Cádiz Provincial Museum I

After my conversation with my three pickled friends, I wended my way through the sinuous streets of Cádiz to visit its Provincial Museum. I hadn't been there for many years, so I felt it was time to re-acquaint myself with its treasures.

Partial view of Plaza Mina, courtesy
of enclasedepatrimonio.blogspot.com

Occupying a large palace that covers one whole side of the square, the Museum is in Plaza Mina, a beautiful shady square. 

As we all know, the term "provincial" in English can be rather dismissive and indeed, this is a small museum, but what it lacks in volume it more than makes up in quality. For those who like religious paintings, it has canvases by Zurbarán and Murillo at shovel point, at the Spanish say. In my opinion, one dead Christ, martyred saint or beatific Virgin Mary looks a lot like the one hanging next to it and the one hanging next to that &c.. Needless to say, I sailed past this particular surfeit of sanctity at a goodly, and not exactly godly, pace. Any faster and I think I would have triggered the alarms. I could almost smell the incense.

A rather bad photo of an excelent
painting

One painting on a religious theme did, however, attract my attention.  The original is only about 18 inches by 10, but the detail is amazing. Every stitch on the embroidered coat is brilliantly picked out and the stained glass window is a tribute to true artistry. It is a 19th-century work by Jose Gallegos, about whom I could find out nothing. The painting doesn't even have a title, but it is stunning. 

I had come however to see the archaeological section, so with the aid of the excellently-translated museum guide, I started my circuit. 

After a cursory glance at the Prehistoric items, I arrived at this small (5-inch) 5th-century BC bronze. Much restored, it still possesses all of the majesty it had the day it was released from its cast. Hercules and Cádiz have a very special relationship. The mythical Pillars of Hercules, to be found and the ends of the Earth (i.e. where the Mediterranean flows into the Atlantic) were in fact Gibraltar which geographically - but unfortunately not politically - is in the province of Cádiz, and the Atlas Mountains in Morocco.

Trajan

Reserving the best till last, I sped past the next gallery to contemplate the Roman statuary where I saw life-size busts and figures as well as a monumental statue of the emperor Trajan.

Since the time of Augustus, Roman Emperors had their likenesses erected and stamped on coins throughout the Empire in what was probably the first conscious policy of creating a corporate image - remember that next time you eat a Big Mac or drink a Coca Cola!

Trajan was no exception. A small digression on Trajan: he was born in Italica, a Roman city outside Seville. In fact the Seville quarter of Triana was thus named because it straddled the Via Traiana, or Trajan's road (to Italica). He was succeded by his nephew Hadrian - also born in Italica - of Hadrian's Wall fame. Gibbon recalls in his "Decline and Fall..." how the first time that Hadrian addressed the Roman Senate, the Senators fell about laughing at his incomprehensible accent. Almost two thousand years later, the Sevillian accent is still a source of wonder and confusion to all who have the great fortune not to be born there.  

End of digression. Have you ever wondered why so many Classical statues lack arms or heads (look at the statue in the background, too)? The answer is quite simple. These appendages were made of bronze and as such were removed to be molten down and re-used. Indeed, as late as Gibbons' visit to Rome, people there were still enthusiastically putting the marble statues themselves into lime kilns to obtain quicklime for whitewashing. O tempore! O mores!

Here we will finish for the day, as the exhibits I want to discuss next deserve their own post.