January 25, 2012 one year anniversary memorial. Photograph by Melanie Pitkin, 2012
Some of our regular readers will recall a blog post I wrote a year ago about my experiences in Egypt during the 2011 Revolution (see here). I had just touched down at Cairo International airport in readiness to lead a 3-week tour of Egypt for Alumni Travel in Sydney when all hell broke loose on the streets of Cairo. Perhaps a vulnerable time to be in Egypt to some, I knew it was also a very momentous occasion in the history of modern Egypt and one which I couldn’t miss being a part of. A year later, I am writing my second instalment after having made a return visit to Egypt for the anniversary (yes, the tour successfully went ahead this time!). On this occasion, however, I was better prepared and took the opportunity to purchase two objects for the Museum’s collection which I would like to share with you in this post.
Recently we were doing the final proofs for a new book about the issues of long term preservation of digital information. I came across a discrepancy in two separate entries on the same object that introduced its own issue about information preservation.
The book, Digital Dark Age: a cautionary tale, is a collaboration between the Parramatta Heritage Centre and the Powerhouse Museum and draws on the graphic art work of Matt Huynh. It looks at the issues associated with the storing of personal and society’s information records using technology that is likely to be obsolete in a few short years.
One of the Museum’s objects that feature in the story is a Sumerian clay tablet which is a record of a financial transaction that took place 4000 years ago.
Sumerian clay tablet, receipt for livestock, 2041 BCE, 85/452
The tablet is mentioned in the body of the text and in a glossary of objects. A translation of the cuneiform script on the tablet in the body text referred to a receipt for ‘..five sheep, one lamb and four grass-fed male kids..’. Later in the object glossary the caption referred to ‘receipt issued- Total: five grass-fed sheep, Total: one lamb. Total: four male kids’.
I drew a red ring around both entries and made a note to find out whether the sheep or the kids had been grass-fed and wondered if it was me who was the duffer who had incorrectly transcribed the information from the acquisition record or whether I could blame someone else.
I went to the Collection’s database record and found that the transcriptions for the front and back sides of the tablet were the source of the error. Obviously who ever transcribed the information from the original paper file had made the mistake. (The tablet had been acquired in 1985 before the museum had a computer based collection records system.) That let me off the hook.
So I went to the original file to find out the true identity of the grass-eaters but again found the accession form had the same discrepancy.
I had decided that modern museum professionals should all hang their heads in shame and that we would have to get the cuneiform translated again when I found a note at the very back of the file – the original translation.
Translator's notes for Sumerian clay tablet 85/452
Click above image to see the original transcription.
Note to self: if my records are going to be preserved I’ll have to make sure they are correct.
I have just returned from Cairo after a tumultuous few days caught up in the demonstrations in Egypt. I was meant to be there for 6 weeks undertaking research for my PhD before leading an independent 24-day tour of Egypt, “From Alexandria to Abu Simbel” for Alumni Travel in Sydney. Since I was staying in a hotel located at the epicentre of the protests and demonstrations (adjacent to Midan Tahrir, also known as Liberation Square), I had a unique vantage point and was able to witness everything from the burnt out National Democratic Building to the looted businesses, roaming tanks, armed soldiers and snipers, the looming presence of fighter jets and army helicopters overhead, as well as the waves of peaceful and then potentially dangerous protests. Fortunately, I left before the exchange of Molotov cocktails, stones and other forms of ammunition broke out.
As I am a naturally very curious person with a passion for museums and cultural heritage, I couldn’t resist making a visit (actually, a few visits!) into Midan Tahrir to check on the well-being of Egypt’s national museum of antiquities and to see what was happening with the protests more generally. In this rather extraordinary blog post, I thought I would share with you some of my observations and perhaps also provoke some thought around what the role of a national museum is during an uprising – does it play any part in building and/or maintaining a sense of solidarity and national pride with its people or is the museum made redundant?
As you will see in the photograph above, the Egyptian Museum (the pink building) is located in a very vulnerable position in the heart of Midan Tahrir. To give you some idea of its location in context, behind it is the Ramses Hilton hotel, to the left is the ex-National Democratic Party building and to the far left is the new Ritz-Carlton Hotel (the old Nile Hilton) which is currently under construction. In front of the Museum is the site for what is believed to be a new car park, although it has looked more like a demolition zone for longer than I care to remember!
Above and below is how the Egyptian Museum looked when I made a visit only a few months ago (in November 2010). It’s quite a contrast to what I have just experienced, as you will see! Take particular note of the National Democratic Building behind it.
The Egyptian Museum was founded by French archaeologist Auguste Mariette in 1858 (it was also Mariette who founded what is today known as the Supreme Council of Antiquities, now subsumed into the Ministry of Antiquities). The initial Museum was located in Bulaq, just outside of Cairo, and moved to its present location in 1902. A new Museum, known as the Grand Egyptian Museum, is currently under construction and due to open not far from the Giza Plateau in 2012-2013. The Museum consists of two floors. Downstairs is a chronological arrangement of artefacts from the Predynastic Period to the Roman Period (upon entry visitors are greeted by the colossal statue of Amenhotep III and his wife Queen Tiye) and upstairs objects are arranged thematically. Some of the best known displays here include the contents of Tutankhamun’s tomb, the Royal Mummy and animal mummy rooms and the royal finds from Tanis.
What first struck me when looking at the Museum was the vast number of armed guards stationed in the Museum’s courtyard and on the roof. Each guard was equipped with an automatic rifle and bayonet and their faces were eerily disguised with visored helmets. Normally, the Museum’s courtyard is bustling with tourists taking happy snaps, but on this occasion, they were conspicuously absent. Also conspicuously absent were the many coaches and taxis which typically pull up outside the Museum. These were replaced with tanks, army personnel vehicles and protestors.
At the time I was in Cairo, the government imposed a curfew from 4pm – 8am, which technically meant no one was allowed outside their home during these hours. Many people in Midan Tahrir, however, disobeyed these orders to continue their protesting, but in other parts of the city it was simply too dangerous to be out since the military had been authorised to ‘shoot to kill’. I stayed out in Midan Tahrir until 6pm on Sunday 31st January, during which time two fighter jets flew low and fast over the square. Every time they flew over, the protestors either erupted in a huge roar (to show that they would not be intimidated) or dropped their jaws in surprise (there seemed to have been little indication they were coming until they were directly overhead!). As a bit of a fluke, I managed to capture the sound of the jets flying over while shooting some of the banter outside the Museum (see below).
The National Democratic Building, of whose charred remains you can see throughout many of my photos, was set alight the day before I arrived in Cairo and understandably sparked a lot of concern for the safety of the Museum. As far as I could tell, the fire didn’t affect the Museum – although there was some evidence of spot fires around the rear of the building and many burnt out vehicles belonging to the tourist police, government organisations and private individuals.
The city of Cairo has also become a canvas for anti-Mubarak slogans, and I am afraid some of the external walls of the Museum did not escape this. Most of the slogans, translated from the Arabic, read ‘Down with Mubarak!’, ‘He will go!’ and ‘Get out!’ (in addition to many others which weren’t quite as savoury in their expression). A lot of these slogans were also spray painted onto the tanks.
On the day I arrived in Cairo, the media reported that the Egyptian Museum had been broken into. The Minister of Antiquities in Egypt, Dr Zahi Hawass, reported that only 13 out of hundreds of display cases were damaged and 70 objects broken, all of which he claims can be repaired. Among these include a New Kingdom dated coffin, two skulls and a gilded walking stick belonging to Tutankhamun. The new Museum shop was also looted and many replica objects stolen by thieves under the false impression that these were in fact the ‘real deal’. I filmed the coverage of one of these reports on local Egyptian television via my iPhone, which you can see below. This footage shows armed guards patrolling the Museum and some detail shots of a damaged Middle Kingdom dated model boat, a wooden statue and other funerary goods.
While it is not appropriate for me to comment on the country’s political situation here, I should at least point out that the riots of the last week or so are said to have been fuelled by criminals who were released from prison, and more recently, pro-Mubarak supporters. During the time I was in Midan Tahrir, the protests were peaceful and I felt quite safe. There were even many opportunities for me to chat with protestors and share in some spreads of figs, dates, nuts, bananas, wafer biscuits and soft drinks! During these chats, the most common sentiments I heard from the protestors was that they were against violence, they were proud to be Egyptian and they cared for the state of the monuments and museums in their country. Hawass recalls a similar response on his website, “…the people in the streets defend the museums, monuments and sites. When I came into work today, I had to pass through a checkpoint. When the men in the Popular Committees running the checkpoint saw me, they asked ‘Sir, how is the Museum?’. These men may not know how to read or write, but they are worried about their cultural heritage”.
I should also point out that life in many parts of Cairo and the rest of Egypt have been going on as normal despite the uprisings and there continues to be many opportunities for prayer, reflection, downtime and social banter, even in Midan Tahrir itself. This is something the media rarely shows. For example, as you will see in the image below, people have been sleeping the night in the square, cooking food, praying and protesting – after all, no matter what the occasion, people still have basic human needs to fulfil.
One of President Mubarak’s responses to these uprisings has been the dismissal of his existing cabinet and the installation of a new one. Notably, among these new appointments to his cabinet is the former Director of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, Dr Zahi Hawass. He now holds the post – Minister of Antiquities. Before this, the Supreme Council of Antiquities fell under the Ministry of Culture and earlier, the Ministries of Tourism and Education. Until now, it had never been given a government department in its own right. The decision to make this change during the uprisings demonstrates just how powerful and influential Egypt’s museums and monuments are, in addition to Dr Hawass himself, to the political landscape of the country.
I guess in light of the many requests Egypt has made of overseas museums to repatriate Egyptian antiquities in recent times, it is also imperative that the country be seen to be doing everything in its power to show that they can adequately care for their own cultural heritage. After all, UNESCO and other heritage bodies have been knocking on their door to see if international intervention is necessary to protect their monuments and collections from harms way. Dr Hawass’s new appointment, however, must be doing the trick as the recently released “ICOM Preliminary Report on Museums in Egypt” was, according to Zahi, based “mostly on the statements I made over the past week and those posted here on my website”. In other words, there is no chance of shipping out the Egyptian Museum’s contents to Europe or the USA any time yet!
I think the Museum as a statement of national pride and identity does in fact have a bigger role to play in the mentality of the people during these uprisings than what many may initially assume. Not only is the physical presence of the Museum always there at the heart of the protests (given its prominent position in Midan Tahrir), but it is a word on the lips of the Egyptian people across all strata of society. I’d be interested to hear what you think.
To read more about the Egyptian Museum during these uprisings, I recommend you visit Dr Hawass’s website here (Dr Hawass has been keeping a daily blog about the situation of Egypt’s cultural heritage and you can also subscribe to his RSS feed) or visit Cambridge University’s Egyptology Resources here.
This collection of Roman-British pottery was presented to the Sydney Technological Museum (as we were called at the time) in 1907 by the city of Colchester, England. I encountered it 103 years later when Paul Donnelly asked me to research some additional information for the museum’s database. As a second-year archaeology student at Sydney University, I found the collection particularly fascinating as an example of how artefacts can acquire a double history – first in their use in ancient times, and then as part of the modern relationship between Australia and Britain.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
In Roman times, Colchester was a centre for the production of bricks, wine, coins, and pottery – it was the only part of the Roman province of Britannia to produce Samian/terra sigillata ware (albeit only briefly). Most of the objects in the Powerhouse’s Colchester collection are of forms discovered in the more than 30 kilns discovered in the area, while others are distinctively of Gaulish origin; the fragments grouped under registration number A688 bear the markings MOXIVSF[ECIT] (“Moxius made this”) and [OF]PRIMI (“workshop of Primus”), which can be traced to potters’ workshops in Lezoux and La Graufesenque respectively. The locally-produced objects are generally for domestic use, and include cups, flagons, bowls, cooking-pots, drinking-cups, vases, and an oil lamp.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
The artefacts’ second history began in 1906, when Richard T. Baker, the curator of the Sydney Technological Museum, received a miniature reproduction by W.H. Goss of the ‘Colchester Vase’, the original of which was excavated in Colchester in 1848 and depicts four gladiators and a hunting scene. Having corresponded with the curator of the museum at Colchester Castle (Arthur G. Wright) regarding the details of the original vase, it seems that Baker was alerted to the dearth of Roman antiquities in the museum in Sydney. In 1907 he wrote to Wright again, asking if he could spare some artefacts from Colchester’s extensive collection since there was “not a single specimen of old Roman or Saxon pottery” at the Sydney Technological Museum. The committee of the Colchester Museum “at once agreed to present a series of Roman antiquities” to Sydney, and the 37 items (catalogue numbers A664-A700) arrived in August 1907; the Sydney Technological Museum’s annual report for that year recorded that “The Borough of Colchester Corporation Museum presented a very valuable collection of Roman and British pottery … dating back to the 1st century, A.D.”.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
Colchester itself has a long and illustrious history: as Camulodunon (“Fortress of Camulos”, the Celtic war god) it was the capital of the Trinovantes tribe, whose request for Roman assistance against the rival Catuvellauni tribe gave Julius Caesar the opportunity to invade Britain in 55 and 54 BC; as the Latinised ‘Camulodunum’, Pliny the Elder mentioned it in AD 77 in the earliest historical reference to a town in Britain; as Colonia Victricensis, it was the first Roman town in Britain, and then the first capital of the Roman province; in AD 61, it was razed to the ground by Boudicca and the Iceni, as it had no defences and only 200 soldiers, and the Romans moved their provincial capital to Londinium. The town was rebuilt quickly, this time with a 2.4m thick, 6m high and 2800m long stone wall, but never quite regained its earlier importance.
Sources:
MRS 4 Letterbooks, Vol 23, 1906/323
MRS 4 Letterbooks, Vol 25, 1907/270
Department of Public Instruction, Technical Education Branch. Technological Museums: Annual Report, 1907.
Hawkes, CRC & Hull, MR 1947. Camulodunum: first report on the excavations at Colchester, 1930-1939. Oxford: Society of Antiquaries.
Hull, MR 1963. The Roman potters’ kilns of Colchester. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Harrison Jones (intern with P. Donnelly), November 2010.
We currently have an Intern with us from the United States working on our collection of Greek antiquities. In this post, he shares with us a little about his personal story and the nature of the project he is working on:
I am a Curatorial Intern at the Powerhouse Museum from the United States and my name is Matthew Sawina. For the past few months, I have been working with 20 of the Museum’s Greek ceramic vessels from antiquity ranging from an 8th century B.C. Corinthian aryballos to a 4th century B.C. Sicilian red-figure lekanis with cover. I have been undertaking a myriad of tasks, under the supervision of Curator, Dr Paul Donnelly, including researching and writing about each of the vessels and improving their documentation for the web.
I know what you are thinking, how did an American end up at the Powerhouse Museum in Australia? There is a quote that I go by – “Don’t tell me what a man knows; tell me where a man has been” -Anonymous. This quote might seem like quite the paradox coming from a guy pursuing a career in academia and museums, which requires the never ending pursuit of knowledge (all the while being an American!), but I digress. To me, the quote encapsulates the never ending pursuit of knowledge that we all seek in this wondrous and exciting world that still holds for us so many secrets. Wouldn’t you agree?
To follow the quote and, ultimately the quest, a Bachelors degree (I have a BA majoring in Ancient Greek History) and living only in the United States, simply put, is not enough! Along my quest, which is still in its infant stage, I have met many different people from all cultures and ethnicities, thus growing my knowledge, and it has led me to live in multiple countries – three continents and two hemispheres. But, there is more to come…
So, this is how I ended up at the University of Sydney pursuing a Master of Museum Studies. My internship at the Powerhouse Museum is a component of this degree (we have to do two internships altogether – my first internship was conducted in the Registration Department of the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago).
At the Powerhouse Museum, I get the joy of coming in and working with objects many centuries old. I like to compare the Museum to a box of chocolates, you don’t know what you’ll get until you open the box up. Each and every object has its unique story to reveal and I have had the pleasure to help unravel the stories of some objects for which I will be sharing with you in a series of posts over the coming weeks. These include a black-painted Campanian askos that has original finger print marks around its rim, a mis-fired Sicilian red-figure lekanis, and an intriguing Corinthian aryballos.
It’s only fitting that during National Archaeology Week we should have, as our mystery object, an actual archaeological find. This artefact is made of kaolin and it measures 36mm length x 20mm width. A small hole runs all the way through it. It has only just been acquired into the Museum’s collection and it will be on display at the Signal Station (Sydney Observatory) over the weekend of 29-30th May.
*Hint* It will help if you read my earlier post here. Also, the orientation of the artefact in this particular image is not necessarily the orientation when it is used.
Is it part of a…?
a) stove lighter
b) smoking pipe
c) oil lamp
d) gunpowder storage case
e) tool for shaping gunflints
May 16-22 marks National Archaeology Week. To recognise this, we have developed a small display of archaeological finds at the Powerhouse Museum (on show now – late July) and another display in the Signal Station on site at Sydney Observatory (May 29-30).
The finds come from the 2008 excavations conducted by the New South Wales Government Architect’s Office and Casey & Lowe Pty Ltd in the grounds of the Signal Station adjacent to Sydney Observatory. Specifically, they were excavating Fort Phillip, a strategic stronghold built in 1804-06 (but never finished). The Fort was built in the most commanding position overlooking Sydney Cove and served as a defence against the potential threat of rebellion by convicts. It was partially demolished in the 1850s to make way for Sydney Observatory.
Image courtesy of Casey & Lowe Pty Ltd
Some highlights from the excavations include the discovery of a bomb-proof chamber used in storage and retreat (which also revealed evidence of grapeshot and European gunflint, the latter of which is rare to find in Australia), two anchor points for the original flagstaff and artefacts related to the domestic occupation of both the Fort and the inhabitants of the Signal Station (built in the late 1840s and occupied right up until the 1990s).
Image courtesy of Casey & Lowe Pty Ltd
Excavations at the site intermittently continue and new finds were being made as recently as April 2010 – including the discovery of what appears to be lead shot used as ammunition in flintlock pistols.
Image courtesy of Casey & Lowe Pty Ltd
Dawn Rose, from the Sydney Observatory, put together a video snapshot in mid-April documenting some of the story (see below).
You can find out more about the excavations on the Sydney Observatory blog and, of course, by visiting our displays! See here.
I’m starting to notice a bit of a theme amongst some of the entries for our 1st birthday competition – stories about mysterious sightings in the Museum, ghosts and other morbid tales! So, perhaps it’s a good time to raise some objects from the dead again in part 3 to our ‘Death in the Museum’ series! The following provides a snapshot of the Museum’s small, but representative collection, of Ancient Egyptian funerary objects which I presented at one of the Museum’s Talks After Noon sessions to cooincide with Halloween last year.
Many people assume that the Ancient Egyptians were obsessed with death and for good reason – they spent their whole lives preparing for it! But, in fact, it was quite the opposite. The Ancient Egyptians were actually obsessed with life. They believed that death was a necessary interruption to achieving eternal life, so long as on earth they practiced piety to the gods, mummification and were buried with statuary and other funerary equipment in their tomb.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
Our first object is the earliest grave good in the Museum – it is an example of ‘black-topped’ Predynastic ware. It most probably comes from el-Badari in Upper Egypt and dates to around 4500BC. Remarkably, vessels like this were hand formed and burnished rather than glazed. They typically appeared in small quantities in the graves of private individuals.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
This is a kohl jar used for holding black cosmetic eye paint. It is made from Egyptian alabaster and dates to the Middle Kingdom, around 1900BC. Kohl jars like this first appear in the mid-late Old Kingdom in the burials of women, often with mirrors, palettes and jewellery such as…
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
…this pair of faience beaded necklaces. Faience is a ceramic material made from crushed quartz or quartz sand with small amounts of lime and plant ash or natron and glazed. We do not know the date or provenance of these examples, and it is possible that these beads were loose and re-threaded into jewellery in contemporary times.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
Faience was also the preferred material for shabtis figures. Shabtis are small statuettes of the deceased, which are mummiform in shape that performed the laborious tasks required for the production of food for their owners in the afterlife (such as sowing seeds, harvesting crops and irrigating the land). This blue-glazed shabtis (above) comes from Deir el-Bahri and is inscribed “The Osiris, overseer of granaries, Djed-khonsu-iwf-ankh, justified”. Shabtis became so important to the Egyptian belief system that by the New Kingdom, shabtis boxes were developed which held 365 worker shabtis (one for everyday of the year) and 36 overseer shabtis which told the workers what to do.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
An overseer shabtis was distinguished by a whip held in one hand. This particular example belonged to In-peh-ef-nakht and dates to the Third Intermediate Period (around 1000BC). Shabtis from this time are characterised by the seshed headband which hangs down the back.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
This is a bronze statuette of the god, Nefertum, who is identified by the lotus flower surmounted by two tall plumes on his head. Nefertum was linked with the gods Ptah and Sekhmet and formed part of the divine family of the Memphite area.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
This is Harpocrates – the Greek name for the child god Horus, identified by the side lock of hair and finger in his mouth. To the Greeks, Harpocrates was the god of silence and secrecy. This particular example most probably dates to the Ptolemaic period around 300BC.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
Apart from statuary, gods were immortalized in the form of amulets. Amulets are protective charms which were frequently worn on necklaces and wrapped inside mummy bandages. This amulet depicts Isis seated with her son, the child god Horus suckling her breast (unfortunately, Isis’ head and shoulders are missing) with his head propped up in her left hand. Amulets like this served to protect both women and children in the physical world as much as in the afterlife.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
This amulet is of the Hippopotamus god Taweret, who was the protector of women and childbirth. This example dates to the Saite Period and probably comes from Saqqara or Memphis.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
The scarab beetle, the embodiment of the god Khepri, was an important symbol to the Egyptians of rebirth. Scarab amulets like this were typically threaded onto a larger beaded net which shrouded the mummy of wealthier Egyptians, along with the four sons of Horus – Imsety, Duamutef, Hapi and Qebehsenuef.
Collection: Powerhouse Museum
This is a true little souvenir of the late 19th – early 20th century; a fragment of mummy cloth and a lock of a female mummy’s wig, possibly that of a Queen from the 18th Dynasty, mounted and framed by Professor Grafton Elliot Smith, an Australian born Egyptologist. And, underneath the mummy cloth it says, “Piece of mummy wrapping of Rai, nurse of Queen Nefertari, wife of Ahmosis I”.
If you would like to discover more about the scope of our collection of Egyptian and related antiquities, click here. My colleague, Paul Donnelly, also published a very comprehensive article on our Egyptian amulets collection in Mediterranean Archaeology in 1999.
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