More than 1,300 years after the Muslim conquest swept through Egypt, one of the country's highest religious authorities has declared that its ancient sculptures are forbidden by Islam.

In his fatwa — or religious ruling — issued earlier this month, Grand Mufti Ali Gomaa quoted a saying of the prophet Muhammad that sculptors will be among those receiving the harshest punishment on Judgment Day.

Artists and intellectuals here say the edict, whose ban on producing and displaying sculptures overturns a century-old fatwa, runs counter to Islam. They also worry that extremists may use the ruling as a pretence for destroying Egypt's ancient relics, which form a pillar of the country's multibillion-dollar tourist industry...

... Egypt is dotted with millennia worth of Pharaonic antiquities. Mohsen Said, of the country's Supreme Council for Antiquities, says, "We display statues so they can be studied and so people can get to know their heritage. This is Egypt's national heritage. We don't display them for worship..."

Egypt's grand mufti issues fatwa: no sculpture, Christian Science Monitor, Massachusetts, USA, April 18, 2006.

The air grows rarefied whenever people discuss the purpose of an institution like the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The sermonizing phrases — “Nourish the human spirit” ... “Display mankind’s noblest achievements” ... “Enlighten, inspire, and awe the public” — fall naturally from the lips. And well they should. But this high-flown perspective can also develop into an earnest, deathly piety that has nothing to do with the life of art. Which is why I couldn’t help but laugh when I came upon the wall panel that opens “After the Deluge” at the Met, a show organized by the contemporary African-American artist Kara Walker that was inspired by the physical and social mayhem generated by Hurricane Katrina. “The story that has interested me,” Walker writes, “is the story of Muck.”

An institution that’s not afraid of Muck is healthy. The Met remains open to the questing, disorderly culture around it, reflecting contemporary concerns without cheating the past of its stillness or complexity. Its “After the Deluge” — a small exhibition — and its massive “Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh” demonstrate in different ways how a traditional museum can keep an eye on the obsessions of modern society, in this instance race and gender, without becoming tendentious. “Hatshepsut,” a scholarly exhibition in the grand tradition, is about a woman who can still fascinate a contemporary audience. Organized by Catharine Roehrig, it marks the 100th anniversary of the museum’s celebrated Department of Egyptian Art, and is built from the extraordinary collection of objects brought back by the museum’s Egyptian expedition in the twenties and thirties. The show focuses upon Hatshepsut (who reigned from 1479 to 1458 B.C.) but also examines the life and art around her. It contains numerous statues of her in different guises, together with many fine examples of jewellery, furniture, and other household goods...

Race and Gender on Fifth Avenue, New York Metro, New York, USA, April 24, 2006.

In response to a federal lawsuit, the Fort Lauderdale Museum of Art has made its popular King Tut exhibit more accessible to blind, deaf and physically disabled visitors.

However, Joshua Entin, who represents a group of blind and disabled individuals who sued the museum, said the settlement reached last week did not accomplish all of his clients' goals.

"The case is not over," Entin said...

Museum improves access after lawsuit, South Florida Sun-Sentinel, Florida, USA, April 19, 2006.

cf. My previous post: Fort Lauderdale museum sued over disabled access to Tut exhibit.