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.