by: Sude Guvendik, Staff Writer

The realm of Orientalist art, which has undergone a significant shift in perception over time, is often criticized for its colonialist tendencies and distorted portrayal of the East. This 19th-century European genre depicted cultures of Asia, North Africa, and the Middle East as exotic and fantastical, often romanticizing them. It’s also been criticized for perpetuating stereotypes and biases. One of the most regrettable aspects of the early Orientalist movement is how it overlooked the vast repertoire of existing Eastern art, all while usurping the agency of the very cultures it claimed to represent. However, it’s experiencing a surprising resurgence and garnering attention, even captivating collectors from the Islamic world.

Picture this: 19th-century Middle East, when Europe was flexing its colonial muscles in the region. Those European artists? They were like the travel bloggers of their time, hitting up spots from the Maghreb to the Levant and sketching everything they laid eyes on. And they weren’t into those fancy art trends — no, they stuck to the good old romantic realism we see in Renaissance paintings. What’s the deal with Orientalist art, you ask? Well, it’s like this portal to the past. Specifically, the 19th-century Middle East. You know, that era when Europe was throwing its weight around at the expense of the self- determination and livelihoods of those living in the region.

Here’s the twist: back in the day, these artworks were like posters for Western imperialism — encroaching on and exploiting Eastern countries by force under Social Darwinism, or “survival of the fittest,” which was used to justify eugenics. You know, pushing that whole idea that Eastern cultures were a bit backwards and in desperate need of Western “enlightenment.” But here’s the kicker — many artists never even set foot in the region. Nope, they were working off travelogues, daydreams, and what they thought the non-Western world looked like — all mysterious and steamy.

Scenes of snake charmers, veiled women, and super devout worshippers captured the attention of British and French artists. But wait, what’s the magic ingredient? It’s how they painted this enchanting picture of North Africa and the Middle East through their literature and art, elevating them in the eyes of the West. But do these Orientalist fantasies created by European artists really give us a peek into the Eastern past, or are they just carrying problematic vibes? More importantly, how should we weigh the consequences of these portrayals? Of course the art produced out of dreams would have no depth. The Met Museum describes early French Orientalist paintings as “depicting the East as a place of backwardness, lawlessness, or barbarism enlightened and tamed by French rule.”

Not taking into consideration European romanticization, the Eastern world has built its own treasure trove of artwork and literature that spans centuries. We’re talking about the Epic of Gilgamesh and The Shahnameh — the rockstars of storytelling and poetry, potentially influencing works like The Odyssey and even entire cultures. The Middle East is like poetry central, with stories passed down like family recipes. Oh, and guess what? This tradition isn’t just in the Middle East — the Indian subcontinent and others are in on it, too. Unlike the organic creativity found in the East, Orientalist art sprung from Western daydreams and often got tangled up with imperial aspirations.

Flash forward to the organized Orientalist frenzy when the French and British decided to hit up Egypt and North Africa in the late 1700s. Suddenly, writers, thinkers, and artists were all about being “Orientalists.” The framing of North Africa and the Middle East by British and French Orientalists, through literature and art, captivated not only Western audiences but also those in the East.

The Islamic world has a unique approach to art, steering clear of portraying the human form primarily due to “aniconism.” This practice strictly prohibits the representation of living beings, especially humans and animals, in any form of visual art or imagery. For them, art wasn’t just art; it was a form of devotion, evident in their intricate calligraphy and those exquisite illuminated manuscripts. And the cool part? Islamic architecture and calligraphy even had an impact on European art.

Take Persia for example: they were the real MVPs of storytelling through art. Their miniature artworks coupled with poetry? Pure gold. It was their way of passing down the stories of rulers and societies. And guess what? Today, those miniatures? Iran’s rightful cultural heritage — they’re like the VIPs of Western auction houses, fetching sky-high prices.

So, when we’re talking about Orientalist artists, there are the realists who actually went out there, saw stuff, and painted it. And then you’ve got the daydreamers, the ones who conjured up scenes right in their studios without so much as stepping out the door. Think Eugène Delacroix and Jean-Léon Gérôme — big names in the Orientalist game. Like Gérôme’s work, The Snake Charmer – totally made up, a scene that’s tailor-made for Western fantasies about the East. These artworks came with some serious biases. They painted the “Oriental man” as this mysterious, worship-obsessed figure. And women? They were often stuck in this submissive and passive stereotype. Yeah, not the most flattering portrayal.

Orientalist art revival is causing a buzz and some heated debates. But here’s the deal: let’s not get swept away by the romance of it all. Orientalism wasn’t some heartwarming cultural exchange. Nope, it was a result of some not-so-equal cultural clashes. So, as we dive into this revival, let’s keep our eyes on the bigger picture — the shifting global dynamics, the rise of new players — and not just treat it like a simple nostalgic trip down history lane.