Introduction

Copies, facsimiles, and reproductions of artifacts regarded as being relevant from architectural, artistic, or sociocultural perspectives are as old as the artifacts themselves (Bolaños 2013b: 51–53). However, it is not until the nineteenth century that we find collections exclusively made up of copies, mainly in Europe and in the United States, which soon gained considerable popularity (for a brief overview of this trend see, with previous references, Schreiter 2014). The encyclopedic eagerness of the century, together with the shaping of museums and academic disciplines in the way that we know them today, were the ideal catalyst for this process. In these collections, photographs and electrotypes—the new technologies of the time—became firmly established over the course of the century, but there can be no doubt that plaster casts remained the main attraction (for some insights on museum photography and electrotyping in the framework of a plaster cast collection, see Patterson and Trusted 2018: 81–83 and 97). Among these pieces, casts of Greek and Roman sculptures and reliefs along with replicas of pieces from the Italian Renaissance were the most valued, and in time they created a canon within this milieu (Nichols 2006: 116–18; Bolaños 2013b: 53–58). Certain collections chose other, less mainstream options: for example, the reproduction of local artifacts, a particularly significant move against the backdrop of the construction of national identities in the changing geopolitical panorama of the nineteenth century (Bolaños 2013a: 16–19). Other collections included ancient West Asian artifacts, a novelty at a time when archaeological campaigns were in full swing in modern-day Iraq (Larsen 1996; Thelle 2019). The latter, still largely overlooked in the specialized literature, are the focus of this special issue of the Journal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeology and Heritage Studies.The research on plaster casts is attracting growing attention in academia, but there is still a long way to go; we need to reverse years of neglect. Indeed, interest in these artifacts, seen as objects both of study and of exhibition, gradually faded during the twentieth century (Alexandridis and Winkler-Horaček 2022: 7–12). With the increase in mobility of growing sectors of the population, artifacts praised and marketed as “originals” were indisputable objects of desire among visitors and collectors, but those labeled “copies” were regarded as second-rate creations, of little or no value. As a result, many plaster cast collections were dismantled and disappeared from the academic agenda. Luckily, in the twenty-first century this situation began to change, with a reevaluation of plaster casts both in public displays and in the scholarly literature (for examples of this resurgence, dealing with diverse sources and perspectives, see Lending 2017; Haak, Helfrich, and Tocha 2019; Payne 2021; Alexandridis and Winkler-Horaček 2022). This renewed attention that plaster cast collections are attracting today is benefiting from the emergence of new perspectives, multidisciplinary approaches, and the study of archival documents that were often neglected in the past. However, this interest has focused mainly on plaster casts of classical and Renaissance sculptures, reliefs, and architectural elements, while copies of ancient West Asian artifacts are still underrepresented. This special issue is a contribution to rectifying this situation while adding to the growing interest in the study of plaster casts and plaster cast collections as a whole.As pointed out by V. Tocha, curator of the Gipsformerei in Berlin, the history of plaster casts is often constructed around dichotomies such as arts and crafts, positive and negative, active and passive, life and death, presence and absence, original and copy (Tocha 2019: 15–16). The definition and delimitation of these terms is a complex task, as shown by Durgun’s contribution to this special issue, and it is beyond the scope of this introduction to enter these debates (interested readers may consult Bolaños 2013a: 25–27; Di Paolo 2018; Michel and Friedrich 2020: 3–7). However, it is relevant to offer here some initial reflections on what I have found to be an unavoidable paradox underlying many case studies discussed in this special issue. On the one hand, it is imperative to recognize the instability of the boundary between “original” and “copy,” something that is especially evident in relation to the art of the ancient world; but on the other, there is a clear need to maintain this boundary in order to fulfil the objectives of historiographical studies such as the ones brought together here.Maintaining the boundaries between “original” and “copy” allows us, firstly, to reflect on which pieces are considered reproducible in a given moment, and in what formats (from traditional casts to the pens, mugs, or umbrellas found in museum shops). These strategies may give visibility to a piece and make it appealing and recognizable. Furthermore, they may contribute to the piece entering the canon—or, if it already has, its presence in a given canon is ratified and amplified. To study the mechanisms that are activated in this case, at these different levels, distinguishing between original and copy might still be productive. This will allow us, in turn, to reflect on which reproductions are accorded greater or lesser legitimacy at any given time.Secondly, from a historiographical point of view, the distinction between originals and copies is important given that identifying the piece from which a particular cast was made is one of the main tasks of studies on artistic reproductions. This is less urgent in the case of casts of sculptures and reliefs from classical antiquity and the Renaissance, since these are well-crafted works that are well known and whose identification with the original is usually straightforward. If we look at the copy of Michelangelo’s David, for instance, there can be no misunderstanding: We know that there is only one sculpture with this name, by this sculptor, from this period and that, therefore, reproductions of any kind can only be based on this work. The situation changes radically when we look at ancient West Asian pieces; we know nothing of the authorship and many pieces are known not by a proper name, but by an inventory number. In addition, in the case of the Neo-Assyrian reliefs, which will feature in several contributions to this special issue, we have a multitude of scenes that are repeated. In this case, then, maintaining the dichotomy between original and copy, and identifying which original a particular cast was made from, remains an important task in order to provide the biography of each object in a collection. From a historiographical point of view, therefore, this important task is still pending.Thirdly, another key aspect is the distinction between copies and forgeries and their relationship to the original. While the former are considered lawful, the latter are not; in spite of this (or perhaps because of it), forgeries have traditionally aroused more sustained interest over time in both academic and nonacademic circles than reproductions. In this case, what is particularly fascinating is the deception, skill, and professionalism of both those who are able to produce a facsimile of the original and those able to circulate it among a select and educated audience that should be able to distinguish between the original and the copy (Michel and Friedrich 2020: 10–15). Thus, in some cases it may be advisable to maintain the distinction between the original and its replicas, whether lawful copies or forgeries, because it allows us to distinguish between different uses, circuits, and intentions. In the case of the material culture of the ancient world, this distinction is particularly relevant given the impact and importance of the antiques market at various levels, especially in the field of ancient West Asian artifacts (Muscarella 2000; Michel and Friedrich 2020: 17–20).The attention paid to the plaster casts of ancient West Asian artifacts has varied according to country. While in Germany and the United States several scholars and institutions have made them the focus of curatorial and research projects, in other countries such as Spain these pieces still go largely unnoticed. In Germany, we should acknowledge the monumental work of Ellen Rehm (2018), who has devoted herself to locating and cataloging copies of Mesopotamian pieces in collections of all kinds, including museums, universities, and educational centers. In the United States, several institutions including the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Smithsonian in Washington, and the Harvard Museum of the Ancient Near East are committed to reevaluating their collections of casts. This special issue is intended as a showcase of the research carried out in these contexts, which are beginning to gain traction, even though an immense amount of work remains to be done.On the other hand, as an example of an environment where such copies still go unnoticed, in this special issue some space is devoted to Spain. This is a country that has guarded replicas of ancient West Asian artifacts since the end of the nineteenth century even though it lacks a tradition in cuneiform studies (Garcia-Ventura 2023), a circumstance that makes it a unique context for research. The inclusion of Spain in this special issue aims to highlight case studies that have hitherto been considered marginal. However, to obtain a better understanding of the big picture created thus far, we need to pay attention precisely to people and to projects perceived as peripheral in certain historical narratives. Furthermore, with a selection of case studies from the United States, Germany, and Spain, this issue offers a glimpse into a growing field of study, facilitating comparisons and hopefully providing inspiration for new research not focused exclusively on a single geographical or cultural area. In doing so I defend the need to examine different case studies that may initially appear to have no immediate connection, but that often reveal associations and facets of the overall picture that enrich it. Good examples of this are the replicas of the “Deluge tablet,” which are referred to in several contributions to this special issue (Dunn-Vaturi and Rakic, Durgun, Garcia-Ventura, Nagel).As an illustration of the diversity outlined so far, this special issue comprises six articles. Two concentrate on the plaster casts of ancient West Asian artifacts in Spanish collections (Azara and Albaladejo, Garcia-Ventura). Both deal with topics that have not been explored so far, starting from the study of unpublished archival documents. Of the other four articles, all of which deal with the role of plaster casts in major museums, one focuses on Germany (Durgun), while the other three discuss case studies from the United States (Aja and Barjamovic, Nagel, Rakic and Dunn-Vaturi). Some of the case studies discussed in the articles have been developed as part of research projects within the university academic framework, while others have been carried out in the museum environment, and indeed most of the authors work (or have worked) as curators. All this adds to the plurality of voices and approaches that this special issue offers.Despite the diversity highlighted, all papers address in one way or another (1) the specificities of the incorporation of plaster casts of ancient West Asian artifacts into various collections, and (2) the pedagogical uses of these pieces. In what follows, I briefly address both topics in order to prepare the ground for the subsequent contributions.At the end of the nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth, casts of ancient West Asian pieces circulated mainly in two contexts: collections of copies linked to universities and collections linked to large encyclopedic museums. Occasionally, in contexts such as late nineteenth-century Madrid, which could be considered peripheral in relation to the interest in, and knowledge of, Ancient West Asia, copies of this kind also proliferated in museums of reproductions. In university collections, casts were used primarily in art, history, and fine arts courses, and so, having the latest additions and a variety of models was a priority. The other context in which these copies circulated widely was that of large encyclopedic museums, especially in the United States.Institutions such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Smithsonian saw the copies as an opportunity to complete their extensive collections, which were well-stocked in some areas but underrepresented in terms of originals from ancient Mesopotamia. For other geographical areas and time periods in the ancient world, originals were still preferred, possibly because the circuits had been in operation longer and were able to meet demand. However, for ancient West Asian artifacts some scholars like the Assyriologist Paul Haupt (1858–1926), of German origin but who pursued most of his career at the Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, contended that for certain purposes copies where even more valuable than originals. This can be seen, for instance, in this excerpt from a handwritten letter that Haupt sent to George Brown Goode (1851–1896), then director of the Smithsonian National Museum, dated October 29, 1888: “It was agreed upon to acquire a representative collection of casts for the present, instead of spending large amounts for the purchase of a few high-priced originals which might be of but little interest to the public.”1The agreement referred to in this letter from 1888 had been in operation for about a year, and thanks to the following excerpt from a handwritten letter that Haupt sent on March 28, 1887, to the secretary of the Smithsonian, Spencer Fullerton Baird (1823–1887), we know that the copies in question were to be of Mesopotamian pieces that had already arrived in the United States in order to make the operation financially viable: “Valuable Assyrian and Babylonian antiquities have from time to time been sent to this country to Museums, Colleges and private persons. In their scattered condition they are thus nearly inaccessible and almost unknown to the learned world. It seems to me that a collection in one place of casts of these objects would be of considerable scientific and educational value.”2Although these archival documents refer to a quite specific reality (described in more detail in Nagel’s article in this special issue), they are representative of a process that also occurred in other contexts as distant geographically, though not chronologically, as the Museum of Artistic Reproductions in Madrid. Juan Facundo Riaño (1829–1901) was director of this museum in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, at a time when he also was appointed Antiquarian of another institution in Madrid, the Real Academia de la Historia. As noted above, Spain was a country without a tradition in cuneiform studies and archaeological interventions in the area; therefore, the opportunities to look for ancient West Asian originals in museums and in private collections were limited. However, through his links with both the Museum of Reproductions and the Academia, Riaño knew that the latter possessed, exceptionally, some pieces of Neo-Assyrian art. In addition to the commission of casts from originals at the British Museum, as discussed in my own contribution to this special issue (see Garcia-Ventura), Riaño ordered the casts of these Neo-Assyrian pieces. The originals, an inscription and two reliefs from the palace of King Sennacherib (704–681 BC), were the result of a donation by the diplomat Antonio López de Córdoba (1799–1854) and had been kept at the Academia since 1851 (Almagro-Gorbea 2001).The two examples cited here, from the United States and Spain, are paradigmatic of a reality that was replicated in many other contexts and shows us how, in reality, not all the copies of Mesopotamian pieces commissioned at the end of the nineteenth century by museums were the result of a specific search-and-selection process. This was so, at least in part, because ancient West Asian artifacts were still archaeological novelties at that time and not yet part of a canon that would take shape only slowly (Gansell and Schafer 2020). Needless to say, this was a distinctive feature of the incorporation of plaster casts of ancient West Asian artifacts in several collections: It was a procedure that was not applied to the selection of plaster casts representative of classical antiquity or the Renaissance, where the recognition of specific pieces that were part of an ancient canon was precisely the driving force behind the production and circulation of plaster casts of those pieces.The use of copies for educational purposes has a long history. The practice was already commonplace in ancient Mesopotamia (in this case, the copy of texts), and it was inherited in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when many of the copies of ancient West Asian artifacts in circulation were of tablets, steles, and royal inscriptions that could be used to teach cuneiform writing and the different languages expressed in it (Durgun 2022).However, at the end of the nineteenth century when reproduction museums experienced a boom, these copies were used above all in art education (Patterson and Trusted 2018: 17). On the one hand, casts were three-dimensional models that could be used by the artists for a purely stylistic study of the pieces and for training in drawing techniques; they made it possible to put into practice the transition from a three-dimensional image to a two-dimensional one, a stage that was often considered preparatory for drawing from real-life models (Azcue Brea 1991: 401–2). On the other hand, particular value was attached to the effect that contemplating the casts would have on the holistic education of students, considering that admiring beauty, a quality intrinsically attributed to the plaster casts, was in itself an educational activity (Bolaños 2013a: 16–17).The contributions to this special issue bear witness to all these uses but also point to others that have been less studied to date. The first to mention is the use of plaster casts of ancient West Asian artifacts to build the canon, or at least their contribution to this construction (see especially Durgun’s article). As pointed out above, this is significant for ancient West Asian art, which at the end of the nineteenth century was still a on the with the of its value and to be key in its as art and its introduction in the artistic canon was the which began to in the and its in the when of Neo-Assyrian reliefs were especially in the United and were in a variety of including and casts were another of this in addition, that was one of the main of the plaster cast market something that to the of through this as pointed out above, the educational use of plaster casts has been to the or to drawing and the practice of fine the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century, they were for instance, for the training of (see and Albaladejo, in this special Furthermore, a example of a new in these educational purposes is the at the Harvard Museum of the Ancient Near East (see and Barjamovic, in this special issue), which a of and an of the history of ancient West and its material All the diverse approaches to plaster casts on the following the reevaluation and study is in the to them from In the case of plaster casts of ancient West Asian artifacts this is even more given their us that the years will more research projects that on these artifacts and on the collections in which they were and in some cases are still