The Parthenon sculptures in the British Museum are unrivaled examples of classical Greek art, an inspiration to artists and writers since their creation in the fifth century bce. A superb visual introduction to these wonders of antiquity, this book offers a photographic tour of the most famous of the surviving sculptures from ancient Greece, viewed within their cultural and art-historical context. Ian Jenkins offers an account of the history of the Parthenon and its architectural refinements. He introduces the sculptures as architecture--pediments, metopes, Ionic frieze--and provides an overview of their subject matter and possible meaning for the people of ancient Athens. Accompanying photographs focus on the pediment sculptures that filled the triangular gables at each end of the temple; the metopes that crowned the architrave surmounting the outer columns; and the frieze that ran around the four sides of the building, inside the colonnade. Comparative images, showing the sculptures in full and fine detail, bring out particular features of design and help to contrast Greek ideas with those of other cultures. The book further reflects on how, over 2,500 years, the cultural identity of the Parthenon sculptures has changed. In particular, Jenkins expands on the irony of our intimate knowledge and appreciation of the sculptures--a relationship far more intense than that experienced by their ancient, intended spectators--as they have been transformed from architectural ornaments into objects of art.
The biggest question in the world of art and culture concerns the return of property taken without consent. Throughout history, conquerors or colonial masters have taken artefacts from subjugated peoples, who now want them returned from museums and private collections in Europe and the USA. The controversy rages on over the Elgin Marbles, and has been given immediacy by figures such as France's President Macron, who says he will order French museums to return hundreds of artworks acquired by force or fraud in Africa, and by British opposition leader Jeremy Corbyn, who has pledged that a Labour government would return the Elgin Marbles to Greece. Elsewhere, there is a debate in Belgium about whether the Africa Museum, newly opened with 120,000 items acquired mainly by armed forces in the Congo, should close. Although there is an international convention dated 1970 that deals with the restoration of artefacts stolen since that time, there is no agreement on the rules of law or ethics which should govern the fate of objects forcefully or lawlessly acquired in previous centuries. Who Owns History? delves into the crucial debate over the Elgin Marbles, but also offers a system for the return of cultural property based on human rights law principles that are being developed by the courts. It is not a legal text, but rather an examination of how the past can be experienced by everyone, as well as by the people of the country of origin.
The Shefton Collection in Newcastle upon Tyne contains a fine array of Greek and Etruscan objects and takes its name from its founder Professor Brian Shefton (1919 – 2012). In spite of the importance of this collection it has not been widely published and remains something of a hidden gem. Brian Shefton was an insightful collector, as well as a distinguished scholar of Greek and Etruscan archaeology, and the 14 papers presented here reflect the broad scope of the collection; ranging across pottery, jewelery, terracottas and metalwork. The contributions, written by leading experts in the field, focus on specific objects or groups of objects in the Collection, providing new interpretations and bringing previously unpublished items to light. The history of the Shefton Collection is explored. Together these contributions provide a tribute to a remarkable individual who made a substantial and notable contribution to his discipline.
Oxbow says: This book's author does not shy away from expressing her opinions on the destruction of ancient sites in Greece and her belief that the Elgin Marbles are best left in the care of the British Museum, or at least for the time being.
The Elgin Marbles, designed and executed by Phidias to adorn the Parthenon, are some of the most beautiful sculptures of ancient Greece. In 1801 Lord Elgin, then British ambassador to the Turkish government in Athens, had pieces of the frieze sawn off and removed to Britain, where they remain, igniting a storm of controversy which has continued to the present day. In the first full-length work on this fiercely debated issue, Christopher Hitchens recounts the history of these precious sculptures and forcefully makes the case for their return to Greece. Drawing out the artistic, moral, legal and political perspectives of the argument, Hitchens's eloquent prose makes The Elgin Marbles an invaluable contribution to one of the most important cultural controversies of our times.
Although many books focus on the fascinating story of Heinrich Schliemann, little has been written on Mycenae before his excavations. This book, therefore, fills this gap. It looks at the English-speaking pioneers who visited the citadel at Mycenae before Schliemann, providing additional biographic references in the footnotes (and bibliography and associated sources). The book’s primary purpose is to bring back to life the thoughts of these pioneers on Mycenae. It is also a reflection on dating theories of the site during the nineteenth century. At that time, the general consensus concerning the beginning of the ‘Greek world’ was the classical civilisation of the fifth century BC. This was not the view of many of these travellers. The ancients too had a fascination with Mycenae. The Homeric tales of Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, led to popular sixth and fifth century BC plays from the likes of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides. But what did these ancient writers and later travellers, such as Pausanias, actually see? Finally, there is a need to be reminded of some of the ‘pioneer’ travellers to Mycenae and their descriptions of the Lion Gate citadel and the ‘Treasury of Atreus’, as they are of particular historical interest. Not only that, but some of these observations are pure poetry and a delight to read.