Fayum Mummy Portrait 

Curator: Oh, he’s looking right at me. The eyes have such clarity! Editor: Exactly! We are looking at what's known as a Fayum mummy portrait currently residing here at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They're these incredibly vivid paintings on wood panels that were attached to mummies in Roman Egypt. Think of it—someone painted this portrait almost two thousand years ago, and now we're gazing at it. Curator: I can’t help but notice how remarkably lifelike this painting is for being so ancient. The painter clearly had mastery of realism; from the details of the golden wreath to the expression in his eyes, there is such a focus on precision and lifelikeness. Editor: Those wreaths, very much a marker of status and also virtue. But beyond the Roman ideals, one finds a strong continuation of symbolic language found in Pharaonic traditions. While alive, a golden wreath probably would not have been worn, but, as we can see from earlier burial practices in Egypt, a gilded face or mask was often used as an assertion of immortality or divine status of the deceased. Curator: Yes, it’s like the painter wanted to hold onto the individuality of this person, to remember them not just as someone who lived and died but as a unique being. It's strangely comforting, isn't it? The idea that even back then, people longed to leave their mark. Editor: It says so much about cultural identity at the crossroads of empires, of tradition, innovation and syncretism. But I agree with your intuitive read – that in some ways these works feel so very familiar and personal. Curator: Looking at the realism here, it gives me hope about artistic pursuits today. Techniques may change, materials will evolve, but the innate impulse to translate what we see and feel onto something tangible? Eternal. Editor: Well put. It’s strange how gazing into the eyes of someone long gone can offer a strange and comforting perspective. We come from a long line of those hoping to defeat time.