The ancient town of Schwarzenacker lay within the Roman region of Gallia, near(ish) the city of Trier, formerly Augusta Trevorum. The town was founded between 52-58 AD and destroyed in 275 AD by Germanic tribes who quickly abandoned the site, leaving it in relative isolation. In one house, which can be seen reconstructed in the image here, lived a certain Sextus Ajacius Launus. Medical instruments found on site suggest that the building was used for surgical or medical practices, but the instruments themselves, such as scalpels, forceps, probes and spatulas are fairly generic. Also found at the site was a square stone stamp, engraved on four sides, and a cake of medicament, identifying the individual as an eye doctor or Ophthalmologist. Continue reading
Non tamen expositas mensa deprendat amator
Pyxidas: ars faciem dissimulata iuvat.
Still, don’t let your lover find cosmetic bottles on your dressing table: art delights in its hidden face.
It’s no surprise to find that Ovid was yet another man fond of the ‘natural look’, the unblemished, thrown together, I-woke-up-like-this woman whose imperfections are as deliberate as her smooth cheeks. In his advice for lovers, Ovid refers to alutae, small soft leather patches worn like plasters to cover blemishes on the face (Ars, 3.202). Unfortunately these bizarre patches are only found in literary references, so we have no archeological evidence to suggest what they looked like and how they were applied. It’s thought that the patches would have been treated with alum and pasted directly onto the skin with a thick paste or foundation, which would then cover them, creating the impression of a flawless skin. Continue reading
Whilst the association of cowrie shells and vulvas is never explicitly stated by ancient writers, there are a few clues which draw connecting lines between the two, even if never stating the obvious. In addition to the cowrie girdles placed near the womb and vulva, etymological links suggest a linguistic parallel to our visual one. Continue reading
Cowries are native to the Indian Ocean, but have been found en masse in archaeological excavations across Egyptian, Phoenician and Mesopotamian sites, often modified or pierced – presumably to be suspended as a pendant. Whilst some lack context, many have been found in the tombs of children and women. Around the 2nd millennium BC, objects appear which imitate the form of cowrie shells, with characteristic elliptical shape and central split with serrated edges. A brief look at such imitations brings up some questions: why recreate a shape which forms so naturally? And what meaning could be hidden within this intriguing form?
The Cesnola Collection of Cypriot Art, comprising over 6000 objects, was bought by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1872. The collection is known best for its unrivalled stone statues and spans a vast period between 3000 BC to 300 BC, encompassing the twists and turns of Cyprus’ rich history. It was amassed by the American consul Luigi Palma di Cesnola, who served in Cyprus between 1865 and 1877 and later became a director of the Met (a deal he set up in return for his collection).
For over two thousand years, a phenomenon took hold in the ancient world, from the Levantine coast of Phoenicia to the rainy fields of Somerset. In sanctuaries and temples, anatomical votives were dedicated to a range of different deities, calling upon their healing powers. These anatomical votives have been found in their hundreds, among them hands, feet, eyes, noses, breasts, ears, penises and uteri. Continue reading
Small, roughly cut and covered in strange symbols, these little stones have made their way through museum collections, passed from Classical departments to Egyptology ones, Medieval to European Prehistory. They’ve represented exotic religious doctrines and containers carried by devotees of Isis. Their central motif has depicted a “vase of sins” of the Gnostic Christian sect, a vase to collect water from the Nile, a pneumatically driven musical instrument, a cooking pot and no doubt many more entertaining conjectures which never made it to paper. Continue reading
These prescriptions are all taken from the Kahun Gynaecological papyrus, edited and translated by F.L.Griffith in 1989. The Papyrus was found at El-Lahun in Northern Egypt and is currently housed in the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology, part of University College London. The papyrus is dated to circa 1800BC, the late Middle kingdom, making it the oldest known medical text in Egypt. Continue reading
Sometime in the second half of the 4th century bc, a Pythaogorean philosopher living in Southern Italy put forward his idea about the principles of man. He wrote that the rational animal is made up of four principles: the brain, the heart, the navel, and the genital organ, in order of hierarchy. These choices, perhaps not the four you would have chosen, are explained by dividing the functions of the body between these principles. The navel is the seat of implantation and the growth of the embryo, from which future growth and nutrition is provided. Whilst these philosophical ideas of Philolaus of Croton are preserved only in the fragmentary records of later Greek philosopher, we can assume from what we have that Philolaus considered the navel as the centre of the body. Continue reading
In the second century BC in the Macedonian city of Beroea there was a Gymnasium. Like many from its period, it had a Gymnasiarch who was responsible for administration and etiquette within the complex, and it existed as an important civic institution, governed by laws and funded by both the city-state and private funds. The gymnasium was the regular haunt of the neoi, the young men, and the ephebes whose training and socialisation was strictly regulated. By this point, in the Hellenistic period, the gymnasium was not just a place for athletics and training, but for all the education required to turn youthful boys into promising future leaders. Despite its importance within the community, the gymnasium at Beroea was barred to a great deal of people: slaves, freedmen, the sons of freedmen, tradesmen, male prosistutes, drunk people, people with physical disabilities and, unsurprisingly, women. It no doubt had places to train, talk, study, wash and oil up in preparation for the days activities. But as an inscription found in Beroea attests, the gymnasium also had another stream of income, often overlooked. Continue reading