"Weeping Caryatids": An impressive mural by the artist INO in Monastiraki
A new
impressive mural by the artist INO adorns a building in Ermou in Monastiraki,
entitled: "Weeping Caryatids".
"Weeping Caryatids": An impressive mural by the artist INO in Monastiraki
A new
impressive mural by the artist INO adorns a building in Ermou in Monastiraki,
entitled: "Weeping Caryatids".
IT was gridlock in the British Museum the other morning as South African teenagers, Japanese businessmen toting Harrods bags, and a busload of German tourists — the usual crane-necked, camera-flashing babel of visitors — formed scrums before the Rosetta Stone, which Egyptian authorities just lately have again demanded that Britain return to Egypt. From the Egyptian rooms the crowds shuffled past the Assyrian gates from Balawat (Iraq is another country pleading for lost antiquities) and past the Roman statue of the crouching Aphrodite (ditto Italy), then headed toward the galleries containing what are known in Britain as the Elgin marbles (but in Greece as the Parthenon marbles, or simply booty), where passers-by plucked pamphlets from a rack.
The British Museum is Europe’s Western front in the global war over cultural patrimony, on account of the marbles. The pamphlets give the museum’s version for why they should stay in Britain, as they have for two centuries — ever since Lord Elgin, the British ambassador to the Sublime Porte at Constantinople, and with the consent of the ruling Ottomans (not to mention a blithe disregard for whatever may have been the wishes of the Greek populace), spirited them from the Acropolis in Athens. The pamphlet stresses that the British Museum is free and attracts millions of visitors every year from around the world, making the sculptures available to, and putting them in the context of, a wide swath of human civilization.
For their part the Greeks, before their economy collapsed, finally opened the long-delayed New Acropolis Museum last year to much fanfare: it’s an up-to-date facility, forbidding and frankly ugly outside, but airy and light-filled inside, a home-in-waiting for the marbles, whose absence is clearly advertised by bone-white plaster casts of what Elgin took, alongside yellowed originals that he left behind. The view through a broad picture window, eloquent but baleful under the circumstances, looks onto the ruined Parthenon, playing on visitors’ heartstrings. Greeks deem the museum a slam-dunk argument for the marbles’ return.
It’s definitely compelling.
But the British still make the better case.
Siding with the imperialists drives good people bonkers, I know. It’s akin to Yankees worship, with the Greeks playing the underdog role of the old Red Sox. That said, patrimony claims too often serve merely nationalist ends these days, no less often than they do decent ones, never mind that the archaeological and legal arguments by the Greeks, while elaborately reasoned and passionately felt, don’t finally trump the British ones.
Mostly, though, the issue comes down to the fact that culture, while it can have deeply rooted, special meanings to specific people, doesn’t belong to anyone in the grand scheme of things. It doesn’t stand still. When Walter Benjamin wrote in the last century about the original or authentic work of art losing its aura, he was in part suggesting that the past is not something we can just return to whenever we like — it’s not something fixed and always available. It’s something forever beyond our grasp, which we must reinvent to make present.
Today’s Acropolis is itself a kind of fiction. Over the centuries and through succeeding empires and regimes, it became Christian and Turkish, and briefly Venetian, after it had been Roman. The Parthenon was a pagan temple, a church, a mosque, an arms depot (disastrously, under the Turks) and even a place from which the Nazis hung a big swastika flag whose removal by Greek patriots helped spur a resistance movement. Modernity has mostly stripped the site of all those layers of history to recover a Periclean-era past that represents, because it has come to mean the most to us, its supposed true self — a process of archeological excavation, based on another modern kind of fiction about historical and scientific objectivity that inevitably adds its own layer of history.
One of the paradoxes of the marbles debate is that it was precisely their removal to London, and all the anguish and furor and archaeological interest and study this provoked, starting with Hellenophiles like Lord Byron heaping scorn on Elgin and fellow Britons, that helped galvanize the Greeks’ own sense of national identity and their pride in the Parthenon sculptures. Now the Greek government has even chosen to name its consolidation plan to combat the economic collapse after an architect of the Parthenon, Kallikrates.
But the general question, looting and tourist dollars aside, is why should any objects necessarily reside in the modern nation-state controlling the plot of land where, at one time, perhaps thousands of years earlier, they came from? The question goes to the heart of how culture operates in a global age.
The Greek proposal that Britain fork over Elgin’s treasures has never involved actually putting the sculptures back onto the Parthenon, which started crumbling long before he showed up. The marbles would go from one museum into another, albeit one much closer. The Greeks argue for proximity, not authenticity. Their case has always been more abstract, not strictly about restoration but about historical reparations, pride and justice. It is more nationalistic and symbolic.
Over the centuries, meanwhile, bits and pieces of the Parthenon have ended up in six different countries, in the way that countless altars and other works of art have been split up and dispersed among private collectors and museums here and there. To the Greeks the Parthenon marbles may be a singular cause, but they’re like plenty of other works that have been broken up and disseminated. The effect of this vandalism on the education and enlightenment of people in all the various places where the dismembered works have landed has been in many ways democratizing.
That’s not an excuse for looting. It’s simply to recognize that art, differently presented, abridged, whatever, can speak in myriad contexts. It’s resilient and spreads knowledge and sympathy across borders. Ripped from its origins, it loses one set of meanings, to gain others.
Laws today fortunately prevent pillaging sites like the Acropolis. But they stop short of demanding that every chopped-up altar by Rubens, Fra Angelico or whomever now be pieced together and returned to the churches and families and institutions for which they were first intended. For better and worse, history moves on.
The Elgin marbles, from the cultural crossroads of imperial London, reshaped cultural history over the course of the last 200 years by giving rise to neo-Classicism around the globe. Or perhaps it is more precise to say that the Parthenon marbles, by virtue of their presence both in Athens and London, helped spread that movement along with sympathy for the Greeks’ cause.
Americans, excepting Indians, may find this whole issue hard to grasp. We don’t tend to think in terms of American cultural patrimony, save perhaps for the Liberty Bell or the Brooklyn Bridge, because we’re an immigrant nation worshipful of the free market. Demanding the return of American art and artifacts to America sounds, well, un-American, not to mention bad for the bottom line. We are too diverse in our roots, too focused on the present, too historically amnesiac and individualistic (not to mention rich) to worry overly about a collective culture or who might own it.
And in the end patrimony is about ownership, often of objects that as in the marbles’ case, come from bygone civilizations. What, in this context, does it really mean to own culture?
Italy recently celebrated the return of a national treasure after the Metropolitan Museum gave back a sixth-century B.C. Greek krater by the painter Euphronius that tomb robbers dug up outside Rome during the 1970s. Stolen property is stolen property. But how curious that an ancient Greek vase, which centuries after it was made came into the possession of an Etruscan collector (a kind of ancient Elgin) living on what is now the outskirts of Rome, and then ended up buried for thousands of years below what became modern Italy, is today Italian cultural patrimony. By that definition, Elgin’s loot is arguably British patrimony.
It’s not coincidental that conflicts over patrimony have accelerated in recent decades thanks to globalizing trends: the increasing circulation of information along with objects and money — consequences of the Web, jet travel and mass tourism — and the evolution of institutions like the British Museum from sleepy, scholarly repositories of artifacts into entertainment palaces and virtual town squares. Authorities in countries like Greece, having seen the escalating economic and symbolic value of works like the marbles, have naturally sought to take advantage.
It isn’t to belittle a deep-seated connection to such works to point out that claimants to far-flung patrimony may have various motives. When Zahi Hawass, Egypt’s chief archaeologist, who made the recent fuss about the Rosetta Stone, also demanded that Germany hand over Nerfertiti, the 3,500-year-old bust of Akhenaten’s wife, he chose the moment when the Neues Museum in Berlin opened with the bust as its main attraction.
This was just after Farouk Hosny, Egypt’s candidate to run Unesco, the United Nations cultural agency, was defeated in a vote that Egyptian leaders considered a diplomatic slap. Mr. Hawass used Egypt’s only real weapon on the international stage, its cultural patrimony, to lash out by proxy at the perceived enemies of Mr. Hosny’s candidacy and pander to the wounded egos of Egypt’s ruling elite.
It was a public relations gambit. Practically speaking, Egypt had to know there was no immediate shot at getting Nerfertiti back. The sculpture served in a passing form of political theater common these days, with Egypt playing plucky David to the West’s Goliath.
Patrimony debates often end up in this moral fog of shifting geopolitics. The world was outraged when the National Museum in Iraq was looted after the war there started. But almost nobody (outside Germany, anyway) cares today whether Russia returns storerooms of treasures it stole at the end of World War II. Nigeria holds the moral high ground in demanding the return of sculptures burgled from that country’s beleaguered museums, even though insiders were often complicit in the crimes.
And after the Taliban destroyed a Buddhist temple and burned centuries-old illuminated manuscripts, hardly anybody outside the country blinked when Unesco refused to authorize shipments of artifacts from Afghanistan to Switzerland because the move violated international rules against the removal of “national patrimony” — and also because nobody was really paying much attention to that region yet.
Then Taliban inspectors pulverized priceless treasures before the eyes of helpless Afghan curators and blew up the Bamiyan Buddhas in obedience to Mullah Omar’s edict against the existence of pre-Islamic art. Only then did people in the West wake up and Unesco reconsider its position. Too late.
In the Parthenon’s case the Greek actress Melina Mercouri kicked off the modern repatriation push during the 1980s as part of the nationalist program of a Greek leader, Andreas Papandreou, whose slogan was “Greece for the Greeks.” What started in conjunction with a political campaign then evolved into a genuine street movement. Dimitris Pandermalis, the New Acropolis Museum’s director, told me before the museum opened last year that the Elgin marbles’ return “unifies us,” meaning the Greek people, although surveys show that few of them actually bother to visit the Acropolis after grade school, while antique sites rivaling the Parthenon in archaeological significance often go neglected across Greece. As I said, it’s ultimately about nationalism and symbolism.
So be it. That’s why Greek authorities always decline diplomatic solutions like sharing the marbles or asking for their loan. They assume any loan request would legitimize Britain’s ownership. The principle is high minded. What results is, in effect, nothing, which doesn’t diminish the Greeks’ connection with the missing marbles.
But as the Princeton philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah has cautioned about the whole patrimony question: “We should remind ourselves of other connections. One connection — the one neglected in talk of cultural patrimony — is the connection not through identity but despite difference.”
What he means is that people make connections across cultures through objects like the marbles. These objects can become handmaidens for ideologues, instruments for social division and tools of the economy, or cicerones through history and oracles to a more perfect union of nations. Art is something made in a particular place by particular people, and may serve a particular function at one time but obtain different meanings at other times. It summons distinct feelings to those for whom it’s local, but ultimately belongs to everyone and to no one.
We’re all custodians of global culture for posterity.
Neither today’s Greeks nor Britons own the Parthenon marbles, really.
The New York Times, 09.05.2010
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COMMENT:
These dead, the anonymous, simple inhabitants of Athens, who did not enjoy the care of their dearest and nearest, the polis collected them and buried them. They are the ones who, abandoned, lie dead on the streets and in the sanctuaries. The city decides to make a public funeral, quickly and in a cursory manner, at the edge of the main cemetery, at Kerameikos. A burial which, maybe for the first time, did not aim at honouring the dead, but at the protection of public health".
An archaeological presentation does not usually provoke emotions, as it speaks of things belonging to the distant past. However, the presentation by Efi Baziotopoulou-Valavani at the Archaeological Society of Athens contained many touching descriptions of the so-called "Plague Grave" which was uncovered at the Kerameikos.
The ancient texts, combined with modern archaeological techniques and ground breaking interdisciplinary methods, gave the dating and the explanation for the grave that was found on the edge of the ancient cemetery by mrs Baziotopoulou-Valavani and mrs Drakotou-Tsirigoti. It is a grave for the dead of the plague that struck Athens during the early years of the Peloponnesian War. A scientific team including Manolis Papagrigorakis, Philippos Synodinos and Christos Giapitzakis, examined the teeth of the deceased and discovered that typhoid fever was a cause of the plague of Athens, either exclusively or combined with another, still unknown, epidemic element.
"The first burials appeared on the eastern arc of the pit at a depth of 4.30 meters. Immediately below these, with no interposed earth, a second layer of dead was found, with no certain orientation. The discovery of stacked layers of dead continued, with the bodies buried randomly, with a tendency to be placed in the centre of the pit towards the edges. It is interesting that 8 burials in vases with no offerings of infants were placed among the dead of the uppermost layer? These small children were buried as in vases, covered with large bits of unpainted amphoras, a burial practice that differentiated them from the rest of the dead".
"The last speletons followed the outline of the pit, and covered every empty space, so that some were placed in a slanting position, almost standing or bent over" said mrs. Baziotopoulou-Valavani. "It is probable that in the centre the dead were stacked one on top of the other, creating a human hill, which was, of course covered by a mound of earth. The burial of an estimated 130-150 men, women and children was completed with cursory funeral honours".
The grave goods of this mass grave are few compared with the number of the dead, appraximately 30. Among them part of a chous , a usual offering for infant burials, with a representation of a child sitting in a little cart. The face of the little driver has deep eyes, a pronounced nose and a strong chin. A second chous bears the original scene of two children playing, holding straps, at the end of which a ball-like object is tied. The children probably swirled the strap to launch the ball to a distance. Two small matleser dogs at the bottom of the scene, participate in the game.
15 white lekythoi were found in the mass grave.
Source: Angeliki Kotti, Ethnos, 02.03.2010.
akotti@pegasus.gr
A building monstrosity in the middle of the
Giorgos Lialios
An archaeological park that includes an office building of 20.000 sq. m. is being pushed forward by the ministries of Environment and Culture in the region of Plato’s Academy in
As it seems, each of the (very few) city planning interventions of the state in
View of the archaeological site of Plato's Academy (from: Wikipedia)
The building permit for the building monstrosity was granted in 2008, without having an approved study of its environmental consequences. This was handled by the Special Service of Environment of the Ministry of the same name, which, as is its custom, gave a positive report. The final decision is now in the hands of the Minister, mrs. Tina Birbili, who, according to information had originally considered the possibility of freezing of construction over an area of 56 city blocks in the region (a move which would give the ministry the time to move on the matter). The minister, however, does not look like being ready to go against these particular business interests. The stance of the new Minister of Culture, mr. Pavlos Geroulanos, remains a mystery, as do the plans of the ministry about incorporating this building monstrosity into the archaeological project…
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Press Release of the Ministry of Environment and Energy
The Ministry of Environment and Energy decided the freezing of the Construction permits in the region to the North of Elaionas of the municipality of Athens and more specifically in the region of the archaeological forest of the Academy of Plato. This region, covering approximately 55 building blocks, was put under a regime of frozen building permits for one year, after relative proposals of the year 2009 of the Municipal Council of the City of Athens, aiming at the reform of the relative City Plan for the reforming and orthological use of this area of great importance for the City of Athens.
Source: http://akadimia-platonos.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post_23.html
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Sources : Kathimerini, 16.03.2010
See also: Eleutherotypia, 24.03.2010
Plato's Academy Regional Association
An asterisk (*) marks original posts. A (T) marks a translation. A (C) marks a text from a different text with and ArchaeologyMatters Comment
An asterisk (*) marks original posts. A (T) marks a translation. A (C) marks a text from a different text with and ArchaeologyMatters Comment
No original photos yet. But some great sites relative to this unique architectural masterpiece!
OVERVIEWS:
The Parthenon Frieze: http://www.parthenonfrieze.gr Great educational site with all the frieze of the Parthenon in interactive photographic reproduction and tones of games and activities for the younger archaeologist!
East Pediment: Check Perseus, Parthenon East Pediment Page
West Pediment: Check Perseus, Parthenon West Pediment Page