).

A destiny determined by auctions

Fig. 3. The Fortuny azulejo, from Atelier de Fortuny : œuvre posthume, objets d’art et de curiosités […], Paris, Hôtel Drouot, 26 avril 1875, Paris, impr. J. Claye, 1875, p. 100.

After the artist’s very sudden death in 1874, the destiny of the lusterware tile panel was again at stake during the sale of his collection a year later in Paris. It is known that the azulejo was highly coveted since it was reported by Spanish collector and art historian Juan Facundo Riaño, advisor to the South Kensington Museum, to its director Henry Cole, as absolutely unique. In view of the sale, organized by Baron Jean-Charles Davillier, a friend of Fortuny, collector and historian of lusterware ceramics, the translation of the Arabic inscription on the azulejo was entrusted to orientalist Charles Schefer, whose version connected the object to the reign of King Yusuf III and allowed a more precise dating (Fig. 3). This enhanced the value of the azulejo and Baron Davillier, who wrote the catalogue entries of Fortuny’s ceramic collection, even drew a symbolic parallel between the deceased Spanish painter and King Yusuf III who was known for embellishing the Alhambra palace and excelling as a poet and artist. Even though the inscription is dedicated to the Nasrid King, Fortuny’s last ownership of the azulejo largely overshadowed any other provenance in the shaping of the object’s history and critical fortune. Since Fortuny bought it in 1871, it is commonly referred to as the Fortuny azulejo.

The object was then purchased by Baron Davillier for 1 950 francs , allegedly on behalf of Fortuny’s widow who kept the azulejo in her collection. Even if the terms of the arrangement between the two parties remain unknown, it testifies to the sentimental attachment of the Fortuny’s family to the object. In comparison, the so-called Alhambra vase was bought by Russian collector Alexandre Basilewsky for 30 000 francs. This sale marked an important step in the “aestheticization of value” (Boltanski, Esquerre, 2017) of the azulejo not only because it fetched a significant price but also because the sale catalogue was conceived as a historiographical overview on lusterware ceramics, a field of research in which Davillier was a pioneer. As a matter of fact, Davillier probably capitalized on the success of the sale to give his research new relevance.

The museum object

The azulejo seems to have remained in Fortuny’s widow collection for several years before being sold at an unknown date to Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, Duke de Dino. Neither the price and the reasons of acquisition, nor under what conditions it was displayed while Dino owned it, are known. In any case, the collection of the Duke de Dino, one of the most important collections of arms and armors of the time, was sold after his death in 1894.

Considering the growing fame of Davillier’s publications since 1875, the Fortuny azulejo had become a masterwork from the Nasrid period and a brilliant artistic expression of Muslim Spain. It was commonly attributed by most scholars to a workshop in Málaga, where the Alhambra vase could have been produced too. This more accurate understanding of the technique and time of production of the object was even reinforced by the aura his previous owner, Fortuny, had gained since he had been elevated as the artistic genius of Spanish contemporary painting.

During the 1894 sale of the Duke de Dino’s collection, the azulejo was acquired by Guillermo de Osma y Scull and his wife, Adela Crooke y Guzmán, Countess of Valencia de Don Juan. This purchase is the result of the effectiveness of a loyal network of agents able to secure the object they were willing to buy at any cost. Some serious rivals were also on the line for the acquisition such as the South Kensington Museum, the Berlin Kunstgewerbemuseum and some major collectors. Guillermo de Osma and Adela Crooke y Guzmán managed to refrain Frederick Du Cane Godman from bidding after an arrangement with him. To deal with British collector George Salting, they let the bidding rise until he withdrew, ultimately acquiring the azulejo for 19 500 francs. To cover this considerable sum, Osma had to join forces with his father-in-law Juan Crooke y Navarrot, Count of Valencia de Don Juan.

The Fortuny azulejo thus entered a new private collection but this collection bears a specific meaning since the Counts of Valencia de Don Juan built a residence to house a museum and institute dedicated to the history of Spain and its arts that they created in 1916 (Fig. 4). The historicist neo-Moorish architecture and decoration of the building, located on Fortuny Street in Madrid, were designed as a setting alluding to the style of the objects exhibited inside.

Fig. 4. The initial location of the Fortuny azulejo at the Instituto Valencia de Don Juan. AIVDJ, Carpeta 401, Carrera San Jerónimo, interiores, salón principal (between 1894 and 1914) (Reproduced by Élodie Baillot).
Fig. 5. Current display of the azulejo in the Instituto Valencia de Don Juan (Photograph by Élodie Baillot, 2018)

Within the palace, the azulejo has a prominent place and stands today in a display case dedicated to Nasrid ceramics (Fig. 5). It faces another one of the few exemplars of the so-called Alhambra vases and embodies the reappropriation of the study of the material culture of Muslim Spain in which most of the successive directors of the Instituto Valencia de Don Juan distinguished themselves. The azulejo also illustrates the patriotic commitment of its last owners dedicated to the preservation and study of Spanish heritage. This aspect is even more tangible with the gift they made of their collection and institute to the Spanish nation. Since its purchase in 1894, the azulejo has not left Spain and is never loaned. An exception was made in 2018 for Mariano Fortuny y Marsal retrospective exhibition held at the Prado Museum, in Madrid.

Bibliography

Atelier de Fortuny : œuvre posthume, objets d’art et de curiosité, armes, faïences hispano-moresques, étoffes et broderies, bronzes orientaux, coffrets d’ivoire, etc…. dont la vente aura lieu les 26 avril et jours suivants…hôtel Drouot. Notices par MM. Édouard de Beaumont (armes), B[ar]on Davillier (faïences), A. Dupont-Auberville (étoffes), Paris, impr. J. Claye, 1875.

Élodie Baillot, « De palais à institut : architecture, décors et arts décoratifs espagnols à l’Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan », in Sandra Costa, Dominique Poulot, Mercedes Volait (eds.), The Period rooms. Allestimenti storici tra arte, collezionismo e museologia, Bologna, Bononia University Press, 2016, p. 179-188.

Élodie Baillot, Le baron Davillier. Un travailleur de la curiosité, Paris, Éditions de la Sorbonne, 2024.

Javier Barón (ed.), Fortuny (1838-1874), cat. exp. (Madrid, Museo del Prado, 21 de noviembre de 2017-18 de marzo de 2018), Madrid, Museo nacional del Prado, 2018.

Luc Boltanski, Arnaud Esquerre, Enrichissement : une critique de la marchandise, Paris, Gallimard, 2017.

L’aller et retour d’une Galerie Renaissance de Moret-sur-Loing

Dominique Casajus

Une « Maison dite de François Ier ou Hôtel de Chabouillé, dans la cour de l’Hôtel de ville » fait l’objet d’une notice dans la base Mérimée sous la référence PA00087141. Le monument ainsi répertorié n’a pas toujours occupé le lieu qui est le sien depuis 1956, derrière la mairie de Moret-sur-Loing, au sud de la forêt de Fontainebleau. Il représente l’état actuel d’un édifice datant du début du XVIe siècle (certaines sources avancent la date de 1527) qui a connu plusieurs déplacements. On doit son édification première à Nicolas Chabouillé, riche bourgeois exerçant à Moret les fonctions de procureur du roi, comme galerie servant à relier les deux bâtiments d’un hôtel acquis une dizaine d’années plus tôt : un bâtiment entre rue et cour, dont subsiste encore, au 40 rue Grande, un élément de pan de bois ; un bâtiment entre cour et jardin, dont quelques ornements sont encore visibles. Il pourvut également la façade intérieure du bâtiment entre rue et cour d’ornements en harmonie avec la galerie.

La description la plus ancienne de cette galerie est livrée par un manuscrit du début du XIXe siècle dû à un certain Louis-Antoine Piffault, que le catalogue des Archives départementales de Seine-et-Marne présente comme un « ancien fabricien de l’église de Moret, avant la révolution ». Elle a été reprise et amplifiée par l’érudit morétain Georges Lioret. La galerie se composait à l’origine de trois arcades soutenant un étage, et à gauche desquelles une porte surmontée d’une fenêtre donnait sur un escalier. À la base de l’étage, courait une frise partagée en quatre compartiments. Dans les deux compartiments extrêmes, dont l’un surmontait à gauche la porte donnant sur l’escalier, et l’autre l’arcade la plus à droite, on voyait des putti se livrant à des jeux bachiques. Sous l’un de ces deux compartiments, on lisait une sentence sur le libellé de laquelle les sources divergent mais qui pourrait avoir été : Quid juvat annosam et mestam producere vitam (À quoi bon prolonger une vie chargée d’ans et de chagrins ?).

Des deux compartiments du milieu, le plus à gauche renfermait trois couronnes de feuillages entourant des bustes que les déprédations de la Révolution avaient rendues illisibles déjà à l’époque de Piffault. L’autre contenait un médaillon fait de cercles concentriques sur le pourtour duquel on lisait une sentence tirée du psaume CXIII : Non nobis domine – Non nobis – Sed nomini tuo da gloriam (Ce n’est pas à nous, Seigneur, ce n’est pas à nous, mais c’est à toi que revient la gloire). Des deux côtés du médaillon, deux génies ailés portaient des écussons, l’un aux armes de France, l’autre, selon Georges Lioret, indéchiffrable. Au-dessus de la frise, les arcades faisaient place à des baies à claire-voie, scandées de bandeaux et meneaux ornés de sujets mythologiques. L’ensemble était surmonté d’une autre sentence latine : Qui scit frenare linguam sensumque domare fortior est qui frangit viribus urbes (Qui sait réfréner sa langue et dompter ses sens est plus fort que celui qui s’empare des villes par la force).

Fig. 1. Charles Renoux, Maison dite de François Ier à Moret avant son transfert à Paris, 1822
(CD92 / Musée du Domaine départemental de Sceaux. Photographie Pascal Lemaître)

Un tableau de Charles Renoux (Fig. 1) donne une idée de ce qu’était devenue la galerie en 1820. Les fenêtres à claire voie de l’étage étaient alors partiellement obturées, les arcades du rez-de-chaussée l’étaient totalement. On discerne les bas-reliefs surmontant la porte donnant sur l’escalier, et une partie de ceux qui se trouvent au-dessus de l’arcade de droite. Ayant cessé depuis près d’un siècle d’être la propriété des Chabouillé, l’ensemble du logis était divisé entre deux ménages qui louaient la galerie à un certain Ambroise Colson, tonnelier. Celui-ci en avait fait sa remise et avait construit un hangar dans la cour. Sur la gauche du tableau, on peut voir la porte à deux vantaux servant d’entrée à la façade intérieure du bâtiment situé entre rue et cour.

Fig. 2. La façade François Ier, d’après Nicolas Xavier Willemin, Monuments français inédits, pour servir à l’histoire des arts…, Paris, 1839, t. 2, planches 227 et 228. (Bibliothèque nationale de France).

Sans doute inspirées du tableau de Renoux (ainsi que d’une aquarelle d’Antoine-Laurent Castellan conservée au château de Fontainebleau), deux gravures plus tardives prétendent représenter l’état originel de la frise. La première, due à Nicolas Xavier Willemin et publiée en 1839 (Fig. 2), montre les deux compartiments les plus à gauche, ainsi que les éléments ornant la porte à deux vantaux du bâtiment entre rue et cour ; parmi ces éléments, on peut lire la sentence : Jeune gouvernement suit le vent. La seconde, œuvre d’Eugène Sadoux datant vraisemblablement de la deuxième moitié du XIXe siècle (Fig. 3), permet de voir les putti s’ébattant sur les deux compartiments extrêmes, mais, pour le reste de la frise, elle n’est pas d’une fidélité totale. C’est que ces deux gravures ont été exécutées après que la façade eut subi des vicissitudes qui l’ont notablement transformée.

Fig. 3. Eugène Sadoux, Maison dite de François Ier à Moret (CD92/ Musée du Domaine départemental de Sceaux. Photographe Benoît Chain). La gravure prétend représenter la façade telle qu’elle était à Moret, mais la porte donnant sur l’escalier en est absente et les cercles concentriques au-dessus de l’arcade du milieu sont devenus une couronne végétale.

Car le colonel de Brack, actionnaire d’une société possédant des terrains entre l’avenue des Champs-Élysées et le cours la Reine (aujourd’hui cours Albert 1er), à Paris, en avait fait l’acquisition en 1822. Il comptait la faire démonter pour la remonter à Paris et en orner un hôtel encore à construire qu’il devait habiter avec la tragédienne Mademoiselle Mars. Dûment numérotées, les pierres quittèrent Moret le 1er décembre 1822, et le bâtiment fut achevé en 1826, avec, donnant sur le cours la Reine, une nouvelle version de la façade venue de Moret.

On avait ajouté une travée aveugle à droite de la façade et la travée la plus à gauche était devenue aveugle elle aussi puisque la porte donnant à l’origine sur un escalier n’avait plus de raison d’être, l’escalier lui-même étant resté en place à Moret, où il se trouve toujours. L’ajout de cette travée nécessitait qu’un cinquième compartiment vînt compléter la frise qui courait à la base de l’étage. Les deux compartiments contenant les putti furent conservés mais le plus à droite surmontait désormais la nouvelle travée aveugle et non plus l’une des arcades. Les bustes mutilés surmontant l’arcade de gauche furent remplacés par trois bustes portant les mentions : « Louis XII année 1499 », « Anne de Bretagne année 1499 », « François II année 1539 ». Les cercles concentriques du compartiment suivant devinrent une couronne végétale à l’intérieur de laquelle on apposa un buste portant la mention « Marguerite de Navarre année [les sources ne donnent pas la date qui suivait, et qui est aujourd’hui effacée] ». Le compartiment surmontant l’arcade de droite fut meublé de trois bustes portant les mentions : « Henri II année 1547 », « Diane de Poitiers année 1515 » et « François Ier année 1515 ». Si les restaurateurs ont voulu garder la tonalité Renaissance de l’ensemble, on voit que deux de ces dates sont postérieures à la date probable de la construction de la galerie originelle.

Fig. 4. Anonyme, La maison dite de François Ier, à l’angle de la rue Bayard et du cours La Reine, à Paris (début du XXe siècle) (Musée Carnavalet)

On éleva également sur la gauche de la façade un pilastre semblable à ceux qui séparaient les arcades, ce qui était aussi un ajout puisque le tableau de Renoux montre que la galerie se raccordait directement sur sa gauche au bâtiment qui lui était perpendiculaire. Quant à la porte à deux vantaux et aux ornements qui la surmontaient, sa partie basse fut installée dans le vestibule de l’hôtel, et son couronnement devint un motif décoratif dans la cour d’entrée. C’est certainement la raison pour laquelle ces ornements apparaissent comme dispersées sur la gravure de Willemin : ils l’étaient bel à bien à l’époque où il l’a exécutée. Du reste, on peut penser que, bien que prétendant représenter la façade telle qu’elle était encore à Moret, sa gravure, tout comme celle de Sadoux, doit autant à ce qu’il avait sous les yeux à Paris qu’à ce qu’il avait pu voir chez Renoux et Castellan.

À peine leur hôtel achevé, le colonel et la tragédienne, ruinés, durent le mettre en vente. Ils espérèrent que la duchesse d’Angoulême l’achèterait pour son neveu le duc de Bordeaux mais l’affaire ne se fit pas et la maison ne fut vendue qu’en 1829 à un certain Charles Buchère, qui la laissa plus ou moins à l’abandon. Elle changea ensuite plusieurs fois de mains jusqu’à ce que son dernier propriétaire, le comte d’Ussel, la cède en 1955 à un promoteur qui souhaitait construire à son emplacement un immeuble de bureaux. La vente se fit sous la condition que la façade retournerait, aux frais de l’acquéreur, à la ville de Moret.

La ville accepta le don mais le remontage était à sa charge. L’emplacement d’origine n’étant plus disponible, on remonta le monument dans la cour de l’Hôtel de Ville. Si l’ensemble des pierres composant la façade fut rapatrié, on ne remonta pas la travée ajoutée à Paris, de sorte que, sous sa forme actuelle, la galerie comporte comme à l’origine trois arcades flanquées sur la gauche d’une travée désormais aveugle. Comme l’un des cinq compartiments parisiens composant la frise de l’étage était de trop, on sacrifia celui qui surmontait à Paris la travée aveugle de droite. La porte à deux battants donnant à l’origine sur la façade intérieure du bâtiment entre rue et cour fut rétablie dans son orientation primitive, mais comme porte fictive puisque cette façade n’est plus qu’un pan de mur. Des sentences qui agrémentaient l’ensemble, ne subsiste que le Qui sit frenare, etc. et, au-dessus de l’arcade la plus à droite, la séquence vvat-annosam-et-m–t——–producere, seul débris subsistant du Qui juvat annosam, etc.

Fig. 5. La façade François Ier dans son état actuel. 25 novembre 2025 (Photographie D. Casajus). À gauche, le pan de mur avec la porte à deux vantaux.

Ce monument composite est classé Monument historique depuis 2002 comme l’avait été sa version parisienne jusqu’à son démontage. La ville de Moret s’en enorgueillit comme d’un bâtiment Renaissance, sans trop s’appesantir sur les contributions que le XIXe et le XXe siècles lui ont ajoutées.

Références

Albert Bray, « Maison Chabouillé, dite Maison de François Ier », Notre Canton, 1956, avril à décembre, p. 162-167.

Albert Bray, « Le retour à Moret de la “maison de François Ier “», Les Monuments historiques de la France, 1958, 1, p. 42-46.

Dominique Casajus, « Petit excursus philologique sur un monument de Moret », Revue des Amis de Moret et de sa Région, 252, 2025, p. 26-29.

Georges Lioret, La Maison de Moret dite de François Ier, Fontainebleau, Maurice Bourges Imprimeur, 1910.

Louis-Antoine Piffault, Description historique de la ville de Moret, de son canton, de son commerce et de ses environs, s. d., Archives départementales de Seine-et-Marne 1MI1970 (microfilm).

A Modern Ethiopian Artwork in Contemporary Greece

Maria-Mirka Palioura

In 2003, the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens received a significant donation from Aikaterini Exarchou-Gensonnet (1921-2005), an expatriate from Ethiopia. The collection included antiquities, jewelry and church paraphernalia from Ethiopia, alongside a small but notable collection of twenty paintings by Ethiopian artists. These paintings –tempera on parchment and processed textile– are probably dated to the second half of the 20th century. The artworks were incorporated into the Modern and Contemporary Art Collection of the University Museum and showcased in a 2005 exhibition at the Kostis Palamas University building in central Athens. The exhibition, titled “Ethiopian Folk Art: Painting – Handicraft, Donation of Aikaterini Exarchou” was curated by the late Art History professor, Nikos Zias (1939-2020), who also edited the accompanying Greek language catalogue (Λαϊκή Αιθιοπική Τέχνη: Ζωγραφική, 2005).

The collection’s artworks depict themes related to Christian faith and worship, historical memory and everyday life. Among these is a notable piece by Qengeta Jembere Hailu (Andabiet, 1913-Addis Ababa 1994), which portrays the First Italo-Ethiopian War of 1896, specifically Τhe Battle of Adwa (March 1, 1896) (Jonas, 2011) (Fig. 1). This decisive victory secured Ethiopia’s independence for several decades, lasting until 1935, when the second Italo-Ethiopian war began. The Battle of Adwa remains a significant historical reference point in the broader context of anti-colonial resistance, not only in Ethiopia but across Africa (The Adwa Victory Memorial, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia).

Qangeta Jembere Hailu, The Battle of Adwa

Fig. 1. Qangeta Jembere Hailu, The Battle of Adwa, 2nd half of 20th c., tempera on cloth, 76Χ129 cm. (National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, University Museum, Modern and Contemporary Art Collection)

In this context, Hailu’s work is of particular interest due to its multi-layered narratives. It reflects an event from the history of Ethiopia while also engaging with its reception within collective memory. At the same time, as an artwork that was sold and transported beyond Africa, ending up in the museum of an educational institution in a European country which does not have a colonial past, it embodies the complexities of cultural circulation. Its inclusion in the museum’s collections marks a new chapter in its biography – where official history and individual stories intersect – creating a canvas of fragmented memories, connotations and fluid interpretations.

Qangeta Jembere Hailu, a priest and renowned painter of traditional art, trained under his uncle, who specialized in religious themes subjects for Ethiopian temples. Hailu adhered to the so-called “traditional” style of Ethiopian painting, characterized by religious iconography and historical narratives. His life was marked by resistance; he fought in the second Italo-Ethiopian war (1935-1936) and later during the Italian occupation (1936-1941). After settling in Addis Ababa in 1948, He took up the paintbrush and resumed his artistic practice sustaining himself through his artwork until his death in 1994. His career, however, was notably affected by the political shift in 1974 with the rise of the Derg junta. The regime’s establishment curtailed the interest of foreign tourists, who were looking for something local and exotic (Silverman and Fisseha 1999, 156-179). Through his depiction of The battle of Antowa, according to the contemporary pictorial language in Ethiopia, very different from the European naturalistic perception, Hailu contributed to the glorification of Ethiopia’s victorious past, particularly the reign of Emperor Menelik II (Atse Menilik) (r. 1889 -1913) (Fig. 2).

The Battle of Antowa: The Last Rally of General Dabormida,

Fig. 2. The Battle of Antowa: The Last Rally of General Dabormida, The Graphic, 11 April 1896 (Wikimedia Commons)

The abundance of pictorial parallel representations of the battle of Adwa testifies to the existence of a visual template established in the late 19th century. This template not only shaped artistic conventions but also resonated strongly with the buying public—a trend that persists to this day. The recurrence of almost identically painted renderings of the battle constitutes an intriguing subject for further scholarly investigation, offering insights into the dynamics of visual tradition, collective memory, and the commodification of historical narratives (Fig. 3 and 4).

Unknown, The Battle of Adwa, first half of 20th c.

Fig. 3. Unknown, The Battle of Adwa, first half of 20th c. (National Museum of African Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D. C.)

Marcos Jembere (Qangeta Jembere’s son), Battle of Adwa

Fig. 4. Marcos Jembere (Qangeta Jembere’s son), Battle of Adwa, 1993, 293,91 by 150 cm (Michigan State University Museum)

Several versions of the subject preserved in different museums are available online: The Battle of Adwa, 1896 (Horniman Museum and Gardens, UK); three versions of The Battle of Adwa, first half of 20th c., Smithsonian Institution, National Museum of African Art; The Battle of Adwa, 1940-1949 (The British Museum)  ; The Battle of Adwa, 1975, by Shibru Nuru (Library of Congress, African and Middle Eastern Division, Ethiopian Collection) ; The Battle of Adwa, (Wereldmuseum, Amsterdam).

The Battle of Adwa is part of the secular themes that, as early as the 19th century, appeared in ecclesiastical murals depicting battles and portraits of local lords (Biasio 2009, 14-25). The composition is structured vertically and in overlapping zones, forming two distinct solid parts where the opposing camps are aligned with their respective flags symbolizing national identity. The Ethiopian tricolor flag, depicted twice, presents a visual anachronism as it was officially established by Emperor Menelik II in October 1897, a year after the battle.

Historical elements are evident in the composition (Fig. 1), such as the numerical superiority of the Ethiopian army with the suggestive presence of countless heads, and the obvious organized military formation of the Italian army behind low fortifications. The figures of Emperor Menelik II, his court dignitaries and the Ethiopian church, Empress Taitu, and Commander-in-chief Tafari (second zone left) embody the intersection of secular and religious authority in the struggle. The central placement of the onrushing Ethiopians in the center –amongst them the prominent hero general (Fitaurari) Gebeyehu– defines the battlefield and reinforces the heroic element. The depiction of fallen dead Ethiopians at the lower zone reinforces the connotations of heroic sacrifice for the country’s independence. Saint George, Ethiopia’s patron saint, is illustrated in the upper central part, haloed with the colors of the Ethiopian flag, symbolically assisting the Ethiopians by menacingly brandishing his spear toward the Italian army.

The austere design, absence of perspective, flatness, isocephaly, vivid colors, honesty, and balanced composition reflect the iconographic tradition of Ethiopia as well as of Coptic art. The intense narrativity is further enriched by explanatory inscriptions in the official Amharic script. The top left identifies the painter and his origin (Kegn Geta Jenbere Hailu from Gondar), the flags of the two enemies (Ethiopia, Italy) and Saint George. Below, an inscription records the defeat of the Italians (The Battle of Adwa, the victory of the Ethiopian army and the defeat of the Italian army). Notably, Ethiopian protagonists of the battle are distinctly highlighted, while the Italian side is noted once (left, among the Italian soldiers). Emperor Menelik (Atse Menilik) is depicted with a crown of feathers (top left), and Chief general (Fitaurari) Gebeyehu, dressed in green costume and wielding a bloody sword, is discernible at top center of the painting.

The Battle of Adwa aligns with the 20th-century Ethiopian artistic production, conventionally categorized as “traditional” art. Alternatively, it may be considered “non-Western art” (Davies 2000, 199-216), a term that better encapsulates works produced post-1930s for foreign markets. Stanislaw Chojnacki labeled such art as “degenerate” (Silverman and Fisseha 1999, 158) considering that “modernization” or “Europeanization” severed its ties with Ethiopian Christian painting traditions. This perspective reflects Western biases regarding “authenticity”, often overlooking the evolving dynamics of this artistic language.

Hailu’s painting related to traditional forms, categorized as “antika” or “airport art”, addresses the need to construct a “great tradition of a powerful state”; appealing to foreign visitors of the country seeking “authentic” Ethiopian artifacts (Rubinkowska-Anioł 2017, 114). The acquisition of The Battle of Adwa, by Aikaterini Exarchou, fits into this context. The painting idealizes historical and cultural values, expressing an objective truth through iconography.

Upon transfer to Greece and donation to the Museum of the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, the painting assumed a new semantic context. Approximately twenty years earlier, in the first exhibition held in 2005, the museum engaged with the Ethiopian community in Athens. Today, within the context of this collection’s imminent re-exhibition, the museum is facing the challenge of adopting new policies distinguishing this collection of paintings from Ethiopian antiquities, amassed through colonial-type practices. Amidst global discourse on decolonizing academic collections, the University Museum has an opportunity to reassess its approach, considering the historical Greek presence in Ethiopia.

The value of The Battle of Adwa extends beyond aesthetics to encompass Ethiopia’s collective memory. It also testifies to the personal aesthetic of A. Exarchou, who was an artist herself and acquired the painting, during her long stay in the country with her husband –an engineer– in the 1960s. The painting, a memorabilia of her life, holds multifaceted significance. Detailed documentation of this work and the rest of the paintings acquired by Exarchou ensures their proper future exhibition (Sfyroera 2013, 92) aligned with her intent to share her collection with the public, especially students and pupils. In Spring 2024, the University Museum took a preliminary step by exhibiting works from the collection alternately at the entrance of the library building of the Faculty of Philosophy (Fig. 5).

Qangeta Jembere Hailu, The Fest [in Gondar]

Fig. 5. Qangeta Jembere Hailu, The Fest [in Gondar], 2nd half of 20th c., tempera on cloth, 77 by 108 cm (National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, University Museum, Modern and Contemporary Art Collection)

In addition, the museum can explore and incorporate connections between the Ethiopian community in Greece with their national past and culture. In this framework, The Battle of Adwa can serve as an idiosyncratic site of collective memory (lieu de mémoire), for Ethiopian immigrants in Greece, a cultural artifact fostering collective identity across generations. At the same time, the painting bridges past and present and future, by engaging with long-lasting issues regarding European perceptions of diverse historical and cultural experiences.

Many thanks to Assera Debele, the director of the Ethiopian Socio-Cultural Center “Aithiops” based in Athens, for his valuable assistance in translation, as well as to Prof. P. Petrides and Dr. M. Leontari.

References

Elisabeth Biasio, “Contemporary Ethiopian Painting in Traditional Style. From Church based to Tourist Art”, African Arts 42, no. 1, Spring 2009, p. 14-25.

Stephen Davies, “Non-Western Art and Art’s Definition” in Noël Carroll (ed.), Theories of Art Today, Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2000, p. 199-216.

Raymond Jonas, The Battle of Adwa, African Victory in the Age of Empire, Harvard University Press, Belknap Press, 2011.

Λαϊκή Αιθιοπική Τέχνη: Ζωγραφική – Χειροτεχνία. Δωρεά Αικατερίνης Εξάρχου [Ethiopian Folk Art: PaintingHandicraft, Aikaterini Exarchou Donation], Exhibition Catalogue, Athens: National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, 2005.

Alexandra S. Sfyroera, “Aikaterina Exarchou-Gensonnet and the Museum of Archaeology and History of Art. The chronicle of a ‘reciprocal relationship’ through the pages of her personal archive, Volume of Abstracts (Greek – English), Νinth Scientific Symposium, Excavation and research, IX: From the Research Work of the Archaeology Department and Art History, National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, 2013.

Raymond A. Silverman and Girma Fisseha, “Jembere and his son Marcos, Traditional Painting at the End of Twentieth Century” in Raymond A. Silverman (ed.), Ethiopia, Traditions of Creativity, East Lansing: Michigan State University Museum/Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1999, p. 156-181.

Hanna Rubinkowska-Anioł, “Antika – Ethiopian Airport Art as a Construction of Tradition”, in A. Pawłowska, A. Drozdowski and A. Kuczyńska (eds), The Artistic Traditions of Non-European Cultures, University of Warsaw, Polish Institute of World Art Studies, Vol. 5, 2017, p. 113-128.