“I walk in my sleep through earth and heaven. I have set the sky in two parts.” This translation from the Egyptian Book of the Dead reminds us of the power of sleep, that mysterious kingdom we visit each night. The Fitzwilliam’s exhibit of ancient Egyptian and traditional African headrests confirmed just how interesting sleep, and its accessories, can be.  

Conceived by Sally-Ann Ashton, curator of the Fitzwilliam’s Egyptian and Sudanese collections, and Professor Jean Michel Massing, the exhibition showcased the strange, bold beauty of headrests and the craftsmanship behind them. It also proved their cultural significance and explored links between ancient Egyptian and African culture. The earliest headrests in the exhibition date from the Old Kingdom (around 2707-2369 BC.) Used to support the sleeping user and ward off danger in the night, they were then buried with their owners to make sure the head remained attached in the afterlife.

 

Triumph, Protection & Dreams traced the iconic “pillow of dreams” through Africa, clarifying how the use of the headrest has evolved over time. Though it can protect body and soul, sometimes you just have to cushion your ‘do:  a recent photo depicted a Karo man (Ethiopia) using his headrest to support his clay headdress. On more than one headrest, traces of kabbe were found—a buttery hair care product.  Other headrests, many publicly displayed for the first time, showed signs of use as containers, seats, cutting boards or even shields.

 

5000 years of widespread use has caused fascinating variations in appearance. One smooth calcite headrest, inscribed with hieroglyphics, featured two hands cradling the platform, which stood on carved ankles and delicate feet. In stark contrast was a 20thC “block type” Ethiopian headrest, a chunky structure carved from one hunk of wood, bearing a fishbone pattern. Animal symbolism was a frequent motif, especially in the musaw of the Congolese Yaka, whose beliefs link human and animal behaviour. Displayed proudly in the centre of the room, a serene-faced dog supported the platform, a metaphor for both masculinity and clairvoyance. Similar was the Rendile headrest (Kenya): a perfect tree-branch, suggesting a deer bending its spindly legs over a watering-hole.

 

 Triumph, Protection & Dreams, small but exquisite, demonstrated the artistic and thematic depth of the Fitzwilliam’s collections. It was a joy to see these modest objects given centre stage.