Panel with protomes of horses

In Egypt, in both antiquity and the Islamic period, wood—despite its rarity—was a commonly used medium, and often had to be imported from around the world. While the Fātimids maintained several forests of Nile Acacias, they could not cope with the high demands of naval construction and architecture. Syria and the Sudan—as well as more far-flung countries—supplied the caliphate with woods of varying rarity (pinewood, oak, Cyprus, ebony, rosewood, etc.). The dry Egyptian climate has helped preserve many wooden creations. However, they can also be observed in the eighth century in Syria, and in the ninth century in Iraq[1]. In the Maghrib, the art of woodcarving was also common, as attested by the minbar in the Andalusian Mosque in Fez, dating from the end of the tenth century; it was also used, later, in marquetry, as in the case of the minbar of the Kutubiya in Marrakech[2].

This object, like a similar one held at New York[3], probably belonged to a larger ensemble, like a door. A door leaf, held in the Museum of Islamic Art in Cairo, has in fact similar panels; it probably comes from the  western Fātimid palace in Cairo, restored in 1058 by Caliph al-Mustansir, which may suggest that the panel of horses also originates from the palace. Many Fātimid wooden pieces exist that were made in the Muslim and Coptic contexts, with similar compositions—a rectangle with a markedly vertical symmetrical axis, from which emerge complex vegetal entrelacs with occasionally split stems. The doors of the western Fātimid palace in Cairo discovered in the māristān of Qalā'ūn, the iconostasis in the Saint Barbara Church,  and the doors of Santa Maria dell’Ammiraglia in Palermo are some other examples. 

Carved on several planes, ranging from very high relief to engraving, this panel’s techniques  are typical of eleventh-century Fātimid woodworking, which differs from the bevelled carving that was previously practised under the influence of the Samārran style. Despite their very stylized treatment, it is to be noted that the horse tacks and the anatomy of the hair are treated with great precision: the eyes, mouth, and nostril are all delineated by engraving. These details may indicate a desire for realism that can occasionally be seen in Fātimid art.

The two horse protomes (upper bodies) are not placed on vegetal tendrils, but appear to be part of them. Their necks emerge from it, and their ears are transformed into scrollwork. This aesthetic representation of  metamorphosis wasn’t new in Islamic arts. The Tūlinid panel with the bird in the Louvre Museum has the same ambiguity between animal motifs and vegetal palmettes. Later, on twelfth-century Near-Eastern painted ceramics under glaze, animal designs often terminate in vegetal motifs[4]. The same was true in Anatolia during the reign of the Seljuks of Rum, as attested, for example, by the carved eagles in the hospital of Divrigi. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in Iran, then in Anatolia, and in Jazira, the same aesthetic theme is present in the animated inscriptions on certain metals.

In Europe, the transformation of an animal or a person into a vegetal design was also an ancient idea. The legends of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, written at the start of the Christian era, resulted in a plethora of artistic representations. The nymph Daphne was usually represented in the act of turning into an olive tree, both on a second-century Roman mosaic and a famous sculpture by Bernini. In the margins of medieval manuscripts, the dropped initials and the decorative motifs evolving into animals were also common.

[3] Door panel, Egypt, the eleventh century, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 11.205.2

[4] Vase with two-headed eagles, Jezira, twelfth to thirteenth century, the Louvre Museum, Paris, AO 8178