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Cycladic Statue of a Female Figurine – Coloring the Past (71)


Tinted Venus – Painted Aphrodite – Coloring the Past (72)

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Tinted Venus by John Gibson, 1862
Tinted Venus by John Gibson, 1862, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool

Many sculptural works from the ancient world were once beautifully colored. This is an excerpt of my gallery talk “Coloring the Past” in the Art Institute of Chicago from March 9, 2017. Here we discuss the original polychromy of the famous Aphrodite of Knidos by Praxiteles and the 1862 Tinted Venus by English sculptor John Gibson.

This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents of noisy kids, beeping proximity alarms, and echoing reverb. Please forgive the poor sound quality.

Zeuxis and Parrhasius, Pliny the Elder, Roman Painting – Coloring the Past (73)

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Trompe-l'Oeil Still Life with a Flower Garland and a Curtain
Adriaen van der Spelt and Frans van Mieris, Trompe-l’Oeil Still Life with a Flower Garland and a Curtain, 1658, Art Institute of Chicago (1949.585)

Pliny the Elder shares with us the tale of dueling artists Zeuxis and Parrhasius as they battled for the title of who could paint a more beguilingly realistic trompe-l’oeil (“fools the eye”) masterpiece. We also hear another short story of Zeuxis’s dashed pride.

This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents of noisy kids, beeping proximity alarms, and echoing reverb. Please forgive the poor sound quality.

Etruscan Gigantomachy, Gods vs Giants – Coloring the Past (74)

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Etruscan Relief Showing the Battle Between Gods and Giants
Battle Between Gods and Giants, Etruscan, Art Institute of Chicago

We examine the use of color in ancient art to designate role, status, nature, and more, and discuss causes for the disappearance of polychromy in ancient art.

Side note: Why does the Egyptian God Osiris sometimes appear with black skin and sometimes with green skin?

Names dropped: Zeus, Athena, Olympians, Giants, Gaia, Osiris

This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents of noisy kids, beeping proximity alarms, and echoing reverb. Please forgive the poor sound quality.

Chinese Tang Funerary Figurines – Coloring the Past (75)

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Armored Guardian King (Tianwang) Trampling Demon, China, Tang dynasty (AD 618–907), First half of 8th century, Earthenware, glaze, and pigment Art Institute of Chicago, 1970.1069
Armored Guardian King (Tianwang) Trampling Demon, China, Tang dynasty (AD 618–907), Art Institute of Chicago

Why are the heads, crowns, and hands of magnificent Tang Dynasty Chinese tomb figurines so startlingly bare compared to their brilliantly colored bodies? This is an excerpt from my gallery talk “Coloring the Past” in the Art Institute of Chicago from March 9, 2017. This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents of background chatter, beeping proximity alarms, and echoing reverb. Please forgive the poor sound quality.

Black Figure vs Red Figure Ancient Greek Vase Painting Techniques (76)

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Side-by-side comparison of ancient Greek black figure and red figure painted vases, Art Institute of Chicago
Athenian Black-figure Belly-Amphora (Storage Jar) Showing Herakles Wrestling the Nemean Lion, c. 550-540 B.C., Art Institute of Chicago (1978.114); Athenian Hydria (Water Jar), c. 470/460 B.C., Art Institute of Chicago (1911.456)

In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I discuss the techniques of Greek vase painting and the differences between the black-figure and red-figure styles. We also dip a toe into some Greek history, talk about the names of Greek vase painters, artists signing their works, and compare Greek vase painters to the French Impressionists. This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents including background chatter, construction noises, and beeping proximity alarms. Note, the black-figure base pictured is different from the one I discuss during the tour. The red-figure vase is the same.

African Congo Kuba Mukenga Mask – Meaningful Materials (77)

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Mask (Mukenga), Kuba, Western Kasai region, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Art Institute of Chicago, 1982.1504
Mask (Mukenga), Kuba, Western Kasai region, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Art Institute of Chicago

How do artists’ choices of materials assign identity and meaning to works of art? How does meaning assign material? In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I explore the meaningful materials in an African Congolese ceremonial mask of the Kuba Kingdom. This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents including background chatter and beeping proximity alarms.

Nkisi Nkondi Power Figure – Meaningful Materials (78)

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Power Figure (Nkisi Nkondi), Vili, Republic of the Congo or Democratic Republic of the Congo, Art Institute of Chicago, 1998.502
Power Figure (Nkisi Nkondi), Vili, Republic of the Congo or Democratic Republic of the Congo, Art Institute of Chicago, 1998.502

How do artists’ choices of materials assign identity and meaning to works of art? How does meaning assign material? In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I explore the meaningful materials in a Nkisi Nkondi Power Figure of the Vili people in central Africa. This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents including background chatter and beeping proximity alarms.


Bamana Boli Ritual Object – Meaningful Materials (79)

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Ritual Object (Boli), Bamana, Mali, Mid-19th/early 20th century, Art Institute of Chicago, 1961.1177
Ritual Object (Boli), Bamana, Mali, Mid-19th/early 20th century, Art Institute of Chicago, 1961.1177
How do artists’ choices of materials assign identity and meaning to works of art? How does meaning assign material? In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I explore the meaningful materials in a Boli Ritual Object of the Bamana people in Mali, Africa. This recording comes complete with all the juicy, unscripted, live-action museum gallery accents including background chatter and beeping proximity alarms.

Permanent collection label:
Bamana sculpture often functions as a mediating force between the spirit and human realms. Ritual objects, such as this amorphously shaped boli, are commissioned and cared for by age-grade associations. A boli has a wood core wrapped with cotton cloth, into which spiritually charged packets are bound. Sacrificial materials, including animal blood and grains, are applied to its surface, giving it a crusty exterior. These sacrifices symbolize the layering of secret knowledge, imbuing the boli with nyama (life force). A boli is stored with other sacred objects in a shrine house and may only be seen by members of the association to which it belongs.

Incan Gold and Chicha Beer – Meaningful Materials (80)

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Two Peruvian ritual vessels, Art Institute of Chicago
Two Peruvian ritual vessels, Art Institute of Chicago

How do artists’ choices of materials assign identity and meaning to works of art? How does meaning assign material? In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I explore the meaningful material of gold in Incan art and culture. We also discuss the traditional Andean corn beer called “chicha.”

Features Works of Art:

Beaker
Inca, Ica Valley, south coast, Peru
Late 15th/early 16th century
Gold
16.5 x 6.4 cm (6 1/2 x 2 1/2 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, Kate S. Buckingham Endowment, 1955.2587

Pair of Beakers Depicting Birds in a Cornfield
Inca, Ica Valley, south coast, Peru
A.D. 1100/1438
Gold
Each 7 x 7.3 cm (2 3/4 x 2 7/8 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, Kate S. Buckingham Endowment, 1955.2589 a-b

Ceremonial Vessel (Aryballos)
Inca, Probably vicinity of Cuzco, Peru
1400/1532
Ceramic and pigment
78 x 49 cm (30 3/4 x 19 1/4 in.) (max.)
Art Institute of Chicago, Kate S. Buckingham Endowment, 1955.2214

Ritual Vessel Representing a Woman Carrying a Vessel (Aryballos) and Nursing a Child
Chimú-Inca, Lambayeque Valley, north coast, Peru
A.D. 1200/1450
Ceramic and pigment
23.9 x 18.4 cm (9 3/8 x 7 1/4 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, Kate S. Buckingham Endowment, 1955.2411

Chinese Jade – Meaningful Materials (81)

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81-dragon-jade-1950.640-1950.641
Two Chinese Jade Dragon Pendants, c. 4th/3rd century B.C., Art Institute of Chicago

How do artists’ choices of materials assign identity and meaning to works of art? How does meaning assign material? In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I explore the meaningful material of Chinese jade — its symbolic and medicinal value, function, materiality, artistry, and poetic inspiration.

Features Works of Art:

Dragon Pendants
Jade
China, Eastern Zhou dynasty
Warring States period (c.480-221 BC)
c. 4th/3rd century B.C.
9.2 x 16.8 x 0.7 cm (3 3/5 x 6 3/5 x 3/10 in.)
8.6 x 16.5 x 0.6 cm. (6-1/2 x 3-3/8 x 1/4 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, 1950.640
Art Institute of Chicago, 1950.641

Medicine Buddha Bhaishajyaguru – Meaningful Materials (82)

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Tibetan Painted Banner of the Medicine Buddha
Tibetan Painted Banner (Thangka) with the Medicine Buddha (Bhaishajyaguru), 14th century, Art Institute of Chicago

How do artists’ choices of materials assign identity and meaning to works of art? How does meaning assign material? In this excerpt from one of my museum tours, I explore the meaningful material of the semi-precious blue stone lapis lazuli in a Tibetan painted banner (thangka) of the Buddha of medicine and healing, Bhaishajyaguru.

Features Works of Art:

Painted Banner (Thangka) with the Medicine Buddha (Bhaishajyaguru)
Central Tibet, 14th century
Pigment and gold on cotton
104 x 82.7 cm (41 x 32 1/2 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, 1996.29

Dragons and Tigers (83)

The Birth of Dionysus (84)

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Hermes and the Infant Dionysus, Archaeological Museum of Olympia
Hermes and the Infant Dionysus, Archaeological Museum of Olympia

This is episode 84 of Ancient Worlds: The Birth of Dionysus. I’m the olive in your antiqui-tini, Lucas Livingston. Ancient Worlds is the mostly audio series of the Ancient Art Podcast. If you’re listening to the audio episode, you can see the picture gallery at ancientartpodcast.org/84. In each episode of Ancient Worlds I choose a single work of art to serve as a springboard for a discussion about the ancient world. Here we unpack the stories, history, myths, and culture from antiquity through a modern lens and with tongue firmly planted in cheek and a healthy dose of snark. So if you offend lightly, you might consider changing the channel. We may also encounter some full frontal ancient Greek male nudity both in stone and in words. I know many educators and parents take advantage of my podcast in their lessons. Some people find the conversation about nudity in art to be awkward with kids, but my best advice as an art museum educator is not to avoid the discussion. That’s about as damaging as misinformation. There are a number of helpful professional resources out there to help tackle that subject. One great starting point is Body Language: How to Talk to Students about Nudity in Art produced by the Art Institute of Chicago. You can download the 12-page PDF for free. You’ll find the link at ancientartpodcast.org/resources. [1]

Our artwork de jour is a statue of the Greek god Hermes holding the infant Dionysus. Hold on a sec. We’re calling this episode the “Birth of Dionysus.” So why, Lucas, didn’t you pick an image of the birth of Dionysus, because they’re out there? Yeah, I could have, but why follow a logical sequitur when the alternative is to not? And because when I think about this famous statue of Hermes holding the little baby god of wine, ecstasy, theater, and madness, it reminds me of the story of Dionysus’s birth.

Semele was on top of the world. She was a beautiful princess, daughter of King Cadmus of Thebes and the goddess Harmonia, so she had it pretty good. And on top of this, she was dating Zeus. Yes, the Zeus. What Semele didn’t know, though, was that the amorous eye of Zeus came with a catch. Zeus was married … and not to a delicate flower. Zeus’s wife was the goddess Hera and she never took kindly to the *many* mistresses of Zeus. Sometimes I imagine Zeus was the archetype object of every misogynistic ancient Greek husband’s divine bromance. The Olympian gods were generally horrible people, and I don’t mind saying that, because they’re all dead. Apologies to all my pagan friends.

Oh, side note, even though Semele’s mother was a goddess, apparently Semele didn’t inherit the divine gene, because she was mortal. I’m just saying. Surely that fact won’t come up again in our story.

So, Zeus and Hera. Despite all of Zeus’s dalliances with other goddesses, women, girls, and boys, she never sat down with him to have “the talk.” Instead, Hera would always exact her great vengeance and furious anger upon his lovers and their offspring. Different accounts by many authors have come down to us describing the details of what happened with Semele. The Roman Augustan-era poet Ovid makes the point of reminding us that Semele was related to Europa — specifically the niece of Europa — who also had an affair with Zeus, and Hera had vowed to make life hell for all of Europa’s kindred.

She hatched a plan to trick Semele into becoming “besties” and then sow the seeds of doubt about her relationship with Zeus. Ovid writes:

She rose up quickly from her shining throne,
and hidden in a cloud of fiery hue
descended to the home of Semele;
and while encompassed by the cloud, transformed
her whole appearance as to counterfeit
old Beroe, an Epidaurian nurse,
who tended Semele.
Her tresses changed
to grey, her smooth skin wrinkled and her step
grown feeble as she moved with trembling limbs;—
her voice was quavering as an ancient dame’s,
as Juno, thus disguised, began to talk
to Semele. [2]

In the guise of Beroe, Semele’s trusted nurse, Hera strikes up some small talk. “So, deary, are you seeing anyone special?”

“Oh! Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I am, and … uh … well, this is a little embarrassing, but actually I’m going steady with Zeus.”

“Really, now? Steady, you say? Well, that’s quite an honor.”

“I know, right? Yeah, he says he’s over Hera and that I’m totally the love of his life.”

Hera closed her eyes for a moment to compress the boiling rage within. “Well, ain’t that something? But tell me,” she said, “how do you know he is who he says he is? How do you know he’s Zeus?”

“Oh, well, um … I guess I just believe him. He’s very genuine and honest.”

“Is that so? If he is who is says he is, then he ought to show his true love for you, don’t you think? He ought to come to you in the manner in which he would comes to his divine wife, Hera, as a real man would, ‘so you may know what pleasure it is to sleep with a god.'” [3]

Semele stared through her companion off into the distance, thinking. Hera knew that her words had affected the young woman.

“Maybe I just will,” she said, “and I’ll prove it to you.” Though she really meant to prove it to herself. After all, if her new man were the almighty Zeus, why wouldn’t she be deserving of the same level of affection that he had given others before.

Let me quote a nice stanza from Ovid here:

With artful words as these the goddess worked
upon the trusting mind of Semele,
daughter of Cadmus, till she begged of Jove
a boon, that only hastened her sad death. [2]

“Zeus, do you love me?”

“Why sure, my dear, absolutely. You’re just the bee’s knees.”

“Then will you promise me something?”

“Absolutely, Semele, anything your heart desires?”

“Then, come to me, Zeus, in all the splendor of your glory as you would come to Hera in intimate embrace.”

“Oh, jeez, Semele, anything but that!”

“Now Zeus, you promised me anything!”

“Yes, but Semele…”

“Zeus, you said you love me!”

The god of thunder and lightning was trapped. His word was his bond. He could do nothing. In bittersweet grief, Zeus ascended aloft to dark skies already swirling with thunderous clouds. He called forth a majestic maelstrom with brilliantly destructive lightning and devastating gale winds. Worlds quaked from deep Hades to lofty Olympus. Yet even so, he restrained himself and did not call upon the devastating bolts that felled the hundred-handed monster Typhon or that embraced his divine bride Hera. Zeus released a lesser lightning of milder heat, but this was all too great for mortal Semele. In pangs of agony, she burnt to ash before his sad, mournful gaze. But there curled within the cinders that were once her shapely form, the fetal infant Dionysus lay, torn prematurely from his mother’s womb, from Semele’s womb.

Few authors go into the narrative beyond the bare bones facts of the matter. Semele asked, she received, she died, and there was Dionysus. Did Zeus know Semele was pregnant? Not necessarily, although the 2nd century Greek mythographer Pseudo-Apollodorus comments in his Bibliotheca that Semele was six months pregnant. So either Pseudo-Apollodorus didn’t really know much what six months pregnant looks like or he figured Semele wasn’t hiding this from anyone. [4]

Zeus carefully plucked his premature son from the smoldering fire of his mother and hastened to hide him from his jealous wife. By all accounts, to see that his child would be properly carried to term, Zeus stitches up Dionysus into his thigh. One of Dionysus’s many epithets, though, is Enorches, which some scholars interpret as a reference to male private parts. So it’s possible that somewhere, sometime, somehow the legend transformed from Zeus’s privates to Zeus’s thigh. Scholars certainly enjoy a field day with discussions around the idea of the pregnant male in ancient myths. And this wasn’t even Zeus’s first pregnancy. Remember Athena?

So, Zeus carried the fetal god Dionysus to term in his … let’s stick with thigh … until Dionysus was born a second time. Hence, another one of Dionysus’s epithets is Dimētōr, meaning “born of two mothers” — born once of Semele and then again of Zeus. Hyginus calls him that in the Fabulae. [3] While in the Metamorphoses, Ovid also calls Dionysus the “twice-born god,” which is a nickname you might hear a little more often, probably because it translates well. [5]

After the second birth of Dionysus, Zeus was still wary of Hera’s wrath and wasn’t quite ready to parade his new son around Olympus. Diodorus Siculus lets us know that Zeus handed the infant over to Hermes and ordered the messenger god to take him to a cave on Mount Nysa, which lay between Phoenicia and the Nile. [6] There he would find the nymphs of the mountain, who will nurse and raise the infant god. [7] And this brings us to our sculpture de jour, Hermes Carrying the Infant Dionysus, a second century Roman-era marble copy of an alleged 4th century BC sculpture by the noted Hellenistic sculptor Praxiteles. We are already experts on Praxiteles. We met him back in episode 26 looking at another one of his famous sculptures, the Aphrodite of Knidos. Unlike the Aphrodite, our Hermes Carrying Dionysus seems perhaps not to have been too terribly celebrated in antiquity. We have only a passing reference to it in Pausanias’s Description of Greece from the 2nd century of the Common Era, and he says:

… other images were dedicated in the Heraion, including a marble Hermes carrying the baby Dionysus, a work of Praxiteles… [8]

It’s much more celebrated today than in antiquity, because of a debate that raged in the 1930’s as to whether this marble sculpture that we have today is a Roman era copy or the original by Praxiteles. For the bibliography to that debate, check out the footnotes to this episode at ancientartpodcast.org/84. [9] Opinion today seems to lean toward it being a Roman homage to the original, but we’re not going to get into that discussion here. The tall, lean, muscular Hermes stands casually in the Classical contrapposto with his weight shifted to his right leg, his left knee bent, and his hips tilted at a sharp angle. Contrapposto is an Italian term describing this prevalent Classical and Renaissance-era bend of the human figure. His torso tilts to the right, realigning his center of gravity, as his head turns down and to the left at the infant Dionysus perched daintily on Hermes’s left arm.

There’s an affectionate gaze between the gods. The infant Dionysos leans forward slightly. His arms are missing, but his right hand delicately rests on Hermes’s shoulder. From what remains at the break on his left shoulder, we can tell that he was reaching forward toward Hermes. Hermes, in contrast, reaches his right arm high. It’s broken just above the elbow, but it’s clear that he’s reaching away from the infant. What’s going on here? These aren’t relaxed poses. We’re definitely seeing them in the middle of some intentional action, but what could that be? Pausanias’s comment doesn’t help us at all, so we’re forced to look elsewhere.

There are other sculptures that are stylistically similar to our Hermes here, like the Hermes Ludovisi. Rhys Carpenter gives us a quick rundown of those works with images in his 1954 article “Two Postscripts to the Hermes Controversy.” [9] These sculpted figures gesture somewhat similarly to Hermes, but they tend not to be doing much with the outstretched arm. Well, not doing much other than shepherding the souls of the dead to the underworld. But in our Hermes and Dionysus we have two figures, so we need to read them together. Baby Dionysus leans and reaches forward, bracing himself on Hermes’s shoulder for support. It’s as if Dionysus wants whatever Hermes has. What if Hermes is pulling away, trying to keep something from Dionysus? It’s almost like he’s teasing him.

Well, my money’s on Hermes playing a game of “got your nose” and Dionysus wants it back, but various authorities have postulated an alternative reconstruction. Similar to an ancient wall painting from the ashen ruins of Pompeii, Hermes likely once held a bunch of grapes. [10] Dionysus, god of wine, infant though he may be, is instinctually drawn to the grapes. This playful pairing of youthful gods in a casual context removed from the elevated grandeur of divinity fits right in with the humanistic ethos of 4th century late Classical Greece. We met a similarly humanizing rendering of a god with the Apollo Sauroktonos back in episode 48, also by Praxiteles. Gone are the moralistic black and white days of the glorious victory of Periclean Athens over the barbaric Persian forces. The 4th century Greek world is one of warring states and backstabbing governments vying for supremacy in the wake of the Persian and Peloponnesian wars. In a world of conflict, corruption, and depravity, the authority of divinity is reduced as the gods sit on their thrones and watch the mortal game play out … and the winning goal will be scored by a young MVP named Alexander.

Thanks for tuning in to Ancient Worlds. Check out ancientartpodcast.org/84 for references, footnotes, and a gallery of images for this episode. If you have anything to add to the conversation, you can add a comments there or on YouTube. You can get in touch with me directly at info@ancientartpodcast.org or on the web at ancientartpodcast.org/feedback. If you enjoy the podcast, please consider sharing some fiscal love. Whether it’s the cost of a cup of coffee or more, your donations help keep this ship afloat on our odyssey sailing the wine-dark seas. Just click the donate button at ancientartpodcast.org. And if you can’t donate a drachma, you can help the podcast by adding an iTunes review. Maybe it’ll even get you on the air, like LittleBrownMouse, who wrote: “Clearly, an exceptional amount of time and effort goes into these podcasts. Well scripted, but doesn’t sound like someone reading you a lecture. Truly excellent presentation, great images, and enjoyable even to someone who knows nothing at all about ancient art. Take the time to have a listen.”

And I thank you for listening. See you next time.


Footnotes:

[1] Art Institute of Chicago. Body Language: How to Talk to Students about Nudity in Art.

[2] Ovid. Metamorphoses III.251ff. Brookes More. Boston. Cornhill Publishing Co. 1922.

[3] Hyginus. Fabulae 167.

[4] Pseudo-Apollodorus. Bibliotheca 3.26-29.

[5] Ovid. Metamorphoses III.304.

[6] Homeric Hymn 1 to Dionysus.

[7] Diodorus Siculus. Library of History 4.2.3.
Pseudo-Apollodorus. Bibliotheca 3.26-29.

[8] Pausanias. Description of Greece 5.17.3.

[9] Carpenter, Rhys. “Who Carved the Hermes of Praxiteles?” American Journal of Archaeology, vol. 35, no. 3, 1931, pp. 249–261.

Casson, Stanley. “The Hermes of Praxiteles.” American Journal of Archaeology, vol. 35, no. 3, 1931, pp. 262–268.

Gisela M. A. Richter. “The Hermes of Praxiteles.” American Journal of Archaeology, vol. 35, no. 3, 1931, pp. 277–290.

Carpenter, Rhys. “Two Postscripts to the Hermes Controversy.” American Journal of Archaeology, vol. 58, no. 1, 1954, pp. 1–12.

[10] See Carpenter 1954, fig. 5. Also House of Zephyr and Flora. Also Pompeii in Pictures. VI.10.11 Pompeii. Casa del Naviglio o di zefiro e flora.


Music:

Colocate by Podington Bear

Nova by Go Ask Alice from the album Perfection is Terrible

The Shout by Go Ask Alice from the album Perfection is Terrible

Lightfeet by Podington Bear

Odysseus in the Underworld (85)

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Jar (pelike) with Odysseus and Elpenor in the Underworld, MFA Boston
Jar (pelike) with Odysseus and Elpenor in the Underworld, MFA Boston

A very brief excerpt from my lecture “Things That Go Bump: A Visual Survey of Witches, Demons, and Ghosts!” Odysseus Journeys to the Underworld and holds a seance with the souls of Hades through necromantic blood magic so the countless shades of the dead and the gone would surge around him.

Featured Work of Art:

Jar (pelike) with Odysseus and Elpenor in the Underworld
Greece, Athens, Classical, about 440 BC
The Lykaon Painter
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (34.79)


Goya’s Caprices and the Wicked Witch of the West (86)

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Happy Halloween! In this very brief excerpt from my lecture “Things That Go Bump: A Visual Survey of Witches, Demons, and Ghosts,” we introduce Goya’s 1797/99 published volume The Caprices (Los Caprichos). This tome of nightmares, witches, and devils satirizes human vice and intolerance of late 18th century Spanish society through the demons born of religion and power. We conclude with a brief glimpse at our modern icon of the Wicked Witch through the lens of art history and tradition. For greater depth, background, and context, watch episode 59, A Witches’ Sabbath.

For images of the featured works of art, visit http://ancientartpodcast.org/86.

Featured Work of Art:

Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes (Spanish, 1746-1828)
“The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters,” plate 43
“When Day Breaks We Will Be Off,” plate 71
“Pretty Teacher!” Plate 68
From Los Caprichos, 1797/99
(Museo Nacional del Prado)

Wicked Witch of the West, 1900
Wicked Witch of the West, 1900

Circe and Witchcraft in Ancient Greece (87)

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This is a short excerpt from my lecture “Things That Go Bump: A Visual Survey of Witches, Demons, and Ghosts.” Herein we explore the ancient Greek tradition of witchcraft and metamorphosis in two images — one ancient and one modern — of Circe, the definitive witch of Grecian lore and seductive sorceress of Odyssean fame. Waterhouse masterfully betrays her jealous cruelty in those cold, dark, uncaring eyes. Vying for the affection of a handsome lover, the hateful witch Circe poisons the placid pool where the her rival Scylla bathed. Circe’s potion of polymorphism transforms the beautiful nymph Scylla to the proverbial “hard place,” the loathsome multi-mawed many-tentacled monster, who’d dash the hopes (…and heads) of Odysseus’s men sailing “between Scylla and Charybdis.” And in the Grecian cup in the MFA, we see a magical elixir similarly perched in wicked Circe’s hands while Odysseus’s men are in the midst of metamorphosis from her arcane magicks.

Featured Works of Art:

John William Waterhouse, Circe Invidiosa (Jealous Circe), 1892
John William Waterhouse, Circe Invidiosa (Jealous Circe), 1892

John William Waterhouse
Circe Invidiosa (Jealous Circe), 1892
South Australian Government Grant 1892
Art Gallery of South Australia

Drinking cup (kylix) depicting scenes from the Odyssey
Greek, Archaic Period, about 560-550 BC
The Painter of the Boston Polyphemos
© Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (99.518)

Drinking cup depicting scenes from the Odyssey
Drinking cup (kylix) depicting scenes from the Odyssey
Greek, Archaic Period, about 560-550 BC
The Painter of the Boston Polyphemos
© Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (99.518)

Ancient Egyptian Cornucopia

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Silver dekadrachm of Ptolemy II, 285-246 BC, head of Arsinoe R / double cornucopia http://www.anythinganywhere.com/commerce/coins/coinpics/ancgkptol.htm

As citizens, immigrants, and perhaps some First Nation people sit down across the country, give thanks over an overflowing centerpiece of abundance, and celebrate Thanksgiving for the harvest, we pause to consider one of the earliest attested parallels to our concept of the cornucopia from Ancient Egypt.

Placed upon the feast table in this Middle Kingdom wall fragment from the tomb of Amenemhet now in the Art Institute of Chicago, we see a tidy row of what appears to be sliced bread (yes, the Ancient Egyptians invented sliced bread) amidst a plethora of food and drink: ox leg, leeks, beer, wine, fowl…

Notice, though, that the slices of bread taper at the tops to nifty little points and the bottoms are curved to taper similarly to single points engaging with the offering table. Unless we can also credit the Egyptians for inventing Italian panettone, I’m not sure that’s entirely expected of sliced bread.

What we have here is the beautiful interplay of word and image. A hybrid of Egyptian hieroglyphs and pictorial art. Sitting upon the table is not a representation of sliced bread, but Egyptian hieroglyphs depicting flowering reeds. Phonetically it approximates our letter “i” or “j,” but in the context here at functions as an ideogram instead of a phonogram…that is, as an idea instead of a sound. The idea of the flowering reed is a veritable cornucopia of all the fruit of the fields placed upon the offering table of Amenemhet. It’s symbolic value will stand in place of the literal, physical food offerings placed at the tomb by Amenemhet’s descendants and contracted priests, nourishing the deceased in perpetuity forever after.

… The Ancient Egyptian cornucopia.

Tibetan Mandalas (88)

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Sand Mandala of World Peace by monks from the Drepung Gomang Monastery
Drepung Gomang Monastery, Mandala of World Peace, Miller Beach, Indiana, September 21, 2014. Photo by Lucas Livingston.

Drepung Gomang Monastery
Mandala of World Peace
September 21, 2014
Miller Beach, Indiana
Photo by Lucas Livingston, ancientartpodcast.org/88

Architectural model of the Kalachakra mandala
Arjia Rinpoche, Architectural Model of the Kalachakra Mandala. researchdtmack.com/mandalas.html
Tibetan Mandala
Tibetan Mandala, James W. and Marilynn Alsdorf Collection in the Art Institute of Chicago (151.1996)

Tibet
Mandala
18th/19th century
Opaque watercolor and gold on cotton and wood
35.2 x 35.2 x 5.4 cm
The James W. and Marilynn Alsdorf Collection (151.1996)
From Pal, Pratapaditya, A Collecting Odyssey, 1997, fig. 210.

Tibetan Mandala
Tibetan Mandala, James W. and Marilynn Alsdorf Collection in the Art Institute of Chicago (150.1996)

Tibet
Mandala
18th/19th century
Opaque watercolor and gold on wood
26.7 x 26.7 x 12.8 cm (10 1/2 x 10 1/2 x 5 in)
The James W. and Marilynn Alsdorf Collection (150.1996)

Gallery label: Mandala, literally meaning “circle,” is a diagram of the spiritual universe that is used as a meditational device. The circle encloses a sacred area, into which the devotee enters via meditation. The only figures shown in this abstract mandala are the demons who inhabit the charnel ground within the circle of flames. The central hexagon is a yantra (a meditation device) that symbolizes the combination of masculine and feminine aspects, shown as two overlapping triangles. Their union induces cosmic harmony. A circle connects the points of the hexagon, symbolizing the unification of the souls of everything living and divine.

Adventures of Ulysses (89)

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The Adventures of Ulysses by Apollonio di Giovanni
Apollonio di Giovanni
Italian, 1415/17-1465
The Adventures of Ulysses, 1435/45
42 x 131.7 cm (16 3/4 x 51 7/8 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, 1933.1006

In this excerpt from a recent tour, I explore some of the highlights from Homer’s Odyssey in a 15th century Florentine painting and learn a little about Italian Renaissance marriage and fidelity. Names and terms dropped: Homer, Odysseus, Penelope, Nausica, cyclops, Polyphemus, the Sirens, Hermes, moly, Circe, Calypso, Argos, Apollonio di Giovanni, James Joyce, Trojan War, Tuscan, gilding; important terms not dropped: cassone.

Featured Work of Art:

Apollonio di Giovanni
Italian, 1415/17-1465
The Adventures of Ulysses, 1435/45
42 x 131.7 cm (16 3/4 x 51 7/8 in.)
Art Institute of Chicago, 1933.1006

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