The Parthenon

On a previous memoir that I wrote describing my weekend experience in Athens, I mentioned that my visit to the Parthenon merited a write-up of its own. I wanted to write about all of the ways I connected with this structure honoring an ancient culture which represented the power of the people but also how reflecting on its history could bring up memories of rivalry and love which would never be fully realized and only remembered for what it could have been. The Parthenon is a monument to remember not what it was but what it could have been.

It was a monument to Athena, to Athenians, to democracy, and in my opinion, it was a monument to love. Pericles loved his city of Athens. He commissioned the building of the Parthenon not only to honor Athena, as popularly thought, but as a tribute to the people of Athens; to honor the power of the people. Athens was a democratic city and is widely considered to be the cradle of democracy. After all, the word “democracy” is based on the Greek words “dēmos” (common people) and “kratos” (power).

The monument is also a reflection of rivalry. There was a rivalry between the two Greek gods, Athena and Poseidon, both of whom desired the city. The competition to settle who would lay claim to it was held on the rocky outcrop where the Parthenon was built. They both offered gifts. Poseidon struck a rock causing a geyser of salt water to gush out, but Athena offered an olive branch, which was received more favorably, because the olive branch is a promise of peace. Therefore, she laid claim to the city; hence the name “Athens.” Athena is the goddess of wisdom, intellect, war, and peace. She desires peace first but will wreck vengeful havoc on any who cross her. (She once turned an Athenian woman who boasted of her weaving skills into a spider!)

Later on, there was a rivalry between Athens and its neighboring Greek city-state, Sparta, incited by The Delian League, a financial organization that was supposed to be neutral, but a lot of its funds went toward Athenian projects. Eventually this rivalry lead to the Peloponnesian War, which Pericles died at the beginning of, and the full completion of the beloved Parthenon he had envisioned was never seen.

There is a lot of the unknown which comes to mind when observing and studying the Acropolis. Did Pericles use funds from The Delian League to build the Parthenon? Did he take from something that was not actually his or his city’s in order to sponsor this great project that would later be a credit to him and to his city? Was this monument, which was intended to be a tribute to democratic fair society, actually built in the beginning with misappropriated funds? Does it have its historical roots in corruption? Can we still admire what it meant to represent — democracy, strength, and power of the people — in spite of the possible corruption?

Millions of people go to visit the Parthenon every year. Why? Is it to admire a beautiful structure? It is not actually that beautiful of a structure. It might have been and most likely would have been, but right now it is faded and in decay and rubble. In all likelihood, it began with corruption and ended due to war. It is a monument that represents, in addition to aforementioned attributes, unfinished business. The people gave up and lost heart. It is an unfinished work of love.

A metaphorical allegory...

There was a woman with a love story inside of her that was left unfinished. Her own inner Parthenon. She once met a man who might have been her counterpoint. There was a stimulating rivalry between them with palpable tension. And then there was deception and betrayal and then eventually a cold war. Her rival, her Poseidon, walked away out of fear that he would lose the competition and when he could not have her, he tried to destroy her. He struck his trident and spewed a great torrent of distorted truths and outright lies into the community in which they both shared with the intent of drowning her reputation. His aim was to isolate her and effectually protect himself.

Now her temple is in shambles, half standing and half destroyed, but still there. It might’ve been spectacular. No one will come to gaze at her monument and say “I see what you might have been. I can imagine the possibilities. I know the truth, and I still think your story is beautiful. You are beautiful. You are Athena. Goddess of victory and wisdom and peace and gifts.” The spectators of this continuing battle do not know the truth: that she sought peace with her rival and if they could not have love, they could find compromise. He refused to settle for compromise and friendship and instead, he became her enemy. And unlike Athena, she was not able to win over the community of the city that she loved; the community that had at first welcomed her with hospitality and opportunity. It rejected her olive branch of peace and sincere goodwill in favor of his salty lies and manipulative charisma.

A monument is a memory. Love and hate are each built by memory, in small persistent ways. After our first vision of them, and with every subsequent encounter, the persons we care for become composite beings, altered by every interaction as it comes so that they really exist less in the present than in the past, and are embodiments not only of their own but also of our departed days: the nuances of them, from our perspective, are all the occasions, mostly lost in the past and perhaps forgotten, in which our lives were joined, however briefly. The person we love (or hate) now, isn’t the person they are in the present, but the person that they were then. If they walked away from a love that could have been spectacular, then all that is left is an unfinished monument in our hearts that no one visits but ourselves alone. It exists only in the memory of those who contributed to building it.

Athens

While studying abroad in Italy, I was determined to visit at least one other country nearby. Before departing the United States, I called my bank to put a travel alert on about half a dozen countries - Greece, Spain, France, Germany, Switzerland, Czech Republic - not knowing which ones I’d possibly have the opportunity to see. I ended up visiting Athens, Greece and Lugano, Switzerland. While Lugano was lovely (despite the rainy weather,) I have to say that my experience in Athens made more of an impact on me.

Before choosing Athens, I had been deep in study about the ancient civilizations of the Greeks, the Etruscans, and the Romans. I have long been intrigued by Greek culture, particularly of the Classical Age, because of my studies of philosophers such as Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates. While Rome is connected to my Italian ancestry, I learned how much Rome was influenced by the culture, art, and architecture of the Greeks, and even absorbed it into its own. I studied the timelines of Greece and the important events that occurred within each major age: the Bronze Age, the Heroic Age, the Archaic Period, and the Classical Period. I saw pictures of important ancient artifacts and sculptures, such as the Calf-Bearer and the Kritios Boy, the latter of which is significant as a transitional piece between the Archaic and Classical Periods. Both of these sculptures were contained at the Acropolis Museum in Athens. I wanted to see them for myself.

The night before flying out from Rome, I took a cab from my hostel to get my first look of the Colosseum. I felt sure that I would be coming back to Rome for a longer visit later but due to the unknown circumstances that life can bring, I wanted to seize the opportunity to get a quick look at it that night. I walked around its entirety, peeked through the gate to get a glimpse of the inside and as I laid my hand on its ancient stone, I promised myself I would be coming back.

My flight on Aegean Air was pleasant, and the view of the sparkling Aegean Sea outside of my window was stunning. As soon as I landed at the Athens airport, I took a shuttle to get to the neighborhood where my hotel, the Royal Olympic, was located. I walked past the entrance to the park which contained the Temple of Olympian Zeus and shortly after that, I saw the directional sign to the Acropolis. I quickened my stride so that I could get to my hotel sooner in order to drop off my bag and get to exploring.

My hotel, which I had gotten for an inexpensive online rate, was beautiful and elegant. I dropped my bag off in my room and immediately went back out to head towards the Acropolis. As I walked up the hill towards the ancient citadel, I passed some Jehovah's Witnesses. (I saw them in just about every major city I visited.) The two ladies were standing by a cart full of magazines and booklets. They made me think about the Apostle Paul from the Bible and his travels around Greece, including Athens. I imagined him in his ancient world, when the worship of different gods imbued every part of an active Greek's life, and how it must have taken him so much courage to persuade people to take notice of and worship Jehovah, the living God. I wondered if he might've stood near the same path that I was walking on, vigorously trying to talk to people as they were on their way to these great temples which are still visible today.

I also passed by vendors selling roasted chestnuts, corn, and other foods. It was the time of day when the sun was on the verge of setting so there was a rich golden glow on everything. One of the things that struck me the most was a unique scent which I could not place but was fascinated by. It was spicy and herbaceous and reminded me of incense. (I would find out later that it was a type of yellow flower which grew around the area at the base of the citadel hill.)

When I first caught sight of the Parthenon on top of the rocky outcrop which is the site of the Acropolis, my heart jumped and I felt a sudden tingle of excitement. (My experience at the Parthenon itself merited its own blog.) This place crackles with energy and overwhelms the senses. I walked up the meandering path surrounded by trees, shrubs, sandstone and marl, walking quickly with anticipation but slowly enough to absorb all of the sights, sounds, and smells. I arrived close to the top and stopped at the gate short of breath after the hike up.

Unfortunately, I had just missed the last admission, and they were not letting anyone else in due to time of closing. I was disappointed, but I knew I would be coming back the next morning and decided to continue to explore. I went back down the hill, bought a roasted corn on the cob off a grill from a vendor, and made my way to the Acropolis Museum to see some ancient works of art that had been found in and around the vicinity of the ancient wonder on top of that rocky hill. I saw pieces dating from the beginning of the Bronze Age to the Classical Age, including the Calf-Bearer and the Kritios Boy. I saw busts of the various Greek gods and goddesses of mythology: Athena, Poseidon, Dionysus and others. Those three are probably my favorites. I relate to Athena the most as she personifies victory, courage, the arts, literature and intellectual activity, and because she is represented by an olive tree and an owl. (I used to have a pet owl when I was younger, and I also love olives.) Poseidon is intriguing because he is the god of the sea and protector of water, and who wouldn't love the ultimate party god Dionysus, the good-natured purveyor of wine, theater and festivity? I probably spent three hours in the museum taking my time looking at and reading everything I could.

After visiting the museum, I went to have dinner at an outdoor bistro at the base of the Acropolis with my table in between a flaming fire and some green ivy. I sipped on crisp local white wine and made a silent toast to the glowing Parthenon on the hill, and after I finished my dolmadakia and grilled octopus, I decided to go take a little walk around Plaka, the oldest neighborhood in Athens.

Plaka is a charming maze of narrow streets, glowing lamps, and outdoor cafes at every turn. Sometimes I passed under a canopy of vines overhead which connected buildings on either side of the street. I browsed a shop that was being managed by a charismatic middle-aged man named Ares (like the god of war), and he taught me a trick for how to remember the Greek word for “thank you,” which is “efcharistó" pronounced “eff-carry-sto.” He told me to just think “eff, I can’t remember…” and that it might help. (It did!) I also learned and remembered how to write the word “city” in Greek (πόλη).

After a lively conversation with Ares (who also goes by the name of Harry), I bought some jewelry for my mom and sisters and started to make my way towards a little tavern frequented by the Plaka locals which Ares recommended, but I changed my mind when I realized it would be more challenging than I’d thought it would be to find it, and it was starting to rain. I turned back and settled at a tavern outside underneath some trees with a little water garden next to it and had some chilled ouzo, then a baklava, and finally an espresso as I listened to ambient Greek music. A calico cat with a big fluffy tail climbed out of a tree nearby and scampered past me. (A tip to keep in mind: chilled ouzo is better recommended as an aperitif to have BEFORE dinner, preferably something that is seafood. I knew about that but preferred wine at the time.)

On the way out of Plaka, I stopped at the gate of the Temple of Zeus and reflected in tranquil solitude at those ancient ruins. When I got back to my hotel, I went up to the rooftop garden and spent the rest of my night sitting by a roaring fireplace drinking two snifter glasses of Metaxa (a Greek spirit of brandy blended with natural flavors and muscat wine from the Aegean Islands) and gazed out at the rain, alternating my view between the softly lit ruins of the Temple of Zeus just outside to my right and the mysterious Parthenon on the hill (which I still had to look forward to visiting the next morning) on my left. After going up to my room and taking a hot bath (my first in more than a month after sharing a community shower with lukewarm water at my apartment in Siena), I sat naked outside on my tiny private balcony, privately surveying the city lights and traffic below me while I thought about the experiences I'd had so far. I had walked the paths of ancient Greeks and connected on a deeply personal level with this city that had contributed so much to world culture. It was one of the most sensory and profound weekends I’d had in a long time; maybe one of the best in my life.

Efcharistó, Athens.

The Parthenon!

Dionysus Theater

Temple of Athena

These smelled like spicy herbaceous incense all around the Acropolis.

Roasted corn...nom nom nom

Outside Dionysus Theater

One of the most important sculptures:  The Kritios Boy

Met a local Greek named Ares (aka Harry)

Greek dinner at a tavern below the Acropolis

Baklava and espresso

Chilled ouzo after dinner

Walking around Plaka, oldest quarter in Athens

A snifter of Metaxa, a Greek liqueur similar to brandy

Religious vs. Temporal Institutions: History of Santa Maria della Scala Hospital

One of the most important establishments to visit in Siena is Santa Maria della Scala, once an ancient hospital and one of the oldest in Europe. The history of the hospital is certainly one of “hospitality”: the institution not only cared for the sick but also for the poor, for abandoned children, and for traveling pilgrims needing a place to stay. The hospital was also a storage place for food in the city of Siena, and currently it houses important art from medieval artists which are available for the public to go and view. By looking at these works of art, for instance Birth of the Virgin by Pietro Lorenzetti and Betrothal of the Virgin by Simone Martini which depict religious scenes, one can get a sense of the religious institution’s influence over the hospital at the time which also impacted Christian culture for a long time after with the exception of Jehovah’s Witnesses and other evangelists. The hospital has a complicated history of being in between the spiritual and temporal institutions both of which vied for control of this establishment.

Ancient hospitals were often used to house foreigners. Santa Maria della Scala was well known during medieval times for housing pilgrims. In Siena, this was due to two reasons: 1) It was geographical. Siena was on the route for Christian pilgrimages on the way to visit the “holy land.” The route was London-Westminster Abbey to Paris to Luca to Siena and then to Rome. 2) In the 1300s, Pope Boniface established holy land (in Rome) which helped the institution of the hospital. By curing the pilgrim, it was considered to be the same as curing Christ. So in a sense, they were helping themselves by helping the pilgrim who was viewed as a “poor Christ.” By the 16th century, the pilgrim is seen as just a person who wanders and not a normal person.

Santa Maria della Scala was at the center of economy. The hospital acquired wealth due to 1) the dean of the hospital and people who worked in the hospital administration, and 2) everyone had to give responsibilities to the hospital, including inheritances. The same thing happened to the monasteries. This turned out useful when the food shortages came. The city forced the hospital to sell food at certain prices. The hospital received its primary financial assistance from the donations of the wealthy (Baron).

Other duties of the hospital were to take care of abandoned children. Families were actually encouraged to give their children to the hospital due to social and economic reasons. The year during which the last child was recorded to have been abandoned was 1889. Girls in the countryside were paid to breastfeed the children. Then the children returned and were trained to work in artisan shops. Children (girls) were also sent to the hospital to work on textiles. The hospital would give money to the girls so they could get married. In Siena (and other cities), abandoned children would take the surname of the hospital (“della Scala.”)

“Della Scala” didn’t appear until around the 14th century. It is a fashion to describe the narrative of the changing of the times. At the time, the concept was to be complete. So when things were lacking, there were fantasies of the completion of things. It helps to picture life within the hospital. In the 15th century, there was a moment when the administration of the hospital fell into the administration of the city. A bishop tried to extend spiritual assistance into the hospital. The city did not want influence from the church and therefore the hospital became autonomous. In the 18th century, during the Enlightenment, there were radical changes in how people began to see medicine. At Santa Maria della Scala, there were different medical cultures. It was one of the first places to try a medical vaccine: inserted small pox vaccine.

For the purposes of analyzing a civic institution which benefits a fundamentally diverse public, such as a non-profit religious hospital, Santa Maria della Scala is an interesting early example of both the benefits and controversy of not having separation of church and state. As shown by previous examples in this essay, the philanthropic mission of Santa Maria della Scala was to provide hospitality to the poor and needy as well as to further the advancement of medical technology. The emperor of the 15th century was astonished by the technology available to help sick people at Santa Maria della Scala.

The world’s largest non-government provider of medical and healthcare services is the Roman Catholic Church which has some 18,000 clinics, 16,000 homes for the elderly and those with special needs, and 5,500 hospitals, with 65 percent of them located in developing countries (Agnew). There is no doubt that millions of people around the world since ancient times have benefited from these medical institutions with Santa Maria della Scala hospital being one of the earlier examples. However, there also controversial issues which arise from a powerful religious organization having control over a medical institution providing care to a complex and diverse community with fundamentally different views, beliefs, and values.

At the beginning, charity and healing were the priorities of the institutions but with the influence of the Church, medical advances and progress had to subordinate to the doctrines and dictates of the religious order. For example, because of the sanctity of life views of the Catholic Church, in vitro fertilization (IVF), which is used to treat genetic problems and assist with conception, is a controversial issue due to the series of complex procedures which destroy embryos. In 2012, President Obama received scrutiny due to his announcement that his administration would require religious institutions like hospitals and universities to provide coverage for contraceptives in employee health plans. Obama’s mandate would not have required employers at houses of worship to provide their employees with contraceptives, but his announcement sparked a firestorm in different religious communities, pitting freedom of religion against the separation of church and state. Obama has since said that he and his advisers are looking for ways to make the new requirements “more palatable” to religious institutions (O’Claire).

When evaluating the history and evolvement of Santa Maria della Scala from a religious establishment to a public institution independent from the Church, one can use it as a model to analyze against current medical institutions with religious leadership to see how the institutions can be leaders in medical advancement and philanthropy but also as a hindrance to medical progress if subdued by religious influence. On the flip side, there are also foreseeable problems when the federal government or state forces laws on someone trying to abide by spiritual principles, for instance, if a doctor or nurse is forced to perform an abortion or blood transfusion which transgresses against their deeply held beliefs due to a spiritually cultivated and trained conscience regarding the sanctity and value of human life.

Works Cited

Baron, J. H. "The Hospital of Santa Maria della Scala, Siena, 1090-1990." BMJ 301 (1990): 1449-1451

O’Claire, Sandra. “Should Catholic and Other Religious Institutions Have to Cover Birth Control?” U.S. News. 9 February 2012. Web.

Agnew, John. "Deus Vult: The Geopolitics of Catholic Church". Geopolitics. 12 February 2010. Web.

The Etruscans: Challenging the Perception of Gender Parity in an Ancient Civilization

Imagine you are at a party. A sumptuous feast is set out with a table piled high of almost every kind of meat you could want to taste: beef, lamb, pork, deer, wild boar, hare, and all sorts of game birds. There is a great variety of seafood as well, especially tuna, accompanied by enormous rounds of sheep’s milk cheese, vegetables, fruit, olives, porridge, bread pancakes, eggs, raisins and nuts. To further enhance the flavors, condiments of herbs, mint, honey, vinegar, pepper, and other spices are added. The people you are among happen to belong to a society which is a great exporter of wine, so there is no shortage in that department either, and domestic servants keep it flowing by continuously bringing the intoxicating burgundy-hued liquid to you in delicate silver pitchers. To keep the mood of the gathering uplifted, you hear the lively and delicate tune of the flute accompanied perhaps by the lyre, a small stringed instrument.

As you make your way around the room, you observe the other dinner party attendees, all of whom are in groups, with no one being alone. They are not sitting upright in chairs at a long elegant table but, rather, they are reclining on one-armed sofas. Some are even on floor mats surrounded by plush luxuriantly designed pillows. The men wear Greek-style tunics with complicated braided hairstyles. The hairstyles of the women are similar but with the addition of elaborate gold adornments and sparkling bold jewelry which compliments their brightly colored attire.

Your eye is drawn to one corner of the room where there is a couple sitting on a sofa. A woman sips heartily from a goblet of wine, tosses her head back with a boisterous laugh as she settles languorously against the gentleman next to her, her left breast slightly exposed and just caressing the right side of his chest. As you become more engaged and conversational with your fellow guests, you realize that this couple is not married! In fact, the woman’s husband is very close by, appearing to be equally relaxed and enjoying himself with other guests. In this gathering, there is nothing that is unseemly or taboo about the scene here.

Who is this woman? And who are these people? As you have probably guessed, you are being entertained at the home of someone belonging to an ancient civilization. The civilization is that of the Etruscans.

Etruscan Women

Preceding the rise of Rome as a super power, the entirety of Italy was ruled by the Etruscans. The surrounding seas were dominated by their ships. Their reputation was fearsome enough, as word of them spread abroad to other nations, without the added uneasiness of hearing how Etruscan society accorded women with influence and power.

There is little to be known about the Etruscans. Once they were conquered by the Romans, much of what was left of their civilization was lost, with none of their literature surviving. Archaeologists and historians have pieced together what Etruscan life was like by interpreting the vivid art that was left on their pottery, which illustrated depictions of elite Etruscans dining on top of the sarcophagi of dead loved ones, and there were also scenes of women drinking and sharing repast with the men - something that was rarely seen in ancient Greek and later Roman society. Only courtesans and prostitutes would be at a party among Greeks and Romans, and proper women in those societies would not be drinking wine, at least not until Rome was an empire. Yet, not only were Etruscan women expert drinkers, they freely imbibed right alongside the men.

The gender parity that existed between Etruscan men and women is probably what stands out most about what is known of their civilization. Etruscan women “scandalously” went out publicly, were able to read and write, and likely passed these dire habits on to their offspring (which they raised themselves). It was not uncommon for Etruscan women to be seen naked - at parties, at athletic events (which they participated in) - and even to share sexual experiences with partners who were not their husbands. They freely engaged in wining and dining publicly with their husbands and were actually elevated to higher social status for doing so. There are sculptured sarcophagi that show couples reclining together, affectionate and relaxed, the woman speaking and gesturing while the man placidly looks on. Murals also show women reclining or dancing amidst the men. They show female camaraderie and intimacy, notably in one painting that shows women who lay together, faces close as if kissing.

To share wives was an established Etruscan custom. Etruscan women took particular care of their bodies and exercised often, sometimes along with the men, and sometimes by themselves. Pitch tar was used to remove excess hair from their bodies. It was not a disgrace for them to be seen naked but rather, it was common. They did not share their couches only with their husbands but also with the other men who happened to be present, and they proposed toasts to anyone whom they chose to.

As mentioned previously, Etruscan women raised their own children and other children, regardless of who the father might have been, but more than that, archaeology suggests that there may have been matronymic lines in that the ancestry could be traced back to the maternal lineage rather than the paternal, based on certain inscriptions. Sometimes the father’s surname was added to the mother’s, which indicated a bilateral system which recognized matrilineal connections.

Women’s roles in the Etruscan-Roman relationship

One of the key female figures in ancient early Roman history is that of Tanaquil, the daughter of a powerful Etruscan family in Etruria and wife to Lucius Tarquin, the first Etruscan king of Rome. She was rumored to have prophetic abilities (something that nowadays might be considered to be female intuition) that persuaded her husband to move to Rome and become established with the local aristocracy, despite being an immigrant. While traveling to Rome, an eagle flew from Tarquin’s head and then returned back, which Tanaquil interpreted to be a divine sign that he was meant to be king. Her prophecy was eventually realized when Tarquin became friends with King Ancus Marcius, who made Tarquin the guardian of his children. When the king died before his children were old enough to become successors, Tarquin gained enough popularity to be elected as the fifth king of Rome. Tanaquil later used her influence again to play a role in the rise of the sixth king, Servius Tullius, whom she raised as her own child.

Due to her legendary status in early Etruscan-Roman politics, Tanaquil was respected and remembered favorably by Romans who elevated her to mythological status and changed her name in the history books to Caia Caecilia. It even became Roman public decree that when a new bride entered into a royal palace, she would go by the name “Gaia” if asked. This was meant to be an omen of frugality and simple living for women of that time period.

What was lost?

Once the Romans grew dissatisfied with Etruscan rule, the Tarquins were expelled from the city, and Romans began to establish a Republic just as their Etruscan counterparts were doing throughout the rest of Italy. This overthrow marked the beginning of the end of Etruscan rule in southern Italy. First they lost the routes to the cities leading to fertile land in the region of Campania, which was tolerable, but once they lost their naval strongholds, it was all but over. Following the destruction of their navy along with hostilities from all sides and internal struggles, the Etruscan city-states were conquered one by one and eventually fell to Rome. The Romans assimilated parts of Etruscan culture and discarded the rest.

One of the cultural aspects that was lost in relation to Etruscan women when the transition of power was passed to Rome was the freedom and social status of women. While Etruscan women did not have especially significant roles in initiating political changes in their society (Tanaquil being one of the historical exceptions), the Etruscan women had a lot more freedom to interact with their husbands and other men in public, attending parties and such, whereas Greek and Roman women did not. One thing to keep in mind, based on what is read and one’s own personal perception, is that much of the art depicted on the ancient archaeological findings of Etruscan pottery is that of wealthy elite-class Etruscan women. It is unknown what life was like for more lower-class Etruscan women and how much freedom they might have had.

Contrasting current perceptions of female-assigned gender roles

One thing that is striking when reading about ancient Etruscan women is how they were perceived by ancient chroniclers who were accustomed to how much more subordinated Greek and Latin women were in contrast to their Etruscan counterparts. Having the freedom to participate actively at parties while dressed in colorful eye-catching clothes and elaborate adornments, they were looked upon as “licentious” for doing so, whereas in their own society they were respected. Earlier Greeks left personal testimony for later Greeks to base their own perceptions and when reading these subjective eyewitness accounts, one could almost detect a hint of envy mixed in with an air of judgment. When considering these ancient comparisons of how women could be labeled based on personal perception and cultural relevancy, it brings to mind that similar contrasts could be done today.

A good visual example to consider would be that of a photo capturing Prince William and his wife Kate Middleton being greeted by topless women when they visited the Solomon Islands in 2012. In their own local culture, nothing about these women addressing the British royal couple in this way would be perceived as inappropriate and yet, as a guest, it is interesting to note that Kate Middleton did not assimilate to the local culture and appear topless herself; she is fully covered in a blue dress. On the other hand, if one of these local women of the Solomon Islands appeared topless on a street in London, there would likely be more scrutiny and disapproval, if not outrage.

Another and more recent example to contrast, specifically regarding gender parity in politics and business, would be that of Hilary Clinton, the primary Democratic candidate for the 2016 Presidential election. In comparison to Donald Trump, who was captured on audio making inappropriate statements about women, which was ultimately dismissed by many of his supporters as something that was “in the past,” Clinton herself was not given such a pass for the discovery that she had used a private server for emails even though it was never proven that she committed anything treasonous. The burden of proof was shifted to her to prove her innocence to the public during this political witch hunt, rather than the other way around - burden of proof shifting to those accusing her of guilt - which is supposed to be the maxim upheld in American justice. It would seem that the public perception of her being “dishonest” and “manipulative” were assigned more to her as a woman than the same accusations that were applied to Donald Trump and yet, he was rewarded in this political narrative whereas she was punished.

A final example to look at is that of Wendi Deng, a Chinese-American actress, producer, and businesswoman. She was formerly married to media titan, Rupert Murdoch, CEO of News Corporation, and has more recently been rumored to be the girlfriend of Vladimir Putin, the President of the Russian Federation. She has a history of seducing older married men with the opinion that it was in order to increase her social strata, which has caused some to look at her as a “gold-digger” and social climber; even gaining her labels such as “glorified escort” and more. Yet, she has a professional résumé that would credit her as an executive who increased the presence and investments of NewsCorp in China, among other impressive professional ventures. Even still, for anyone who is vaguely familiar with who Wendi Deng is, it is suspected that they are more likely to associate her for her latent connections to high-profile men rather than on the merit of her own accomplishments without doing further digging.

Conclusion

In the current parlance of our times with feminism, sexuality, and women’s rights being dominant issues in the foreground of sociopolitical discourses, I believe that the Etruscan society, especially regarding the role of women, merits consideration. Aside from being a fascinating civilization, it provides a comparative lens for which to do analysis with our contemporary cultural relevancy. If not much else is known about the Etruscans, it is apparent that women were not only respected and encouraged to pursue social freedoms, they were considered equals. It is not only a feature, but a central narrative which dominates the illustrations of ancient Etruscan artifact.

Style and Art: A Textual Analysis

A common theme that has come up as I have been observing and learning more about art history while in Siena is that of style. A style is something that an artist may use to convey an emotion, a particular allegory, the period of time a work was created, and even to portray their own perspective of a possible truth. And that is what has been interesting to me about some of these works of art: it is not so much the insistence of a particular truth but the possibilities of what truths could be.
In Perseus in the Wind, Freya Stark connects style and truth together when she observes that “style is fundamentally a truthful statement, if we take for truth something more careful than the not telling of a lie. There are layers and layers of truth; and style, whether in dress or life, art or literature is involved in their discovery” (81).

My personal discovery while studying this art, particularly the gothic art of the Medieval period which is almost entirely religious art, is that with the style of the artist, the iconography was made to represent and persuade the viewer of perceived (even imagined) truths...and the artist was powerful because of this, even held responsible by the Church depending on the style the artist used. As the views, understandings, and teachings of the Church changed over time, so did the style of the art.

For instance, there are multiple versions of The Annunciation - a depiction of the angel Gabriel informing the young virgin Mary that she would become the mother of Jesus Christ. There are three paintings from different time periods ranging from Middle Age to High Renaissance to Late Renaissance that I observed and compared. Perhaps three of the most famous paintings of this particular theme are the ones created by Simone Martini, an artist of the Medieval Era, and later the one painted by Leonardo Da Vinci, at the peak of the Renaissance Age - both of whose paintings can be seen at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy - and lastly the one painted by Giorgio Vasari of the Late Renaissance Age, whose painting can be seen at The Louvre in Paris, France.

The painting of The Annunciation by Simone Martini, created in 1333, depicts the virgin Mary as very closed off. She is leaning away from the visiting angel, her back towards him, and she is guarding herself with her right arm. Her face looks grim, and she appears scared. She is also wearing a dark blue robe with only a small bit of fabric from the red dress she is wearing underneath peeking out. This is in keeping with the Church discouraging, or outright forbidding, artists from depicting the Virgin Mary wearing crimson, which was considered the color of harlots. It is also evidence of a slight progression in how this theme was illustrated when compared to much earlier works of art of the same theme, in which the virgin was shown wearing all blue and no red at all (for instance, The Virgin and Child, currently on display in Saint Catherine’s Monastery, which was painted in the year 600.) She is also shown to be looking more regal with gold trimming around the hems of her robe and gown and a golden jewel-encrusted head adornment that appears to be a crown.

Moving further along in time by almost 150 years, the Annunciation by Leonardo Da Vinci was painted in 1472 at the height of the Renaissance Age. The mood and style of this painting is somewhat different from Martini’s. It shows Mary in an open receptive position; she is facing the angel, her hand is held upward and away from her body, and her face appears softer. She is also shown with more of her red dress appearing from under the blue outer robe she wears, and her clothing is less regal than that seen in Martini’s painting.

The final painting in this analysis of the Annunciation, created by Giorgio Vasari around 1565 during the Late Renaissance, shows an even more open and receptive depiction of the virgin and the visiting angel. He is closer to her than as seen in the two earlier aforementioned paintings, and she is wearing a red dress with no blue at all. She also appears to be very humble and simply dressed with no gold in her adornment.

I found it to be an interesting discovery and analysis of how the perception of truth can be influenced and even altered according to the style of an artist during a particular age. During the Medieval Age, when artists were influenced more by the Catholic Church, the style was to show the interaction of the virgin and angel as more stern, austere, and guarded with the virgin wearing little to no red. During the Renaissance, which was guided more by individualism than the Church, the theme is softer, more open, and she is wearing more red.

During a recent visit to the Santa Maria della Scala hospital in Siena, Italy, I saw an exhibit of what is considered to be a relic of the fabric that Mary wore, and it was red. Whether it’s true that this was actually a piece of her garment or whether it was sensationalized due to the “business” of relics and how important they were to a particular city in luring others to make a pilgrimage, I am not sure. However, I found this to be a notable observance informing my analysis which synthesizes with the statement Freya Stark made about style and truth perceived from art.

Simone Martini, 1333.

Leonardo da Vinci, 1472.

Giorgio Vasari, 1565.

Travel History - Being an American in Europe

I woke up one morning with the rueful thought that I had slept too late, even though I was the first in bed and the first to rise after a Friday night of sharing rum with my fellow colleagues who were celebrating a successful completion of week 2 in Siena, Italy. We had a plan to make an excursion to one of the nearby Tuscan villages - Monteriggioni or San Gimignano. That, of course, didn’t happen. I had considered hopping on a bus by myself to Chianti, perhaps, but remembering the admonishment of my boyfriend to not become the “outlier” in the group, I decided instead to go for a late morning walk around Siena.

Strolling up San Caterina, I passed a coffee bar with amazing pastries in the window - millefoglie glassata, bombolone alla panna, bignè chantilly - and almost went in when I noticed a cluster of men chatting in boisterous Italian to the baristas. I turned and continued walking until I found a smaller less populated coffee and pastry bar to step into. This has happened multiple times since I have been here in Siena. Why do I have this timidity about going into a more crowded shop? I’m not a particularly shy person. And I’m not so concerned about being misunderstood and unable to order. It’s fairly apparent that people around here can communicate in English.

I’m realizing that I have developed somewhat of a phobia about being identified as “American.” 

I’m trying to understand why this is. It’s not because of the current political landscape in the U.S., and it isn’t due to the results of the recent presidential election. I do not consider myself to be an American apologist. And our host professor, Luca, of the Dante Aligheri Institute I’m studying at, told us that Italians (particularly the young people) still think America - at least for now - is “cool.” They are amazed that we have such diverse culture all existing in the same country, even in the same cities and neighborhoods. You would think I’d be glad to flaunt my “American-ness” proudly. But I’m not. I want to dress European, speak as they do, order coffee the way they do, and not commit any social faux pas.

I’m trying to remember when I first started to feel this way. I recognized it while I was in France more than 6 months ago with a larger group. I felt self-conscious when we would walk into restaurants talking and laughing loudly. Was it because our instructors who led our orientation told us over and over how Americans are perceived by Europeans? Loud, colorful, flamboyant, arrogant…ignorant. I would feel flustered seeing members of our group take up center space on the metro, crowding others out, or blocking the doorways and then actually getting annoyed when a local would brush past them uttering a terse “excusez-moi.” A friend and fellow colleague I was traveling with said “Rumors are true. French people are rude.” Are they? Were they actually annoyed with us or was it that they were simply more in a hurry than us? (And to be fair, the train doors shut very rapidly at stops.)

I have observed in reticence some similar situations here while in Italy, though to much more subtle degrees. For one thing, we have not had to get on and off trains as much, and our group is a lot smaller. We also tend to migrate around the city independently in groups of 2 or 3 (or in my case, just 1), as opposed to being a mini-mob of 14 pushing through the crowded thoroughfares of Paris like a bulldozer on legs.

Referring back to my timidity about entering the coffee bars, I feel sure that a lot of it has to do with my not yet reaching a fluent proficiency in Italian. I feel deeply that to assimilate into and ultimately enjoy a host country’s culture, it behooves one to know at least the basics of the local language. Being able to understand and speak the language actually makes me appreciate the food more, as well as the sights and sounds and smells.

As such, I have been striving every day to learn Italian as quickly as possible. I practice on Duolingo every day and have passed multiple lessons and tests with the goal of reaching at least 50% fluency. I’ve watched several popular American movies in Italian audio and captioned with English. I want to make sure that I’m learning it to enhance my enjoyment not just as a challenge to be met. I am also going to task myself with relaxing about being American. After all, it is a cultural exchange. They are curious about me as much as I am curious about them (if that isn’t an arrogantly American thing to assume.)

When I was in England in 2006 studying at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, I was self-conscious about my Southern accent. I listened with a keen ear to the various dialects that were cultivated from all over England - London, Manchester, Leeds, Liverpool - and tried to make mine a little more subtle, if not neutral. Then one day, a group of English students at RADA crowded around me and told me they loved my accent that to them sounded “like a fairytale.” This was in contrast to the few American students I met who were also at the school who had studied theatre in NYC. When they imitated my accent, they would exaggerate it to sound more “country.” When the Brits tried to copy my accent (with a slightly more elegant take), I felt like I must sound like Scarlett O’Hara to them, but when the New Yorkers did it, I was a caricature of Larry the Cable Guy (which basically made me a caricature of a caricature.)

When I reflect on all of these experiences in combination with reading the musings of other travel writers, I am beginning to realize that perhaps it is not entirely Europeans who make Americans embarrassed about being American, but it is other Americans making Americans feel embarrassed about being Americans. (Try saying that a few times really fast.)

As I continue my experiences and travels, I want to be conscious that while I am enjoying the opportunity to learn about other cultures, dialects, languages and customs, I will not let my appreciation be hampered by American self-consciousness, nor will I let it affect my fellow travelers. For each person, these experiences are sensory and palpable in a unique individual way.

I am also developing more cognizance about what it means to be a “world traveler” versus a “tourist,” why there seems to be a condescending perception attached to the latter, and if there is a bit of elitism (perhaps even an overuse) of the former term. I plan for a discussion of this topic to make it into a future blog.

First week in Italy

Bongiorno!

Well, one lifetime dream is coming true - I am living (albeit temporarily) and studying in the heart of beautiful Tuscany in a little walled town called Siena, where there bares an inscription on the exterior arch: "Cor magis tibi Sena pandit" ("Siena shows a heart that is bigger than this gate.")

I have felt it.

I felt it when I first got off the bus and was greeted by my professor, Jane Rago, who also shares family ancestry in Italy and longs to connect with the country of origin of her grandparents. (Hers are from Naples and mine are from the same region of Campania, province of Naples, from two small neighboring towns called Boscoreale ("royal forest") and Boscotrecase ("three houses in a forest.")

Stepping back a day or two, I guess you could say my first introduction to Italy was actually when I landed in Rome and got to exchange some Italian phrases, have a cup of cappuccino (Italian style!) and briefly experienced the city that was once the center of the most powerful empire on earth and may well have been the most powerful one of all time. (Certainly the longest lasting.) I had a relatively comfortable, though exhausting, flight from Savannah, Georgia, to JFK, New York, to Lisbon, Portugal, and finally to Rome. It caused me to reflect: What is a "world traveler?" Is it someone who collects stamps on a passport or collects digital stamps by capturing the geo-location with GPS so they can have it proven they "were there" on their Instagram? Is it to be able to say "Je voudrais un café" in France or "Vorrei un caffe" in Italy with a certain amount of savoir faire and confidence? Can you pass for a sophisticated European traveler and not just another American tourist if you are at least wearing a sexy stylish trench coat with a nifty scarf?

As far as dining goes, hopefully you can get by ok without having traditional bacon and eggs for breakfast, because that is something you just won't see often in Italy, with the exception of the touristy areas. Most local Italians forego having breakfast and usually start their day with an espresso and a cigarette, but a simple carb like a cornetto (Italian type of croissant) or other pastry to go with your cappuccino is totally acceptable. The balance to having pastries every morning is that you will be walking everywhere around the city, up and down hills and stairs, so bring on the panforte! (Siena's signature spice cake!)


" in Italy or "Je voudrais un café" cappuccino in France with a certain amount of confidence and savoir-faire? (Even if the locals can spot you as an American a half-mile away no matter how smart you look in your trenchcoat.) I Feel That These easy assimilations would do well enough if one only has a few days (as a "tourist" ) but in order to really absorb cultures ... the rhythm of a city or even a country ... it would a disservice to oneself not to stay as long as they can, if they have the opportunityI have just completed the first of twelve weeks That I will be a temporary citizen (not traveler, not tourist, but CITIZEN) of Siena. I have had many micro-impressions, and I am Already kicking myself for not keeping up with my daily journal (Which I will catch up with later) to capture These various interactions. For now, let me say That as inscribed by the greeting on the entry archway, Siena does indeed reflect a heart. Not just in spirit but quite figuratively as well with the Piazza del Campo being the beating pulse exit ramps from Which the edges of the Field like atriums leading to wide thoroughfare streets like arteries, Which leads to narrower streets and corridors That are like capillaries - all avenues to deliver people to sustain the city - feeding it with cultures exchange of ideas, promoting the local II
I already feel like 12 weeks are going to go by too fast. It has been occurring to me this week that several months is the bare minimum one needs to really delve into the local language, the rhythm, the nuances, the personality, the spirit, and the customs of a foreign city. Even if it is just to figure out why local baristas might give you a funny look if you order a cappuccino or large caffe latte (not plain "latte" or you'll just get a glass of hot milk) at noon! If you would rather not scare the local Italians, just trust me...don't do it. Your sexy trench coat will not save you. You'll still look totally American. If you must have a coffee with milk and simply can not get up before 10 a.m., then order a caffe macchiato...basically an espresso with a spotted bits of foamed milk which is very little like the kind you get in America. (None of that viscous caramel syrup you've gotten used to, if you please...darn you, Starbucks!!)