Blog @ the Nelson-Atkins

A crocodile’s photograph adorns the walls of the Exploring Egypt: 19th Century Expeditionary Photography exhibition, but its appearance may be deceptive!

When Francis Frith took his 1857 photograph Crocodile on a Sandbank, he in some ways tapped into both fear and fascination with dangerous animals. He described crocodiles by emphasizing their great size, the dread local populations felt toward them, and the presence of at least one “atrocious man-eater.” Clearly this was an animal to be handled with great caution! However, Frith’s bravery in approaching this dangerous subject may be called into question. On the photograph’s gallery label, it is noted that this same crocodile appears many times in Frith’s work—with different background views, and a suspiciously similar pose—suggesting that the crocodile was in fact a stuffed prop. Perhaps Frith was a bit more fearful than he wanted to let on, or maybe he was just an opportunist who thought it would be difficult to catch a crocodile on film in an attractive setting.

Sir John Gardner Wilkinson’s 1847 Hand-book for Travellers in Egypt seems to work toward calming the nerves of European travelers who might not be attracted to travels in Egypt if serious threats awaited them! Wilkinson describes crocodiles as “timid” animals that are “heavy and unwieldy” and that “cannot run very fast.” Crocodiles, he writes, are also “more inclined to run from, than at, any man who has to the courage to face” them (pg 332). Even so, Wilkinson does seem to advocate caution. For example, Wilkinson assures his readers that he never heard of a crocodile devouring a human—unless of course that human was, “incautiously standing at the brink of the river, where its approach is concealed by the water, and where, by the immense power of its tail, it is enabled to throw down and overcome the strongest man; who being carried immediately to the bottom of the river, has neither the time nor the means to resist.” And he “never heard of a person being carried away by a crocodile while in the water” in Egypt, but people should probably be careful near water while visiting Ethiopia (pg 332).

It seems that depictions of the crocodile as dangerous depended, at least in part, on purpose—asserting artistic bravery or luring travelers—and possibly also how close one was to the water.

This exhibition is free and open through July 18.

Exploring Egypt: 19th Century Expeditionary Photography features photographs taken for a variety of purposes—preservation, Romantic attachment, and even architectural documentation. Yet the unique stories behind the objects, monuments and landscapes photographed are perhaps not evident to modern day viewers.

Consider Maxime Du Camp’s Goumah, Colossal Monolith of Amenhotep. The statue photographed is the easternmost one of a pair depicting Pharaoh Amenhotep III. The two statues are positioned at the approach to the Valley of the Kings. The photograph’s label describes it as having been taken in a “straightforward manner” which could suggest that Du Camp had a documentary approach to the subject. Look closely: the presence of a man between the statue’s legs indicates its immense size. The statues themselves are 60 feet tall and 18 feet wide across their shoulders. The massive size must be impressive, but so too is the historical mystique surrounding the eastern statue.

Sir John Gardner Wilkinson's 1847 Hand-book for Travellers in Egypt, a widely read and popular guidebook for nineteenth-century European travelers, described this statue as a wonder of the ancient world. He references ancient accounts that assert a “sound was uttered when the sun touched its lips” (Wilkinson’s Handbook pg 349). Mystery shrouded the statue and its morning “speech.” Elite Greeks and even Roman emperors traveled to Egypt to hear it. Scholars of various generations attempted to identify the source of the sound.

Wilkinson presents accounts describing the sound uttered by the statue as similar to the “breaking of a harp-string” or “a metallic ring” that could be heard “about the first or second hour after sunrise” (pg 350). However, as with most mysterious happenings, the sound’s origins were critiqued and debunked. Wilkinson believed that priests “contrived the sound of the statue” and “were artful enough to allow the supposed deity to fail occasionally,” which motivated visitors to return another morning to hear the statue’s sound (pg 350). He identifies the sound’s source as a stone in the statue’s lap that, when struck, emitted a metallic sound. Visitors could be deceived because a space was cut from a block behind the statue, leaving space for a person to hide and strike the stone. Wilkinson went so far as to test the stone himself, posting peasants below and climbing up the statue to strike the “sonorous block” with a small hammer (pg 350). The peasants heard the ringing sound and compared it to brass.

Nonetheless, a powerful aura remains in the eastern statue as photographed by Du Camp. The immense size, its position in front of mountains, and its mysterious purpose invite viewers to pause and feel a sense of wonder.

This exhibition is free and open through July 18.