… to Recklinghausen, Germany. More precisely, to an iconostasis that is on display in the Recklinghausen Icon Museum. Last Thursday, we actually visited the museum for the first time on our own, without taking one, or several, international specialists, and therefore had the time to look at the first big exhibit, said iconostasis, dating from the 18th century, created on a Greek (Ionian) island. (Don’t get me wrong. It is a great museum, and all the specialists we took have introduced us to a number of quaint and curious saints, as well as greatly enlarged our knowledge of icon painting, Eastern theology, Orthodox customs and legends, the history of art and many other things. However, every guided excursion has been crashed at the very beginning by the sheer mass of knowledge that made any tour guide unnecessary.)
Looking at the wood carvings, we found two pairs of Senmurvs, carved into the woodwork for the outer screens for no apparent reason but decoration.
Dogs‘ heads, feathered bodies and wings, two feet and serpents‘ tails – as senmurvy as they get. The tail is easy to overlook at a quick glance, as it is intertwined with the floral background. The „third leg“ that is present in many depictions grows out of, or into, the frame.
How did Greek carvers in the 18th ct. ever get the idea to carve these figures? Did they know about the tradition at all – after all, the Senmurv’s iconography had shifted towards a big bird centuries ago – or did they simply use their imagination? These four specimen are as doglike as they get.
The museum’s website has nothing on these figures. The unfortunate guides on duty on a public holiday didn’t exactly seem eager to be troubled.
Looks like a call to the museum’s director is in order…