‘Anathemia’ sequinned tapestry by Roxanna Bikadoroff
Recessional(A Victorian Ode)
God of our fathers, known of old – Lord of our far-flung battle line Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget – lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies — The Captains and the Kings depart – Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet. Lest we forget – lest we forget!
Far-called our navies melt away – On dune and headland sinks the fire – Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget – lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe -. Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet. Lest we forget – lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard• All valiant dust that builds on dust, And quarding calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy people, Lord! Amen.
Recessional was (along with The Vampire) written by Rudyard Kipling in 1897, to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. A cautionary Imperialist, he wished to remind his fellow countrymen where England’s power and glory ultimately came from. ‘Lest we Forget’, of course, became the classic war memorial epitaph. (Nineveh is modern day Mosul, in Iraq).
photo: Staff Sgt. Douglas Olsen, USAF
ANAT/ANATH
Anat was the Goddess of war and death, worshipped throughout Mesopotamia and Egypt, from prehistoric times to the 4th-6th century AD. Sculptures of Anat are sometimes confused with male warrior/death Gods, because of her boyish physique. Her adolescent form, however, distinguishes her from a nurturing, mother goddess. Anat personifies the irresistible, testosterone induced ‘rush’ experienced in both sex and battle, which summons willful young men to one mortal coming of age or another.
Violently she smites and gloats, Anat cuts them down and gazes; her liver exults in mirth.. for she plunges her knees in the blood of soldiers, her loins in the gore of cleaving among the tables.
– From the “Ras Shamra Texts” (Canaanite cuneiform tablets), Syria Primitive, sacrificial rights of Anat (Anath)
Anat warrior idol and relief, Egypt
Anat’s bloodlust may have to do with war and genital mutilation being the male equivalent of menstruation rights, as well as primitive blood sacrifice required to fertilize the earth. But like her prototypes, Durga and Kali, she was also prayed to for peace and severs illusion and attachment.
Remove from the earth war, Set in the dust love; Pour peace amidst the earth Tranquility amidst the fields
photo: Roxanna Bikadoroff
The Tapestry
War is anathema. It depletes blood like anemia. Hence, Anathemia, which sounds like a contagious, war disease.
I began working on this third and final tapestry of my series ‘Queen of the Night – an Orientalist Fantasy in sequins starring Theda Bara as The Vamp’ during the start of the Syrian war (the recent one), then only worked on it sporadically. When the current war in/on Ukraine began, however, I was able to channel some of ‘her’ energy and finish the piece. It definitely has more of an active, animated feel than the first two, with explosions going on all around, comets of doom flying and vultures pointing the way, while red poppies sprout from spilled blood.
The goddess sports a westernized mini skirt with a ‘V’ for victory, black high boots/long gloves, and modern weapons replace her old cleaver and spear.
Anat’s lion becomes a panther, reminiscent of the ‘restricted’ symbol for 18+ movies, ie, when a young man is old enough for sex films, he is old enough for battle – a competition over him between love goddess and war god breaks out. But like Ishtar, dual goddess Anat cleverly embodies both morning and evening star personas.
Theda Bara (anagram for ‘Arab Death’) famously played Cleopatra in the 1917 Fox film, wherein she wore a variety of interesting ‘Egyptian’ headgear. The vulture crown, below was said to be her favourite.
‘Coronation’ crown worn by Theda Bara in Cleopatra, 1917
This post is about the inspiration and research behind the first in a series of three tapestries, which has it’s own art page, here. I have Black Moon Lilith and Moon on the ascendant, at the same degree, so astrologically speaking, she’s always ‘in my face’, a topic of much speculation, creativity and learning.
LILIMOTH
Initially, I’d wanted to create something that commented on the US invasion of Iraq. But beyond the political, the psychological motivation behind it seemed to be a continuation of an orientalist, biblical fantasy, mythologized on the silent screen by stars like Rudolf Valentino and Theda Bara. Muse of William Fox (Fox Studios), Theda’s stage name was an anagram for ‘Arab Death’ and the legend was that she had been born under the Sphinx. In reality she was a Jew from Cincinnati, Theodosia Burr Goodman…but maybe her first name carried some karmic, Byzantine resonance. My grandparents adored her, and so do I.
Vamps: Philip Burne-Jones, Theda Bara and the Burney Relief (British Museum)
Fun fact: a direct lineage can be traced from Dracula to Fox News. Bram Stoker’s novel was published in 1897, same year as Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Kipling wrote two famous poems that year; Recessional (‘lest we forget’ – a warning about hubris, not a requiem) and The Vampire, based on his cousin Philip Burn-Jones’ painting of a lady Vampire. The latter became the script for the 1915 silent film ‘A Fool There Was – a Psychological Drama‘ starring Theda Bara as the Vamp, and the rest is history. Hollywood’s reigning succubus made Fox a fortune, and although the studio changed hands a few times over the decades, the news network still bears his name.
I had spent a number of years as an orientalist, myself, belly dancing in San Francisco, where, while American troops pillaged Bagdhad’s treasures, show biz promoters at home were busy recreating and selling Arab culture in their own name, just like in the good old days. It was disturbing to learn that some of the players and financiers behind the invasion believed that the actual Garden of Eden was located around Baghdad somewhere and needed reclaiming. Oil was only part of the story, Saddam was busy rebuilding Babylon on perceived christian turf at a prophetically critical time (imperialist rulers had long ago pillaged the originals, so he was recreating them) – oh no he didn’t. Patriarchs fighting over ownership of the Goddess’ terrain, what else is new?
‘Left in the Dust’ (early sketch)
Further, looking to nature for older, mythical memories, the Death’s Head Hawk Moth struck a chord. Acherontia atropos is the most popular of the three species, due to her pronounced skull marking and subsequent appearances in literature and film (such as the Silence of the Lambs). She lives primarily in the Middle East:
The species names atropos, lachesis and styx are all from Greek myth and related to death. The first refers to the member of the three Moirai who cuts the threads of life of all beings; the second to the Moira who allots the correct amount of life to a being; and the last refers to the river of the dead. In addition the genus name Acherontia is derived from Acheron, a river of Greek myth that was said to be a branch of the river Styx. [Wikipedia]
Death’s Head Hawk Moth (detail)
Turns out this little Moira of the night shares attributes with our lady Screech Owl (Lilith), such as, well, screeching (or rather, squeaking):
“However, let the cause of the noise be what it may, the effect is to produce the most superstitious feelings among the uneducated, by whom it is always regarded with feelings of awe and terror.”
~ Edward Newman, mid 19th century entomologist [ibid]
Have a listen to the cutest ‘I am the night’ ever, here.
Like Lilitu, who were thought to steal babes from their cradles, Acherontia steals honey from beehives by mimicking their scent. Her larva feast on nightshades, the accumulative affect of toxic alkaloids making them poisonous – perhaps formulating the distinct skull marking on the adult moth.
Nightshade and Owl Moth (details)
Medium being the message, I put away my paper and charcoal, and took out my unused, belly dance costuming supplies. Religious icons require materials that reflect light, be it glass, gold, movie screen or – why not? – sequins. Then I remembered having been blown away by a show of sequinned, Haitian Vodou Drapo (flags) in Montreal, some years prior, and that sealed it.
Lilimoth was completed in 2008. The second piece, Medusun, in 2009. The third piece, Anathemia, in 2022. This is a 3 part blogpost, so do read the other 2 to learn more!
Ah, Sex and War, Love and Death – the essential elements of any lasting narrative. In the western hemisphere, the sacred co-mingling of Mars, all sweaty from battle, and Venus, full of oysters, injects red life force into earthly vegetation each Spring (Aries and Taurus, but also planet Venus in Aries). In Autumn (Libra and Scorpio, but also planet Venus in Scorpio), they unite again in death, Venus committing sati on the bonfire and lonely Mars turning into a wolf that will eat the sick and weak who can’t survive the winter. Adieu, until next time around. The cycle begins, ends and begins again with this union of opposites. Or, as the tantric, Indian Goddess, Lalita puts it, “Like the Sun and Moon coming together in an eclipse, consciousness comes into being via orgasm.” (Funny how the first and last letters of that word spell OM).
Two versions of Indian Goddess Lalita, Babylonian ‘Queen of the Night’
Lalita means ‘she who plays.’ Her many incarnations include Lilith, Lilitu, Lili, Layla, Lola, Lulu, Lolita, etc, all having nocturnal, sexual or demonic connotations. As Hebrew Lilith, she is Adam’s first wife, the serpent in the Tree of Life who teaches him (or Eve, depending which version) “carnal” self-knowledge, i.e. the mysteries of sex, life and death. She is not made from his rib, either, but from earthly muck. When God expels her for her independent spirit (refusing to lie beneath her husband in missionary position), she flies away to where the wild things are, and, finding it preferable to subservience, becomes the prototype for sexual demoness, vamp and devil-humping witch, eating babies and seducing holy men in their sleep. Independent yes, but also deranged. Her name means ‘screech owl’ or ‘ghost.’
The cycle of existence is hard-wired by desire, Scorpio’s raison d’etre. During the Sun’s passage through Scorpio/the 8th house (sex, death, regeneration, energy, healing, shared resources, financial obligations and the occult), from Oct. 23 – Nov. 22, we honour the Sacred Dead and all taboos associated with them. During the few days of Samhain, All Soul’s Eve, Hallowe’en and Dia de Los Muertos, the veil between worlds is as thin as a spider’s web, allowing spirits to attend graveyard picnics and inhabit jack-o-lanterns. On Armistice/Remembrance Day, Nov. 11, we pause to honour those who, in the spirit of Mars (traditional ruler of Scorpio), sacrificed their lives in battle. This year, it will fall on 11-11-11, a date many are getting excited or apprehensive about, considering the power of master numbers 11 and 33.
The word ‘taboo’ originally meant sacred, and indeed, sacred things were kept under veils (where we get the word secret). It later came to mean something forbidden by society. Incest, cannibalism, bestiality and patricide are examples of common taboos. Then there are cultural variants, like the untouchability of the bereaved or of menstruating women, both considered ‘unclean.’ Even today, a woman may refer to her period as ‘the curse’ and drugs are routinely prescribed for blocking messy menstruation altogether. The very essence of sex and death, menstrual blood is even more powerful than blood spilled in battle, therefor extremely taboo.
Teenage menstruation fears gone haywire in Carrie, Bleeding Goddess at Kamakhya Temple, Assam
While the mysteries of womb and grave may be a secret, they are not the property of anyone. They are universally inherent in our DNA and as individually expressed as the infinite forms of nature. Yet, those who govern societies do not want people to be in charge of their own sex, death and regeneration. Whoever owns the rights/rites to these forces has all the power. Therefor, strict rules and guidelines for birth, sexual practices, soul redemption and corpse management are imposed on the populace (while those at the top often practice the complete opposite). Some of these are necessary for health reasons, or simply to protect people – it’s probably not a great idea to eat the deceased, for example, and forced sex with anyone is a violation of natural law – but mostly it’s an 8th house issue of controlling other peoples’ resources. It’s all energy, just like money or food.
Plutonians harnessing Venusian power in Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut
Another attribute of Scorpio is that of the collective nemesis or shadow. Since Scorpio is a feminine sign, this usually means feminine shadow – the harlot, devouring mother or hag – witches who channel the untamed forces of nature. And so we are divided, according to what’s deemed permissible. It is not just women who are affected by the censorship of essential parts of our being, either, since we are all composed of both masculine and feminine, feminine being the soul. Dreams, theatre and film portray our disconnected parts as characters in conflict and resolution. Ancient Greek drama was, essentially, group therapy. In the theatrical tradition of Hallowe’en, it’s socially acceptable (and fun) to dress up as our shadows or alter-egos and parade them proudly, witches being by far the most common. In recent years, Zombie Walks have become hugely popular, with thousands of participants of all ages. (I guess eating braaaaiiins must be therapeutic for a populace so dependent on artificial intelligence).
Beauty’s compassion breaks the Beast’s spell of duality, and Scorpio Winona feels Dracula’s pathos.
In Tarot, the Devil is shadow or dark twin to our solar self, banished to the underworld of our unconscious. Our repressed impulses live there, like creatures of the night, creating disquieting thoughts, illusions and dreams. Traditionally the shadowy, lunar feminine presides over these, but with Pluto and Neptune now on the scene, we can’t be blaming the Moon for everything. (Plus we’ve now an astrological, Dark Moon Lilith).
The chained doppelgangers in card 15 represent our dual nature, which must ultimately be reconciled. This is really the theme of Tarot’s visual narrative, with the climax – a complete breakdown of the ego, followed by a period of grace, darkness and rebirth or ‘dark night of the soul’ – occurring between these two cards, mirroring conception. In ancient astrology, the sign of Gemini was ruled by the Sun.
In extreme cases, the doppelganger can take on a life of its own and prey on the energies of its other. Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, which came to Robert Lewis Stevenson in a dream, is one such cautionary tale. Another is, of course, Dracula, the promiscuous, cannibalistic, murdering necrophile and most beloved Hallowe’en persona. Babylonian lilitu and medieval succubi were early inspiration for vampire lore, but it was Phillip Burne-Jones’ painting of a female vampire, inspired by Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel, that started the whole ‘vamp’ thing in popular culture. After viewing the painting, Burne-Jones’ cousin, Rudyard Kipling wrote his poem, The Vampire, which later became the script for A Fool There Was, the silent film that gave Hollywood’s myth-making industry it’s own Lilith, Theda Bara. Even her name – an anagram for Arab Death – relates back to the Babylonian demoness. (Venus in Scorpio until November 1 is the Vamp).
Man-made vamps: Burne-Jones’ gothic and Fox’s lady, Theda Bara
Some Scorpios have been accused of vampirish tendencies, thriving on the life energy of others. Though Scorpio expresses the urge to dominate/have power over life, it’s higher resonance is redemption through love, so it has multiple symbols: Scorpion – basic instincts are fear and desire. It amasses power for it’s own gain and stings itself when cornered. Eagle – sees from the heavens, rather than the ground and amasses power in order to redistribute to the whole. Phoenix – rises from it’s own ashes, symbol of self-regeneration par excellence. Dove – redeemer or Christ figure of eternal, pure love/light.
Most Scorpios are a mix of scorpion and eagle, some are phoenixes, few are doves – but all are redeemers in one way or another, for better or worse.
Thoth Tarot Death card, devouring Mother Kali
Indian Vedic astrology has not rushed to adopt Uranus, Neptune and Pluto as the new rulers of Aquarius, Pisces and Scorpio. It also still uses the sidereal system (tropical is commonly used in the west, relying on seasonal equinoxes rather than constellations) and the traditional calendar combines both solar and lunar cycles. Between mid-October and mid-November, it’s Libra season there and Hindus world-wide celebrate Diwali, a five day ‘festival of lights’ celebrating the triumph of good over evil, during which moral order or karma is restored. There are more variations than I’m qualified to write about, but the worship of Lakshmi, Goddess of wealth, wisdom and happiness is the main event. Lakshmi’s four arms represent the four principals of Hinduism – Dharma (duties/philosophy), Samsara (cycle of rebirth), Karma (right action/cause and effect) and Moksha (liberation from Samsara). She also wears red and sometimes rides an owl.
