Gods, Goddesses, Heroes and Monsters

As promised, here’s a look at what I’m learning this semester in my art history class at George Mason University. 

Many, many years ago, when I was in high school, we read book by Edith Hamilton about Greek mythology and I remember being fascinated by the pantheon of gods and goddesses.  We may also have read Homer’s Odyssey (high school classmates, do you remember?), but that is where my study of the classics ended.  In a belated attempt to remedy this educational deficit, I signed up for an art history class entitled Symbols and Stories in Western Art.  Now I’m finally acquiring a deeper understanding the figures and stories found not only ancient Greek art, but in all of western art from the Renaissance through modern times.  In the past few weeks, I’ve been introduced to a huge cast of quirky gods, goddesses, heroes and monsters.  And thanks to a professor with a lively lecturing style and a great sense of humor, the class has been as entertaining as it is informative. 

At our very first class meeting, Professor Gregg asked us if we knew the meaning of the word “symposium.”  He then showed us an image of painted Greek vase with a scene of a symposium.  Much to my surprise, I learned that a symposium was actually a drinking party in ancient Greece.  (See photo below.)  Only men and prostitutes were present at these gatherings.  Consider that at the next symposium you attend. 

A lot of the new knowledge I’ve gained comes in sets of threes.  For example, scholars divide ancient Greek art into three historical periods.  The first is the Archaic period, from about the 8^th century BCE to 480 BCE. If you’ve seen any Greek statues where the smiling figure is in a stiff, awkward pose (as in the photo below), you’re looking at an Archaic work of art. 

 

The Classical period began in 480 BCE, which was a very busy year for the ancient Greeks.  First of all, the mighty Persian army invaded Greece and ransacked the temples on the Acropolis.  However, later that same year, the Greeks decisively defeated the Persians at the battle of Salamis and the Persian general Xerxes took his army back home.  After eliminating the Persian threat, Athens flourished.  During this golden age, the Parthenon was built. 

Also during the Classical period, sculpture became more natural, and an idealized form of the Greek male appeared.  This was a youthful figure with a serene expression, relaxed stance, compact perfect proportions (with noticeable musculature), an oval head with a U-shaped jawline and a broad chin.  You can see an example in the photo below.  Knowing how young girls today develop complexes about body image due to the prevalence of idealized female images in the media, I wonder if young boys in ancient Greece suffered from similar psychological problems.

The death of Alexander the Great in 323 BCE ushered in the Hellenistic period.  By this time, Greek culture had spread throughout the Mediterranean and deep into Asia.  Compared to Classical sculpture, sculpture from the Hellenistic period was a lot more dynamic, and much more effective at storytelling.  It was theatrical, emotional, psychologically complex, and able to engage the viewer more than ever before.  You can see an example in the photo below.

Perhaps you’re already familiar with another group of three, i.e. the three orders of architecture – Doric, Ionic and Corinthian.  In case you don’t recall, the Doric column is plain, the Ionic column has two scrolls at the top, and the Corinthian column is the most elaborate, with leaf-like shapes at the top. 

Then there are three types of sculptural friezes (rectangular fields of decoration on a Greek temple).  A Doric temple can have sculpture in the metopes (self-contained rectangles above the columns).  A metope is like a snapshot, capturing a single moment in time. 

When looking at Ionic and Corinthian temples, you often see pedimental friezes (in the triangular pediments on the front and back of the building) and a continuous frieze (a long rectangular band that wraps completely around all four sides of the building).  A continuous frieze is like a movie, in that it can tell a complete story with the action happening over time.  A pedimental frieze (two are seen below) is larger than a metope, but its storytelling ability is limited by its triangular shape.  Pedimental friezes and continuous friezes are never found on Doric temples. 

While we’re discussing time, I’ll mention the three types of narrative time found in ancient Greek art – anticipatory, synoptic and climactic.  Climactic, of course, shows the most dramatic moment in the story; anticipatory is a single moment in time before the climax of the story.  When a scene is portrayed in synoptic time, we see several different moments in the story. 

In addition, we learned the names of three types of pottery vessels – amphora, krater, and kylix.  The amphora (accent on the first syllable) was the jug used for storing liquids, such as wine.  The krater was shaped like an inverted bell.  It was used for mixing the wine with water and various spices (the Greeks never drank undiluted wine).  The kylix (pictured below) was a broad, shallow, footed wine cup.  All three of these pottery vessels had two handles. 

As far as techniques used for painting pottery, there’s another group of three.  The earliest technique was black-figure.  Using this technique, large areas of black paint were applied to unfired pottery and details were created by scratching lines into the black paint prior to firing.  You can see this in the amphora pictured below.  The later red-figure technique allowed for more fluidity and greater detail, as lines and shapes could be painted in prior to firing.  (see the photo of the kylix, above)  Finally, the white ground technique involved the application of polychromatic tempera pigments after firing.  Since the decoration produced with this technique was fragile, not many examples have survived antiquity.

Professor Gregg also told us that Greek artists weren’t very good at landscape.  They generally used symbols to show geographic features.  So if you see Prometheus bound to a column, the column represents a mountain or cliff.  (see photo below) If you see Poseidon surrounded by fish or ships, they represent the sea. 

A lot of our study has been devoted to iconography, i.e. the visual clues that help you identify figures in the art.  These could be physical characteristics of the figure or objects associated with the figure.  For example, if you see a male figure with a lion skin, a club, arrows and quiver, you’re looking at Herakles.  Zeus and Poseidon are both portrayed as mature, bearded male figures, but Zeus usually holds a thunderbolt while Poseidon holds a trident. 

You might also see gods and goddesses with their special animals: the eagle for Zeus, the horse for Poseidon, the peacock for Hera (there’s a long story related to this), the owl for Athena, etc. 

Some of the more interesting epithets used in literature to describe the gods and goddesses are: 

Hera – ox-eyed (that was supposed to be complimentary)

Poseidon – earth shaker

Zeus – the thunderer

Athena – Parthenos (virgin, maiden)

Ares – strong-fisted (Ares, the god of war who reveled in the strife and chaos of battle, wasn’t popular with the ancient Greeks)

By the way, do you have a favorite Greek god or goddess?  Mine is Athena, the goddess of wisdom, weaving, and warfare.  The massive chryselephantine (marble and gold) statue of Athena by Pheidias that stood in the Parthenon no longer exists, but here’s a modern re-creation:

Gestures and poses are also very helpful for identifying figures in ancient Greek art.  In the enthroned pose, a god or goddess, usually Zeus or Hera, is seated on a throne.  This was the pose used in the monumental cult statue of Zeus in Olympia, by the Greek sculptor Pheidias.  The same pose was adopted by the 18^th century American sculptor Greenough for his marble statue of George Washington, on view in the Smithsonian’s Museum of American History in Washington, DC. 

In the smiting pose, the figure is striding forward, with the left foot in front, and the right arm raised, holding a weapon.  The Greeks borrowed this pose from Egyptian art.  In the statue seen in the photo below, either Zeus or Poseidon is shown in the smiting pose.  Scholars aren’t certain of the figure’s identity because the weapon (either thunderbolt or trident) didn’t survive. 

The early 19^th century painting seen below (“Jupiter and Thetis” by Ingres) below shows the gesture of supplication.  Thetis is crouching down before an enthroned Zeus and reaching up to touch his lips as she asks for a favor.

 

Greek mythology is filled with stories, some of which I was already familiar with. However, I’d never heard of the Titanomachy, or the war of the Titans, where Zeus and his fellow Olympians fought against his father Cronus and the Titans.  Zeus won.  This was followed by the Gigantomachy, the war Zeus and the Olympians waged against the Giants.  The ancient Greeks viewed the Giants as savage and cruel, and saw themselves as bringers of order and logic.  Thus the Gigantomachy was of critical importance for the ancient Greeks, as it represented the struggle between order and chaos, and it was frequently depicted in architectural sculpture (see photo below) and on painted vases.

Zeus was certainly part of a dysfunctional family.  His father, Cronus (known as Saturn by the Romans), swallowed the first five of his children before his wife, Rhea, gave birth to Zeus and hid him from her crazy husband.  Don’t worry, though.  Cronus threw up all the children later on, which made it possible for Zeus to marry his older sister, Hera. Goya’s 1815 painting of Cronus eating his child (see photo below) is especially horrific.

Being married didn’t stop Zeus from pursuing and mating with all sorts of goddesses (Thetis, mother of Achilles), Titans (Mnemosyne, mother of the Muses), and mortals, both male (Ganymede) and female (Europa).  Through the reading for my class, I learned of his countless amorous adventures, which included some rather creative wooing strategies and some unusual offspring.  When Zeus seduced the Titan Metis, then turned her into a fly and swallowed her, the result was the goddess Athena, born from the head of Zeus.  Needless to say, Hera, the wife of Zeus, is often portrayed as angry and vengeful.

Professor Gregg noted that erotic acts involving the gods were never shown explicitly in ancient Greek art.  Instead, the artists used a particular gesture, the wrist or forearm grab, to indicate that the sexual act occurred.  Additionally, the artist could portray a female figure removing the veil from her head to signify her sexual availability. 

Homosexuality was accepted between older men and young boys in ancient Greek society.  The rooster was a courting gift that an older man would give to the object of his desire.  We saw this on a vase from the Archaic period (see photo below) where the young Ganymede, pursued by Zeus, is holding a rooster.  Also note that Zeus is gripping Ganymede by the forearm.

You may be familiar with the somewhat gruesome story of Prometheus, the Titan who created man.  According to Greek myth, he also stole fire from the gods on Mt. Olympus, hid it in a fennel stalk, and brought it to mankind.  Zeus was so angry that he punished Prometheus by chaining him to a rock or cliff for eternity and arranging to have an eagle peck out his liver everyday (it would grow back every night).  It was interesting to a modern representation of Prometheus, the stealer of fire, such as the 1934 gilded bronze statue by Paul Manship, located at 1 Rockefeller Plaza in New York City. 

Note that there were no women at the time Prometheus brought fire to mankind.  Women didn’t exist until Zeus ordered Hephaestus to gather clay and create one mortal based on the form of a goddess.  He instructed all the gods and goddesses to bestow gifts on the woman, named Pandora (which means “all gifts”).  The Greek poet Hesiod wrote that Zeus told the god Hermes to give Pandora the mind of a bitch and the character of a thief.  Hmm.  Unfortunately, this is just one example of how misogynistic ancient Greek culture was.

Finally, a story that’s often portrayed in ancient Greek art concerns a small, unnamed town that held a competition to see which god or goddess would become its patron.  The inhabitants issued an invitation to all of the Olympians, asking each one to present a gift to the town.  Only Poseidon and Athena chose to participate in the contest.  Poseidon appeared and thrust his spear into the ground, whereupon water sprang up.  Unfortunately, the water turned out to be salty (after all, he was the god of the sea).  Athena thrust her spear into the ground, and an olive tree appeared – the very first olive tree, in fact.  There was no doubt about whose gift was better.  The town chose Athena and named itself Athens in her honor.  

 

And that’s a summary of what I’ve learned in school in the past few weeks.  Now it’s on to the Trojan War! 

Seasonal Reflections

It’s that time of year again:  The new school year has begun and the Jewish High Holy Days are approaching.  The autumnal equinox arrives in a few days, falling between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur this year.  Some hearty chrysanthemums, holdovers from last year, recently popped up outside.  Soon the leaves on the trees will start to turn crisp and golden.  Change is in the air, and I find myself feeling contemplative. While summer was devoted to active pastimes, the arrival of fall is the signal to pause for reflection and to pay attention to thoughts that have been slowly taking shape in my mind. 

A year and a half has now passed since I lost Elliott.  During those months when I was adjusting to living on my own, I tried to fill my life with friends and family, creative pursuits, and purposeful activities.  Perhaps, at times, I tried to do too much.  I didn’t leave myself many unstructured hours or days.  Was I afraid that sorrow would overtake me?  In any case, my month in Argentina wrenched me from the routines I’d developed and forced me to re-examine some of the choices I’d made. 

While I was living in Buenos Aires, my daily life was suddenly simplified.  My calendar was no longer filled with engagements, yet my days were filled: helping Sylvie pick out clothes to wear in the morning, going to the bakery with Sylvie to get a snack, stopping by the playground, making dinner with Elisa.  Spending time with Elisa, Christian and Sylvie was my main concern.  All the other cares of daily life melted away.  By the time I was ready to return home, I realized how much calmer I felt. 

Once I was back in Virginia, I wanted to retain that feeling of calm.  As my calendar started to fill once again with lunch dates, medical appointments, and volunteer commitments, I made the conscious decision to reserve some quiet time in my life.  I had previously viewed an empty space of a few hours as a problem, a void that demanded filling.  Now I was no longer afraid to stop and breathe, to listen, and to let my mind wander.  If I allowed myself to fall asleep with a book in my hand as the late afternoon sun streamed through the window, I’d wake up feeling refreshed, rather than guilty that I’d been wasting time.  And if the solitude occasionally brought on feelings of loneliness – well, that was okay, too.  I’d be able to adjust, as my weeks in Buenos Aires had taught me. 

With this new approach, there was still time for auditing a class at George Mason University and I was excited when I looked at the fall semester offerings. I resisted the urge to sign up for two or three.  Instead, I gave myself a chance to try out a couple of possibilities during the first week of school and then selected just one.  I’m pleased that the lectures and reading for my art history class (Symbols and Stories in Western Art) take up just the right amount of time.  I’ll tell you more about that class in a future post. 

Also, after much internal debate, I decided to sign up for another session at the glass studio.  I didn’t want to over-schedule myself, but I love working there and I felt it would be important to do some kind of art.  The problem was, I already had a sizeable inventory of finished and semi-finished fused glass pieces.  What would I do with more of the stuff?  Selling it wasn’t a realistic option, since I didn’t want to devote time and energy to marketing it.  While I was trying to make a decision, I thought of Elliott, and how he turned to painting fulltime after his retirement from the federal government.  Although he eventually showed his work in galleries, commercial success was never his goal.  If no one had ever exhibited or bought one of his paintings, he would have been satisfied.  At the same time, he didn’t permit himself to become overly attached to his work.  It was the process of creation, not the finished product, that mattered to him.  That realization helped me come to the conclusion that only way I could justify making more fused glass was to give away the pieces that I already have.  Once I made that decision, I started thinking about donating pieces for fundraisers as well as using them for gifts, and I felt much better.

With more time at home, I’ve turned my attention to cooking again and I’m excited about trying new recipes.  I’m focusing on vegan dishes, such as the Anatolian Red Lentil Stew with Eggplant, Chickpeas and Wheat Berries (courtesy of Madhur Jaffrey’s World Vegetarian cookbook) in the photo above – lemon juice and fresh mint give the stew a distinctive flavor.  One of my greatest pleasures remains sharing meals at home with friends.  However, I have to remind myself to temper my enthusiasm about issuing invitations, or I’ll end up spending too many hours in the kitchen. 

This hearty vegan stew is perfect for a fall dinner.

Showing self-control when it comes to travel is one of the hardest challenges I continue to face.  Not long after I returned from Buenos Aires, I started considering doing some more local travel, for example, going up to New York for some museums and shows, driving to the beach with a friend for a few days, or even spending some time hiking in the Shenandoah Valley.  And I’d love to visit the many friends I have spread across the country. 

Overseas travel is also on my mind a lot.  I’ve already made reservations for trips to India later in 2017 and Israel in 2018.  Whenever I see information about an interesting looking tour, I’m tempted to sign up.  The list of places I want to visit keeps growing, and I have to remind myself that I can’t possibly go everywhere within the next couple of years.  I hope I will remain healthy enough to travel for another decade or so.  And while I’m thinking about travel, I must admit that it would be nice to have some travel companions.  To all my friends who are still working (and there are plenty of you out there), I say:  Please retire soon! 

There are so many places to go and people to see, but I need to balance my travels with time at home.  I’ve learned to take a deep breath when I find myself on the verge of running off to another exotic destination and force myself to look at the bigger picture.  That didn’t stop me, however, from plunking down the money to go back to Buenos Aires next month.  Even though the airfare is outrageously high, I’d rather use my money to visit my family than for other indulgences.  It will be a shorter visit, but I’ll get to see Miss Sylvie again, so I don’t regret the decision. 

Argentina Adventures: A Day on the Estancia

Ever since I’d booked my ticket to Buenos Aires, I’d been hoping a visit to an estancia (ranch).  As the end of my month in Argentina approached, I realized I still hadn’t seen the windswept pampas or the legendary gauchos.  In my mind, I could see myself on horseback, my hair flying behind me as I galloped alongside the gauchos (conveniently forgetting the fact that I hadn’t ridden a horse in over 40 years, and even then, my riding experience was limited to trotting around a ring in summer camp).   

On the estancia

Finally, on my last weekend in Argentina, my wish was granted.  Along with Elisa, Christian, and Silvie, I set off for a dia de campo at Don Silvano, an estancia that welcomes guests.  This “field day” or “day in the country” is a popular excursion for Argentine families, as well as for tourists from other countries.

Bienvenido a Don Silvano

Upon our arrival at the estancia, about 55 miles (90 minutes) northwest of Buenos Aires, we were welcomed by Santiago, one of the gauchos, and ushered towards a shelter where we snacked on warm empanadas and wine or juice.  Even though it was still technically morning, I opted for the wine.  As we were munching and sipping, we reviewed the day’s schedule:  a horseback or carriage ride, followed by an asado lunch with entertainment, a little free time for shopping or playing, then a gaucho show, and lastly another snack late in the afternoon before our departure. 

I took a quick look around – the sky was cloudy day and the land was flat – but what impressed me most was the number of people of all ages who were enjoying the simple pleasures of life away from the city.  Some of the youngest children were in strollers while older kids were running after each other or kicking a soccer ball around an open field.  I noticed couples walking hand in hand and a brave soul crossing overhead on a zip line.  And how refreshing it was to see that not a single person was playing an electronic game or using a cell phone.  (Actually, there was no cell service on the property.) 

We walked past roaming chickens and peacocks to greet the horses in the paddock.  When I showed Sylvie how to give a horse a gentle pat, she seemed a little hesitant.  However, a short time later, she didn’t protest at all about sitting in the saddle when it was time for our horseback ride.  Of course, Elisa was sitting with her and holding her securely.  Once a small group of us were seated on our horses, one of the estancia’s experienced riders led us out onto the pampas.  It was a strange sensation to be on horseback again.  I really had to concentrate to keep my balance in the saddle, especially when climbing up or down rough terrain.  I kept thinking that a seatbelt would be useful.  Thankfully, our horses were content to plod along at a slow pace.

Once our feet were on the ground again, we headed to the sprawling playground, and gave Sylvie a chance to run around.  Before we knew it, we were being called into the dining room, a cavernous barn-like structure, where we joined about 180 convivial guests from all over the world for a traditional Argentine asado.  A typical asado is a weekend or holiday social event where families and friends gather for a barbeque, with the men doing the grilling.  At Don Silvano, all the guests sat at long communal tables that were already set with bowls of salads, baskets of rolls, and bottles of wine and mineral water.  Servers ran back and forth with platters of sizzling grilled meats, including sausages, chicken, and various cuts of beef.  Elisa, who doesn’t eat any meat, had plenty to eat with skewers of vegetables cooked on the parrilla.  A dulce de leche based dessert concluded the feast. 

Lunchtime entertainment 

While we were stuffing ourselves, a guitarist/singer and a pair of costumed dancers provided entertainment.  They performed songs and dances from various regions of Argentina and made us all feel like one big extended family.  Of course, while all this was going on, Elisa, Christian and I took turns running outside to supervise Sylvie, who was back in the playground. 

Around 3 p.m., people started gathering in the stands for the gaucho show.  We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect setting.  The sky had been overcast all day, but now, as the sun neared the horizon, golden rays streamed across the pampas, casting long shadows.  Argentine flags were snapping in the brisk breeze.  In the distance, sheep were grazing.  Suddenly, a trio of gauchos on horseback thundered out and the show of dazzling equestrian prowess began. 

 Seated on his horse, Santiago explained – and I mostly understood his Spanish – the skills they were demonstrating.  He also told us about a custom from the old days on the pampas.  During this time when men vastly outnumbered women in the colony, gauchos came up with a unique way to find wives.  While a crowd watched, they would compete in daredevil displays on horseback, including a game of reaching for a metal ring while galloping at full speed.  The winner of the competition would present the ring to the lady of his choice, claiming her as his bride. 

At our gaucho show, the custom was modified.  The three riders competed in several different games and races.  Each time, the winner selected a woman in the stands.  Instead of whisking her off to be his wife, he was entitled to a kiss from her.  And if the woman had a husband, the husband would be required to kiss the gaucho’s horse.  We all had a good laugh when Elisa was chosen. 

And then it came time for the final event.  Santiago announced that the three gauchos would gallop past, and each would attempt to grab a metal ring.  If the rider succeeded, he could claim two kisses from his chosen woman.  The event was over in a matter of seconds.  All three riders proudly held up their metal rings and scanned the crowd of onlookers.  I was both shocked and thrilled when Santiago motioned to me and presented me with the prized metal ring.  Of course, I gladly bestowed two kisses on his sweaty face and tucked the ring into my pocket. 

The finale of the gaucho show

Our day on the estancia was nearly over.  Before we departed, we congregated outside for a typical Argentine snack.  While we were sipping maté cocido (the teabag form of maté) and biting into delicious quince-filled pastries, we all agreed that our dia de campo at Don Silvano had been a perfect day.  I’d certainly recommend it to anyone who’s visiting Buenos Aires and is seeking some family-friendly fun in a casual summer camp environment.  The day on the estancia had certainly exceeded my expectations.  While I hadn’t gone galloping across the pampas, I’d not only met a genuine gaucho, I’d even kissed one!