Golden Crowns: Votive Offerings in Visigoth Spain

While researching the early medieval reliquaries of the Kingdom of Asturias and Visigothic Spain for my doctoral research, I happened upon the collection of votive crowns from the treasure of Guarrazar. The the academic debate centring on these Visigothic votive crowns concerns issues of power, submission, and piety.[1] In attempting to explain the phenomenon of Visigothic votive crowns, José Gómez places these artefacts within Visigothic liturgy and the long tradition of votive offerings in the form of crowns.  Gómez goes on to argue that these votive crowns do not represent the submission of noble power per se, but are rather religious markers of noble piety.[2] Yet, I wonder if the multivalent image of the crown can offer such a straightforward answer.[3] The use of votive crowns appears to be a widespread tradition stretching from Visigoth Spain to Byzantium, steaming from previous Roman traditional offerings.[4] Yet, are these sumptuous artefacts representing piety, power, or perhaps their donors? By briefly looking at the votive crown of Recceswinth I, I wish to explore the complexities of reading these artefacts. Following this, I wish to propose another perspective to our understanding of these votive offerings, namely that the crowns could be understood as representing their donors themselves rather than their piety or power.

The treasure of Guarranzar was discovered in Spain in 1858 after rainwater removed a slab, which originally sealed the hoard in a tomb. The treasure comprised a large group of crowns and crosses, though unfortunately for current scholars, many of the crowns were melted down or sold after the treasure’s initial discovery. The surviving material consists of ten crowns, nine crosses, sixteen pendants, and various chains and fragments.[5] There is no record of why the treasure was hidden away, though the defeat of Roderick in Guadalete in 711 and the rise of Islam on the Iberian Peninsula do offer powerful incentives.[6] Not wishing to write a history of the Visigoths, which would require its own blog post, I shall jump to Visigothic Hispania in the seventh century. The conversion of Reccared I from Arian Christianity, which for centuries acted as a cultural marker for the Visigoths, to Catholicism acts as a convenient delineation, however artificial.[7] After the Third Council of Toledo in 589, Reccared I both denounced Arianism and adopted the name Flavius, continuing the Visigothic translation of Roman imperial customs into their elite culture.[8] Moving to the reigns of Chindasuinth (642-653) and Recceswinth I (649-672), both kings oversaw the formulation of the Liber Iudiciorum, which abolished the previous tradition of different law codes for the Romans and the Visigoths, thus creating a unified people, the hispani, at least by legal definition. The Liber Iudiciorum united Cannon Law, Roman Law, and some Gothic elements into one code, which would be embellished by later kings.[9] The balance between secular authority and religious power can be seen throughout the law codes, in particular with the ability of the bishop to question the local magistrate on behalf of anyone who felt that their case was handled unjustly.[10] These issues of authority will be touched upon further in an effort to understand the votive crowns of Visigothic kings.

Palo Casket

The votive crown of Recceswinth I is a piece of Visigothic metalwork which incorporates spoila gemstones from as early as the second century.[11] The small crowns is suspended from chains while golden letters hang from the crown, reading ‘[R]RECCESVINTUS REX OFFERET’, emphatically proclaiming the donation of the crown by Recceswinth I. The crowns were either placed upon or hung over the altar, as noted in the Liber Pontificalis and further referenced in the Palo Casket.[12] While crowns are contemporarily understood as symbols of royal power, it is important to avoid anachronisms. The use of crowns by the Visigoths as insignia was not explicit until Liuviglid’s reign in 568-586, when Liuviglid translated Byzantine and Roman imperial traditions into Visigothic court ceremony.[13] Yet despite the presences of diadems as royal insignia, the use of the terms corona and diadema were understood to mean strikingly different things. In regards to both the Lex Vsigothorum and the Councils of Toledo, the use of the term corona denoted ‘heavenly rewards’ while diadema stood for ‘earthly glory’, despite the physical similarities of both items.[14] As such, Visigothic votive crowns cannot be seen as purely submissions of royal authority to the Church, a very tempting interpretation after the conversion of many to Catholicism, as the diadema was understood to be conceptually separate from the corona.[15]

           

Rather than simply representing the submission of the elite to the Church, these votive crowns appear as multivalenced artefacts. Gómez’s interpretation of the crowns describes them as sumptuous offering that denoted heavenly, not earthly, power and glory. However, it cannot be stressed enough that the Visigothic kings actively sought to incorporate Byzantine and Roman rituals of office into their court. These small crowns would have been suspended above altars as votive offerings by Visigothic elite. In the case of the crown of Recceswinth I, the king’s name adorns the crown proclaiming in Latin, presumably above the altar, the donation of the king. One might begin to question the audience of these artefacts. While diadema and corona are clearly delineated in other sources, within the Etymologiae of Isidore of Seville, the use of corona is used both to describe the kingly and earthly crown and that of the heavens and the martyrs.[16] Additionally, when considering the incorporation of Byzantine practices into Visigothic ceremony, it is important to note that the Byzantine emperors aligned themselves with the political power of the Church, in many ways conflating the political power of the emperor with the spiritual power of Christ.[17] I believe it to be impossible to separate the political and spiritual elements of these votive offering, as I believe it is slightly anachronistic to separate the role of spiritual and secular politics as the two were in many cases intertwined. 

Votive Crown of Recceswinth I

As such, how can the votive offering of Recceswinth I represent its donors? First one must acknowledge that the Visigoths were attempting to construct explicit ritual and visual culture through the translation of Roman and Byzantine practices into their own, thus creating a hybrid culture. Second, while not all the crowns display the names of their donors, the crown of Recceswinth I separates itself from the other votive crowns through the use of Latin. Third the audience of these crowns was limited. Few would have access to the altar and they would need to understand enough Latin to read the crown’s bejewelled letters. Indeed, the interpretation of these votive crowns as pious offerings or as symbols of submission of their donors to the Church begins to pale when considering the question of audience. These votive crowns appear to be aligning their donors with the power of the Church, much in the same way as the inauguration of Byzantine emperors sought to transform the image of the emperor into that of the imago Christi.[18]  A similar practice of highlighting a donor's connection to the Church, both politically and spiritually, can be seen with the inclusion of Pope Pascal in the apse mosaic of Santa Prassede. While not figural, the votive crown of Recceswinth I could be seen as an attempt by the Visigothic king to align himself with the powers of the Church. I hesitate using the word appropriate, for I see this symbolic gesture as a dance of sorts, with Recceswinth I carefully constructing a visual language of piety and power. While not being bodily present in the church, the king’s name is placed near the altar utilising a symbolic language which intertwined the heavenly and the earthy. While this theory remains rather speculative, I think it important to remember every artefact, object, or piece of art served a specific and often times performative function. 

-Samuel

---

[1] López, Gisela. 1999. ‘Symbolic Life and Signs of Identity in Visigothic Times’, The Visigoths From the Migration Period to the Seventh Century: An Ethnographic Perspective (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge): 424-6

[2] Gómez, José. 2004. ‘Las Coronas de Donacíon Regia del Tesoro de Guarrazar: La Religiosidad en la Monarqúia Visigoda el uso de Modelos Bizantinos’, Sacralidad Arqueología, 21: 466

[3] Valdez Del Almo, Elizabeth. 1990. ‘Triumphal Visions and Monastic Devotion: The Annunciation Relief of Santo Domingo de Silos’, Gesta, 29: 171

[4] Arce, Javier. 2001. ‘El Conjunto Votivo de Gurrazar: Función y Significado’, El Tesoro Visigodo de Guarrazar (Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Madrid): 354

[5] Guerra, M. F. and Calligaro, T. 2007. ‘The Treasure of Guarrazar: Tracing the Gold Supplies in the Visigothic Iberian Peninsula’, Archaeometry, 49: 54

[6] López, Gisela. 1999. 424-6.

[7] Díaz, Pablo. 1999. ‘Visigothic Political Institutions’, The Visigoths From the Migration Period to the Seventh Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, (The Boydell Press, Woodbridge): 337

[8] Díaz, Pablo and Valverde, Ma.R. 2000. ‘The Theoretical Strength and Practical Weakness of the Visigothic Monarchy of Toledo’: Rituals of Power: From Late Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages, (Brill, Leiden): 64

[9] Collins, Roger. 2004. Visigothic Spain: 409-711 (Blackwell Publishing, Oxford):  226

[10] Ferguson, Craig. 2012. A Comparative Approach to Ethnic Identity and urban Settlement: Visigothic Spain, Lombard Italy and Merovingian Francia, c. 565-774 AD [unpublished PhD May 15^th 2012]: 106-7

[11] Guerra, M. F. and Calligaro, T. 2007.

[12] Gómez, José. 2004. 468-9.

[13] Díaz, Pablo and Valverde, Ma.R. 2000. 76.

[14] Díaz, Pablo and Valverde, Ma.R. 2000. 65-66.

[15] Gómez, José. 2004. 471-2.

[16] Barney, Stephen A., et al. 2006. The Etymologies of Isidore of Seville, (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge): 390

[17] Cameron, Averil. 1979. ‘Images of Authority: Elites and Icons in Late Sixth-Century Byzantium’, Past and Present, 84: 12

[18] Ibid.

The Medieval 21st Century

    As an artist I often look back upon my practice and training. I think about what being a professional artist entails and how do these roles correlate with my traditional academic training in the history of art. One aspect of contemporary practice that specifically comes to mind in this instance is the concept of creating a ‘brand.’ Artists are always thinking about their place in the art world. This is especially true when comparing ourselves to other artists, both past and present. Thoughts or queries that often ruminate in our minds are: how am I different from everyone else, am I just appropriating and redistributing other artist’s concepts in a new medium, and finally, what can I do to make myself recognisable?  In other words, artists strive to make their names synonymous to a certain style, which is reflected in their work. They yearn to be remembered and emulated in the art world amongst what philosophers such as Pierre Bourdieu would consider the social or cultural elite.

     The interesting point of this self-reflection for the sake of recognition is the fact that we as artists  don’t consider how our goals would manifest on a larger scale outside of ourselves. What if our mental ruminations actually came to fruition, but were magnified to immense proportions? What socio-cultural mark would it leave and how long would it last? An example of a long lasting recognisability made via the creation of a specific artistic brand is the Islamic visual programme.

Figure 1 Manuscript

Figure 2 Ceramic Tile

                                   

     The decorative arts within the Islamic cultural realm have transitive qualities that are able to pass from one motif to another regardless of the continuums of time and space. These qualities are immutable facets of visual representation that have defined the essence of Islamic art and the socio-political or religious meanings they embody. The potential timeless nature of Islamic decoration is a distinctive aspect in which, generally speaking, the models of non-figurative artistic representation remain within a similar realm. This realm allowed Islamic art to be recognised based upon its ornamental programme.[i] This statement does not relegate Islamic art as a static cultural art form, but rather, it suggests that the patterns of decoration within Islamic art are interconnected, and this confluence allows for a visual representation of Islam irrespective of the current dominant regime. It is this thread of recognition that also allows for the ornamental programme to hold a certain level of multivalent characteristics that remain within the socio-cultural ideologies of the different people of Islam.

Figure 3 Ceramic with Phoenix

Figure 4 Textile with Phoenix

         

     The visual programme of the Islamic culture can be traced back to the beginning of Islam and more specifically to the Umayyad caliphate. Oleg Grabar, in describing the architectural realm in the beginning of Islam, noted that the formation of an Islamic architectural language took place within a world that already had a tremendous amount of architectural wealth, which also had a considerable amount of fluidity concerning the meanings attributed to its forms and techniques.[ii] A ‘….component in the making of Islamic architecture is Islam itself. The remarkable point here is that in its formative moments Islam neither required nor desired an architectural identification.’[iii] However, as Islam grew as a culture and religion, so did its need to properly represent itself within the cultural world stage it inhabited. Thus according to Oleg Grabar,

[t]he reasons for the rapidity and success with which a definable Islamic architectural tradition was formed are to be sought primarily in the necessity—so amazingly seen by rulers like ‘Umar, ‘Abd al-Malik, al-Walīd, and by their provincial governors—to make visible the physical reality of Islam as something different from what surrounded it and yet understandable as Islamic….which is how a culturally definable architecture creates itself…it illustrates what the culture chose and what it rejected and thus suggests something of its own image which the culture sought to project.[iv]

It may be interpreted that the establishment of Islam’s image as a regime, by way of its visual and material culture, progressed along the same lines as Islam’s socio-political and cultural formation. It may also be inferred that the artistic realm of object production and manuscript illumination was in a similar circumstance of establishment as the architectural world during the formation of Islam’s adaptation of an aesthetic form of identification. This process may be seen in the development and eventual actualisation of the Ilkhanid dynasty as a powerful Islamic regime.

       The Ilkhanids were descendents of the Khan dynasty of Mongol China, ‘[t]he Mongol invasions of the Islamic world began in 1221 with the conquest of eastern Iran. A more devastating wave of conquest, however, came with Genghis Khan's grandson Hülegü, when Mongol forces subjugated all of Iran and by 1258 had also taken Baghdad, thus bringing to an end the ^cAbbasid caliphate (750–1258).’[v]  The official establishment of the Il-khans in Persia was 1258 CE, and from the previous period of Iran, they inherited a repertory of different building types, materials, techniques and forms of construction that were already developed.[vi] ‘During the Ilkhanid period, the decorative arts—textiles, pottery, metalwork, jewelry, and manuscript illumination and illustration—continued along and further developed established lines,’ and with this inheritance of different artistic and architectural techniques the Ilkhanids, who primarily lived in tents, were able to establish their own aesthetic, which was translated from text to architecture and objects.[vii]

Figure 5 Ceiling of Uljaytu Tomb

Figure 6  Decorated Page from Qur'an

     An example of this translation can be seen in the tomb of Uljaytu where ‘[m]any of the strapwork panels closely resemble contemporary manuscript illumination, suggesting that Ilkhanid designers provided patterns used on different scales in architecture and manuscripts.’[viii]  Nandini Bagchee suggests that the interior walls of the mausoleum of Uljaytu were presented in a page like manner where each plane was isolated by a series of frames, which was reminiscent of the complex network of interlaced pattern that could be found on the page of a Qur’an.[ix] The close analogies between the depictions of architecture with the interlaced ornament of the Qur’an and the paintings of contemporary manuscripts, such as the ‘Great Mongol Shahnama’, with the actual fragmentary remains of architectural complexes, suggest that the manuscripts accurately depict the architectural style of the Ilkhanid buildings.[x] In some cases, an example of this analogy may be seen in the friezes of Takht-i Sulayman, which included tiles with inscriptions taken from the Shahnama as well as more generic hunting scenes.[xi]

Figure 7 Hunting Scene on Ceramic Tile

Figure 8 Hunting Scene in Manuscript

     The dissemination and use of the same patterns amongst different artistic modes of production enabled a visually cohesive representation of the Ilkhanids, which could be recognised by the Islamic population within the current Ilkhanid dynasty as well as future regimes. Moreover, according to Mohammad Khazaie, the ‘….decorative motifs were transferred from the arts of the book particularly Qur'an manuscripts, to other arts. The materials, techniques and functions might differ, but the designs remained the same. This direct connection between the artists of the book and those practicing other decorative arts…has continued until the present day.’[xii] This visual continuum was not solely due to the ideology of l’art pour l’art; instead it was partially indebted to the tastes and ideals involved with patronage.[xiii] Sheila Blair cites Jean Aubin’s insightful research by stating, ‘…much of what is commonly called Ilkhanid architecture or painting was underwritten not by Mongols or their noyan but by native Iranian counsellors who guided the Mongols’ pretensions and inspired their tastes.’[xiv] An example of such a patron was Rashid al-Din, who was the politically powerful and wealthy vizier of the Ilkhanid ruler Uljaytu.

      The records of al-Din’s life and accomplishments mirror the stage upon which he and other courtly figures of the Ilkhanid dynasty were not only establishing themselves, but also the reputation of their dynasty based upon the scale of the patronage during the time.[xv] Sheila Blair notes that ‘[t]he model of patronage established by the highest members of the Ilkhanid court in north-western Iran was copied by other notables elsewhere in Iran in this and the following generation.’[xvi] A wealth of patrons, a visual programme and similar artistic models, upon which the decoration of objects, manuscripts and architecture were derived, allowed for a dispersal of a visually amalgamated artistic repertoire that represented the Ilkhanids and their tastes. Furthermore, ‘[a]fter the death of the last Ilkhanid ruler of the united dynasty in 1335, the empire disintegrated and a number of local dynasties came to power in Iraq and Iran, each emulating the style set by the Ilkhanids,’ which supports the aforementioned suggestion that the Islamic artistic style was built upon, and continuously evolved from, artistic genres of the past.[xvii] An example of a successive dynasty, which drew from the ideology of intertwining a visual programme on different art forms, as a reflection of the potency of their regime, was the Timurid dynasty. It was ‘through the creation of a variety of objects—books, decorative works, metalware, woodwork—[that] Timur’s image was further developed and amplified.’[xviii] With the formation of a visually cohesive empire, through the projects of the kitabkhana, Timur was able to dominate the aesthetic vocabulary of his regime, thus creating an association of beauty and strength to the Timurid dynasty, which was partially indebted to the artistic innovations of the Ilkhanids.[xix]

Figure 9 Illustration of Vegetal Motif

Figure 10 Engraved Stone-Vegetal Motif

   The symbolism of Islamic decoration is multivalent. Even though there is not a concrete definition, or manner in which to see the use of ornament, it possesses a cultural meaning that can be identified as Islamic for a certain period of time due to its flexible nature. The length of time to which definitions may be ascribed is not definite, which leaves it open to suggestions of scholars, like me, who may deem the symbolism to be either finite or infinite depending on the context in which the decoration is applied. For this post, one certainty may be claimed amongst this abyss of ambiguity.  The use of specific decorative themes throughout the artistic programmes of objects, manuscripts and architecture had socio-political implications, which identified and amalgamated the positions of Islamic regimes.

     So what does the creation of a recognisable visual repertoire suggest to contemporary artists and art historians? To me, it is a reminder of the cyclicality of time and how we inevitably will always look to our past in order to justify our own place in the present. We yearn to create a new pathway to timeless recognition, much like the Islamic regimes of the Middle Ages, but only on a smaller scale. Does this make the 21^st century reflective of the medieval? Maybe. We are digitalising medieval manuscripts as a means to preserve and share the recorded knowledge during Middle Ages. This technological endeavour not only bridges the past with the present, but also may create more of a need for artists and intellects alike to find a manner in which to outwardly define ourselves, so that the 21^st century won’t be forgotten in the dark abyss of time in the far future.

~Shandra

---

[i] The ornamental programme of Islamic art did, and continues to, change stylistically, but the basis of geometric and vegetal ornamentation has generally remained recognisable.

[ii] Oleg Grabar, "Architecture," in The Legacy of Islam, by Joseph Schacht, Clifford Edmund Bosworth, and Thomas Walker Arnold (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1974), 247.

[iii] Ibid, 247-248

[iv] Ibid, 250-251

[v] Suzan Yalman and Linda Kamaroff, "The Art of the Ilkhanid Period (1256–1353)," Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–., October 2001, accessed March 28, 2012, http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/ilkh/hd_ilkh.htm.

[vi] Sheila Blair, Jonathan Bloom, and Richard Ettinghausen, "Architecture in Iran and Central Asia under the Ilkhanids and Their Successors," in The Art and Architecture of Islam 1250-1800 (New Haven [Conn.: Yale University Press, 1994), 5.

[vii]Suzan Yalman and Linda Kamaroff, "The Art of the Ilkhanid Period (1256–1353)," Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–., October 2001, accessed March 28, 2012, http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/ilkh/hd_ilkh.htm.

[viii] Sheila Blair, Jonathan Bloom, and Richard Ettinghausen, "Architecture in Iran and Central Asia under the Ilkhanids and Their Successors," in The Art and Architecture of Islam 1250-1800 (New Haven [Conn.: Yale University Press, 1994), 8.

[ix] Nandini Bagchee, "Book Illumination and Architectural Decoration: The Mausoleum of Uljaytu in Sultaniyya" (thesis, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 2000), 47, accessed April 2, 2012, http://dspace.mit.edu.

[x] Sheila Blair, "Patterns of Patronage and Production in Ilkhanid Iran: The Case of Rashid Al-Din," in The Court of the Il-Khans: 1290-1340 : [the Barakat Trust Conference on Islamic Art and History, St. John College, Oxford, Saturday, 28 May 1994], by Julian Raby and Teresa Fitzherbert (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 46.

[xi] Stefano Carboni and Qamar Adamjee, "Takht-i Sulayman and Tile Work in the Ilkhanid Period," Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–, October 2003, accessed March 28, 2012, http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/khan7/hd_khan7.htm.

[xii] Mohammad Khazaie, "The Qur'an Manuscripts from Early Islamic Iran (10th to MID-13th AD)," The International Journal of Humanities 9, no. 2 (Spring 2002): 45.

[xiii] l’art pour l’art is a term that was originally coined by nineteenth century French philosopher Victor Cousin. It is based upon an ideology that art is made irrespective of politics or social justification.

[xiv] Sheila Blair, "Patterns of Patronage and Production in Ilkhanid Iran: The Case of Rashid Al-Din," in The Court of the Il-Khans: 1290-1340 : [the Barakat Trust Conference on Islamic Art and History, St. John College, Oxford, Saturday, 28 May 1994], by Julian Raby and Teresa Fitzherbert (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 39.

[xv] Further information about the endowment of Rashid al-Din’s atelier endowment can be found in: D. Fairchild. Ruggles, Islamic Art and Visual Culture: An Anthology of Sources (Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2011), 35-38.

[xvi] Sheila Blair, "Patterns of Patronage and Production in Ilkhanid Iran: The Case of Rashid Al-Din," in The Court of the Il-Khans: 1290-1340 : [the Barakat Trust Conference on Islamic Art and History, St. John College, Oxford, Saturday, 28 May 1994], by Julian Raby and Teresa Fitzherbert (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 54

[xvii] Suzan Yalman and Linda Kamaroff, "The Art of the Ilkhanid Period (1256–1353)," Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–., October 2001, accessed March 28, 2012, http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/ilkh/hd_ilkh.htm.

[xviii] Thomas W. Lentz, "The Kitabkhana and the Dissemination of the Timurid Vision," in Timur and the Princely Vision: Persian Art and Culture in the Fifteenth Century : [exhibition... Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, April 16 - July 6, 1989 ...] (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Pr., 1989), 43.

[xix] Thomas W. Lentz, "The Kitabkhana and the Dissemination of the Timurid Vision," in Timur and the Princely Vision: Persian Art and Culture in the Fifteenth Century : [exhibition... Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, April 16 - July 6, 1989 ...] (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Pr., 1989), 159-237; Linda Komaroff and Stefano Carboni, The Legacy of Genghis Khan: Courtly Art and Culture in Western Asia, 1256-1353 (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2002), 225. 

Figures:

[1] http://7junipers.com/log/category/eras/medieval

[2] "Frieze tile with phoenix [Iran] (12.49.4)". In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/12.49.4 (October 2006).
[3] Linda Komaroff and Stefano Carboni, The Legacy of Genghis Khan: Courtly Art and Culture in Western Asia, 1256-1353 (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2002).

[4] Ibid.

[5] Sheila Blair and Jonathan Bloom, "Oljeitu Tomb," digital image, MIT Libraries, Aga Khan Visual Archive, 1984, accessed April 17, 2012, http://archnet.org.
[6] Colin F. Baker, Qur'an Manuscripts: Calligraphy, Illumination, Design (London: British Library, 2007).

[7]"Frieze tile with two hunters [Iran (probably Takht-i Sulayman)] (10.9.1)". In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/10.9.1 (October 2006)

[8] http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/140005537

[9] Thomas W. Lentz, "The Kitabkhana and the Dissemination of the Timurid Vision," in Timur and the Princely Vision: Persian Art and Culture in the Fifteenth Century : [exhibition... Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC, April 16 - July 6, 1989 ...] (Washington, DC: Smithsonian Institution Pr., 1989).

[10] Ibid.

<a href="http://www.hypersmash.com">www.Hypersmash.com</a>