The Thera Wall Paintings as Archaeological Finds
This latter character has drawn research in the direction of interpretative approaches to the paintings, virtually ignoring their quality as archaeological finds, which is why I have chosen this subject for my talk this evening.
However, before I begin, I should like to stress that without exception all the materials used for cleaning, consolidating, strengthening and displaying the wall paintings are reversible. This not only facilitates their removal should they prove harmful in the future, but also permits the insertion of missing pieces in their rightful place if these are discovered after completion of the restoration.
Like every archaeological find, the wall paintings of Thera pass through several necessary stages before they are made accessible for scholarly study and aesthetic enjoyment.
The first stage is their recovery from among the ruins. As is well known, the violent collapse of the walls they once decorated shattered the paintings into thousands of fragments. All too often, significant sections are shattered to the extent of pulverisation, and their restoration is consequently impossible. Because of the state in which the wall paintings are found a special procedure must be followed for their recovery. The pace of work is extremely slow and the continuous presence of the specialist conservator on site is essential.
Whenever a fragment of plaster appears, the excavator makes way for the conservator. Equipped with a surgical scalpel, a fine brush, a puffer, syringes and little glass jars of acetone and different dilutions of movilit, he undertakes the delicate task of recovering all the pieces. First, he gently removes and brushes away any grit and earth covering the fragment. As it is exposed, he proceeds to impregnate it with acetone which, being volatile, dries out the plaster completely and quickly. It is then ready to receive successive dilutions of movilit in acetone, to consolidate both paint and plaster and so avoid further crumbling during removal. When the last impregnation with movilit has dried, a piece of gauze is laid on the exposed surface of the plaster (either front or back) and stuck to it with successive coats of the same fixative. Only when this has dried is the fragment ready for removal from the ruins to be transferred to the laboratory.
Already much time has been consumed, since at least twenty-four hours must elapse between applying the gauze and lifting up the fragment. This interval may be longer if the atmosphere happens to be damp. It goes without saying that, while the conservator is busy at his task, the archaeologist records the conditions in which the fragment was found, its exact position, measurements, colours if visible, subject perhaps depicted (if discernible) etc., the photographer takes the necessary shots, and the draughtsperson makes detailed drawings. Concurrently, wherever deemed necessary, the whole process is recorded on video. Experience has proved that this painstaking process not only helps us to understand the conditions of destruction of the wall that was painted, but also facilitates the search for joining pieces, considerably shortening the time required for reconstructing the wall painting.
The second stage of work on the wall paintings is carried out in the laboratory at the site, which has been specially organised for this purpose. This is the most exacting and laborious stage, and includes several phases.
The free surface of each fragment or cluster of fragments stuck to a piece of gauze is cleaned meticulously of all traces of foreign matter. Then, using acetone as a solvent, each individual fragment is unstuck from the gauze and its edges cleaned and consolidated. These tiny fragments are stuck together again in such a way that there is absolutely no gap between the joins. Each larger piece thus formed is consolidated and strengthened behind with a thin layer of paste consisting of fine sand mixed with fixative. This measure protects the pieces from further damage when they are picked up and moved about in the search for adjoining ones. The pieces which have been found to join together are placed in position on a large table, without being stuck, and the search continues until all possible joins have been found. Only then does the process of sticking together the pieces in the puzzle and reconstructing the wall painting begin. The process of cleaning, conserving, consolidating and searching for joins between fragments is lengthy and costly. It demands a large team of experienced conservators and may take months or even years.
The wall surfaces that were decorated with murals were never completely flat. They had irregularities and undulations which the experienced conservator must discover and follow during the assembling of the pieces and the reconstruction of the wall painting. Otherwise, there is a danger of ending up with gaps and fissures between pieces that clearly join together, and consequently losing the cohesion of the representation. In order to avoid this danger, the Greek conservators, of whom we are justly proud, devised a special process of reconstruction. Pieces that join, whether large or small, are not stuck together on the horizontal surface of the table but are literally built up vertically within a special temporary frame. At the base of the frame the pieces of the best preserved side of the wall painting are reassembled, in order to minimise the possibility of deviation. On this first row of pieces, the next ones are 'built' successively, following the undulations and irregularities of the plaster. In order to prevent the pieces collapsing as the height of the wall painting increases, each new row is boxed in by a frame of planks that is packed with a mixture of polystyrene pellets in a very dilute solution of fixative. Thus, a kind of sandwich is created, of which the filling is the wall painting. Of course, all measures are taken beforehand to protect the painted surface.
When the last row of pieces has been stuck in position, the planks and the filler supporting the back of the wall painting are removed. The back is then reinforced with a thin layer of acetone soluble plaster. A special frame of angulated aluminium strips, of slightly larger dimensions than those of the wall painting and strengthened with fine chicken wire, is placed so that the wire touches the plastered surface. Then a second layer of the same plaster is applied so that the wire is embedded in the back of the wall painting. When the plaster has dried, the space created by the width of the angulated aluminium strips is filled with polystyrene pellets in a weak solution of fixative. This process transforms the wall painting into a panel that can be freed safely from the temporary reconstruction frame. It is then placed upright and restored discreetly by masking the joins and filling in the missing parts. The restored areas are slightly recessed in relation to the original surface of the wall painting and thus obvious to the beholder. The painted surface is then cleaned of any adhesive that might have oozed through in the sticking together and reconstruction of the pieces, as well as of the dirt acquired during thousands of years' interment among the ruins. The missing sections of the representation may be restored, but this does not go beyond the simple outlines of the individual forms.
In all three major stages of the process of conservation and restoration of the Thera wall paintings constant collaboration between conservator and archaeologist is essential. The archaeologist provides the conservator with the evidence recorded in the excavation daybook, so that together they can comprehend as quickly as possible the subject of the representation and so accelerate the process of its reconstruction by searching for the right pieces. In those cases where the documentation was insufficient or lacking, or the collaboration between conservator and archaeologist was not close and full, conservation and restoration has been delayed for decades.
Usually the archaeologist's work is completed with the presentation of his finds to the public, specialist and lay. This presentation entails publishing the finds and exhibiting them in a museum. The presentation of the finds aims at remodelling as faithfully as possible the picture of the society that created and used them. In other words, the presentation of archaeological finds constitutes an attempt to interpret them, which is the archaeologist's most difficult and hazardous task because he tries, from a distance of thousands of years, to discover the significance each ancient artefact had for its creator and user and to reveal, through the material remains, concepts and beliefs, empirical scientific knowledge and technological achievements, and cognitive situations which he tries to make accessible and intelligible to modern man. The difficulties in achieving this are compounded by the fact that the scholar carries within him his own ideological arsenal, his own social and philosophical opinions, which for all his intended objectivity unconsciously influence his interpretative approach. For this reason it is of paramount importance to keep as close as possible to the excavation data, to the documentation made in the trench, when endeavouring to present/interpret the finds. The failure to do this has led, all too often, to interpretations which surpass even the bounds of logic. And what is even worse is that such arbitrary interpretations pass into the bibliography and are then used by those less familiar with the field as archaeological evidence. The history of archaeology abounds with such examples: the so-called battle-axe, an innocent Early Bronze Age tool, has been interpreted as an instrument designed to "crush skulls"! Hence, it was considered the miraculous weapon which enabled the mysterious 'Indo-Europeans' to conquer Europe! The so-called Minoan palaces, which on account of their size and grandeur were considered royal, have been used to construct a regal hierarchy with king, queen, princes, princesses, subjects called Minoans and so on. Knife marks on human bones were the pretext for constructing the myth of cannibalism in Minoan Crete, while the well known fairy tale of human sacrifice was generated by the interpretation of one skeleton as a victim of this rite, while another three skeletons in the same space were interpreted as victims of an earthquake.
If the interpretation of archaeological finds is the most slippery of the paths along which an archaeologist must pass, we can easily realise how slippery the interpretation of the Thera wall paintings is when this ignores the archaeological record, and ignores the contexts and finds made with them. The pictorial representations lend themselves to a variety of interpretations, depending on the standpoint from which they are approached and depending on the scholarly and ideological backgrounds of those who study them. And yet the architecture of the building, its use, its furniture and its equipment in general not only affect the thematic repertoire but are also affected by it. Consequently, they should not be neglected during the attempted interpretation.
As far as the interpretation of the wall paintings at Akrotiri is concerned, these data have as a rule been ignored. Christina Televantou's thesis on the wall paintings of the West House (Televantou 1994) is an exception, and her exhaustive scrutiny of the entries in the day books was rewarded. By analysing the excavation documentation - and collaborating with the conservators - she was able to reconstruct confidently the overall picture of the miniature frieze and 'discover' the other two towns. In almost all other cases the ignoring of the excavation data, obvious for one who knows the excavation, has led to reconstructions and interpretations that sometimes verge on the comical.
The trend inaugurated by S. Marinatos to ascribe a religious content to the Theran wall paintings willy-nilly has been followed devotedly by almost all scholars since. And yet at the time Marinatos died none of the buildings from which wall paintings had been recovered had been fully (sometimes not even properly) excavated, while the conservation and reconstruction of the wall paintings brought to light was very far from completion. We note by way of an aside that hundreds of square metres of wall paintings uncovered by Marinatos still await conservation. So on what criteria, on the basis of what data can we proceed to their interpretation?
I shall confine myself to just a few examples in order to show the pitfalls into which we can stumble by disregarding the archaeological data when interpreting the wall paintings.
The 'christening' of the young female found in Well 23 as a priestess, long before excavation of the actual building commenced, led Marinatos (1972, 43) to call this building the Sacred House and to interpret the barely visible niche in the south-west corner of the first floor as the niche for the cult statue. It was well nigh impossible to convince him after excavation of this area was finished that the niche was part af the lavatory installation (Doumas 1983, 49, 66, pls. 17-18). He gradually changed its characterisation to 'bathroom or shrine', then to 'bathroom-kitchen' and finally to 'bathroom', whilst renaming the building the West House, the name by which it is known today. Even so, the sacred/religious character of its wall paintings continues to be advocated, despite their archaeolagically documented publicatian. So the young girl continues to be called a priestess, even though her position on the door jamb next to the sanitary facility hardly justifies such an interpretation.
As a result of this obsession with the religious meaning of the wall paintings, it has been arbitrarily maintained that the north-east corner of Room 5 on the first floor of the West House was the house-hold shrine. So the pose of the two young men proudly displaying their strings of fish was interpreted as the artist's desire to depict them turned towards the 'shrine', that is towards the north-east corner af the room (Marinatos 1984, 37). A cursory glance at the plan of the room suffices to show that the artist had no other choice but to depict the figures in this way. He presented them facing towards the free space rather than like punished schoolboys with their their face turned to the wall (Televantou 1994, αναδ. σχ. 10)!
The House of the Ladies (Doumas 1983, 81; 1987, 245-254; 1990, 224-232; 1992a, 176-188; 1992b, 33-35) is one of the few buildings which has been excavated completely; only those parts where the state of the remains prevented it have not been investigated. In a strange way, the walls of the ground flooar have been literally crushed and the walls of the upper storey sit on top of their ruins. This situation makes it difficult to reconstruct the spaces of the house and the relationship between them. Thorough examination of the excavation evidence recorded in the day books is required to determine exactly from which storey the wall paintings found in the building came, whether they all decorated rooms of the same storey, the architectural form of the areas they decorated, the associated finds etc.. In this detective work, Annie Michailidou's work on the function of the upper storeys constitutes a valuable tool (Michailidou 1990; 1992). Only after these particulars have been clarified can a valid attempt at interpretatiaon be made. And yet, there are those who have not only endeavoured to seek the meaning and content of the wall paintings of the Ladies, but have even given us descriptions of the 'religious ritual' depicted (Marinatos 1984, 102-105)!
Despite the destruction suffered by Building Beta from the erosive action of the later torrent, Room Beta 1, on the first floor of which wall paintings were found, is quite well preserved (Marinatos 1971, 28-33; Doumas 1983, 78-79; 1992b, 109-110). However, because of the destruction it has not been possible to reconstruct the relationship of the room to the other areas of the building. Mudbrick partitions along the west and south side of Beta 1 created small storage spaces inside which various domestic vessels were found. The ground floor section of the room was also used for storage. The mural decoration of the room comprised the well known representation of six antelopes and the boxing boys. Despite the paucity of information available on the building, there is no lack of interpretative approaches to the wall paintings, especially the one of the boxing boys, often, indeed, disregarding the rest of the ensemble (S. Marinatos 1971, 49; N. MarinatOs 1984, 73-77). The context in which the wall painting of the monkeys from Room Beta 6 was found is more obscure, since the greater part of this room was washed away by the later torrent (Marinatos 1970, 34-35; Doumas 1983, 78-79; 1992b, 110-111). Yet, without difficulty, it has been ascribed a religious significance (Marinatos 1984, 112-116).
Also of interest from the point of view of interpretation is the wall painting of the lilies from Room 2 of Complex Delta (Marinatos 1971, 20-25; Doumas 1983, 79-81; 1992b, 99-100). Although the room was excavated carefully, the destruction of the areas in front of it due to the action of the torrent has prevented its correlation with these. We do know, however, that this ground floor room was the result of alterations made to block up a small staircase running the length of its north side. The redundant staircase was cut off by a mudbrick wall, while the narrow sotto scala was arranged as a little storeroom accessible via a small opening near the north-west corner of the room (Marinatos 1971, 24, col. pl. B:b; Doumas 1992b, 100-101, fig. 68). The room was decorated with wall paintings depicting a landscape with lilies and swallows after these alterations. Room Delta 2 yielded a host of domestic clay vases, metal objects, and furniture consisting of a bed and two stools. Domestic pottery was also found in the cubbyhole under the staircase. Despite this excavation picture, the wall painting has been ascribed a religious character and the room consequently interpreted as a shrine (S. Marinatos 1971, 49, 52; N. Marinatos 1984, 73-84). Indeed, a recent proposal speaks of performances of the epiphany of the deity (Polinger Foster 1995) - in a space barely 2 x 2 metres!
The only building, apart from the West House, for which the excavation evidence permits us to proceed, albeit tentatively, to an interpretation of the mural decoration is Xeste 3 (Doumas 1992b, 127-131; Marinatos 1984, 73-84). Even so, caution is the keynote until conservation and restoration of the wall paintings from it is complete. The size and architecture of the building, the arrangement of its partitioned areas, the imposing facades and the lack of domestic vessels such as pithoi, cooking pots and millstones, lead us to interpret it as a public building, possibly intended for assemblies. From the thematic repertoire of the wall paintings conserved to date (about one-third of the total), as well as the existence of the structure known from Cretan palatial architecture as a 'lustral basin', we suspect that these gatherings may also have been of ritual or religious character. Indeed, it is possible that some of the wall paintings depict scenes of initiation rites that were conducted in Xeste 3 (Doumas 1987; here, vol. II; Marinatos 1984, 80-81).
I considered it expedient to present the above examples, because it is impossible for me to understand any study of the Thera wall paintings divorced from the society that created and enjoyed them - something which is taken for granted in studying the work of later artists. And we can approach Theran society by studying the totality of archaeological data that the excavation offers us. Surprising as it may be, of the numerous scholars involved in studying the Theran wall paintings, only one, as far as I know, made the effort to consult the excavation day books (Televantou 1994). Little wonder there are arbitrary interpretations.
The foregoing remarks concerned the presentation/interpretation of the Thera wall paintings in the form of publication. There remains, however, their presentation and enhancement in the form of exhibition in a museum. In this case, too, the archaeological information accompanying them should be taken into account, because, as has been frequently maintained, the messages they emit about the society that created them are many and varied. Consequently, their presentation/exhibition cannot and should not be one-sided. It would be a mistake, for example, to display the wall paintings in the same way as pictures are displayed in art galleries all over the world, for such a presentation would eliminate a large, perhaps the largest, part of their messages.
In my opinion, they should be presented/exhibited in association with other finds from Akrotiri, in order to enhance diverse aspects of its society and culture. This is the position adopted in the proposal prepared regarding their future exhibition in a museum. This was, after all, the reason why the arrangement of the museum built to house the finds from Akrotiri was judged unsuitable. It was designed without taking into account the factors that define the importance and the significance of the wall paintings.
Ideally, the museum should be designed after the excavation of the buildings and the conservation of the wall paintings are finished. Its interior should be flexible, allowing the creation of spaces appropriate to the needs of exhibition/enhancement. In many cases, the wall paintings help us to reconstruct architectural features that have disappeared with the collapse of the buildings. Consequently, when they are exhibited this role should be made clear. To cite just one example, there is compelling evidence that the wall paintings which decorated the walls on each side of the grand staircase in Xeste 4, a procession of men in ascending course, continued up through three storeys (Doumas 1992b, 176; 1993, 172). It will be impossible to exhibit them in their full development in the existing museum building, even after the long delayed improvements now being made.
Hidden for millennia in a myriad fragments, patiently recovered, conserved and restored to their former glory, sources of facts and stimuli of fictions, the wall paintings of Thera seek a new home.
(1.) See extensive references throughout this volume.
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| Source: | "The Wall Paintings of Thera: Proceedings of the First International Symposium" Volume I |
| Proceedings of the First International Symposium, Petros M. Nomikos Conference Centre, Thera, Hellas. 30 August - 4 September 1997 | |
| Pages: | pp. 15 - 20 |
| Written by: | Christos G. Doumas |
| University of Athens | |
| Book information: | |
| ©The Thera Foundation - Petros M. Nomikos and The Thera Foundation | |
| ISBN: | 0960-86580-0-4 |
| Published by: | The Thera Foundation - Petros M. Nomikos and The Thera Foundation, 17-19 Akti Miaouli, GR 185 35 Piraeus, Greece. |
| Editor: | S. Sherratt |