"Golden Boy" Tutankhamun returns
Golden Boy is back
After 30 years, Tut makes a triumphant return
PHILADELPHIA—In his musical send-up of the King Tut craze of the 1970s, comedian Steve Martin sang of the Boy King: “He gave his life for tourism.”
It’s as true now as it was then. The new King Tut exhibit, “Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharoahs,” is expected to draw more than 1 million visitors to Philadelphia’s Franklin Institute before it moves to London at the end of September.
In 2007, as in the late 70s, the doe-eyed, baby-faced monarch of Egypt has people practically punching time cards for a chance to view 3,500-year-old artifacts (it’s true: tickets are sold in half-hour increments, so don’t dare show up at 9:35 with a 9 a.m. ticket; but once in, you can stay as long as you like).
The display is dazzling, the exhibit well worth the trip. The only collection I’ve seen that’s even remotely comparable is England’s Crown Jewels, which are gorgeous in photographs, but almost electrifying when you view them in person.
Tut’s treasures—the ancient Egyptian crown jewels—are equally spectactular. They include exquisitely wrought gold, alabaster and silver jewelry and funerary ornaments, a jeweled urn containing the king’s mummified organs, and a gilded shrine of Tut and his bride.
There’s a mummy mask—you’ll feel as if the young king is gazing right into your eyes—along with a silver trumpet, a golden jewel case, scepters and scarabs, and items culled from other tombs of the period.
The Egyptians—at least the royal classes—lived very large, the more bling, the better. Perhaps the iconic image of the exhibit is King Tut’s royal diadem, or crown of gold. Light practically glints off the surface of the coronet. But this was not protective headgear—some Egyptologists claim Tut was killed by a crushing blow to the head, adding the possibility of murder to this already enthralling saga.
Kids should love Tut. There’s the spooky fear factor of walking through a replica of Tut’s burial chamber, considering the fates of Tut, Mrs. T and even their pets, all of whom ended up as mummies.
I went with a friend, and we saw loads of kids who were as interested as we in the secrets, the science, and the splendid remnants of a lost civilization, unearthed in 1922 by archaeologist Howard Carter. The discovery astounded the world back then. It still has the power to mesmerize.
More than 130 articles are on view, many of which were not available for show during the earlier Tut exhibit, which lasted from 1976 through 1979 (the current show hit the road in 2005).
Tickets are on the steep side: $32.50 for adult admission on a weekend, $17.50 for kids, $24 seniors and students. Consider this one a once-in-a-lifetime adventure—it well may be—and go.
My favorite King Tut story has nothing at all to do with ancient royalty, and a lot more to do with a king of Hollywood.
During the last record-breaking exhibit, on its Los Angeles stop, a woman paused before a clear glass cube to ooh and ahh at a particularly striking piece of jewelry. Then she looked up, and fainted.
There, on the other side of the glass case, was Cary Grant. Alas, it couldn’t happen today.
The Franklin Institute is located at 222 North 20th Street in Philadelphia. For information or tickets, go to www.kingtut.org.
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