Byzantine Bronze Horse Harness Boss Pendant

Hollow-formed, decorated with a central filigree band from which granulated triangles radiate, alternating with filigree circular motifs; piercing occluded. 2.12 grams, 12 mm



From the property of late Mr SM, London, UK, 1969-1999.

Comprising: a cruciform pendant with notching to each arm and integral suspension loop; a finial crowned with an angel or seraphim. 21.83 grams total, 31-57 mm



Ex old English collection. London art market, 1980s.

Flat-section ring with nine round holes and attachment fittings for three substantial chains with suspension hook, forming a polycandelon chandelier with multiple candles. 1.52 kg, 68 cm hanging height



Ex Surrey, UK, collection of a gentleman, 1960-2000s. This lot has been checked against the Interpol Database of stolen works of art and is accompanied by a search certificate number no.12111-217545.

In 563 AD, Paul the Silentiary visited Hagia Sophia in Constantinople and described the wondrous lighting effects, ‘Thus is everything clothed in beauty…no words are sufficient to describe the illumination in the evening: you might say that some nocturnal sun filled the majestic church with light.’ The church was lit by polycandela, an early type of candelabra that held glass oil lamps rather than candles. The lamps were either conical or shaped like round bowls with an elongated stem attached beneath. An effective and very atmospheric source of lighting, polycandela required considerable skill in casting and glasswork. Amidst the burning of incense and the chanting of prayers, the flickering light must have helped to inspire pious devotion. Contemporaries certainly attest to this feeling and among the surviving accounts, that of Arculf, Bishop of Gaul, is particularly affecting. In 670 he went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and visited the Church of the Ascension, ‘…to the customary light of the eight lamps…on the night of the feast of the Lord’s Ascension it is usual to add innumerable other lamps; and under the terrible and wondrous gleaming of these, pouring out copiously through the shutters of the windows, all Mount Olivet seems not alone to be illuminated, but even to be on fire, and the whole city, situated on the lower ground nearby, seems to be lit up.’