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When I innocently started researching who or what a "Tanagra" was, I expected - as so often happens - to end up in some obscure corner of history and an even more obscure part of the internet. Nothing could be further from the truth; it turned out to be a craze comparable to Flippos and Tamagotchis...
But let's start at the beginning, about 150 years ago, at the end of the 19th century.
Shortly after 1870, terracotta figurines dating from antiquity suddenly appear out of nowhere on the European art market. They are new, they are beautiful, they turn out to come from Tanagra (Greece), and they cause a true sensation.
They are soon called "Tanagras", and every self-respecting museum starts a collection, while wealthy art collectors proudly display them in their homes. And as often happens when art becomes commerce, forgeries quickly appear. Not only clever merchants, but also 'clever' contemporary artists are inspired by them, resulting in more and more derivative works, and the craze only grows larger.
I must honestly admit that until recently, I had never heard of Tanagras (and let's be honest, I'm not the only one...). And now, more than a hundred years later, the memory of these once so popular Tanagras seems to have almost completely faded.
And that's precisely what makes me curious. Et voilà, the account of my quest and what I discovered.
Tanagra, or "Τάναγρα" as the ancient Greeks wrote it, is a place now about an hour's drive north of Athens (map). The city already existed in ancient Greece, and from the 4th century BCE, it became known for its large-scale production of terracotta figurines.
These mold-cast figurines, mainly depicting women and girls, were used in homes, temples, and as grave gifts.
The figurines were covered with a white slip, on which realistic colors were applied with water-based paint after firing. The figurines were often only 10-25 cm tall and were distributed throughout ancient Greece and far beyond.
Although it is now known that they were also made in other cities, the name Tanagra is still used for all comparable figurines, even if they were made elsewhere. This is mainly thanks to a (re)discovery at the end of the 19th century.
In the early 1870s, the Necropolis - the cemetery - of Tanagra is discovered. At that time, archaeology is still mostly a hobby for adventurers and profit-driven traders. They see fame and dollar signs before their eyes, and in 1871, about ten thousand tombs are looted. The terracotta figurines, which were first found there, find a ready market in Western Europe and from then on bear the name of their find site: Tanagras. Antiquity is in fashion at the time, and every self-respecting museum, followed by many wealthy individuals, is eager to acquire these figurines.
The Greek government and population react with indignation to the looting and smuggling of heritage abroad. Between 1873 and 1875, the excavations are under government supervision led by Panagiotis Stamatakis.
As a result of exhibitions at the British Museum (London), the Hermitage (St. Petersburg), the Metropolitan (New York), but especially the Louvre in Paris, the figurines gain in popularity.
The most famous Tanagra is probably the "Lady in Blue" purchased by the Louvre in 1876 (see adjacent image). On this figurine, the original watercolor paints are still clearly visible.
The figurines can still be found in the collections of various French museums up to the Kröller Müller Museum in the Netherlands.
A few years after the first purchases, the figurines also appear at the 1878 World's Fair in Paris with over 16 million visitors, introducing the general public to them.
A demand for the figurines arises, naturally in limited supply. In addition to forgeries, contemporary artists are also inspired and/or smell money (in this or reverse order...). A real stream of works based on Tanagras emerges.
A small selection from the enormous amount of artworks that have appeared since the end of the 19th century.
One of the earliest (dated...) derivative works I could find is by Jean-Léon Gérôme. In 1890, this French sculptor/painter created a life-size Tanagra in marble (also holding a Tanagra figurine in her hand), which became very famous.
The statue was presented at the 1890 Salon, after which he produced various bronze editions of it. The small figurine in the hand of the Tanagra (itself inspired by a Tanagra) was also released separately under the title "Danseuse au cerceau" (the "Hoop Dancer").
He also made two paintings of imaginary studios where Tanagras are being painted (and where, among others, his own Tanagra can be seen).
Additionally, he made - twice even - a self-portrait in which he is working on his own marble Tanagra.
I think we can safely say that Gérôme had a slight obsession!
This same Gérôme also painted Pygmalion (and Galatea), which I already wrote about in this blog.
For those who understand French, here is an interesting video about Gérôme and his Tanagra sculpture:
More than 20 years later, the influence was still there. In 1923 - we're now in the 'roaring twenties' - the red dress shown here on the right appears, made of velveteen by designer Bernard, in the typical style of the time.
(source: Art, goût, beauté: feuillets de l'élégance féminine, January 1, 1923; see Gallica)
For example, the design in the adjacent photo is a dress called "tanagra" from 1902.
(source: Les Modes: revue mensuelle illustrée des arts décoratifs appliqués à la femme, April 1, 1902 - see Gallica).
The fact that this was not just a passing fad is evidenced by none other than Pablo Picasso still drawing inspiration from Tanagras more than half a century later, as shown in the image above. He created his own "Lady in Blue" (see image below, from this website)
And it doesn't stop with Picasso: in 2022, his modern sculptures inspired the model collection of Maison Alaïa. More than a century after the examples described above, Tanagras continue to inspire fashion.
The fact that the craze wasn't limited to the 'serious' art world is evidenced by the appearance of children's stories about Tanagras. In 1898, the French youth weekly "Mon journal" published a story about a dollmaker named Hermogène, titled "La poupée de Tanagra".
For me personally, it was this figurine by the French sculptor Emmanuel Villanis (1858-1912) that led to my discovery of Tanagra. I came across it at an auction in 2024; I had never heard of Tanagra before, but I was far from the only interested party.
It's not known exactly when he made it - probably between 1890-1900. It's one of the most successful and popular works in his oeuvre. Compared to his other work in the pronounced Art Nouveau style, it's less flamboyant and more restrained, almost serene.
And notably: Villanis was clearly not inspired by the pleated dresses - which are completely absent - but rather by the tranquil beauty and mysterious gaze of the figurines.
It's remarkable how our culture recycles. More than two thousand years later, we still recognize the beauty of the Tanagras. We not only collect and admire them, but we create new sculptures, new paintings, clothing, and stories.
Personally, two things have stayed with me from this quest:
For those who can't get enough of Tanagras, a quick internet search reveals a wealth of information:
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