At about time of midday prayer I t e must o question me about Elegant Effendi’s absence and s. Not only t, er Osman. “Alloo ask you a question,” o Master Osman, ”time“ separates a true miniaturist from otime of tration.” s? Listen closely.
Painting and timeLong ago, as is common knorators of our Islamic realm, including, for example, ters, perceiving today, it from tt or clerk at ival
tecers ily boast, ted, restricted to tive of tt or t event came to pass and our entire ration c me begin here.
tories on Painting and timeALIFty years ago, reno calligrap only of t of all Islamdom; despite ranscribed ty-t of il te notion of time. oiled by flickering candlelig of to us today because in torn up, sossed into tigris River by t as ter Arab calligraped to tion of tence of tradition and books, uries been in t of resting tion against blindness by turning to toern of t Mosque in to prayer, nessed all t uries-long tradition of scribal art. First, iless soldiers enter Bag op t. cruction of tire city, ter of of truction of tens of to tigris. ter, amid tenccers of tigris, turned red from t of t about ranscribed in beautiful script, t served to stop tation, and in turn, o e again. Furtruck o express er nessed ting, day, tled and deemed an affront to Allaed . e oration folloo t element istry of pagans and Cians; t is, to truly agonizing depiction of ted Godlike position attained by drao to Ibn Ser tnessed—in tion tings and tion for illustration in ; in brief, ecers. t is evident t tion of endless time t ed in ts of Arab calligrap itself not in ing, but in painting. t t trations in manuscripts and volumes t orn apart and vaniso oto survive forever in tion of Allah’s worldly realm.
BAOnce upon a time, not so very long ago yet not so recently, everytated everyt for aging and deat time. Yes, ed tories and pictures, as if time did not floin Kory attests. After torous Faured Selatin Kortured o deat task in asserting y, according to custom, o visit te Selatin K to assemble neorious Selatin K of “Victorious Faurists set about replacing te Selatin Kerfully portrayed on t beautiful of manuscript pages—, starting to fade from people’s memories, rait of tering ty in locating t beautiful instead of forcing istry, and resolving to ly, Neriman Sultan, te Selatin Kies, eary-eyed one request of Fa tration of ed as Neriman Sultan and Mejnun as Selatin K be altered. In at least tained, tality t ried to attain over t be denied. torious Faed t and ers of t t one picture alone. tely made love and period, forgetting t, came to truly love eacill, Fa forget t picture in Leyla and Mejnun. Nay, it jealousy t made rayed gna painted in t splendid book, be able to join tals ate at Fa t of copious lovemaking ick in ered te rating and painting, eur artist and couldn’t portray ampering and bee Selatin K to Neriman-faced Leyla, ratifying it as Fa it ed, captured and killed Faablisy over ernally beautiful Neriman Sultan.
DJIMturists of Istanbul recount tall Me—known as Muly as an example of long life and blindness. all Me is
essentially a parable of painting and time. tinction of ter, rated for more or less 110 years going blind, ion. I’m not being ty expressing my sincere admiration. tall Me dreyle of t masters of old, but even more so, and for test of all masters. e devotion to illustration and painting, s o become urist, te age and talent. As a miniaturist, for 110 years, iently rendered every trivial detail: grass drao fill up t repetitive strokes, brick ation and t-eyed, delicate-cens of t ion of one anotall Me e content and reserved and o distinguised about style or individuality. o be time a fixture in t rangled one anoturists moved from city to city like to assemble under ters, tyle of ts all Me dre t al and began to believe t rated. Perained t ed outside time and tributed going blind—despite living a ents uted miniaturists’ aring at manuscript pages—to time o flo ter iful slant-eyed, sed for a century: a part-C-Croatian sixteen-year-old apprentice in Saurists’ ly and understandably, o seduce tice of unimaginable beauty, as a true lover urists; o lying, deception and trickery. At first, ter miniaturist of Ked by tempts to catco tistic fas t also divorced ernal legendary days of old. Late one afternoon, staring dreamily at tiful apprentice before an open abriz of sneezing, completely blind. ter, y stone worksairs and died.
“I’ve all Me of K I’ve never his legend,” Black said.
ely offered t to sory ed. I fell silent for a time so are at me to ’s content. Since it bot occupied, just after beginning tory, I started to paint again, picking up my knee and mixed my paints, simes erased my errors, silently sat beside me, listening and staring; from he sounds of my wife’s
movements could be heard.
“Aaan has arisen.”
ared at ting ended t, but let me tell you candidly: Our Exalted Sultan appears seated in all tivities, cy-ts, guilds, spectators, soldiers and prisoners from ted for ture of mine is , tossing money from florin-filled pouco to capture tement of trangling one anoto grab coins off tting tohe sky.
“If love is part of t of ting, t to be rendered ing. Yet t to emerge from t first glance invisible yet discernible inner ure, not from tration or from tears. I didn’t depict surprise, as it uries by er miniaturists, as a figure ed into t made ting embody surprise. ting to rise to .”
I rigued and botinized my possessions and illustrating tools, nay my wo see my own hrough his eyes.
You knole pictures t abriz and Sime; so t ture mige ted Allaands all, turist tion as t it in raig all terior details—o ts and pans, drinking glasses, ation, curtains, caged parrots, t private corners, and t of day. Like a curious aruck reader, Black s, my papers, my books, my lovely assistant, tumes and t I’d made for a Frankisraveler, scenes of fucking and ot pages I’d secretly dass of variously colored glass, bronze and ceramic, my ivory penknives, my gold-stemmed brusice.
“Unlike ters, I’ve seen a lot of battle, a lot,” I said to fill t s of Our Sultan and our generals. After a military campaign, upon returning to Istanbul, it tle t everyone ten, corpses sliced in troops defending ted toles, rebels being decapitated and ttacking at full gallop. I commit everyto memory: a neyle of ing t I’ve never seen before, a cannon, trigger of a neyle of Frankis color
robe during a feast, we w, who placed his hand where and how…”
“ are tories you’ve told?” asked Black in a manner t summed everytly called me to account.
“Alif,” I said. “t story demonstrates t no matter alented a miniaturist mig is time t makes a picture ”perfect.“ ”Ba,“ tory to escape time is trating. As for tory, you proceed to tell me, then.”
“Djim!” said Black confidently, “tory about teen-year-old miniaturist unites ”Alif“ and ”Ba‘ to reveal ime ends for t life and perfect illuminating, leaving not deat it demonstrates.