The Parthenon

[[The Parthenon]]

The Parthenon is one of the most famous buildings in the world. It was built circa 447-438 BC in Athens, and once housed a 12m tall statue of the patron goddess, Athena Parthenos.

It looks like it's in ruins today (and it is), but considering what it's been through - vandalism by Christians (who regarded some of the decorative images as pagan), a gunpowder explosion (when it was used to store ammunition), and the removal of its statues by Lord Elgin, it's actually in pretty good shape!

Many of the marbles, for example the metopes and pedimental figures, are in the British Museum. Some are in Athens, in the Acropolis Museum, which is well worth a visit.

Today tourists are often disappointed by the fact that the Parthenon is covered in scaffolding, as it is in this picture.

The scaffolding is due to the restoration and preservation of the remaining structure, and due to the painstaking nature of such work, the scaffolding is likely to be there for a long time to come.

Yet this is no reason to despair. The restoration of the Parthenon is one more element in its 2000 year history, and by having the scaffolding in their pictures, tourists automatically give the Parthenon a context within their photo albums. The scaffolding, in its own way, is part of the Parthenon's story.

Touching the 'Rosetta Stone'

[[Enlightenment Room]]

Pretty much everyone's heard of the Rosetta Stone - it's tied up with learning about hieroglyphics, Egypt and even gives its name to some language learning software.

So naturally, the Rosetta Stone is extremely popular with visitors to the British Museum, where it's displayed in Room 4 inside a glass case.

But there's a slight problem in this.

Go to Room 4 when the Museum is busy - try weekends and school holidays - and you'll find, if you haven't already, that it's nigh on impossible to get even close to the case! Everyone wants a photo, and everyone's photo ends up being 10% Stone, 30% camera flashes off the glass case, and 60% other peoples' backs!

Of course, it's kind of great. It adds to the atmosphere, and whilst museums can be seen as stuffy, nerdy places, the very enthusiasm of fellow visitors is highly enjoyable.

But what if you want to see the darn Stone?

Purists might disagree, but I think the replica (in the 'Enlightenment Room', aka Room 1, the big hall which looks like it should really be in the house of a country aristocrat) is great here. It displays the Rosetta Stone as it was originally displayed, and as you can tell from my photo, almost no one goes near it! There is even a sign telling people to 'Please Touch' - something obviously not advised for the real Stone, unless your hands can penetrate glass or something. (And leave no fingerprints on historical artefacts........)

This is not a replacement for the real Stone, naturally, but after the bustle of Room 4, it is well worth venturing to look at this charming replica - and hey, if you really wanted to, there's even enough room to stand next to it and take that all-important selfie.............

What not to do at a wedding

[[Parthenon Metope 27]]

This slab once decorated the south side of the Parthenon on the Athenian Acropolis. It now lives in the British Museum, Lord Elgin having removed them (his permission to do so is disputed) during the early 19th century.

The metope (some pronounce it 'met - ohpe', but others say 'met - oh - pee') is carved in deep relief, giving the impression that the figures are almost floating in front of the slab. This is enhanced by the figures breaking the frame of the metope - see the human figure slumped, almost as if to fall out of the frame. Of course, after 2000 years or so this artistic virtuosity has meant that details such as the heads, hands and any bronze attachments have broken off.

The story is that of the Lapiths (humans, i.e. civilised Greeks) and the Centaurs (barbarians, i.e. anyone non-Greek, especially the Persians). The Lapiths courteously invited the half-human, half-horse creatures to a wedding. Centaurs, like that uncle everyone has, are partial to a drink or seven. However, hopefully unlike anyone's relatives, they took their misdemeanours to a whole new level. Instead of displaying shameful 'dancing' or shouting out inappropriate gossip, they tried to carry off the bride.

Don't try that at home.

So naturally, it descended into a brawl. The centaurs grabbed the tableware and fought; as you can see from this metope, they were sometimes successful. The Lapiths also won too, and there are examples of triumphant Lapiths with wounded centaurs on other metopes.

Unusually, despite the Athenian society which built the Parthenon naturally favouring the Lapiths, they are not shown winning outright. This gives the impression of a far more dangerous and important struggle - in a society where warfare was common, and foreign threat very real indeed, it is understandable that the sculptors could see themselves losing from time to time, and reflected this in their architecture.

Oh, and as you can see from this example, the fight still isn't over. This must hold the record for longest wedding brawl in the world.

And you thought you were carrying a heavy load...

[[Caryatids]]

 It's okay, these aren't real women :) I'm sure that would be against health and safety laws or something.

These are caryatids, stone columns shaped in the form of young women, which hold up the roof of the north porch, hiding a supporting beam.

Each one is individualised, with slight variations in hair and drapery.

The question might be asked, why make them in stone? Surely bronze would replicate the look of skin better? Well, as scholars such as Neer have pointed out, a bronze column would actually bend under the weight of the roof.

Not all the caryatids are there. I've blogged previously about the one in the British Museum - it is said that when she was removed, the other caryatids could be heard wailing for their lost sister. Eerie.

Sticking out your tongue - Gorgon Style

[[Gorgon]]
Pretty much everyone knows the story of Perseus and the Gorgon. The Gorgon, called Medusa, had snakes for hair, and the rather convenient power of turning any man she looked at into stone (she'd presumably never run out of ideas for garden gnomes then). Perseus managed to kill Medusa by watching her in the reflection of his shield - that way, he could see where to thrust his sword, but not get petrified.

So as Medusa is a snake-haired, man-petrifying monster with her tongue protruding, you might wonder why on earth I'm featuring her on this blog for beautiful things.

It's because of the pathos which is shown by the sculpture. This figure of Medusa was part of the west pediment at the Temple of Artemis at Corcyra, from around 580BC. She is shown (out of the frame of this picture) running sideways, on her knees. There were originally figures of her two children, Chrysaor and Pegasus (yup. The winged horse) exploding from her cut neck. As she still has her neck in one piece here, this tells us that the sculptor has chosen to portray this myth synoptically, that is, all at one go rather than in separate frames.

So in one moment, this disgusting monster is killed (whoops of celebration), yet she becomes a mother to two beautiful children. It is this simultaneity of contrasting emotion which makes this pediment a success.

This photo is actually of a plaster cast in the Cambridge Cast Gallery - the original, being in the Corfu Museum, is rather too far away to photograph!

You'll never be happy with your jewellery box again.

[[Pyxis]]

This charming little container dates from around the late Geometric period. It shows a series of detailed patterns around the bowl, more lines and criss-crosses on the lid, and on top, four horses.

Naturally, as with many objects from antiquity, dating and usage is uncertain. Judging from the style, it was probably made in the 8th century BC, since there is a strong emphasis on geometric patterns rather than drawings of animals that became common later.

Of course, one of the main visual appeals of this piece are the four horses on top of the pyxis, which function both as an ornament and a lid handle. They tell us about the owner of the piece and their interests: horses were expensive to keep, then as now, and so the only people who could afford them would be the aristocracy. Think of the warriors in Homer's Iliad : the greatest ones are often also princes, and ride in chariots. Horses were thus a sign of prestige in the ancient world.

This particular one can be seen in the British Museum; turn left as you walk in, go through the Cycladic art section, then turn right into the Greek art section. This little pot is on one of the lower shelves.

A Bride of Hades

[[Phrasikleia]]

This statue, slightly over life-size, is the grave marker of a young woman who died in Ancient Greece before her wedding day.

The inscription says she will 'always be called kore', which means maiden, since she would remain a virgin forever.

This statue, like many statues from Ancient Greece, was originally painted; she had patterns on her dress, and her jewellery was picked out in yellow and gold.

She was found in a pit along with a statue of a male, and although some people have suggested the two statues were made by the same sculptor, this is just speculation.

Her inscription also says the statue is the sema, or sign, of Phrasikleia. Yet it looks so life-like: is the statue a reminder of her absence from this world, or an attempt to conjure up her presence?

The ambiguity is probably never meant to be solved.

Who's A Pretty Girl Then?

[[Sappho the Budgie]]

She's out of her cage; it's a brand new day!

Sappho enjoys playing with the bell in her cage, eating millet and sitting on my finger. I bought her over a year ago, since in the pet shop she kept coming up to us - how could I say no?

Admittedly, we've had our ups and downs; she doesn't really understand that when I turn on the television, it's because I want to listen to what's on the news, and not give her some noise to join in on. Then there's the time when she decided to play with my, and did so by giving me some playful pecks that were really rather quite painful.

But still, she is beautiful, and never fails to cheer me up (even when she's grumpy in the evenings).

So, I'm glad you've all met Sappho (she's named after a famous Greek poetess), and if you hear any loud tweeting noises the next time you're watching The Lunchtime News, you'll know where they're coming from.

A Cute Dog Abroad!

[[Acropolis Dog]]

There are so many stray dogs wandering round in Athens! From the tiny mongrels to large, direwolf-like cuddlies, they roam around like exasperated tourist guides.

This beautiful one was sitting on the steps of the Propylaea, the gateway to the Acropolis, completely oblivious to our tour group. I have a feeling that this dog knew more about Ancient Greek civilisation than we did; it's a pity s/he never spoke English!

Her (or his. Obviously I didn't check.....) fur was a warm brownish red, which glowed orange under the brightness of the sun. I think she knew how great she looked!

Our tour group had to resist the urge to give her a stroke - after all, we didn't know her temperament and opinion of tourists. Perhaps it was best that we left her alone - to guard the Acropolis, single-pawedly.

A Timeless Landscape

[[Athenian Acropolis]]

Last year I went with a group of friends to Greece - the weather was wonderful most days (there were a few downpours but, having come from London, I go nowhere without an umbrella so was prepared), and we saw some of the world's most famous antiquities up close and in person.

That not to overlook the landscape. This is a photo I took, looking up towards the Athenian Acropolis. I think the temple-like structure is the Propylaea, or gateway, though to be honest I can't quite remember from which angle I took this photo - I took so many!

But the sky was clear, the trees were a natural photoframe, and the Acropolis itself, with its sun-warmed stonework, complemented its surroundings perfectly.

The only pity was that my camera was old and very, very shaky - if I ever go back to Greece I'll take a better camera, all the better to capture more memories!

Ancient or Modern?

[[Cycladic figurine]]

When you first see this, when would you think this was made?

It looks like something one might find in the Tate Modern; Henry Moore seems a likely culprit.

But in fact, this was made around 2500BC!

So naturally, this lady is in the British Museum. Over 4000 years old and she hasn't a wrinkle.

These figurines were originally highly painted, although no one knows exactly how the paint would have looked.

As is usual in museums, the figure is shown standing up, but they actually can't do so without the stands the museums equip them with. A more natural pose would have been for them to lie down.

So what would this mean? Were they meant to lie as grave goods? Dolls? Or some religious function that's been forgotten?

Whatever their function, this is one style that hasn't gone out of date.

A Hairstyle Set in Stone

[[Caryatid]]

In the British Museum, nestled amongst other treasures of the world, stands a lone column. Yet there is something distinctly odd about this one - it's shaped like a young woman.

This is one of the famous caryatids from the Erechtheum temple on the Athenian Acropolis, which was built during the 5th century BC.

Columns in Ancient Greece typically had 'fluting' - the lines down the column. Here, they are replaced by the folds of her drapery. Similarly, the tops of the columns, 'capitals' take the form of an ornamental basket-style design on the maiden's head.

This photo is taken from the back, so that you can see a detail often unnoticed: each of the caryatids is slightly personalised, even in terms of their hairstyle.

The maiden in the British Museum has waving hair, gently pulled back. Her hair is thick, not only for reasons of aesthetics, but because the extra bulk would have helped stabilise the weight of the roof.

She is a marvel of both engineering and fashion, creating a surreal effect - standing at the Erechtheum century after century, supporting a work of art whilst being one herself.

The Tree of Life?

[[Directions and Lives]]

This tree by the Athenian Acropolis symbolises to me a question which we all ask at some point:

'Where am I going'?

The roots are firmly planted in the soil, yet the trunk goes in two different directions. They are like the paths which we can take within our careers, or the choices we make without necessarily being conscious of having made them.

One path certainly looks better than the other: it's thicker; more full of life.

Yet notice that the foliage at the top is evenly spread between the two trunks, and looks equally luscious no matter which side:

You may be forced to turn into a path you'd rather not go down, but you'll get there in the end.

A Striking Sculpture of Laocoon

[[Laocoon]]

This cast is of a 1st century AD Roman copy of a Hellenistic original sculpture (geddit? It's a copy of a copy), and it lives in the Cast Gallery in Cambridge.

The older man in the middle is Laocoon, and the two young ones are his children. Here's the story.

Laocoon was a priest. During the Trojan War, towards the end, he saw the Wooden Horse about to be brought in. He warned the Trojans not to accept it, but did they listen?

Of course not.

However, as the gods were supporting the Greeks (who gave this deceptive gift), they sent snakes to kill him and his sons.

This sculpture shows the desperate, futile struggle as Laocoon and his sons attempt to fend off the snake.

What's amazing about this sculpture is the sheer intensity of it. Laocoon's head is tilted back; he looks forlorn, and yet towards the sky, as if to ask, 'Why?'. His sons turn towards their father, who is helpless, and the children themselves are ensnared.

The viewer feels helpless - the snake is so closely entwined with the three bodies that there is nowhere which we can grab onto, and the dynamic pose of the figures tells us we do not have time to run for help.

This is more than a freezeframe- the figures seem to be struggling before our eyes, even though we know they're not real.

The Laocoon group is thus a triumph of both emotion and motion.