The summer of 1686 was a tranquil time for Louis XIV. His court was by then permanently settled at Versailles and he had recently entered into a companionable second marriage. Apart from an embarrassing health complaint (one that his courtiers euphemistically located on his thigh), his domestic life was contented and uneventful. It was at this time that an embassy from Siam landed in Brittany with the desire to be presented to the king. The entourage, accompanied by a French escort, made a circuitous journey, passing through the principal towns along the Loire to Orleans, then north to Paris. Along the way, there were visits to the chateaux of Chambord and Fontainebleau, and, in Paris, to the Louvre and Notre Dame. During their sightseeing, the foreigners were themselves an attraction. Crowds gathered wherever they went, and their escorts made note in dispatches of their exotic habits – like bathing. Then came the royal presentation at Versailles. After washing (again), the Siamese ambassadors donned their ceremonial garb to kowtow to the Sun King in the Hall of Mirrors. They made a series of deep, agile bows, prostrated themselves at the king’s feet and remained on their knees for the rest of the audience. It was a spectacular pageant, and decades later, it was still being recalled in painting. The Siamese embassy visit is a familiar episode in the history of decorative arts, due to its influence on chinoiserie. But it is less well known what sort of place the Siamese were returning to. For those curious about the return trip, there is “The Kingdom of Siam: the Art of Central Thailand, 1350-1800,” a big survey exhibition of a little-known region in the history of art. The show was organized by the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco (AAMSF) and is on display at the Peabody Essex Museum through October 16. In an era of highly specialized exhibitions, “The Kingdom of Siam” seems slightly old-fashioned for covering so much ground. One Buddha follows another; there are small, splendid seated Buddhas, 1350-1400, and there are reclining bas-relief Buddhas, circa 1350-1425. This show is a rare opportunity to see Siamese art, the first public viewing in America in more than 30 years. To appreciate the challenges of organizing a show like this,it is worth contemplating the miniscule amount of Siamese art thathas survived. The Burmese invasion in 1767 was an incalculablecatastrophe in its destruction of Siam’s artistic heritage. Whatwas not worth stealing was burned, and the very gilding was meltedoff the largest and least portable statues. “We don’t know what’s gone,” says Forrest McGill, the chief curator at AAMSF, who co-organized the exhibition. “Hundreds and hundreds of works of art and the records and inventories were destroyed.” Also, the tropical climate has been ruinous, especially for textiles and paintings. The buildings themselves have proved no more durable, due to the termites and luxuriant vegetation. Many of the works here on display date from the Fifteenth Century, when Siam emerged as an important regional power. The most significant conquests took place in the 1430s, with Siamese armies successfully invading the Angkor Kingdom to the east and annexing the Sukhotai Kingdom to the north. It was in this period that Wat Ratchaburana, a Buddhist temple, was founded, in part, as a memorial to two rival brothers who were killed in a duel, vying to become king. Wat Ratchaburana was commissioned by the third brother, Borommaracha II, on his accession to the throne. Wat Ratchaburana is representative of other Siamese Buddhist temples. The layout includes a central tower (prang), preaching and ordination halls and memorial towers (stupas), two of which were built in memory of Borommaracha II’s brothers. Like other important religious buildings at this time, Wat Ratchaburana was made of brick and decorated with stucco. Although much of the temple is no longer extant, the impressive central tower still stands – an intact historic structure in a part of the world where so much has simply rotted away. The deterioration of the decoration is, however, made clear by a pediment from a model of the central tower, circa 1424, that shows there was once extensive gilding. Even the model’s finial is gilded. By contrast, a real lead and iron finial, 1400-1700, is bare of any embellishment, though it, too, was probably gilded centuries ago. The central tower was the site of a major archaeological excavation in the 1950s that uncovered a trove of early Siamese art. These works were sealed off in a sacred deposit chamber when the temple was built in 1424. They tend to be small, like the gold plaque with seated Buddha and disciples that shows the Buddha seated under the bodhi tree, or the chest pendant, which is made of gold alloy with rubies and glass gems. Objects like these – twinkling and glimmering in the dim light – suggest what a magical place the temple must have been six centuries ago. They also suggest how some of the other works on display have changed through the centuries. The head of an image of Shiva, circa 1500-1600, was once gilded though little remains, so that the undecorated copper alloy piece is much plainer than it was when first cast. The same goes for the seated crowned and bejeweled Buddha, circa 1630-1650, which was also once gilded. What remains today is a sophisticated work – one that is a testament to the skill of the artist and casting workshop. But with the gilding gone and the jewels pried out, it lacks the eye-catching appeal of the early days. Part of the charm of “The Kingdom of Siam” is that it captures the romance of art history. Nowadays it seems, everything has been docketed and cataloged. There are no new discoveries, only shifting attributions. But to hear McGill recount his experiences out in the tropics, the scholar endured sufferings that are more acute – or at least, more backbreaking – than in the modern climate-controlled museum. During a research trip to Thailand early in his career, for example, McGill had to hack away at the fronds and vines to gain access to a temple. One of the works first discovered during that expedition isfeatured in the show. The large stone head of Buddha, which wasonce part of colossal statue more than 20 feet high, was spotted byMcGill leaning against a wall of a historic Fourteenth Centurytemple. During the reign of Borommatrailokkanat, 1448-1488 (Borommaracha II’s successor), there was a blossoming of the arts. One significant royal commission was the approximately 500 sculptures that were made to commemorate the 2,000th anniversary of the Buddha’s death. Among the six of those Buddha images in the show, two suggest the influence of Angkor with their elaborate crowns decorated in relief, and another suggests the influence of Sukhothai with its simple engraved crown. The obvious conclusion is that Siamese art was fragmented into regional styles. At the same time, foreign craftsmen had probably been brought to Siam as part of the victory spoils of Siam’s many conquests. The names of artists, or even workshops, are missing, though, due to the absence of documentation related to royal art patronage. By the Seventeenth Century, Siam was trading with many countries, mostly in Asia, but also in Europe. Despite the economic importance of trade, the Siamese were never adept sailors, but instead relied on foreigners to transport goods. Their most desirable exports seem to have been natural resources. For the Europeans, this meant animal skins, ivory and the hardwoods that were harvested in the vast hinterlands in the north of the kingdom. For the Japanese, stingray skins were an important Siamese import, and for the Indians, elephants. In return, the Siamese imported many luxury objects for their own use and for trading in other parts of Asia. Significantly, most of the gifts to Louis XIV from the Siamese ambassadors were first imported to Siam from places like Japan, China and India. Siam was a sufficiently important market for the Indian and Iranian textile weavers to make specially adapted designs. Many of these fabrics are believed to have been used for decorating interiors, not for clothing; hence, the dyed cotton from India in a diamond and cross-shaped pattern, which was probably used as a curtain or wall hanging. Another textile design, a diamond and roundel patterned silk with metallic yarns from Persia, 1700-1750, was possibly woven to cover a royal throne platform. In contrast with these abstract motifs, there were figurative patterns, like the dyed cotton with alternating celestials and bird-women, 1750-1800, which was made in India for the Siamese market. Foreign textile designs influenced Siamese furniture designers. The manuscript cabinet, 1650-1750, which was made of lacquered and gilded wood, has a trellis pattern that was adapted from a traditional pattern of Indian cotton. The trellis part of the design is decorated with foliage and inside each diamond is a seated celestial. This is a rare piece, though, as always, it is difficult to determine how unusual it was when first made. This exhibition is well worth a visit. It is McGill’s hope that visitors “will gain awareness and admiration for the extraordinary artistic and cultural triumphs of this little-known kingdom.” The Peabody Essex Museum is at East India Square. For information, 978-745-9500 or www.pem.org.