The start of Genesis in the Armenian Bible donated by Baroness Zouche. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, f 3r)

In the run-up to Easter, we had a little surprise. By “we” I mean my family, not the Library. Late in March, two pigeons showed up to scope out our flower box. Then they brought twigs. Then they built a nest. Finally, one Monday, coming back from a weekend away, we noticed two unattended white eggs. One of the adults soon returned and stayed put. Pigeons take turns incubating their eggs, which means that one of the two parents was always there eyeing us suspiciously. Eventually, the eggs hatched and now two beautiful little pigeons (or squabs, to use the technical term) have their breakfast and dinner along with us – separated, naturally, by several layers of glass.

Eggs are, of course, associated with Easter. In this blog, however, I’m going to look at what comes after the egg: the bird. In the last week and a half of Lent, as our little soon-to-be-feather friends grew, I saw birds everywhere I looked. Some were even in the manuscripts.

The beginning of readings for the Saturday of Light, starting a midnight on Good Friday. (Nitria, Egypt. 1274 CE) (Add MS 5997, f 260r)

The first fowl incident came while helping a researcher in Canada locate a passage relating to the Saturday of Light (سبت النور) or Holy Saturday in Add MS 5997, a Bohairic Copto-Arabic Lectionary completed in 1274 CE. A lectionary is a collection of readings from Scripture tied to specific dates and events throughout the year. The practice isn’t unique to Christianity; Jews also make use of Parashat ha-Shavua (פָּרָשַׁת הַשָּׁבוּעַ), or weekly readings from the Torah, although these are not compiled into a separate book. As I learned recently, Copts have a variety of different lectionaries. Some might be for the whole year, others for Lent. Add MS 5997 is one intended just for the Easter period (كتاب البصخة المقدسة), containing explanations at the start of each selection informing readers when the passages should be read and where they come from.

A detail of the triple arch beginning the text for the Saturday of Light and the fowl motif on the right. (Nitria, Egypt. 1274 CE) (Add MS 5997, f 260r)

Lo and behold, at the bottom of folio 260r is the start of the Reading for the beginning Holy Saturday and with it, a long-necked bird with a black head and red comb, looking shyly at the margin above. This feathered friend caught my eye – once I had confirmed that I had the passage I need – and so too did dozen of their mates and siblings scattered across the manuscript. As Maria Cramer explains, birds and indeed animals of various types - dogs and gazelles among them - have featured in Coptic manuscripts from the first millennium onwards. And this continues on a long tradition from Ancient Egyptian artwork, which is itself heavily imbued with imagery from the animal kingdom. 

While the presence of birds was a welcome surprise – especially given our recent guests – it also rang a bell. Fowl, of course, feature in manuscripts in many other cultures. Whether in margins and letters, or as images for literary or historical accounts, which illustrator or illuminator didn’t love birds? But birds also play a special role in manuscripts from a nation in communion with the Copts: Armenian ones. Here, the use of birds to form capital letters is so common as to have its own name, t’rch’nagir (թռչնագիր), or bird-letter.

Where better to see the tradition than in one of the most stunning examples of this art, the Armenian Old and New Testaments copied in 1646 CE and donated to the Library by Darea Curzon, the 16^th Baroness Zouche (Or 8833)? While the 13^th-century Copto-Arabic Easter Lectionary features feathery friends with personality, the Armenian masterpiece brings them to us in their finery. The most impressing example, by far, is the start of Genesis. Here, a glorious frontispiece features the Virgin Mary with Baby Jesus, the four Apostles (including John with his associated eagle), and four elegant gold-and-navy peacocks. But below this panoply of visual sensations is the first word of the Old Testament, featuring an angel killing a dragon as the letter ini (Ի), followed by the rest of the word skězpanē (Սկըզբանէ; in the beginning) with each letter spelled out by intricate, lavish birds.

The Classical Armenian word for "beginning" fashioned from birds. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, f 3r)

Father Vrej Nersessian, our former Lead Curator of the Christian Orient, provided a detailed explanation of the significance of various birds. In doing so, he relies on the analysis conducted by Catholicos Nersēs IV the Gracious: “The Bible has for Nersēs Šnorhali a paradigmatic value. It traces the parameters within which all history is to be understood.” As such, it should not be a surprise that the birds appearing in Biblical manuscript illustration and illumination are themselves steeped in meaning. And, when it comes to the decoration of the Canon Tables, which provide internal correspondences between the four Apostles’ accounts about Jesus’ life, as well as those that are unique: “Through the visual pleasures of the Canon Tables one is supposed to ascend to the spiritual enjoyment of the Gospels themselves.” So then, to what heights are these winged friends carrying us? 

Canon Tables from the Armenian Bible donated by Baroness Zouche. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, ff 462r and 466 r) 

The discussion here is quite complicated, but to summarize: the eagle represents Christ, although it can also be the sign of the Apostle John; the cock is the advent of Christ; doves are the gift of the Holy Spirit; partridges are the sex workers who feature in Jesus’ story; fishing birds are symbols of the Apostles; and peacocks are the “purity of angelic spirits.” Monkeys and lions, Father Vrej informs us, are later additions coming from Western European sources.

A detail of a page of the Gospels showing a marginal avian decoration. (Copied by Yovhannēs Lehts'i, 1648). (Or 8833, f 699r)

Given this rich collection of different symbols and allusions, it should be no surprise that we find peacocks, roosters and, yes, even monkeys and lions, in the Canon Table menagerie. And, of course, other birds embellishing the margins. These are harder to identify, but it might just be that I’m not much of a birder.

The frontispiece of the Gospel of John featuring the Apostle below two birds. (Monastery of Yaspisunkal, Arjish, now Erciş, Türkiye. 1281 CE) (Or 2679, f 222v). 

Or 8833 is a high point of illustration and illumination. But birds and their various stylizations can be found in other manuscripts as well, sometimes less elegant or intricate, but still eye-catching in their own way. The two Bible manuscripts Or 2679 and Or 2680, both acquired from Reverend S. Baronian in 1883, provide us with a few interesting examples. The former contains a delightful frontispiece to the Gospel of John where the Apostle, presumably seated with pen and paper in hand, is under two gormless long-tailed birds. Throughout the manuscript, these cartoonish, elongated fowl can be found in the margins of pages, their tail feathers and crowns so crenellated they look almost like ferns.

The start of the Gospel of Matthew with "harpies" and human-as-letter. (Copied by Astuadzatur, 1317 CE) (Or 2780, f 10r)

In many ways, however, the birds – whatever their species – quickly fade from memory as soon as you encounter another inhabitant of the pages of both Or 2679 and Or 2680. These are fantastical creatures that marry the body of a bird and the head of a man, which Conybeare identifies as harpies. I think this is likely an unfair assumption. In the latter manuscript, an early 13^th-century copy of the Bible, two sit in the frontispiece above the start of the Gospel of Matthew, their bobs immaculate, looking suspiciously at the gutter and margin. In Or 2679, by contrast, the bird’s crown is never unequivocally converted from feathers to metalwork, providing a delightful ambiguity between what is human and what belongs to our flying friends. As with the full birds, the half-man, half-bird creatures in Or 2679 have expressions that often dance between stupor and wonder, leaving this birdwatching newbie to ponder their meaning vis-à-vis the Biblical text.

A detail of marginal decoration featuring a half-man, half-bird creature. (Monastery of Yaspisunkal, Arjish, now Erciş, Türkiye. 1281 CE) (Or 2679, f 222v). 

This Easter season, whether you celebrate or not, I hope that this blog has brought a little bit of curiosity about our feathered neighbours as well as the rich art found of Armenian and Coptic manuscripts. While you bite into your creme egg, take a moment to ponder the wonders of avian world and how it inspired artists and creators for millennium.

Dr. Michael Erdman, Head, Middle East and Central Asia 🐦

I’d like to thank Émile Tadros for his patience in guiding me through Add MS 5997, and to the Coptic clergy from the Diocese of London for sharing their accumulated wisdom and experience.

Works consulted

Conybeare, Frederick Cornwallis, A catalogue of the Armenian manuscripts in the British Museum (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1913).

Cramer, Maria, Koptische Buchmalerei: Illuminationen in Manuskripten des christlich-koptischen Ägypten vom 4. bis 19. Jahrhundert (Recklinghausen: A. Bongers, 1964).

Cramer, Maria, 'Studien zu koptischen Pascha-Büchern: Der Ritus der Karwoche in der koptischen Kirche,' Oriens Christianus (September 1963), Vol. 47, pp. 118-128.

Crum, Walter Ewing, Catalogue of the Coptic Manuscripts in the British Museum (London: Trustees of the British Museum, 1905).

Nersessian, Vrej, A catalogue of the Armenian manuscripts in the British Library acquired since the year 1913 and of collections in other libraries in the United Kingdom (London: The British Library, 2012).

The frontispiece of the first sub' Sultan Baybars' Qur'an (Ibn al-Waḥīd, Cairo, 705 AH/1304-05 CE). (Add MS 22406 f 2v)

Why don’t you know where this manuscript came from?!? Even if the words don’t exit the lips of some researchers, you can occasionally feel them burning into your soul, transmitted by the frustrated gaze of an inquirer hungry to know who else might have read a book, benefitted from its wisdom, admired its beauty. While we would all love to have such information, sadly, it’s rarely at our fingertips. Once upon a time, record-keeping did not touch on provenance, meaning that creating a fuller picture of the origin of some manuscripts in our holdings requires research elsewhere. Such is the case for a few of our best-known works, the seven volumes of the Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an among them.

The Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an, copied in 704-05 AH (1304-06 CE) by Ibn al-Waḥīd for Baybars Jashankir, has been expertly described by our former Head of Middle East and Central Asia, Dr. Colin Baker, most recently in a post on the Asian and African Studies blog. While the digitized version of the Qur’an will not be accessible through the links he provided because of the cyber attack we suffered in October 2023, you can still view them on Archive.org. Information abounds about the art historical aspects of the work, but very little is known about how it ended up in the British Museum’s collection. A brief note at the back of the volume states that it was purchased from the book dealer T & W Boone on 12 June 1858, but that’s about it.

In May 2024, I had the great opportunity to meet Dr. Noha Abou-Khatwa of the American University in Cairo. She visited the Library to view the asbā’ themselves just after we re-opened access to restricted manuscripts. She shared some of her deep knowledge about the manuscript with me, which is why I returned to her in December to see if she’d learned anything more about the Qur’an’s history. She said that she presumed it had remained in its intended home, the Al-Ḥākim Mosque (مسجد الحاكم), for most of its life. She also pointed me to a recent chapter by Dr. Alison Ohta that mentions an inscription in Add MS 22412, the seventh sub’. (Ohta 2023, page 144 note 45) Ohta was wrong about the location (it’s in Add MS 22406, the first sub’), but right about the content. The brief pencil note says that the manuscript was “stated to have been brought from Cairo by an English Clergyman.” The signature beside it isn’t legible, so I was left stumped.

A letter from Reverend Benjamin Webb to Mountstuart Elphinstone. (Benjamin Webb, Brasted Rectory, 1 February 1854.) (MSS EUR F88/168/20 f 48r)

But I have options other researchers don’t. Namely, I can go into our storage basements, where I decided to see if there were Arabic manuscripts purchased from a named individual immediately around the Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an. I had some luck when I found, almost immediately before the first sub’, nine Arabic and Persian volumes acquired from Rev. Benjamin Webb on 8 May 1858. Webb – described as a “Clergyman” on Wikipedia – was well-connected and active as an academic, but I could find no record of his ever having been to Egypt. When I called up some of his letters held in the India Office Records, I discovered that in 1854, when his father-in-law William Hodge Mill died, Webb was left to sort out his affairs. Mill was the first Principal of Bishop’s College in Kolkata and his library included some 70-odd “Arabic + Persian MSS.” (MSS EUR/F88/168 f. 48r) Here, I thought, was a breakthrough: maybe Mill bought the Qur’an in Egypt on his way back from India?

The answer might lay in Webb’s journals. So off I went to the Bodleian, in Oxford, to consult these. I have often thought myself clever for making personal notes in Turkish or Arabic. Now that I have tortured myself going through Webb’s half-English, half-Latin notes about his daily schedule, I will never do that again. These notebooks had little to offer me, except the brief remark that Webb visited the British Museum on 29 April 1858 to show some of his manuscripts to Sir Frederic Madden, a famed English paleographer and Keeper of Manuscripts at the BM between 1837 and 1866. (Bodleian MS Eng Misc.e.412, f 18r) Madden’s journal was also at the Bodleian, so I placed an order, went for lunch, and came back an hour and a half later with little hope I’d find something useful.

I was wrong. Where Webb was terse and bilingual, Madden was expansive (and only wrote in English). He didn’t just note absolutely everything, he also imposed a system of internal references between the daily entries in his journal. That’s how I found the entry from May 1858 in which he states that “Boone […?] a volume of a magnificent Koran written A.D. 1306 in letters of gold, in large folio. It is said to belong to a clergyman who purchased it at Cairo. I should much like to buy it at a moderate price.” (Bodleian MS Eng Hist.c.171, p. 195) Just above the word “Cairo” is a note to see page 300, referring to 24 August 1858. In the main text, Madden writes: “Inquired respecting the fine Coran bought of him + was now told that it belonged to an artist, whose name was not known, but that a clerk of Christie’s named Wood had negotiated for him. I shall [request?] more information when Mr. B the […?] returns.*” The asterisk leads us to the bottom of the page, where Madden adds: “It did not belong to an artist, but the Rev. Francis Frith, who purchased it a ruined mosque in Egypt, it is believed, in Cairo. He is now gone to the White Nile.” (Bodleian MS Eng Hist.c.171, p. 300; emphasis Madden’s) Eureka! We have a name!

A self-portrait of Francis Frith in Ottoman costume. (Francis Frith, printed by Paul Pretsch, 1857).
© Public Domain, provided by the Albertina Museum through Europeana.

But now the question is: just who was this Francis Frith? If you’ve followed the link before continuing with my story, you’ll see that he was no Man of the Cloth. In fact, Francis or Frances Junior was born on 7 October 1822 in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, and was an exceptionally successful photographer and businessman. His fame came from the mission he and his wife Mary Ann Rosling set for themselves in 1860: to photograph every town and village in Great Britain. This is largely the reason why Frith’s work can be found in institutions such as the National Portrait Gallery, likely linked in the metadata to the company he founded, Francis Frith & Co. Frith died in 1898, having left his mark on British photography and photographic publishing. The company he founded only closed in 1971, its archive eventually being bought, preserved, and scanned, to become the Francis Frith Collection. Francis’ impact has also been immortalized as part of the BBC documentary Britain’s First Photo Album .

Wait a minute – what about Egypt? Rewind to the mid-1850s, when Frith was just getting on his feet as a photographer. In 1856, the bachelor Frith set out for Egypt and West Asia, making three trips that covered Egypt, Nubia, Ethiopia, Palestine, Lebanon and Syria. His photographs of these travels are clearly identified as being part of the Orientalist movement. Many of them cemented the visual conceptualization – now supposedly made factual through the science of photography – of a decadent, languid, declining Orient. He seems to have been keen to photograph ruins as well as some of the natural wonders of the region, with a heavy dose of sites linked to Biblical narratives. This last part should not be a surprise, as Frith became a Quaker minister (is this what “Reverand Francis Frith” meant?) of a rather unorthodox sort. The first mention of his ministry, according to the Friends’ Quarterly Examiner, is 1872, after which he got into a spot of trouble with the publication of the controversial pamphlet A Reasonable Faith.

"Cairo from the East," one of Frith's photos of the Egyptian capital. 
© Public Domain, provided by the Rijksmuseum through Europeana.

Frith, according to Caroline Williams, was an avid reader of published works about Egypt in the early 1850s and particularly motivated by the Orientalist paintings of David Roberts. He did, however, believe he could do better by bringing realistic photographic representations of Egypt back to English viewers. And so, between September 1856 and June 1857, and again between November 1857 and May 1858, he travelled across Egypt, Nubia, Palestine and Syria. He did a third trip in late 1859-1860, this time going down the Nile to Ethiopia and then back up again through Sinai into Gaza. Williams provides a masterful explanation of the Frith’s importance for Orientalist photography and the challenges he faced in enacting it given the technology at his disposal and the specificities of Egyptian buildings and scenery. But perhaps we’ve gone too far. What about the manuscripts?

The answer lies in a beautiful publication of the Frith Foundation marrying Frith’s own photographs and texts, with those of his contemporaries editors Sophia Lane Poole and her son Reginald Poole, and Egyptologist Richard Lunn, who provided his own modern photographs of Egypt. Here, on pages 40-41, as if hiding in plain sight, comes the clearest statement yet about Frith’s initial transaction for Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an:

“I spent a summer in Cairo, and its neighbourhood… spent intervals of six weeks, in alternate fits of storm and calm, bargaining with a mysterious priest who visited me by night, and at length accepted one sixth part of what he first asked, for a splendid, illuminated copy of the Koran, seven hundred years old, in seven huge volumes, written in gold letters an inch high (now in the British Museum; perhaps the finest copy in Europe).” (Lunn 2005, pp. 40-41)

There can be no doubt that this was, and is, Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an. We therefore know, given the description, that Frith likely acquired it in 1857.

"The Mosque of El-Hakim" as found in the Lane and Poole's mammoth collection of Frith photographs taken across North-East Africa and West Asia. (Lane and Poole, Cairo, Sinai, Jerusalem and the Pyramids of Egypt) (London: James S. Virtue, 1860). 

And the priest? We now have so many versions of who bought what where from whom as to make the truth seem ever elusive. I think Frith’s account is possible, but excessively improbable. To paraphrase Noir fiction: of all the Europeans in all the tents in Cairo, he had to pick Frith? Surely, Umm al-Dunya had no shortage of art-hungry, rich Europeans who might pay more than a 35-year old, relatively novice photographer. To be serious, however, let’s return to Abou-Khatwa’s supposition that the Qur’an remained in the Mosque of al-Ḥākim. We know that Frith was at the Mosque in 1857 because Sophia Lane Poole and Reginald Poole’s Cairo, Sinai, Jerusalem, and the pyramids of Egypt : a series of sixty photographic views, published in 1860, contains not one but two of Frith’s photographs of the mosque. And Frith’s Egypt and Palestine Photographed and Described by Francis Frith contains one of these views of the Mosque, along with the same text found in Lane and Poole’s publication. I think it most likely that, if the manuscript was indeed kept there, Frith began his negotiations at the Mosque and they continued until he successfully acquired the seven volumes. The story of the furtive visits might be based on some nugget of truth, but I suspect that it was intended as an embellishment to increase the romanticism of Frith’s account, a surefire way to improve the appeal of any Orientalist text.

But who was this mysterious priest, or, more appropriately, counterparty? How did they have access to the manuscript and why were they willing to sell it at a bargain price? The answers to these questions, sadly, aren’t found in any of the sources I’ve mentioned here. They likely lie elsewhere, either in Frith’s personal papers, possibly at the Francis Frith Collection, or in Cairo, at the Mosque itself. Perhaps this short foray into the provenance of the Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an will spur some other curious soul to follow up on those threads.

Dr. Michael Erdman, Head, Middle East and Central Asia

I would like to extend my sincere thanks to Dr. Noha Abou-Khatwa for her guidance and immense knowledge on the Sultan Baybars’ Qur’an and all matters Mamluk.

Works Consulted

Frith, Francis, Egypt and Palestine photographed and described (London: James S. Virtue, 1858-59).

Lane Poole, Sophia and Poole, Reginald, Egypt, Sinai and Jerusalem: a series of twenty photographic views by Francis Frith with descriptions by Mrs. Poole and Reginald Stuart Poole (London: James S. Virtue, 1860).

Lunn, Richard, Francis Frith’s Egypt and the Holyland: The Pioneering Photographic Expeditions to the Middle East (London: The Francis Frith Collection, 2005).

Madden, Frederick. Journal, 1858. Bodleian Library, MS. Eng. hist. c. 171.

Ohta, Alison Aplin, ‘Mamluk Qurʾans: Splendor and Opulence of the Islamic Book,’ in Rettig, Simon and Sana Mirza (ed.), The word illuminated: form and function of Qur'anic manuscripts from the seventh to seventeenth centuries (Washington D.C.: The Smithsonian Scholarly Press, 2023), pp. 123-146.

Webb, Benjamin. Journal, 1858. MS. Eng. misc. e. 412.

Webb, Benjamin, Letter from Reverend Benjamin Webb at Brasted Rectory, to Mountstuart Elphinstone , 1 February 1854. British Library, Mss Eur F88/168/20.

Williams, Caroline, ‘A Nineteenth-Century Photographer: Francis Frith’ in Janet Starkey and Paul Starkey (ed.), Travellers in Egypt (London: I.B. Tauris, 1998), pp. 168-178.

Frederick S. Harrop was one of the first foreign art teachers hired by the Thai government in the early twentieth century. He lived in Bangkok from 1913-30 and helped to reform Thai art education and graphic design in his role as Art Master, and later Headmaster, of Poh-Chang School of Art and Crafts, the first modern art school in Thailand. It was founded in 1913 by King Vajiravudh (Rama VI), who – like many other Thai royals - received his education in the UK and continued the modernisation efforts of his father, King Chulalongkorn (Rama V). When Harrop arrived in Bangkok, he must have been fascinated by the richness of colours and brilliant light of the tropics. He immediately took great interest in traditional Thai art, design and decorative styles and blended these with Western techniques. His preferred subjects were the traditional architecture of Thai temples, people and street scenes, as well as boats and river views.

Left: Wat Benchamabophit, Bangkok, watercolour, signed F. S. Harrop, c. 1925. British Library, FSHA 1165. Right: Doorway, Wat Pho, Bangkok, pencil, pen and ink on paper, signed F. S. Harrop, c.1920. British Library, FSHA 1338. ©William R. Harrop

Frederick Samuel Harrop, born on 27 March 1887 in Batsford, Stoke-on-Trent, started his career as an apprentice to Grimwades pottery manufacturers in Stoke-on-Trent. Aged 17 he was attending evening classes at Stoke School of Art, and two years later he was awarded an Applied Arts Scholarship to study at Hanley Municipal School of Art, Science and Technology. In 1909 he won a scholarship to the Royal College of Art in London. Harrop developed his skills as a modeller draughtsman and designer through researching in the British Museum and the V&A, with its close relationship to the RCA. He explored various aspects of art education and took a Teacher’s Training course at the RCA. Study trips took him to the Netherlands, where he spent two months working with three other students of the RCA at the Palace of Peace in The Hague designing wall tiling that was fired in Delft.

F.S. Harrop (front row, 5th from right) with staff and students in front of Poh-Chang School, c. 1920. British Library, B 24.

In 1913, Harrop left the RCA without the full qualification certificate in order to take up a position as Assistant Art Teacher in Bangkok, and soon he rose to the position of Art Master at the School of Arts and Crafts (now known as Poh-Chang Academy of Arts, Rajamangala University of Technology Rattanakosin). In this role, he introduced Thai students to Western art forms and techniques, such as watercolour sketching and painting, drawing, printing, book design, graphic and letterform design, while at the same time adopting traditional Thai art styles and techniques in his own works. In turn, his students often blended European and Thai art styles in their works.

Life study, pencil and watercolour on paper, signed F. S. Harrop, 1924. British Library, FSHA 1346. ©William R. Harrop

In 1917 Harrop married Edith Florence Keyes in Singapore and they had two sons, Roger born in Bangkok in 1918 and James born during a home visit to England in 1920. Edith Harrop produced water colours herself, and both were active members of the expatriate community in Bangkok.
From 1921 on Harrop was also Organising Art Master to the Ministry of Public Instruction in Bangkok, where his duties included the training of drawing teachers for schools under the Ministry. In the School of Arts and Crafts, Harrop initiated and ran classes in applied design for metal and woodworkers, process reproduction (including line, half-tone and three-colour work), lettering, woodcut and lino-block printing, and modelling. He became Headmaster of the School of Arts and Crafts in 1922, and in the following years more courses were added, including photography, mother-of-pearl inlay, and gold-on-lacquer design.

Designs for posters by F. S. Harrop, c.1920, pencil, pen and ink on paper. Left: British Library, FSHA1181; right: British Library, FSHA1184. ©William R. Harrop

Harrop organised exhibitions at local, national and international levels, including a display and exhibition book for the planned Siamese Kingdom Exhibition 1926, which was cancelled due to King Vajiravudh’s death the previous year. In 1930 the family moved back to London where Harrop found teaching appointments with Willesden Polytechnic, the Paddington Art Institute and the Hammersmith School of Building and Arts and Craft. After his retirement in 1952, he launched a late career as a master studio potter that lasted until his death on 26 February 1969. Even in his later pottery works traces of Asian influences and Thai motifs intermingle with traditional English and Mediterranean motifs.

Plates produced for an exhibition book, edited by F. S. Harrop, on the occasion of the planned Siamese Kingdom Exhibition 1926. British Library, FSHA 0704.

A particularly strong sense of hybridity is visible in the commercial work Harrop produced during his time in Bangkok. As an established artist he was approached for various advertising commissions and for designing book covers, specifically for King Vajiravudh’s own publications. Harrop produced designs inspired by traditional Thai motifs, overlaid with an RCA-trained sense of layout, colouring and lettering. Harrop signed hand-drawn designs for printed works and art prints with “F.S. Harrop”, “F. Harrop”, “Harrop”, “FSH”, “FH”, “แฮรัป” (Haerap), “ฮ” (H), as well as “เพาะช่าง” (Pho-Chang) and “พ.ช.” (Pho. Cho., short for Pho-Chang). The latter two, if used as stand-alone signatures (not in combination with Harrop’s other signatures) may have been used for collaborative works with colleagues that involved larger passages of Thai and/or Chinese text, for commercial works that were formally ordered from the School of Arts and Crafts, or prints of photographs by other artists, e.g. as book illustrations.

Left: Front cover design for a magazine “Asia” with blank fields for date and price, c.1920. British Library, FSHA1198; right: front cover design for an exhibition catalogue of the Siam Art Club, c.1920. British Library, FSHA1217. ©William R. Harrop

Among the earlier commercial print designs by Frederick S. Harrop are programmes for events and theatre performances. Some of these are completely in the English language, others completely in Thai, but there are also bilingual Thai and English programmes, depending on which audiences were expected for such events.

Left: Programme front cover for a “Miniature Naval Engagement” at Dusit Park, 1917, print on paper. British Library, GMS310; right: Programme cover for “The Willow Pattern”, an operetta on 21st February 1920 in aid of the Bangkok Nursing Home, print on paper. British Library, FSHA0740. ©William R. Harrop

A significant part of Harrop’s print collection consists of commercial poster designs and printed posters which were commissioned by organisations and enterprises to advertise their products and services. Though often undated, they appear to have been created mainly from 1920 onwards, showing a significant development in Harrop’s artistic and linguistic approach. The earlier designs for programmes were mostly executed in a Western style, possibly because audiences were primarily members of the expatriate community and the Thai elite. The posters, however, were meant to attract the attention of wider, general audiences, and Harrop included traditional Thai patterns as well as bilingual or even trilingual text passages, combining English, Thai and Chinese texts.

Examples of Harrop’s poster designs. Left: design for Solar Eclipse event, dated 9 May 1929. British Library, FSHA1206; right: Poster design for the Red Cross with text in Thai and Chinese, first proof dated B.E. 2568 (1925). British Library, FSHA 1193. ©William R. Harrop

Harrop produced numerous cover designs for a variety of publications, especially books written and translated by King Vajiravudh who was keen to introduce modern, creative book designs of high quality that would help popularise reading as a leisure activity as well as book collecting. Harrop understood that book design had to be adapted to the needs of the emerging Thai book market as more books were produced in the Thai language. Front covers with colourful, extra-ordinary designs and intricate patterns that appealed to the Thai taste aimed to give potential readers an idea of the contents of books, but also to emphasize the high quality of the books and the status of the authors and publishing agencies. Harrop’s book designs often included text, either in one language or multiple languages. By 1922 he had developed a Thai letterform that could be seen as his “signature” letterform as it was used for books featuring his book cover designs, as well as plates and illustrations in books.

Left: Front cover design for “Lilit nitthra chakhrit” by King Chulalongkorn. British Library, FSHA 1722; right: printed front cover of the book “Lilit nitthra chakhrit”, published in 1922. British Library, Siam.200. ©William R. Harrop

Among Harrop’s most impressive commercial designs are some for business calendars that were popular annual gifts for customers. It was a smart way to make business brands visible to customers throughout the year, and lucky symbols or signs of the Thai zodiac were integrated. Harrop created calendars for Buddhist and Chinese calendar systems. The most remarkable designs are Harrop’s Buddhist calendars printed on silk. There are four altogether in the Harrop collection now held in the British Library, each of them combining intricate decorative Thai patterns, stunning letterform designs, painted scenes depicting Buddhist deities, animals of the zodiac, and additional images chosen by the patrons who commissioned the calendars.

Left: Printed calendar on silk for the year B.E. 2465 (1922) and detail on the right. British Library Or 17132/2. ©William R. Harrop

Harrop’s notes, invitations, photographs and handwritten dedications in book gifts indicate that he had contacts with King Vajiravudh (Rama VI), Prince Chakrabongse, Prince Damrong Rajanubhab as well as other European professionals who worked for the Siamese government: French archaeologist and historian George Cœdès (Chief Librarian of the National Library of Thailand), Welsh linguist Herbert Stanley O’Neill (Lecturer of English at Chulalongkorn University), German architect Karl Siegfried Döhring, Swiss artist Michael Rudolph Wening (court sculptor for King Vajiravudh), and possibly also Italian artist Carlo Rigoli and British Vice-Consul in Bangkok, Reginald Le May.

Phra Samut Chedi, Chao Phraya River, Samut Prakan. Oil painting, signed F. S. Harrop, 1929. British Library, FSHA 1362. ©William R. Harrop

Frederick S. Harrop’s collection was given to the British Library in 2023 (books and one manuscript) and 2024 (artworks and archive). It is a collection of great diversity and consists of Harrop’s own artworks and designs, works of students at the School of Arts and Crafts in Bangkok, research materials, books and archival files. 592 photographs, 81 watercolours and 55 oil paintings by Frederick S. Harrop, one watercolour by Edith Harrop, 11 sketchbooks, as well as 153 prints, drawings, blueprints, stencils and printing blocks are now held in the Library’s Visual Art collections. In addition, 38 books and periodicals, one palm leaf manuscript, commercial designs, printed works on silk and paper, drafts for speeches and publications, and numerous other archival files documenting Harrop’s work in Bangkok were added to the Thai collection. These materials will be made accessible (by appointment) in the Library’s Prints and Drawings Room as soon as cataloguing and conservation treatment (where necessary) have been completed.

Jana Igunma (Henry Ginsburg Curator for Thai, Lao and Cambodian) and William R. Harrop (London) 

This is a short version of the full article “Frederick S. Harrop (1887 – 1969) and the modernisation of Thai book and graphic design” in the SEALG Newsletter, Dec. 2024; pp. 87-116.
More posts in the series “Exploring Thai art”:
Exploring Thai art: James Low (published 2016) 
Exploring Thai art: Doris Duke (published 2016)