This annotation was created by Emilia Porubcin. The last update was by Christina J. Hodge.

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Our Dark Materials: Rediscovering an Egyptian Collection

MAKING & MAKERS

The student curators of Our Dark Materials discovered a paradox: attentiveness to objects does not necessarily replace an interest in people. Rather, scrutiny of the material qualities of things can actually bring the people who made and used those things closer to mind.

How did they create these pieces of stone, bronze, ceramic, and organic materials? What technologies did they employ; what decisions did they make? What larger forces shaped their individual expressions? These questions apply equally to common things and those of rare wealth and consequence.

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This coffin covering was intended to protect the remains of a woman—likely named Senchalanthos—for eternity. What remains after the 1906 earthquake flattened Stanford’s museum is a puzzle of missing pieces, never to be completed. Among hundreds of fragments, we find: bright flower-shaped patterns, depictions of four funerary gods, and writing scrawled onto the cartonnage. The Demotic inscription reads: “May her name be rejuvenated every day.” In recognizing her name in this exhibit, we hope to rejuvenate her spirit.
While the rich and powerful were buried in tombs of stone, ancient Egyptians with smaller budgets buried their loved ones underneath a soul house like this one. These models represented shelter and offerings to sustain the deceased. A complete example is shown in a nearby picture. The fragments displayed here represent the deceased individual with a table and bowls of food, alongside cuts of meat. The rough fabric and cursory shaping of the clay highlight the common status of the recipient. This item was destroyed in the earthquake of 1906, but its surviving fragments are whole enough for interpretation. While the craftsman paid little attention to detail, this soul house was sturdy enough to fulfill its purposes: to survive the tests of time and provide continual offerings to the buried in the afterlife.
This small vessel is a model of a larger one and was intended for a funerary setting, probably of a modest person who could not afford full-sized accompaniments. With a rim opening only large enough to barely fit one finger inside, it is evidently too small to contain any liquids or food. Its hand-built construction is evident by the unbalanced base and thickly textured walls. That this object was neither thrown nor coiled suggests its early creation by a potter in Pre-dynastic Egypt.
These fragments preserve the image of an unknown individual in their ultimate, mummified state. Per artistic convention, the thick linear pattern, seen on both the mask and larger surrounding fragments, symbolizes the bandage wrappings encompassing the deceased. It likely framed other designs, including of the sister goddesses Iris and Nephthys. Although now divorced from the body, this cartonnage revitalizes the deceased through the pictorial and symbolic representations of them in life, death, and afterlife.
These fragments preserve the image of an unknown individual in their ultimate, mummified state. Per artistic convention, the thick linear pattern, seen on both the mask and larger surrounding fragments, symbolizes the bandage wrappings encompassing the deceased. It likely framed other designs, including of the sister goddesses Iris and Nephthys. Although now divorced from the body, this cartonnage revitalizes the deceased through the pictorial and symbolic representations of them in life, death, and afterlife.
Although this vessel was rediscovered recently with no identification, its material qualities illuminate its life’s details. Most Egyptian ceramics have a round base, but this vessel has a footring. Since footrings start appearing in the Ptolemaic period, this detail suggests that this vessel came from this period or later. The remarkable thinness of its walls suggests that a professional threw this vessel for sale to a wealthy individual.
This object is remarkable not for its trivial purpose or simple construction but for the careful efforts put into its conservation. The hole on its upper body marks a loss. It was originally a “spouted vessel” used to hold and pour liquid. When whole, it resembled the complete Pre-dynastic vessel (ca. 3500 BCE) shown in the accompanying image. Despite missing parts, inexpert mends, scratches, and damage, considerable effort was put into this vessel’s restoration in the early twentieth century when conservation practices weren’t as advanced as they are now. This determination highlights the importance of the vessel to the collector. We find value in the effort that went into making this common, simple vessel whole again.
Despite lacking provenance, these fragments provide significant interpretive possibility. They show the layout and ritual scenes typical of yellow-varnished coffins. White linen robes and a leopard’s-fur wrap identify the disembodied figures as priests. Hieroglyphs run along flat, abstract surfaces. They suggest the formulaic “[Osiris] ruler-of-eternity” and reference the heart, seat of intelligence, memory, and action. Painted plaster has given way to fractured wood. Originally unseen, the fragments now invite us to study construction, materiality, and socioeconomic context.
The versatility of metal allowed craftsmen creatively to form the ubiquitous Osiris in varying poses. Osiris, one of the most popular gods of the Egyptian pantheon, was perceived during his lifetime as the incarnation of the principal god Horus and became Osiris after death. Osiris was eventually equated with all deceased individuals and became a symbol of resurrection, making him one of the most common deities to be formed as a funerary object. Bronze figurines of Osiris take two basic forms: seated or standing. There are also three common arm positions: crossed; fists touching; and right arm over left. This placement may be associated with different geographical regions in Egypt. Smaller bronze Osiris figurines cast with a loop were worn as amulets, kept close to the body in life and death to bestow protection, healing, and luck. The most technical of the three forms, the amulet required precision and advanced casting techniques in order to create the rear suspension ring.
The versatility of metal allowed craftsmen creatively to form the ubiquitous Osiris in varying poses. Osiris, one of the most popular gods of the Egyptian pantheon, was perceived during his lifetime as the incarnation of the principal god Horus and became Osiris after death. Osiris was eventually equated with all deceased individuals and became a symbol of resurrection, making him one of the most common deities to be formed as a funerary object. Bronze figurines of Osiris take two basic forms: seated or standing. There are also three common arm positions: crossed; fists touching; and right arm over left. This placement may be associated with different geographical regions in Egypt. Smaller bronze Osiris figurines cast with a loop were worn as amulets, kept close to the body in life and death to bestow protection, healing, and luck. The most technical of the three forms, the amulet required precision and advanced casting techniques in order to create the rear suspension ring.
This figurine is the Egyptian crocodile god Suchus (a.k.a. Sobek) missing his snout. The picture of a complete version from the same site is shown nearby. As it is an object meant for worship, it may seem odd that the object is so roughly constructed. For instance, when looking at the top of the object, one can clearly see the join between the figurine’s two molded sides. This careless construction elucidates that this object was intended for commoners. Such figurines were mass-produced for worshipers of Suchus to put on their altars at home.
Flint knapping is the art of chipping away material from flint or other fracturing stone to create sharp points or tools. An example of flint knapping at its finest, this ceremonial blade was made in pre-Dynastic Egypt, possibly as an honored burial item as it shows no wear. Blades like this are often discounted as primitive and unsophisticated because they’re made of stone. However, the perfect strokes and precise pressure flaking indicates that this blade was made by a sophisticated professional craftsman.
The versatility of metal allowed craftsmen creatively to form the ubiquitous Osiris in varying poses. Osiris, one of the most popular gods of the Egyptian pantheon, was perceived during his lifetime as the incarnation of the principal god Horus and became Osiris after death. Osiris was eventually equated with all deceased individuals and became a symbol of resurrection, making him one of the most common deities to be formed as a funerary object. Bronze figurines of Osiris take two basic forms: seated or standing. There are also three common arm positions: crossed; fists touching; and right arm over left. This placement may be associated with different geographical regions in Egypt. Smaller bronze Osiris figurines cast with a loop were worn as amulets, kept close to the body in life and death to bestow protection, healing, and luck. The most technical of the three forms, the amulet required precision and advanced casting techniques in order to create the rear suspension ring.
Pharaonic Egyptians were quite self-aware and conscious of their appearance, making mirrors a commonplace item among the elite in both life and death. Mirror handles varied in material and decoration. Men favored fewer embellishments than women. A close look at this mirror reveals a crosshatch pattern indented in its surface, evidence of its fabrication through hammering. Although no longer reflective, its common form creates a seamless connection between ancient Egyptian culture and contemporary society.
Despite lacking provenance, these fragments provide significant interpretive possibility. They show the layout and ritual scenes typical of yellow-varnished coffins. White linen robes and a leopard’s-fur wrap identify the disembodied figures as priests. Hieroglyphs run along flat, abstract surfaces. They suggest the formulaic “[Osiris] ruler-of-eternity” and reference the heart, seat of intelligence, memory, and action. Painted plaster has given way to fractured wood. Originally unseen, the fragments now invite us to study construction, materiality, and socioeconomic context.
A seemingly simple combination of a rod and chain links tells a story of appearance in ancient Egypt. Jewelry was an important component of everyday life of all classes in ancient and later Egypt. Gold and copper were typically reserved for the wealthy; however, the technology of bronze provided luxury at a fraction of the cost. We believe this bronze rod and chain was most likely a jewelry component, perhaps securing a necklace or wrist bangle, worn by a working member of later Egyptian society.
A spindle is used to spin and twist fibers into thread. In ancient Egypt, this thread was more than likely linen, a light cloth for the hot desert. Flax fibers were extracted from harvested flax seeds. These fibers were then spun, woven, and finally sewed by women at home. Egyptian writings describe spindles as early as circa 2000 BCE; however, spindles of that era were mostly crafted in wood, suggesting this is a later example. Despite being hundreds or even thousands years old, this spindle rivals spindles still being used today.
While the rich and powerful were buried in tombs of stone, ancient Egyptians with smaller budgets buried their loved ones underneath a soul house like this one. These models represented shelter and offerings to sustain the deceased. A complete example is shown in a nearby picture. The fragments displayed here represent the deceased individual with a table and bowls of food, alongside cuts of meat. The rough fabric and cursory shaping of the clay highlight the common status of the recipient. This item was destroyed in the earthquake of 1906, but its surviving fragments are whole enough for interpretation. While the craftsman paid little attention to detail, this soul house was sturdy enough to fulfill its purposes: to survive the tests of time and provide continual offerings to the buried in the afterlife.
Although this vessel was rediscovered recently with no identification, its material qualities illuminate its life’s details. Most Egyptian ceramics have a round base, but this vessel has a footring. Since footrings start appearing in the Ptolemaic period, this detail suggests that this vessel came from this period or later. The remarkable thinness of its walls suggests that a professional threw this vessel for sale to a wealthy individual.
This jar’s wavy ornamentation evokes the undulating flow of water. Early ceramicists decorated similar vessels with figural representations of animals, people, and ships to highlight the importance of the Nile River to Neolithic Egyptians. Pressing damp clay between his/her hand and a large, flat wooden paddle, the potter shaped a thin-walled vessel for the easy carrying and storing of grains, cereals, and other starches, residues of which are preserved inside.
While the rich and powerful were buried in tombs of stone, ancient Egyptians with smaller budgets buried their loved ones underneath a soul house like this one. These models represented shelter and offerings to sustain the deceased. A complete example is shown in a nearby picture. The fragments displayed here represent the deceased individual with a table and bowls of food, alongside cuts of meat. The rough fabric and cursory shaping of the clay highlight the common status of the recipient. This item was destroyed in the earthquake of 1906, but its surviving fragments are whole enough for interpretation. While the craftsman paid little attention to detail, this soul house was sturdy enough to fulfill its purposes: to survive the tests of time and provide continual offerings to the buried in the afterlife.

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