Continue reading “35: The Lotus as a Narcotic or Aphrodisiac”
35: The Lotus as a Narcotic or Aphrodisiac
34: Haniwa Horse and Hokusai’s Ghosts
33: Ganesha
32: Hadrian and Antinous
31: Shiva Nataraja, Lord of the Dance
30: Karnak II
Welcome back to the Ancient Art Podcast. This is Lucas Livingston, the peanut butter to your jelly on our ancient journey. Last time in episode 29, “Karnak,” we just scratched the surface or strolled the causeway, as it were, on our exploration of Egypt’s largest temple complex. In this episode, we’ll delve deeper into the precinct of Amun at Karnak, deciphering ancient imagery on the walls, reenacting an ancient festival, and breathing new life into the silent ruins.
When we were last together, we wrapped up in the forecourt of Karnak between the first and second pylons looking at the unfinished columns and the leftover mud brick scaffolding of the first pylon.
Just beyond the forecourt and second pylon is the Great Hypostyle Hall consisting of 134 papyrus-shaped columns. A “hypostyle hall” is a large room with a flat ceiling supported by columns. This space and much of the temple were originally roofed. The center 12 columns with open papyrus capitals are taller than the surrounding 122 columns, forming a section where the roof was elevated above the rest, connected by windows to let in some natural light. That technique is called clerestory lighting and it’s a common feature to Egyptian, Roman, and later Christian sacred architecture.
The decoration on the walls and columns in the hypostyle hall depict ritualistic imagery, offerings of the kings to the gods, and the procession of the sacred barque–that’s B-A-R-Q-U-E–a fancy-looking model boat that held the statue of the god. On the exterior walls of the hypostyle hall and much of the rest of the temple, we see battle scenes commemorating Pharaoh’s military victories over the enemies of Egypt. Occasionally it’s an attempt at history, but more often than not it’s a publicly accessible, propagandistic symbol of Egypt’s subjugation and authority over foreign lands and hostile forces of chaos. A fairly common motif is the larger-than-life Pharaoh grabbing a throng of enemies by their hair, ready to bash their heads in with a mace. Here’s Sety I, for example, father of Ramses the Great. Notice all those little grooves where the stone has been slowly carved away by worshippers. This practice started in ancient times and continued well after the temple had ceased religious activity. Much in the same way that Ancient Egyptian mummies would get pulverized and mixed with various ingredients for magical and medicinal concoctions, visitors to Ancient Egyptian temples like Karnak similarly recognized the temple’s magical power and sought to take home a little bit of that power in a powdered form. [1] So on the outside you get big political imagery of Pharaoh smiting enemies and on the inside you get religious imagery pertaining to the action taking place inside the temple and on festival days.
Another interesting thing about this relatively common depiction of Pharaoh smiting the enemies of Egypt is that they’re quite clearly depicted with frontal faces. It’s exceedingly rare to have a frontal face in Ancient Egyptian two-dimensional art. Back in episode 9 of the podcast, “Walk Like an Egyptian”, we touched on this phenomenon with the Mummy Case of Paankhenamun. The conventions of Egyptian artistic doctrine don’t apply here in the case of depicting foreigners. It’s not that the Egyptians didn’t know how to render a frontal face. Case in point. Rather, it’s that the complex relationship of state art, hieroglyphs, and Ma’at (cosmic world order and philosophical truth) limit the use of a frontal Egyptian face in painting and relief carving.
There’s one frontal face that’s relatively common in Egyptian art, which we see here on the obelisk of Pharaoh Tuthmosis I. It’s part of a Hieroglyphic inscription. This common hieroglyph is the preposition “on” or “upon.” So, you might be tempted to say, “See, look here. The frontal face is abundant in Egyptian two-dimensional art,” but it’s important to note that this is writing. It’s language. And even though I’m constantly emphasizing that hieroglyphs and art are inextricably related, sometimes writing is writing and art is art. This hieroglyph got its 15 minutes of fame not too long ago with President Barack Obama’s visit to Egypt back on June 4, 2009. He’s actually quoted as having pointed at that same hieroglyph inscribed on the walls of the Tomb of Qar at Giza and exclaimed, “That looks like me! Look at those ears.” Now, just how many presidents of the United States could express some sort of personal identification with an African nation? Huh?
As you go deeper into Karnak temple, the rooms gradually become smaller, the ceiling lower, and the floor slightly elevated. Think of it like an obelisk lying on its side: a wide base at the front of the temple, gradually tapering to a point at the head or what’s called the “naos,” where the statue of the god Amun was kept. Only a few elite priests were permitted to enter the naos, to clothe and cleanse the god. On certain festival days, the image of the god would be carried out of the naos on his barque shrine, that fancy model boat I already mentioned. Probably the most anticipated festival at Karnak was “the Beautiful Feast of Opet,” held annually during the inundation season. The Opet festival was a celebration of the Nile flood and its symbolic fertility as people across Egypt began planting their crops. The image of the Amun was carried through the temple as everyday Egyptian gathered around gawking at the god. If you look around the Great Hypostyle Hall, you’ll see funny-looking images of a bird with human hands raised up in adoration. That bird’s the Egyptian hieroglyph for “rekhyt,” which was the Egyptian word for themselves, the Egyptians. It’s thought that that glyph indicated to the people where they were allowed to stand during the festival. [2] There’s also this nifty little alabaster block decorated with images of bound, captive foreigners and bows. They represent the “nine bows,” Egypt’s enemies, although the actual number and national identity varies. It’s thought that this block was a rest stop for the priests to place the barque of Amun on its sacred procession. [3] So by placing the barque of Amun on top of the nine bows, the Egyptians were making a symbolic statement of political dominance over its enemies. A very well known representation of the nine bows is found on the sandals of King Tut, so with every step, he was treading over his enemies. The barque’s journey during the Opet festival continued along the south axis, out of the temple, around the sanctuary of Mut and south along the avenue of sphinxes to Luxor temple. After hanging out there for a while, it was brought back to Karnak, at times on land and at times along the Nile.
The relationship of land to water plays a big role in the architectural symbolism and programmatic vision of Ancient Egyptian temples. One interpretation of Egyptian temple architecture is that it models the creation of the universe, according to the popular Theban cosmogony. According to one tradition, the cosmos began as the primeval swirling waters, Nun. From this infinite ocean emerged a mound of earth where a single lotus blossom flowered. Within that flowering lotus was born the infant god Nefertem, and from his tears all the creatures of the world were formed. There are oodles of variants to this story as different cults rise to prominence and get folded into the mythology, but regardless of the fine points, the Egyptian temple is often seen as embodying the idea of creation from the primordial swamp. The rise in elevation of the floor from the temple entrance to the naos might reflect the primeval mound of earth, a little bit of cosmic order in an otherwise chaotic watery void. Similarly, the Egyptian hieroglyph for cosmic world order, the taming of natural chaos, is a stylized mound or the pedestal upon which the image of a god would stand, ma’at, which we’ve already encountered back in episodes 2, “Mummy Case of Paankhenamun”, and 9, “Walk Like an Egyptian”. Even more to the point, the columns decorating the many courts and halls of Egyptian temples were shaped to represent a variety of lotus, palm, and papyrus plants found along the Nile, having found their origin in the primordial swamp. Temple walls, much like tombs, were also sometimes decorated with marsh scenes. And to bring it all home, there’s evidence and testimony through royal inscription that temple forecourts were actually flooded now and again by the Nile’s annual inundation, which would have tied in beautifully with the temple as a concrete manifestation of the force of creation … well, not concrete, mostly limestone or sandstone. Yeah. [4]
So, there’s a lot going on in Karnak and other Egyptian temples. Even today, in their somewhat ruined state with sun-bleached walls, fragmentary sculpture, and eroding inscriptions, these mansions of the gods offer up a very palpable, if not mystical and spiritual experience of one of the greatest civilizations of the ancient world.
Don’t forget to visit ancientartpodcast.org for the full transcript, image gallery and credits, and additional resources to this and other episodes of the podcast. If you like the podcast, how about leaving an iTunes comment. Loves my iTunes comments, and it helps get the podcast noticed. I also appreciate the feedback on YouTube, and if you have any questions or comments or just want to say hi, you can email me at info@ancientartpodcast.org or get in touch with the feedback form at ancientartpodcast.org. You can friend the podcast at facebook.ancientartpodcast.org and follow me on Twitter at lucaslivingston. Alright, it’s been fun and I’ll see you next time on the Ancient Art Podcast.
©2010 Lucas Livingston, ancientartpodcast.org
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Footnotes:
[1] Wilkinson, Richard H. The Complete Temples of Ancient Egypt. New York: Thames & Hudson, 2000, p 62, 99.
[2] ibid.
[3] ibid. p 157-8.
[4] Baines, John. “The Inundation Stela of Sebekhotpe VIII,” Acta Orientalia 1974, pp. 39-54.
29: Karnak
Welcome back to the Ancient Art Podcast, your guidebook to the art and culture of the ancient Mediterranean world and beyond. I’m your friendly traveling companion, Lucas Livingston.
A few weeks ago, I had the fantastic opportunity to travel to Egypt and Jordan as a study leader through the Art Institute of Chicago. It was a great trip and I met some wonderful people. A big shout out to our intrepid travel director K.C. for her tireless effort. And even though most of the destinations we visited during the trip were thousands of years old, it sure seemed like a lot had changed since the last time I had been to the pyramids of Giza, Karnak and Luxor temples, the Valley of the Kings, and the mortuary temple of Pharaoh Hatshepsut at Deir el Bahri. A lot has also changed technologically since the last time I was there back in 1997; in particular with 35 mm film giving way to digital photography, encouraging wanton abuse of photographic hysteria. If you’re not already a fan of the Ancient Art Podcast on Facebook at facebook.ancientartpodcast.org or if you don’t follow me on Twitter at LucasLivingston, you might not yet have seen the hundreds of photos I uploaded from the trip. Well, head on over to either or and check them out.
Or to keep it really simple, go to ancientartpodcast.org and click on “Resources” to see links to the photo gallery and an interactive Google map with the geotagged photos. As an extra bonus there’s also a link to interact with the photos in Google Earth. So check it out.
My visit to Egypt and Jordan provided me not only with plentiful imagery, but also with copious fodder for the podcast. I thought a good launch pad would be an introduction to the amazing Karnak temple from Ancient Egypt. There’s so much to explore at Karnak that we’ll probably need a couple episodes here. This episode will give us an orientation in and around the temple. We’ll explore its grounds and layout, some of the architecture and history, and the different divinities revered at the sacred site. In the next episode, number 30, we’ll look a bit more closely at some of the decoration, the spiritual and political function of the temple, and the overarching philosophy and symbolism of Ancient Egyptian temple architecture in general.
Karnak is located in Upper Egypt, which means southern Egypt, because it goes by elevation, not latitude. Karnak, Luxor, the Valley of the Kings, and so many of Egypt’s other famous monuments are all clustered together in an area where the Nile makes a sharp bend around a relatively mountainous region. This is location of the ancient city of Thebes, given that name by the Greeks after the Greek city of the same name. The Ancient Egyptian name for Thebes was Waset. The name “Karnak” comes from the nearby modern village of the same name, as does the name of the nearby temple Luxor (al-Uqsur, meaning “The Palaces”). To the Ancient Egyptians, though, Karnak was known as Ipet isut, meaning “The Most Select of Places.” [1]
Karnak was more or less under continuous construction from the Middle Kingdom through the Roman era—that’s like 2000 years! The most ancient sections of Karnak in the deepest recesses of the sanctuary date back as far as Senusert I of the 12th dynasty, who ruled from 1971-1926 BC. The greatest period of construction and expansion was during the New Kingdom, around 1550-1307 BC. Nearly all the New Kingdom pharaohs left their mark on Karnak in some way or another.
Karnak is comprised of three main temple precincts dedicated to different gods. The largest precinct in the center is dedicated to Amun, or more properly Amun-Ra, after the two gods became syncretized. Within that precinct are many shrines, chapels, and subsidiary temples dedicated to different gods and pharaohs, including of course the Great Temple of Amun. To the north is the precinct of Montu, the falcon-headed Theban god of war. Montu was especially popular during the Middle Kingdom, which we see reflected in the names of the 11th dynasty kings Mentuhotep I, II, and III. Mentuhotep II, who ruled from 2061-2010, is the fellow who built his mortuary temple nestled in the foothills of the western mountains at Deir el Bahri, where Hatshepsut later build her famous mortuary temple modeled heavily after Mentuhotep’s, but we’ll save all of that for another episode of the podcast. South of the precinct of Amun connected by a long path or avenue lined by ram-headed sphinx statues lies the precinct of the goddess Mut, wife of Amun and the divine mother to the reigning pharaoh.
The avenue of sphinxes jogs around the temple of Mut and then continues roughly southward lined by human-headed sphinxes all the way to the Temple of Amun at Luxor. Over the years, the city of Luxor was built up on top of the avenue of sphinxes, but there’s a massive project underway today to excavate and reconstruct the avenue of sphinxes, reconnecting the ancient complexes and displacing lots of modern day residents. So you can imagine it’s been kind of controversial.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the temple to the god Khonsu, which lies within the precinct of Amun. Khonsu or Khons is the son of Amun and Mut, so you have a nice family gathering here at Karnak, which makes a lot of sense, since temples were considered to be the mansions of the gods. So Karnak as a whole is a magnificent estate with different buildings, rooms, and wings dedicated to the divine family of Thebes. The Theban pantheon and theology has many layers of complexity on top of that, but that’s a simple perspective.
Flanking the southern side of the Amun temple at Karnak is a fantastically large open-air museum of architectural fragments covering about as much ground as the temple itself. The collection is comprised mostly of blocks that were discovered being used as filler inside the temple pylons. The pylons are those massive blocky gateways so characteristic of Egyptian architecture. Throughout the history of Karnak, not only do we see continuous expansion and construction, but we also have constant renovation and demolition to make way for what were in their day new construction projects. If an earlier king’s addition to Karnak got in the way of a later king’s plans, it was not uncommon to demolish the earlier section, and it was certainly a cost saving measure to reuse that stone, which had already been nicely quarried and shaped, which today would help you earn credits toward LEED certification.
The temple of Amun is constructed along two primary axes; one running perpendicular to the Nile and the other running parallel. The perpendicular axis is generally designated east-west and the other north-south, but the temple is not actually orientated precisely along the cardinal axes. In general, however, it was common for Egyptian temples to be orientated east-west. Many of the western Theban temples on the opposite side of the Nile face east towards the rising sun and the river, while Karnak faces west, again towards the river for one for the very practical purpose of accessibility by boat. The first pylon is about 540 meters from the Nile today (in American units, that’s about 6 football fields), but in its day there was quay or a water way connecting it with the river. All in all, the temple of Amun is comprised of 10 pylons dating from the 18th dynasty through the 30th dynasty. While construction jumped around from place to place within the temple, the pylons generally radiate outward chronologically. So the first pylon where all tourists today enter is the latest from the 30th dynasty, the second pylon is older (late 18th-early 19th dynasty), and so on.
Between the first and second pylons is an open-air courtyard. What’s neat here is that this space was outside the temple proper in the New Kingdom, so you can see some sphinx statues here that were originally part of the avenue of sphinxes connecting to the Nile. You’ll also find some unfinished columns and the massive mud-brick scaffolding that was never removed after construction of the first pylon was halted. I think it’s really interesting to see evidence like this revealing the history and development of Karnak. It breathes a little life into the ancient stone, betraying that there was frequent expansion and renovation. It’s easy to visit Karnak today and take it for granted that we’re looking at a frozen snapshot in time, but that’s not the case. As we walk through this ancient complex, we’re treading across more than 100 generations of continuous occupation, development, devotion, and human achievement.
So, there’s a tight little introduction to Karnak and Ancient Egyptian temples. I hope you’ll tune in to the next episode, where we’ll go deeper into the temple, exploring the carvings on the walls, their meaning and symbolism. We’ll recreate an Ancient Egyptian festival and then we’ll learn how the temple as a whole functions as a symbol of Ancient Egyptian mythology and spiritual beliefs.
If you enjoy the podcast and want to help support it, please consider leaving your comments on iTunes and YouTube. You can also give your feedback at ancientartpodcast.org. Just click on the Feedback link at the top of the page. And I appreciate your comments, suggestions, and questions at info@ancientartpodcast.org. Thanks for listening and see you next time on the Ancient Art Podcast.
©2010 Lucas Livingston, ancientartpodcast.org
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Footnotes:
[1] Wilkinson, Richard H. The Complete Temples of Ancient Egypt. New York: Thames & Hudson, 2000, p154.
28: Avatars of Vishnu
Hey folks. Welcome back to the Ancient Art Podcast, your nifty guidebook to the art and culture of the ancient world. I’m you friendly traveling companion, Lucas Livingston.
With all the current hype about Mr. Cameron’s latest titanic piece of cinematography, the CGI-wonder Avatar, I thought it might be enjoyable for us to explore the true meaning, history, and imagery of the traditional usage of the word “avatar.” The term has met widespread usage in recent years, especially in the realm of computer gaming and virtual reality, from World of Warcraft and The Sims to Second Life. But unless you were especially literate, eastwardly spiritual, or big into Dungeon & Dragons, you might not have had the opportunity to familiarize yourself with the true meaning of “avatar.” It comes from the Sanskrit avatara, basically meaning a being, who has crossed over or come down. In essence, an avatar is a physical manifestation or incarnation of a god on Earth, which we commonly encounter in Hindu narratives.
The Hindu deity most frequently associated with avatars is the god Vishnu. Vishnu is one of the most prominent and widely revered deities in the Hindu faith.
Vishnu is one of the Trimurti, the Hindu triad, or the “three forms,” where the concepts of cosmic creation, preservation, and destruction are personified by the three deities Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, respectively. As the divine preserver of the cosmos, it’s Vishnu’s job to manifest and restore dharma, or social justice and cosmic world order, whenever it’s threatened by some malevolence. The number of avatars of Vishnu ranges among texts, but the most commonly recognized number of his incarnations is 10, known as the Dasavatara, meaning the “ten avatars.” [1]
One of the most recognized avatars of Vishnu is the hero Krishna, a popular deity in his own right and the star of the Mahabharata, a great Hindu epic narrative. In Bhagavad Gita, the “Song of the Lord,” part of the Mahabharata, Krishna relates to his friend Arjuna:
“For whenever Right declines and Wrong prevails, then O Bharata, I come to birth.
To save the righteous, to destroy the wicked, and to re-establish Right I am born from age to age.” [2]
That quote is from chapter 4 of the Bhagavad Gita as told by the great 20th century spiritual leader and civil rights activist Mahatma Gandhi. We encounter another avatar of Vishnu in the supposed last words of Gandhi, featured as an epitaph on his tombstone, “He Ram.” Meaning “Oh God,” “He Ram” refers to Rama, the avatar, king of Ayodhya, and the hero of the Hindu epic Ramayana. The Ramayana tells the tale of Rama as he battles the ten-headed Rakshasa demon Ravana, who has kidnapped Rama’s wife Sita. Ravana had become too powerful, ruling over the heavens, the earth, and the netherworld, invulnerable to all living and celestial beings, except man and animals. He was an arrogant and destructive ruler harboring evildoers. As the divine preserver of dharma, Vishnu promised to defeat Ravana on Earth manifesting as the human prince Rama, while his divine consort, Lakshmi, took birth as his future spouse Sita. Throughout his life as a man on Earth, his true identity and destiny were known by none, but himself and a few great sages.
Chronologically, Rama and Krishna are the 7th and 8th avatars of Vishnu, according to the list of ten avatars. [3] The 9th and most recent avatar is sometimes considered to be Buddha, also known as Gautama or Shakyamuni. That’s especially interesting, because, we usually encounter Buddha in, um, Buddhism, not Hinduism, but this is wonderfully exemplary of Hinduism’s traditional acceptance and incorporation of world religions. As opposed to “There’s only one god and I’m right and you’re wrong.” You could look at this as an expression of the core belief held by some that all of the many divinities of the world are extensions of a singular supreme divine force. Buddha as an avatar of Vishnu, who primarily promoted non-violence, or ahimsa, is still a popular belief among a number of modern Vaishnava Hindu organizations, including the West’s particularly recognizable, although modestly sized Hare Krishna movement. [4] Alternatively, some scholars have put forth the interpretation that Buddha as an avatar was an attempt to absorb this offshoot Buddhist heresy back into Hinduism. [5] There are always two sides to the coin.
Beyond Rama, Krishna, and Buddha, two avatars of Vishnu that we frequently encounter in art are Vishnu’s incarnation as a boar or boar-headed man, Varaha, and the man-lion Narasimha. Varaha is skillfully represented on this 11th century sandstone sculpture from Rajasthan, India at the Art Institute of Chicago. When the Earth began to sink into the ocean under the burden of all the world’s evil and corruption, Vishnu manifested as the avatar Varaha and lifted the Earth personified here as the goddess Bhudevi. This work captures the moment when Varaha and Bhudevi fall in love. Varaha gazes fondly at Bhudevi as she gently lays her hand upon his snout. Down below, his left knee bent, he rests his foot upon a lotus. Beneath the lotus are two nagas, serpent deities, who symbolize the oceans from which Varaha has lifted the Earth. And Varaha and Bhudevi live happily ever after, so the story goes. In other representations of the story, we encounter the evil demon Hiranyaksha, who kidnapped the Earth and pulled her beneath the cosmic oceans. Varaha descended into the oceans to battle Hiranyaksha for 1000 years. Once victorious, we see Varaha raising the Earth from the water.
Hiranyaksha had an older brother named Hiranyakashipu and he’s downright angry. Hiranyakashipu wanted to avenge his brother’s murder at the hands of Vishnu, so he offers many years of penance to Brahma and gains special powers in return: that he may not die indoors or outdoors, during the day or at night, nor on the ground or in the sky. He can’t be killed by human, divinity, or animal. Oh, and he also become supreme ruler of everything. So, he had a son named Prahlada, who, much to his father’s disappointment, was a devout follower of Vishnu. One day as the sun was setting and nighttime was encroaching, Prahlada, as any angst-ridden child would do, challenged the notion that his father was the supreme lord of the universe, saying that Vishnu’s the all-pervasive, omnipresent lord of everything. Hiranyakashipu points at a column in the courtyard and smugly says, “So, your omnipresent god is even in that column, there?” Prahlada says he is, at which point Hiranyakashipu smashes the column in a fit of rage. Vishnu bursts forth from the fractured column as the avatar Narasimha, not human nor beast nor divinity, but the part-man, part-beast incarnation. He grabs Hiranyakashipu at that moment of twilight, neither day nor night, lifts him onto his lap, neither ground nor air, and tears into him right there in the courtyard, a liminal space neither indoors nor outside. Crafty fellow, that Vishnu.
In this amazing 11th century black basalt sculpture from the Art Institute, we see a fierce six-armed Narasimha digging into Hiranyakashipu, stretched across his lap. The column is shown on the lower left next to his right leg. He’s also standing on another demon, who’s trying to stab him with a knife. Below the lotus flower base, we see the prostrate donor couple who commissioned the work of art, which was originally set up in a temple.
The last avatar of Vishnu to get an honorable mention here is the dwarf Vamana. As we might come to expect, a demon king had taken over the cosmos. This time his name was Bali, but he wasn’t so bad. He was the grandson of the pious Prahlada, the Vaishnava son of Hiranyakashipu. But still, that was just too much authority for one person to have. So, the diminutive Vamana requested that he could have as much land as his his little legs could cover in just three steps. Bali consented and Vamana suddenly grew to an immense size becoming the mighty Trivikrama, which means “Three Steps.” With his first step, he covered the world, with his second step he covered the heavens and netherworld, and with nowhere else to step, Bali offered his own head for the third and final step. The god was so impressed by this pious gesture that he renamed him Mahabali, meaning “The Great Bali,” and granted him immortality up in heavens.
So, one thing you could say that James Cameron got right in the movie Avatar is that the avatar in the film, Jake Sully, came to the Na’vi people in a time of great trouble. It wasn’t the character’s original intention to be their savior, but perhaps it was his destiny. Likewise, Cameron probably wasn’t even thinking of the original sacred context of the avatar when he scripted the film, but it makes for an interesting connection. And hopefully you’ve found our journey here not only enjoyable and educational, but maybe you can even impress your friends with some enlightening conversational insights as Avatar goes up for its 9 Oscar nominations at the 82nd Academy Awards on March 7th.
Be sure to check out the website at ancientartpodcast.org for the image gallery with image credits, the transcript with references, and lots of other fun stuff. I welcome your feedback and suggestions at info@ancientartpodcast.org or with the online feedback form. I’d also love to get your comments on YouTube, in iTunes, or on the website, itself. You can follow me on Twitter at lucaslivingston and on Facebook at facebook.ancientartpodcast.org. Thanks for listening and see you next time on the Ancient Art Podcast.
©2010 Lucas Livingston, ancientartpodcast.org
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Footnotes:
[1] The Dasavatara of the Garuda Purana is a series instructions that Vishnu gave to his animal companion Garuda, whom we met back in episode 17 of the Ancient Art Podcast. For multiple lists of the avatars of Vishnu according to different scriptural traditions, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avatar.
[2] The Gita According to Gandhi (4.7-8).
[4] “Gautama Buddha in Hinduism,” Wikipedia.
See also:
• “Krsna Will Accept You Anyway You Like.” Lecture given on March 31, 1974 by founder of ISKCON – A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada.
• “Sri Dasavatara-stotra and Upaaya” (from Gita-govinda) by Jayadeva Gosvami.
27: Hiratsuka Un’ichi
Ancient Sources on Aphrodite
Hesiod, Theogony
On the birth of Aphrodite (lines 175-205):
[175] “… And Heaven came, bringing on night and longing for love, and he lay about Earth spreading himself full upon her. Then the son from his ambush stretched forth his left hand and in his right took the great long sickle [180] with jagged teeth, and swiftly lopped off his own father’s members and cast them away to fall behind him. And not vainly did they fall from his hand; for all the bloody drops that gushed forth Earth received, and as the seasons moved round [185] she bore the strong Erinyes and the great Giants with gleaming armour, holding long spears in their hands and the Nymphs whom they call Meliae all over the boundless earth. And so soon as he had cut off the members with flint and cast them from the land into the surging sea, [190] they were swept away over the main a long time: and a white foam spread around them from the immortal flesh, and in it there grew a maiden. First she drew near holy Cythera, and from there, afterwards, she came to sea-girt Cyprus, and came forth an awful and lovely goddess, and grass [195] grew up about her beneath her shapely feet. Her gods and men call Aphrodite, and the foam-born goddess and rich-crowned Cytherea, because she grew amid the foam, and Cytherea because she reached Cythera, and Cyprogenes because she was born in billowy Cyprus, [200] and Philommedes because she sprang from the members. And with her went Eros, and comely Desire followed her at her birth at the first and as she went into the assembly of the gods. This honor she has from the beginning, and this is the portion allotted to her amongst men and undying gods,— [205] the whisperings of maidens and smiles and deceits with sweet delight and love and graciousness.”
Hesiod. The Homeric Hymns and Homerica with an English Translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White. Theogony. Cambridge: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1914. <http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.01.0130:card=173>
Pliny the Elder, Natural History
On the Aphrodite of Knidos by Praxiteles (XXXVI.20-21):
20. “Superior to any other statue, not only to others made by Praxiteles himself, but throughout the world, is the Venus, which many people have sailed to Cnidus to see. He had made two statues and was offering them for sale at the same time. One was clothed, and for this reason was preferred by the people of Cos who had an option to buy, although Praxiteles offered it at the same price as the other—this way he thought the only decent and proper response. So the people of Cnidus bought the Venus when the Coans refused, and its reputation became greatly enhanced.”
21. “Subsequently King Nicomedes wanted to buy it from them, promising to cancel all the state’s debts, which were vast. The Cnidians, however, preferred to endure anything rather than sell the statue. Nor without just cause, for with it Praxiteles made Cnidus famous. The shrine that houses it is completely open so that the statue of the goddess can be seen from all sides, and it was made in this way, so it is believed, with the goddess’s approval. It is admirable from every angle. There is a story that a man who had fallen in love with the statue hid in the temple at night and embraced it intimately; a stain bears witness to his lust.”
Pliny the Elder. Natural History: A Selection. Penguin Books, Ltd., trans John F. Healy, 1991, XXXVI.20-21. <http://books.google.com/books?id=JvyF-8NXFbIC&lpg=PR39&dq=inauthor:”pliny” natural history&lr=&pg=PA346#v=onepage&q=&f=false>
For another translation, see also:
The Natural History. Pliny the Elder. John Bostock, M.D., F.R.S. H.T. Riley, Esq., B.A. London. Taylor and Francis, Red Lion Court, Fleet Street, 1855, Book XXXVI, Chapter 4. (5.). <http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.02.0137:book=36:chapter=4>
[Note, the numbering of Book and Chapter notation in this edition that does not correspond with other editions. E.g. Bk. XXXVI, Ch. 20-21 in most editions equals Bk. XXXVI Ch. 4 in the Bostock edition. The advantage of the Bostock edition available through the Perseus Digital Library is that the entire text is online.]
“…superior to all the statues, not only of Praxiteles, but of any other artist that ever existed, is his Cnidian Venus; for the inspection of which, many persons before now have purposely undertaken a voyage to Cnidos. The artist made two statues of the goddess, and offered them both for sale: one of them was represented with drapery, and for this reason was preferred by the people of Cos, who had the choice; the second was offered them at the same price, but, on the grounds of propriety and modesty, they thought fit to choose the other. Upon this, the Cnidians purchased the rejected statue, and immensely superior has it always been held in general estimation. At a later period, King Nicomedes wished to purchase this statue of the Cnidians, and made them an offer to pay off the whole of their public debt, which was very large. They preferred, however, to submit to any extremity rather than part with it; and with good reason, for by this statue Praxiteles has perpetuated the glory of Cnidos. The little temple in which it, is placed is open on all sides, so that the beauties of the statue admit of being seen from every point of view; an arrangement which was favoured by the goddess herself, it is generally believed. Indeed, from whatever point it is viewed, its execution is equally worthy of admiration. A certain individual, it is said, became enamoured of this statue, and, concealing himself in the temple during the night, gratified his lustful passion upon it, traces of which are to be seen in a stain left upon the marble.”
On the polychromy of Classical sculpture (XXXV.130, 133):
Nicias, an Athenian … “who was an extremely careful painter of female portraits….It is this Nicias of whom Praxiteles used to say, when asked which of his own works in marble he placed highest, ‘The ones to which Nicias has set his hand’–so much value did he assign to his colouring of surfaces.”
Pliny the Elder. Natural History: A Selection. Penguin Books, Ltd., trans John F. Healy, 1991, XXXV.130, 133. <
[Completely irrelevant to Aphrodite, but just for fun, the famous story…]
On the contest between Zeuxis and Parrhasius (XXXV.65):
In a contest between Zeuxis and Parrhasius, Zeuxis produced so successful a representation of grapes that birds flew up to the stage-buildings where it was hung. Then Parrhasius produced such a successful trompe-l’oeil of a curtain that Zeuxis, puffed up with pride and judgement of the birds, asked that the curtain be drawn aside and the picture revealed. When he realized his mistake, with an unaffected modesty he conceded the prize, saying that whereas he had deceived birds, Parrhasius had deceived him, an artist.
Pliny the Elder. Natural History: A Selection. Penguin Books, Ltd., trans John F. Healy, 1991, XXXV.65. <http://books.google.com/books?id=JvyF-8NXFbIC&lpg=PR39&dq=inauthor:”pliny” natural history&lr=&pg=PA330#v=onepage&q=&f=false>
Pausanais, Description of Greece
On Praxiteles and Phryne’s relationship (Vol 3, Book X, Ch 14):
“The golden statue of Phryne here was made by Praxiteles, who was one of her lovers; but the statue was dedicated by Phryne.”
Pausanias. The Description of Greece, Volume 3. Trans. Thomas Taylor. London, 1824, p. 125. <http://books.google.com/books?id=wakAAAAAYAAJ&dq=inauthor:”Pausanias”&pg=PA125#v=onepage&q=&f=false>
Note: Quote appears in the last line of chapter 14 in this edition. Other editions place this text as the first line of chapter 15; c.f.:
Pausanias. Description of Greece with an English Translation by W.H.S. Jones, Litt.D., and H.A. Ormerod, M.A., in 4 Volumes. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd., 1918, X.15.1. <http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0160%3Abook%3D10%3Achapter%3D15%3Asection%3D1>
On Phryne tricking Praxiteles to reveal his favorite work (Vol 1, Book XX, Ch 1-2):
“Leading from the Prytaneum is a road called Tripods. The place takes its name from the shrines, large enough to hold the tripods which stand upon them, of bronze, but containing very remarkable works of art, including a Satyr, of which Praxiteles is said to have been very proud. Phryne once asked of him the most beautiful of his works, and the story goes that lover-like he agreed to give it, but refused to say which he thought the most beautiful. So a slave of Phryne rushed in saying that a fire had broken out in the studio of Praxiteles, and the greater number of his works were lost, though not all were destroyed. Praxiteles at once started to rush through the door crying that his labour was all wasted if indeed the flames had caught his Satyr and his Love. But Phryne bade him stay and be of good courage, for he had suffered no grievous loss, but had been trapped into confessing which were the most beautiful of his works. So Phryne chose the statue of Love…”
Pausanias. Description of Greece, Volume 1. Trans. William Henry Samuel Jones. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1918, p. 97. <http://books.google.com/books?id=olRFAAAAYAAJ&dq=inauthor:”Pausanias”&pg=PA97#v=onepage&q=&f=false>
Amores, attributed to Lucian
On the rotunda temple to Aphrodite at Knidos and the statue of Aphrodite (13-16):
“13. When the plants had given us pleasure enough, we entered the temple. In the midst thereof sits the goddess–she’s a most beautiful statue of Parian marble–arrogantly smiling a little as a grin parts her lips. Draped by no garment, all her beauty is uncovered and revealed, except in so far as she unobtrusively uses one hand to hide her private parts. So great was the power of the craftsman’s art that the hard unyielding marble did justice to every limb. Charicles at any rate raised a mad distracted cry and exclaimed, “Happiest indeed of the gods was Ares, who suffered chains because of her!” And, as he spoke, he ran up and, stretching out his neck as far as he could, started to kiss the goddess with importunate lips. Callicratidas stood by in silence with amazement in his heart.
The temple had a door on both sides for the benefit of those also who wish to have a good view of the goddess from behind, so that no part of her be left unadmired. It’s easy therefore for people to enter by the other door and survey the beauty of her back.
14. And so we decided to see all of the goddess and went round to the back of the precinct. Then, when the door had been opened by the woman responsible for keeping the keys, we were filled with an immediate wonder for the beauty we beheld. The Athenian who had been so impassive an observer a minute before, upon inspecting those parts of the goddess which recommend a boy, suddenly raised a shout far more frenzied than that of Charicles. “Heracles!” he exclaimed, “what a well-proportioned back! What generous flanks she has! How satisfying an armful to embrace! How delicately moulded the flesh on the buttocks, neither too thin and close to the bone, nor yet revealing too great an expanse of fat! And as for those precious parts sealed in on either side by the hips, how inexpressibly sweetly they smile! How perfect the proportions of the thighs and the shins as they stretch down in a straight line to the feet! So that’s what Ganymede looks like as he pours out the nectar in heaven for Zeus and makes it taste sweeter. For I’d never have taken the cup from Hebe if she served me.” While Callicratidas was shouting this under the spell of the goddess, Charicles in the excess of his admiration stood almost petrified, though his emotions showed in the melting tears trickling from his eyes.
15. When we could admire no more, we noticed a mark on one thigh like a stain on a dress; the unsightliness of this was shown up by the brightness of the marble everywhere else. I therefore, hazarding a plausible guess about the truth of the matter, supposed that what we saw was a natural defect in the marble. For even such things as these are subject to accident and many potential masterpieces of beauty are thwarted by bad luck. And so, thinking the black mark to be a natural blemish, I found in this too cause to admire Praxiteles for having hidden what was unsightly in the marble in the parts less able to be examined closely. But the attendant woman who was standing near us told us a strange, incredible story. For she said that a young man of a not undistinguished family — though his deed has caused him to be left nameless — who often visited the precinct, was so ill-starred as to fall in love with the goddess. He would spend all day in the temple and at first gave the impression of pious awe. For in the morning he would leave his bed long before dawn to go to the temple and only return home reluctantly after sunset. All day long would he sit facing the goddess with his eyes fixed uninterruptedly upon her, whispering indistinctly and carrying on a lover’s complaints in secret conversation.
16. But when he wished to give himself some little comfort from his suffering, after first addressing the goddess, he would count out on the table four knuckle-bones of a Libyan gazelle and take a gamble on his expectations. If he made a successful throw and particularly if ever he was blessed with the throw named after the goddess herself, and no dice showed the same face, he would prostrate himself before the goddess, thinking he would gain his desire. But, if as usually happens he made an indifferent throw on to his table, and the dice revealed an unpropitious result, he would curse all Cnidus and show utter dejection as if at an irremediable disaster; but a minute later he would snatch up the dice and try to cure by another throw his earlier lack of success. But presently, as his passion grew more inflamed, every wall came to be inscribed with his messages and the bark of every tender tree told of fair Aphrodite. Praxiteles was honoured by him as much as Zeus and every beautiful treasure that his home guarded was offered to the goddess. In the end the violent tension of his desires turned to desperation and he found in audacity a procurer for his lusts. For, when the sun was now sinking to its setting, quietly and unnoticed by those present, he slipped in behind the door and, standing invisible in the inmost part of the chamber, he kept still, hardly even breathing. When the attendants closed the door from the outside in the normal way, this new Anchises was locked in. But why do I chatter on and tell you in every detail the reckless deed of that unmentionable night? These marks of his amorous embraces were seen after day came and the goddess had that blemish to prove what she’d suffered. The youth concerned is said, according to the popular story told, to have hurled himself over a cliff or down into the waves of the sea and to have vanished utterly.”
Lucian (attributed). Amores. trans. A.M. Harmon (Loeb edition). <http://www.well.com/user/aquarius/lucian-amores.htm>
Greek Anthology
On the goddess Aphrodite’s reaction to the Knidia by Praxiteles (VI.160):
“Where did Praxiteles see me naked?”
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