By Ben Doyle
- Ben Doyle is an art history student at the University of Auckland, about to enter his honours year. He is the 2013 Postgraduate Representative for the Art History Society. He recently visited Vietnam and Cambodia, below are his reflections on Angkor Wat from an aesthetic and cultural preservation perspective, along with the stunning photography he took during his visit.
As the iridescent sun filtered through the clouds and into my
aeroplane window, I could just make out the lotus minarets of Angkor Wat,
rising majestically above the crowded tree line, and painted with pigments of
burning light, rivalled only in splendour by the dancing pastel sunsets of
Monet.
Up close, the one thousand year old Hindu temple was no less
spectacular than my initial fleeting impression from above. Crossing the almost
two hundred meter wide moat to the entrance of the complex, I gained an
appreciation of the immense scale with which the temple was constructed.
Towering above me was not only the largest Hindu temple on the planet, but
perhaps the most intricately and beautifully carved work of art I had ever
seen. The incredible detail dedicated to every surface of the structure had me
both astonished and mesmerised, so much so that I proceeded to view the
entirety of the temple with my jaw hanging down to my knees. On the outer wall
of the inner sanctuary, a 430 meter long continuous bas-relief narrated the
universal history of humanity, which, despite being longer than the height of
the Eiffel Tower, lacked not a single degree of precise detail. Following the
labyrinthine passages interwoven throughout the temple, I would periodically
stumble upon a sculptural work, left half destroyed by time immemorial, but
still full of beauty and integrity, carved with a minute accuracy seemingly
impossible by hand, but unquestionably done so.
In a nation of only infantile development, Cambodia has
unexpectedly grasped, with two hands, a mature understanding of artistic
preservation. Whilst visiting neighbouring Vietnam I was distressed, yet
somewhat unsurprised, by the abysmal and insensitive attempts to curate and
maintain precious historical artefact, which in most cases where given no
conservation effort at all. To be fair, developing countries tend to find
themselves under constant economic, societal and environmental pressure,
creating ample distraction from the seemingly less imminent problem of
curatorial integrity. Perhaps, then, this is why I found the temples of Angkor
in Cambodia so astonishing. Despite being ravaged by famine, war and continual
political instability, the Cambodian government have so sensitively restored
and maintained these national icons. Even if the only incentive is a steady
income of foreign currency from tourists, it is impossible to deny the huge
feeling of pride and unity given to the Cambodian people by the great popularity
of Angkor Wat. Perhaps, even if the proper attention is only given to these
artefacts because of an economic incentive, it does not matter, because in the
end, the temples themselves are maintained to a satisfyingly high calibre, and
in doing so, these hugely important cultural artefacts are preserved for future
generations.
Much like the Parthenon of the Athenian Acropolis in Greece,
restoration of Angkor Wat is intentionally limited to the rebuilding of
integral structural features and outstanding sculptural elements, so as to not
overwhelm the original temple with contemporary additions. In doing so, upon
visiting this gem of Cambodian culture, one is able to appreciate,
simultaneously, the ruinous beauty of such an incomprehensibly ancient monument,
and the glorious splendour with which the structure must have originally stood,
though now only a shadow of its former self, still, without a doubt, one of the
great wonders of the world, and a cultural requiem for human kind.
