Cabinet of Curiosities

In the 17th century my ancestors arrived from the Austro-Hungarian empire and settled in the Aegean city of Izmir. Collecting artefacts became a family hobby. They went on excursions all over Anatolia, documenting relics, painting landscapes and gathering antiquities. This collection passed from generation to generation and recently made its way to me. Sadly, it is a fraction of what it was. Most items disappeared over the years, given out as gifts, sold or stolen. The biggest share was “got rid of” during the military junta regime of 1980. The then government deemed it illegal to be in possession of antiquities and this was often used as an opportunity to denounce minorities. After his friend was imprisoned for six months, my grandfather, like many Levantines, destroyed the items that he couldn’t hide away and scattered the pieces in the Gulf of Izmir.

It wasn’t until 1990, when collectorship came under the control of museums, that a wooden box stored in the back corner of a tobacco warehouse was brought back to light. It was bestowed on my mother, an art historian, as a wedding gift and it was in her care until 2022. The 42 items now in my cabinet of curiosities aren’t much but they are my heritage.

The expert assigned by the Istanbul Archaeology Museums to record my entry deemed the small terracotta rectangle from the Hittite Empire as the most valuable item. It is a sealed envelope. Inside, it still carries a letter that makes a light clicking sound when rattled. Two lines of cuneiform circle the outer shell, suggesting that the content of the letter is a business agreement of sorts. Then there are a dozen earthy red oil lamps with embossed designs that are a mix of Roman and Hellenistic. My favourite item is an elegant blue-green glass Roman bottle with a long tubular neck. It was probably used to store oils for perfume making. Another rare piece is a cobalt-blue Roman glass bracelet believed to be from Ephesus, decorated with six circles featuring octopus-like images within.

The world we live in today seems unimaginable without museums yet they are a fairly modern concept. Collecting, on the other hand, is not. In her book Possession, Erin Thompson traces early collectors as far back as the Kingdom of Pergamon, a Greek state during the Hellenistic period, in the region of Izmir. Nowadays, the idea of ownership is evolving and curators, collectors and governments are responding to new cultural norms. They have inherited a complex legacy. But one way or another, the art of collecting has called out to all of us. It is a child’s favourite pastime. My first collection was of garden snails that I kept outside in an open box. As I grew older my passion for things transitioned to more concrete items. Today, collecting for me is a form of guardianship, an act of care. It is a humbling recognition of those who came before us and a remembrance of family.