Obituary:
Jenny Leimert (1956 -- 2003)
By
Angela Milward Jones
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Pharaonic inspiration in this hanging can be seen in the lotus flower, water sign, and stars
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JENNY Leimert died tragically in a car accident near Cairo on 1 June. She, like many contemporary artists working in Egypt, was inspired by Pharaonic and prehistoric art. Her unique contribution and originality lay in her ability to transpose and combine ancient images in a way that remained true to the spirit of the original.
Born in Illinois, Mary Jane Leimert, or Jenny as she was known, first came to Egypt in 1981 after training in graphic design and painting at the Parsons School of Design in New York. From childhood she was obsessed by Ancient Egypt but had not expected to land a job almost as soon as she arrived -- copying ceiling paintings in one of the Theban tombs. From that time on she became a familiar figure in the archaeological world, copying ancient wall paintings and reliefs and drawing artefacts for many archaeological expeditions, both foreign and Egyptian. She worked in Upper and Lower Egypt, from Minshat Abu Omar and Tel Ibrahim Awad in the Delta, Tuna Al-Gebel near Minya, the Valley of the Kings, and the Tombs of the Nobles and, most recently, Karnak in Upper Egypt. Her deep spiritual involvement in the art of Ancient Egypt was to shape her life.
Perhaps her favourite site was Dakhla Oasis where for several seasons she joined the Canadian archaeological mission. Her first assignment was to copy the reliefs and inscriptions on a Roman temple gate at Ain Birbiya. She also studied the prehistoric graffiti found in and around the oasis, and drew artefacts from the town site of Siment.
The simplicity of life in a mud brick village, long hours of work on excavations, and exposure to a wide spectrum of ancient symbols and techniques made a deep impact on Jenny, who felt that the little oasis was a microcosm of Egyptian history from the dinosaurs right up to the modern age. She was much concerned about the destruction of ancient monuments, and would have liked to be able to do more facsimile recording of tombs in order to preserve them, on paper at least.
Running parallel to this exacting and restrictive copying work, Jenny used the experience to observe and understand the techniques and skills of the ancient craftsmen. In painstakingly copying paintings, an awareness of how the scribe used his tools is inevitable -- where he began a line, where he paused to dip his brush in the inkwell and begin again, how he formed his figures. All this was absorbed and then used in her own art. Her ability to mimic ancient forms and styles was good enough to produce some rather too convincing figured ostraca (limestone chips used by the ancient artists for sketches of trial figures, scribbles, satire etc), and she had to be persuaded to stop; there was a risk that they would be confused with the real thing!
She was also intrigued by the colours used and the pigments from which they were derived. At Dakhla, she collected ochres to use in her own work, and she experimented at one stage with gold leaf. Eventually, she restricted her palette to fewer colours than were used by the ancients, but applied them, as they did in the past, as flat washes. These were often painted over a thin coating of plaster, which, as it dried, produced an aged appearance. She experimented with Egyptian motifs and designs -- flying birds, lotus flowers, stars, and geometric patterns. These were used in interwoven patterns or as isolated motifs in harmonious and graceful designs on wall hangings, furniture and whole rooms, celebrating an ancient idiom in a contemporary setting.
Through her copying work, Jenny had become interested in the fact that the Ancient Egyptian artist was impersonal and usually unrecognised; the attractive forms she created were never a personal expression (or indulgence, depending on how you view it) but a functional religious symbolism, connecting the reality of this world with that of the spirit world that was so close to them. Jenny's creations are designed to be a link between us and, as one observer described them, the "intelligence of this brilliant [ancient] culture.... Like the originals, they are conservative and decorative rather than personal." Perhaps because of this impersonal quality, her work has been dismissed by some as "the cosmic, flower thing", as one critic put it. But it is a welcome break from the usual fragmented and often visually harsh contemporary expression. It was a celebration of nature, reworked from ancient perceptions.
This choice of motifs reflected, consciously or otherwise, her love of the Egyptian landscape, both desert and valley. It was perhaps inevitable that she chose to live outside Cairo in a small village near Abu Sir. Here, her much-loved and tyrannical horse, Texas, will stay, cared for by close friends.
