Arts Agenda - Death becomes him
Carlos Museum attempts to prove mummy’s royal pedigree
Poor Ramesses I. The short-reigning pharaoh probably guessed death would be no cake walk, but he certainly never suspected just how much hell he’d go through in his afterlife.
After ruling Egypt for just two years (1293-1291 B.C.), Ramesses I died before leaving any real mark of his reign and was shuffled off to an incomplete tomb that was later robbed. His mummified corpse was eventually relocated to a decidedly less glamorous cache tomb. Centuries later, his body would end up an attraction in a Canadian tourist trap.
But now, Ramesses I may at last be going home. Scientists at the Michael C. Carlos Museum at Emory University believe the fully unwrapped male mummy the museum acquired in 1999 is that of Ramesses I. Their efforts to prove his identity are the focus of the new exhibition, Ramesses I: The Search for the Lost Pharaoh, on display through September. After that, the mummy goes back to Egypt.
The Carlos Museum has become virtually synonymous with Egyptian art, especially since its dramatic acquisition of artifacts from Canada’s Niagara Falls Museum in 1999, which included 10 coffins and mummies. Anyone who’s experienced the jaw-dropping grandeur of Egyptian funerary art in the ground floor gallery shouldn’t expect more of the same upstairs.
By comparison, Ramesses I can seem somewhat, well, lifeless. The tone of the exhibit is far more sedate, framing the story of the pharaoh’s life in hushed earth tones and offering only a handful of relics to place his reign in context. It’s a mostly wise choice on the part of curator Peter Lacovara, because the glitz of the permanent collection would easily overshadow the scholarly focus of this particular inquiry. And in this case, the mummy honestly speaks for himself.
Displayed under glass in a rear chamber, the astoundingly well-preserved body strikes a severe pose, a jarring portrait of naked mortality. His mid-section covered in a modest loincloth, his mouth gaping, the corpse retains a grave dignity. It’s a hush-inducing view of ancient Egyptians you won’t find in any bad Brendan Frasier flick.
The exhibit inters the mummy in a room with large wall scenes evoking Ramesses I’s original tomb from the Valley of the Kings. Outside, the gallery features 24 other minor pieces of Egyptian art, as well as copious photos and an interactive video display on the investigation into the mummy’s identity.
The evidence that this is actually Ramesses I’s body might seem tenuous at first, but the Carlos Museum does a convincing job of sealing its case. Most obviously, the mummy’s crossed arms indicate royal status. And his still pertinent profile resembles that of both Seti I and Ramesses II, his son and grandson.
In 1999, scientists began the arduous task of attempting to prove the mummy’s identity, working with Emory Hospital’s radiology department to conduct CT-scanning of the cadaver. (DNA testing, it turns out, doesn’t work so well for centuries-old stiffs.) Scans revealed mummification techniques that only royalty could afford.
“You get what you pay for with mummification,” says Betsy Teasley Trope, assistant curator for the permanent collection. “He’s incredibly well preserved.”
Plus, there’s the circumstantial evidence. Rampant tomb robberies led Egyptian priests to move the royal mummies into a secret cache tomb around 1000 B.C., which is where this cadaver was most likely discovered in the 1860s. It was around then that a broker for the Niagara Falls Museum purchased the mummy in Luxor, Egypt.
Though the Carlos Museum saw plenty of press over the Niagara collection in 1999, leading to a sweeping renovation of its Egyptian art galleries, this particular mummy never was placed on view. His exposure to the American audience will be brief, however.
Egyptian authorities were convinced by the museum’s probe into the mummy’s identity, and in November the specimen will be returned to Egypt. It’s a wise choice on the part of Emory, as the issue of reparations of cultural property continues to heat up.
And of course, it’s good news for Ramesses I. It’s taken him more than 3,000 years, but the pharaoh may, at last, rest in peace.