Only surviving full Māori green parrot feather cloak goes on display in Perth

The kahu kākāpō, after conservation ©2022 Trustees of the British Museum, ©2022 Culture Perth and Kinross.The only surviving complete example of a Māori kahu kākāpō, a traditional cloak made of the feathers of the critically endangered green, ground-dwelling kākāpō parrot, has been restored and put on display for the grand opening of the new Perth Museum in Perth, Scotland.

The kākāpō, charmingly nicknamed the moss chicken, is the world’s only flightless parrot and was once common on the three main islands of New Zealand. Its population began to decline with the arrival of Polynesian settlers. The humans hunted them for their meat and feathers and the rats the humans brought with them devastated their eggs and chicks. The arrival of Europeans drove them to the brink of extinction. Attempts to maintain populations of the birds in nature preserves began in the late 19th century, but were thwarted by introduced predators like stoats and feral cats. Finally in the 1980s the Kākāpō Recovery plan was developed, establishing populations on islands cleared of predators. Breeding and feeding programs have helped bring a small population of around 270 back, and just last year the first kākāpō were reintroduced to the mainland.

The cloak was collected by David Ramsay, a native of Perth who sailed to Australia as a ship’s surgeon in 1823 and stayed there. He gave the kahu kākāpō and the rest of his collection to the Perth Literary and Antiquarian Society in 1842. The cloak is believed to have been made in the early 1800s, after contact with Europeans, and was well-preserved overall, but the feathers and plant fibers it is made of are so inherently fragile that any handling at all can cause damage and loss.

Today the kahu is in the permanent collection of the Perth Museum and Art Gallery (PMAG). PMAG turned to the British Museum’s Organic Artefact Conservation studio for expert assistance in treating the delicate materials and brought in a Māori curatorial advisor from the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa to ensure the taonga (meaning “treasure”) was treated in keeping with Māori cultural practices.

Once arrived at the British Museum, the cloak was examined to determine the areas of greatest concern. The feather shafts and the dried, unprocessed stands of New Zealand flax (pōkinikini) required urgent stabilization.

The feathers of the kākāpō had been woven into the ground weave of the cloak by their very fine, thin shafts. Over time, some of the feathers had become bent, partially split at their shafts, or completely detached from the weave. To support them, a strong but lightweight mulberry paper was used, after being toned and cut to match the colour and very narrow lengths of each damaged shaft, which were often less than 2mm wide. Each piece was then carefully secured along individual shafts with a conservation grade adhesive and left to dry under gentle pressure.

The treatment of the pōkinikini required similarly delicate care. The black, dyed sections along the pōkinikini lengths were likely coloured with an iron-tannin dye, which over time had eaten away at the fibres, making the dyed areas exceedingly weak.

To support these areas, narrow strips of lightweight mulberry paper were toned to match the pokinikini’s alternating dyed and undyed stripes. The paper strips were then applied as discreet bridges, linking sections of damaged pōkinikini to ensure no areas were lost. For other types of damage, toned mulberry paper was pulped into fibres, and then carefully inserted into the centre of the cylindrical pōkinikini strand to bring together and support the split fibres. Overall, the treatment for these fragile elements required more than 100 hours of sustained focus and manual dexterity, along with very fine-tipped forceps and strong magnification!

To investigate how this cloak was worn, the team made a mock-up of a stand to drape it on. They realized the wear pattern in the feathers on the left and top edges suggests the cloak was worn with an opening on the right. The holds where the laces were threaded through were barely stretched at all, indicating the cloak was worn rarely. The museum then made a custom mount so it can be displayed safely.

The new Perth Museum, located in the former Perth City Hall, officially opened its doors Saturday, March 30th, with the kahu kākāpō one of the key displays.

The portrait that ensnared a king restored

The iconic portrait of Anne of Cleves, fourth wife of Henry VIII, that enchanted the king into marrying her, has been cleaned and conserved by Louvre experts for the first time since it was painted, restoring its original colors and glow. The portrait, painted by Henry’s court painter Hans Holbein the Younger, is much lighter now that the yellowed varnish layer is gone. The formerly murky teal background is a bright blue; the gold and jewels of her gown and headdress visible in great detail. Her skin, once sallow, is a dewy pink again.

In 1538, Henry sent his court painter Holbein to Düren to capture Anne of Cleves’ likeness so Henry could see her before deciding whether to marry her. For ease of transportation, it was painted on vellum that was later glued to wood instead of painting directly onto wood panel. Holbein was usually known for the verisimilitude of his portraits, but he had to thread a bit of a diplomatic needle with this commission. He couldn’t flatter Anne too much or Henry would be deceived in his future wife’s features, but the officials of Cleves would vet it before it was sent to England, so too much realism wouldn’t do either.

Holbein depicts Anne dressed in an opulent red silk gown with gold and pearl trim, her round, cherubic face looking placidly at the viewer through lidded eyes. Her features are petite and symmetrical and her expressionless face evocative of the highly stylized archaic smile of a kouros statue. The Anne in the portrait appealed to Henry well enough, and as an alliance to the powerful, rich Protestant Duchy of Cleves even more so. It would give isolated England a whole new friend group among the central and northern European Lutheran countries. The marriage moved forward.

The woman herself, however, repulsed him. Rather than a petite, delicate cypher, she was tall and broad. When he saw her in person for the first time, he felt the portrait had deceived him. Her did not find her physically attractive, nor did she attract him with her personality. She spoke no English, played no instruments and was generally a listless companion for a social butterfly like Henry. To preserve England’s relationship with the Protestant rulers of Europe, Henry VIII negotiated a very generous divorce agreement and six months after their marriage, Anne of Cleves graduated from fourth wife to “sister of the King,” and left the throne laden with riches and properties. She was friends with Henry for the rest of his life, and lived a long one herself, spending her fortune on sumptuous clothes, fine dining, gambling and hunting.

Sole surviving ancient Greek funerary relief of twin babies unveiled

The National Archaeological Museum of Athens has unveiled a fragment of a funerary stele that is the only surviving carving of a pair of twin babies in arms from ancient Greece. The marble infants cradled in a pair of female hands date to the 4th century B.C. and were likely part of a tomb marker of a woman who died in childbirth.

The “stele of the twin babies” was discovered in a stream in Menidi, a municipality a few miles north of downtown Athens, by a shell collector in 2008. He swaddled the marble infants in an old cloth and brought them to the National Archaeological Museum. They have now gone on display as part of the museum’s Unseen Museum initiative. The exhibition puts the spotlight on objects in the museum’s vaults, pulling antiquities out of storage and in front of the public for the first time.

The heads of the twins are standing out from their swaddling clothes and the mother’s hands are seen holding their little bodies next to each other. […]

This is the only surviving funerary relief of the ancient Greek world depicting twin babies in the same arms, which indicates their common fate as orphans, the museum says in a statement.

The museum published a collage image of the stele of the twin babies with the relief of Philonoe, suggesting a reconstructed image of what the tombstone might have looked like as a whole.

The stele of the twin babies went on display Thursday, March 21st, and will be in the museum’s Altar Hall through Monday, May 13th. On eight days during the course of the exhibition, museum archaeologists will share the history of the stele of the twin babies, its discovery, its context, the significance of twins in Greek mythology and the lives and deaths of children in ancient Greece.

Rare medieval belt loop found in Poland

A rare medieval belt loop used to hang keys or a purse has been discovered near Kamień Pomorski in northwestern Poland. It is one of only about 15 of this type of belt loop known, and the only one of them found in Poland. It was discovered by metal detectorist Damian Tomczyk scanning the area with the approval of local heritage authorities.

The bronze figure is 2.2 inches high and depicts an anthropomorphic figure with hands on hips forming circular divots on the side of the torso. Diagonal, horizontal and vertical cuts on the surface of the chest and waist convey the draping of a tunic typical of the Late Gothic period. A triangular cutout separates the two legs that appear to be clad in hose. The figure stands on a rounded shape with a hole where keys or an alms purse or pouch would have hung. A belt would be threaded through an open rectangular mount on the back.

This type of belt loop was produced in southern Germany, created by Bavarian craftsmen probably in Nuremberg which was a center of bronze work since the 14th century. Indeed, of the surviving examples, 12 of them were found in Germany, most of them in Bavaria.

The finder has donated the artifact to the Kamień Land History Museum which has two late medieval bronze belt loops in its collection, one of them with the similar cross-hatched garment and arm holes. This newly-discovered example is larger and in better condition.

Bodleian acquires rare Bach manuscript

Johann Sebastian Bach, 1685–1750 Cantata 'Auf Christi Himmelfahrt allein', BWV 128 [1725]. Photo courtesy the Bodleian Libraries.The University of Oxford’s Bodleian Libraries have acquired a rare autograph manuscript by German Baroque composer Johann Sebastian Bach. One of only four manuscripts in the UK written in Bach’s hand, the document was accepted by the government in lieu of £3.65 million in inheritance taxes.

Also known as the Kohn manuscript after collector Sir Ralph Kohn who fled Nazi Germany for England in 1940, the 16-page manuscript is Bach’s composition of his cantata for the feast of the Ascension Day, May 10, 1725: “Auf Christi Himmelfahrt Allein.” This is the only surviving working manuscript of this cantata and it is the complete score. The music would not be printed until 1878.

Kohn had previously loaned the manuscript for exhibition at Buckingham Palace in the early 2000s. He died in 2016 and his widow Zahava inherited his collection. She has now passed away as well and her heirs paid the tax bill with the manuscript.

The short, festive cantata, which lasts less than 20 minutes in performance, is scored for two horns, three different types of oboe, trumpet, strings and continuo, with four-part chorus, and alto, tenor and bass soloists. Its five movements comprise a celebratory opening chorus, a short recitative and aria for bass voice, a duet for alto and tenor, ending with a simple chorale. The music for this cantata was all new, which is relatively unusual for Bach who frequently recycled and adapted movements from his other compositions. The music for many of his cantatas has not survived at all.

The manuscript comprises four large-format bifolia (16 pages), handwritten by the composer himself in brown and black ink. The title is written above the first page of music: ‘Festo Ascensionis Xsti, Auff Christi Himmelfahrt allein’, preceded by Bach’s personal epigraph ‘J.J.’, which stands for ‘Jesu Juva’ (‘Jesus, Help’). This is Bach’s composing score, a working document in which the composer made many corrections and revisions, especially in the opening chorus. The manuscript also contains some annotations by Bach’s eldest son, Wilhelm Friedemann, and a few faint pencil marks made by the printers as they prepared the work for its first publication in 1878.

As Cantor of the Thomasschule in Leipzig, Bach was expected to compose a new cantata for practically every Sunday of the church year, as well as special festivals like Ascension Day. Much of the writing betrays signs of great haste: for example, bar lines straggle down pages and there is little attempt to maintain the vertical alignment of the different parts. It is also interesting to see how Bach achieves his alterations by a variety of means: sometimes by scratching out the text with a pin, or simply by crossing through with his pen. The smudges made accidentally by his hand or sleeve before the ink was dry add a personal touch to the manuscript. Occasionally, where Bach has deleted notes or passages and heavily gone over various sections with his pen, the acidic ink has eroded the paper. This is unfortunately a common problem with the surviving Bach autographs, but this example is better than most, presenting fairly limited signs of erosion.

Characteristically, Bach does his best to condense the maximum amount of music into the minimum space, keen to avoid wasting valuable paper wherever possible. Every corner of the page is filled, the music flowing right to the edge. The dramatic immediacy on the page and the evident haste in which the composer wrote down his music, impart a sense of urgency and creative energy to Bach’s scores, which are often extremely beautiful in their own right. This manuscript is no exception.

The Kohn manuscript went on display March 15th in the Weston Library’s Treasury as part of the Write, Cut, Rewrite exhibition which runs through January 5, 2025. The full manuscript has been digitized and uploaded to the library’s online collection, Digital Bodleian. A performance of the work to celebrate the 300th anniversary of its first performance in 1725 is being planned.