Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations (Archive Archaeology, 3) 9782503600185, 2503600182

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Archival Historiographies

Archive Archaeology General Editor Professor Rubina Raja, Aarhus Universitet Advisory Board Professor Jennifer Baird, Birkbeck, University of London Dr Olympia Bobou, Aarhus Universitet Dr Lisa R. Brody, Yale University Art Gallery Dr Jon Frey, Michigan State University Professor Christopher Hallett, University of California, Berkeley Dr Fotini Kondyli, University of Virginia

VOLUME 3

Archival Historiographies The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations Edited by

Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

© 2022, Brepols Publishers n.v., Turnhout, Belgium All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. D/2022/0095/152 ISBN: 978-2-503-60018-5 e-ISBN: 978-2-503-60019-2 DOI: 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.128873

Printed in the EU on acid-free paper

Contents List of Illustrations. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii 1. Introduction

OLYMPIA BOBOU, AMY MIRANDA, and RUBINA RAJA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards: Archive Archaeo­logy and the Provenance of the Pottery from the House of the Frescoes at Knossos

EMILIA ODDO. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

LISA R. BRODY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0: Answering Past Critiques with Linked Open Data (LOD)

ANNE HUNNELL CHEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery: Exploring the Archives of the Anglo-American Excavations of 1928–1930 and 1930–1934

LISA BRODY and RUBINA RAJA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

6. Harald Ingholt’s Fieldwork Diaries: Legacy Data of the Early Twentieth Century

RUBINA RAJA and JULIA STEDING. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83

7. The Ingholt Archive: The Impact of Archives on Palmyrene Studies and Syrian Cultural Heritage Preservation

AMY MIRANDA and RUBINA RAJA. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

8. Perspectives on Funerary Sculpture from Roman Palmyra through the Harald Ingholt Archive

DITTE KVIST JOHNSON and AMY MIRANDA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn: Challenges and Results (2018–2021)

PATRICK M. MICHEL. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129

10. Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor, Uni­ver­sity of Münster: The Untapped Potential of the Dörner Archive

MICHAEL BLÖMER and EMANUELE E. INTAGLIATA. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145

11. The Site of the Archive: Responsibility and Rhetoric in Archival Archaeo­logy of the Middle East

J. A. BAIRD. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161

Index. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175

List of Illustrations 1. Introduction — Olympia Bobou, Amy Miranda, and Rubina Raja Figure 1.1. The Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 Figure 1.2. An archive sheet from the Ingholt Archive showing a sarcophagus in situ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards — Emilia Oddo Figure 2.1. Plan of the House of the Frescoes.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Figure 2.2. A page from Mackenzie’s daybook, showing the trenches and the progress of the excavation of the House of the Frescoes in its first days.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Figure 2.3. A page from Evans’s notebook focusing on some of the pottery from the House of the Frescoes.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Figure 2.4. Transcription of sketch of the House of the Frescoes from Evans’s 1926 notebook. . . . . 14 Figure 2.5. The Guide’s plan of the House of the Frescoes indicating the pottery’s findspots. . . . . . . 15 Figure 2.6. Box 1471 from the Strati­graphical Museum, including pottery from the House of the Frescoes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Figure 2.7. The wooden label from Box 1471.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Figure 2.8. Wooden label for Box 1468.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Figure 2.9. Wooden label for box 1474.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Figure 2.10. Sherds from the same pot but found in two different N contexts.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos — Lisa R. Brody Figure 3.1. Title page from Wunsover (High School Yearbook), 1927.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Figure 3.2. Aerial view of Dura-Europos, 1932.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 Figure 3.3. West wall of Assembly Room, Synagogue, 1932–1933.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Figure 3.4. Herbert Gute, sketch of Gute and workman removing wall paintings, 1934.. . . . . . . . . . 26 Figure 3.5. Back of one of the wall paintings from the Synagogue, showing wood and plaster support, 1933–1934.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Figure 3.6. Herbert Gute, sketch of Gute drawing pottery in his studio at Dura-Europos, 1934.. . . 28 Figure 3.7. Shield painted with scenes from the Iliad, mid-third century ad, poplar planks and pigment, Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Figure 3.8. Gute holding a fragment of the painted shield and creating the watercolour copy, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

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Figure 3.9. Herbert Gute, ‘Wooden Shield with Scenes from the Iliad’, 1935 or 1936, watercolour on paper.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Figure 3.10. Gute’s copies of the Synagogue paintings hanging in classrooms at Yale Uni­ver­sity, 1930s or 1940s.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Figure 3.11. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of men bringing wagons down from the excavation, 1935. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Figure 3.12. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of boats on the Euphra­tes River, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . 31 Figure 3.13. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of a man holding a fish at market, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . 32 Figure 3.14. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of pulley system bringing water up from the Euphrates, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Figure 3.15. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of local man in profile, 1935. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Figure 3.16. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of local man named Sheik Favess, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . 33 Figure 3.17. Stringed instrument, leather, wood, and animal hair, Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Figure 3.18. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of local man playing stringed instrument, 1935.. . 33 Figure 3.19. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of man dispensing medicine on the excavation, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Figure 3.20. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of eggs being collected from workmen on the excavation, 1935. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Figure 3.21. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of Frank Brown on the excavation, 1935.. . . . . . . . . 34 Figure 3.22. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of Clark Hopkins and Robert du Mesnil du Buisson having drinks in the courtyard of the excavation house, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 Figure 3.23. Herbert Gute, personal photograph of excavation team members with the team’s car, 1935. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Figure 3.24. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of excavation team members in local dress, 1935. . . . 35 Figure 3.25. Herbert Gute, sketch of his room at the excavation, 1935. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Figure 3.26. Herbert Gute, sketch of his studio at the excavation, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Figure 3.27. Herbert Gute, sketch of his shower at the excavation, 1935.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Figure 3.28. Herbert Gute, sketch of a game of horseshoes, 1934.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Figure 3.29. Herbert Gute, sketch of competitors measuring throws in horseshoes, 1934.. . . . . . . . . . 37 Figure 3.30. Herbert Gute, painting of large limestone cult relief from the Mithraeum, 1935.. . . . . . 39

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0 — Anne Hunnell Chen Figure 4.1. Detail image showing the texture left by brushstrokes in plaster.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46 Figure 4.2. Screenshot of an interactive visualization produced via the Wikidata Query Service.. . . . . 51

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5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery — Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja Table 5.1. Inventory list of the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery Gerasa Excavation Archive.. . . . . . . . . . 56 Figure 5.1. View looking east towards the ‘Cathedral’ on Fountain Court from St. Theodore. . . . . 61 Figure 5.2. Looking across the Fountain Court from the south with the Temple of Artemis and the Ottoman House visible in the photo.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 Figure 5.3. The Fountain Court from south-east.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62 Figure 5.4. Remains of the shrine to ‘Holy Mary, Michael, Gabriel’ at head of shrine(?). ’. . . . . . . . . 62 Figure 5.5. View down the Great Staircase towards the main street, looking east. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 Figure 5.6. View of stairs from the main street, looking west, with the east end of the Fountain Church or ‘Cathedral’ at top of flight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 Figure 5.7. Forecourt of the Great Propylaea of the Sanctuary of Artemis looking east, with the later church that was built into the propylaea visible.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 Figure 5.8. The Atrium with the church behind it.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 Figure 5.9. Room on south side of stairs; the arch’s voussoirs are cut out of old columns.. . . . . . . . . . 65 Figure 5.10. South wall of stairs, view from south to show construction with older stuccoed columns most likely dating to Late Antiquity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 Figure 5.11. Looking west across the main street towards the Fountain Church and Court.. . . . . . . . 65 Figure 5.12. General view looking west from near the Church of Procopius in the south-east of Jerash. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66 Figure 5.13. Reconstructed lamp. Negative number: D122. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66 Figure 5.14. Complex around St. John the Baptist, from north-west looking into common atrium. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66 Figure 5.15. Church of Sts Cosmas and Damianus to north-west.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 Figure 5.16. Baptistery between the apses of St. John the Baptist and St. Cosmas.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 Figure 5.17. Baptistery attached to St. Theodore viewed from above.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 Figure 5.18. View of Baptistery, to show earlier building.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 Figure 5.19. Columns south of nave in the Cathedral or Fountain Church.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 Figure 5.20. Pilaster capital on street north of Propylaea. Early Roman period. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 Figure 5.21. Capital used in construction of stairs. Early Roman period.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 Figure 5.22. Pilaster capital from anta in front of the Great Stairs. Most likely second century ad.. . 69 Figure 5.23. Byzantine capital retrieved from the east wall of the ‘Cathedral’.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 Figure 5.24. Byzantine capital from the east wall of the ‘Cathedral’. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 Figure 5.25. Keystone from the arch, which spanned the top of the flight of stairs.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 Figure 5.26. Architectural elements found in clearing St. Theodore.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70

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Figure 5.27. Stones found in clearing stairs.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 Figure 5.28. North support of Shrine of B. V. M. at top of stairs; originally part of a ceiling block.. . 70 Figure 5.29. Stones from architrave over the stairs, resting on the columns still in fountain.. . . . . . . . 70 Figure 5.30. Doorway of room on south side of stairs to show the size of the stones.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 Figure 5.31. Base of anta at the south of stairs.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70 Figure 5.32. Glass found in 1929.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Figure 5.33. Wheel-made pottery found in 1929. Seventh–eighth centuries ad.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71 Figure 5.34. Pottery found in 1929. Seventh–eighth centuries ad.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Figure 5.35. Handmade pottery found in 1929. Middle Islamic vessels.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Figure 5.36. Lamps found in 1929, so-called ‘Jerash Lamps’ and early Islamic lamps.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 Figure 5.37. Stone ware found in 1929. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 Figure 5.38. Bronzes found in 1929.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 Figure 5.39. Stucco head found north of stairs in 1929. Roman period.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 Figure 5.40. Various stone fragments found in 1929.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 Figure 5.41. Jewellery found in 1929.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74 Figure 5.42. View of Ajlun Castle (B467).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 Figure 5.43. View of the main entrance to Ajlun Castle (B468). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 Figure 5.44. View of one of the inner halls of Ajlun Castle (B469).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 Figure 5.45. View of one of the upper levels of Ajlun Castle (B470).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 Figure 5.46. View of the entrance tower of Ajlun Castle (B471).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 Figure 5.47. View of Ajlun Castle from below the glacier with a view of the rough bossed lower courses of one wall corner.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76 Figure 5.48. View of Ajlun Castle from below the glacier (B473).. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Figure 5.49. View of the monumental podium at Ain Kerawan, which today is built into the modern water pumping station in Jerash.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Figure 5.50. View of the exterior of the mosque in Suf.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Figure 5.51. View of the interior of the mosque in Suf.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 Figure 5.52. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 Figure 5.53. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78 Figure 5.54. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 Figure 5.55. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 Figure 5.56. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79

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6. Harald Ingholt’s Fieldwork Diaries — Rubina Raja and Julia Steding Figure 6.1. Ingholt with reliefs from the tomb of Malkû.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84 Figure 6.2. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 3: ground plan of hypogeum U.. . . . . . . 85 Figure 6.3. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 1: reference to the inscription’s publication in the journal Berytus.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 Figure 6.4. Ingholt’s interview in the Danish magazine Ude og Hjemme, 5 May 1929.. . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Figure 6.5. Excavations in Hama.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Figure 6.6. Tomb of Barʿa.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88 Figure 6.7. Ingholt’s sketch of a sarcophagus from the tomb of ‘Atenatan.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 Figure 6.8. Screenshot of parametric 3D model of the hypogeum of Ḥairan.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90 Figure 6.9. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 4: drawings of tesserae that Ingholt saw in the Collection of Dandurin.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 Figure 6.10. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 2: inscriptions from the hypogeum of Nasrallat.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Figure 6.11. Ingholt by the tomb of Malkû.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93 Figure 6.12. Workers in Palmyra during excavation. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 Figure 6.13. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 1: list of workers and their payment and a fingerprint that proves that they received the money.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95 Figure 6.14. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 5: cross-reference to earlier diaries that discuss hypogeum O.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96

7. The Ingholt Archive — Amy Miranda and Rubina Raja Figure 7.1. A thank-you letter to Ingholt from the director of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.. . . . . 102 Figure 7.2. PS 772. Loculus relief with female bust. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105 Figure 7.3. PS 252. Loculus relief with bust of priest and female bust.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106 Figure 7.4. PS 675. Loculus relief with female bust. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106

8. Perspectives on Funerary Sculpture from Roman Palmyra through the Harald Ingholt Archive — Ditte Kvist Johnson and Amy Miranda Figure 8.1. PS 1391. Complete sarcophagus with portraits. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115 Figure 8.2. PS 1391. Sarcophagus before and after it was reconstructed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116 Figure 8.3. PS 1391. Complete sarcophagus and a detail of the female figures from the lid. . . . . . 117 Figure 8.4. PS 61. Archive sheet with a photograph of a man posing next to the sarcophagus lid . . 119 Figure 8.5. PS 61. Sarcophagus lid with five portraits. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120

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List of Illustrations

Figure 8.6. PS 61. Sarcophagus lid with five portraits. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121 Figure 8.7. PS 61. Archive sheet with a photograph of the sarcophagus lid with notes. . . . . . . . . . 122 Figure 8.8. PS 61. Sarcophagus lid shortly after its discovery.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123 Figure 8.9. PS 67. Banquet relief depicting four individuals.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124 Figure 8.10. PS 67. Archive sheet for PS 67 with multiple annotations.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn — Patrick M. Michel Figure 9.1. Stone slab (lintel) with Baalshamîn depicted as an eagle.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130 Figure 9.2. Palmyrene inscription on limestone.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131 Figure 9.3. Tiresias Database.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136 Figure 9.4. The Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database on CATIMA.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136 Figure 9.5. The Reconstruction Argumentation Method Database. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137 Figure 9.6. Byzantine structures in the Blender file.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138 Figure 9.7. Embroidery activity.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142

10. Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor — Michael Blömer and Emanuele E. Intagliata Figure 10.1. Contact print from the Dörner archive.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146 Figure 10.2. Main travel routes and sites visited by Dörner and Hoepfner in 1961 and 1962.. . . . . 148 Figure 10.3. Break down of the photo­graphs of the 1960s surveys by subject.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149 Figure 10.4. Selected pictures with people as subjects. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 Figure 10.5. Theresa Goell and Friedrich K. Dörner in the excavation camp at Eski Kăhta in 1954.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152 Figure 10.6. Main sites explored by Dörner and his team in the vicinity of Arsameia.. . . . . . . . . . . . 154 Figure 10.7. Photograph of the ‘mosaic field’ taken during the campaign of 1965.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155 Figure 10.8. Detail of the mosaic discovered in the ‘mosaic field’ in 1965.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156 Figure 10.9. Woman preparing food and tea in Eski Kăhta in 1956. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157

11. The Site of the Archive — J. A. Baird Figure 11.1. Copy of agreement regarding the expedition to Dura-Europos made in 1933.. . . . . . . 165 Figure 11.2. Screenshot of Dura-Europos record from ‘Syrian Heritage Archive Project’.. . . . . . . . . 167 Figure 11.3. Pages from Clark Hopkins’s 1931 field notebook at Dura-Europos.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168 Figure 11.4. Scanned page from the photo­graph album of Maurice Pillet.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169

1. Introduction Olympia Bobou, Amy Miranda, and Rubina Raja Aarhus University

Figure 1.1. The Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. © Rubina Raja.

A

rchaeo­logical and historical archives are valuable sources of information on the distant past, but are also dynamic in how they continue to evolve from their formation through the present day. Thus, archives are also evidence of the more recent past and, in the case of archaeo­logy, chart the development of the field from its beginnings. Archaeo­logical data from fieldwork is not often gathered with the intention of creating a formal archive, and the documentation from excavations is not reliably handed down to the next generation of scholars. Similarly, archaeo­logical legacy data, of which there is an embarrassingly rich quantity, is not always utilized — instead, valuable information and documentation sits in boxes or on shelves waiting to be rediscovered. Moreover, such data often ends up never being used by anyone else than the excavation directors and the team members. This volume is the third volume in the series Archive Archaeo­logy, a series founded with the intention to bring focus to archival materials relating to archaeo­ logy — be it fieldwork, museum and collection archives, or even diaries or notes done by people who travelled and visited archaeo­logical sites.1 The series, so to speak, embraces archival material in its broadest sense, aiming at bringing the importance of the data and new discover1 

[accessed 2 February 2022].

ies hidden in these archives to the forefront of current research. There is no doubt that discussions about open access to data and open data in general are important to the field and have urged us to work further on this topic. As such, over the last years, these discussions have driven our research agenda within the project Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives (funded by the ALIPH Foundation) and encouraged us to produce as solid research on the Ingholt Archive as possible.2 In addition to our field-specific aims in advancing the possibilities of archaeo­logical archives and legacy data, our work on the Archive Archaeo­logy project also focuses on cultural heritage preservation.3 The Syrian conflict of the past decade has caused suffering to people and their heritage alike. The site of Palmyra, historically important and politically charged, has been a victim of this conflict, and its rich cultural heritage has been damaged. One way to mitigate the losses is to turn to archival material, and, through that, reconstruct what has been lost. Harald Ingholt excavated in Palmyra and studied Palmyrene art all his life.4 His photo­g raphic archive is an invaluable source of information, containing documentation images and notes on objects, while his diaries contain precise information about his excavations and his finds.5 (Fig. 1.1) This rich material had been digitized but it has only now been made available to the public. The project has three main objectives: (1) to publish and make the digital archive accessible online to the public in a searchable 2   [accessed 2 February 2022]. 3  For a list of cultural heritage resources, see [accessed 2 February 2022]. 4  For a recent bio­g raphy of Ingholt and his legacy data, see Bobou and others (forthcoming a). See also Raja and Sørensen 2015; Raja 2021a; 2021b. 5  For the archive, see Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021; Bobou and others (forthcoming b). For the excavation diaries, see Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021; Raja and Steding 2021.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 1–7 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130469

Figure 1.2. An archive sheet from the Ingholt Archive showing a sarcophagus in situ. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

form and to publish the excavation diaries including a full assessment of the graves documented in these, (2) to assess damages and losses of Palmyrene cultural heritage based on the primary evidence collected in the unpublished archive and the diaries, and (3) to reconstruct lost and damaged contexts based on the evidence collected in the archive. Thanks to the information collected on the archive and the excavation diaries, and together with the research already conducted by the Palmyra Portrait Project in preparation of this project, it will be possible to recontextualize and recreate artefact assemblages that have been affected by the war in Syria.6 (Fig. 1.2) The project can furthermore help identify and trace looted antiquities. The context of damaged and 6 

For the Palmyra Portrait Project, see [accessed 2 February 2022].

destroyed antiquities can be reconstructed and situated within the framework of Palmyrene archaeo­logy. Since the material has been made into an open data resource, it is now possible for a range of individuals and institutions to perform further research with the published material.7 This will be a major step forward in documentation practice, and will give the people of Palmyra access to lost heritage. The project, in addition to yielding the open dataset — now freely available to anyone with Internet — and an in-print edition of the archive with commentary and biblio­g raphy, has been instructive to us as archaeo­logists. Meaning, the work conducted within the Ingholt Archive has allowed us to expand and develop the methodo­logies we employ in our work on Palmyra’s art and archaeo­logy, and our theoretical frameworks. 8 Much forthcoming research on Palmyra’s funerary sphere — artistic and epi­g raphic programmes, for example — finds its foundation in the archival material, 9 but the project has also produced scholarship on the history of Palmyrene archaeo­logy, using Ingholt’s life as a lens, and there is much potential within the archive to further develop and nuance the field’s historio­graphy.10 7 

Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021. Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2022; Miranda and Raja 2021; forthcoming. 9  For example, Bobou and others 2021; Bobou, Romanowska, and Raja 2021; Raja, Bobou, and Romanowska 2021. For a full biblio­g raphy of the work of the Palmyra Portrait Project, see [accessed 2 February 2022]. 10  For example, Bobou and others (forthcoming a). 8 

1. Introduction

The Present Volume This volume is a product of our developing thoughts and approaches to archaeo­logical archives expanded to include a set of colleagues working on archival material in various capacities. It is not a handbook and it does not claim to be comprehensive in any way, but it is an agenda volume and very much a display of work in progress, which invites further discussions and deliberations on archaeo­logical archives and asks the central questions: How should we work on archaeo­logical archives in order to make them accessible to a broader academic community and beyond? What value may such archives hold? What problems arise from working with such material? How do we avoid pitfalls when doing archive archaeo­ logy? And can we develop a best practice for how to make archaeo­logical archives accessible, while acknowledging that they are very diverse in nature? We, in this volume, want to forefront archival material in its own right — usually physical material that more often than not goes uncommented and unpublished — or is only published partly as illustrations of often different issues than its archival contexts. Usually therefore such material never enters the academic dialogues about how knowledge about material evidence was curated when coming into existence and since then. This volume highlights the potentials of archaeo­logical archives and legacy data, and underlines their value as both data source and also living document. Since the mid-1990s, the humanities and social sciences have developed an increased interest in the knowledge of archives (as well as their ‘lost’ data), and this socalled archival turn has been slowly adopted by archaeo­ logy. Although some may see the archaeo­logical archive and legacy data as mere sources of information — points to create or expand a dataset — there are others who see the development and utilization of archival material over time as archaeo­logical practice. Meaning, that sifting through documents is just as valid and essential to the discipline as active fieldwork. At the very least, the two practices complement each other and such reciprocity between fieldwork and archival work is essential to the production of rigorous research. Yet, archival work, as something fundamentally different from fieldwork, often does not receive the same attention or funding as excavation projects — there remains a bias that favours the generation of ‘new’ data over the (re-)discovery of ‘old’ data, despite the fact that such data may have large implications for understanding and moving new research forward.

3 Thus, an aim of this volume is to highlight the range of research performed on archaeo­logical archives. Each chapter is a fresh interpretation of legacy data, providing new information on past fieldwork, but the papers also offer methodo­logical and theoretical directions that archaeo­logy can go in with archival material at the core. Thus, the volume complements published field reports as it interprets and comments upon archaeo­logical data. Yet, it is the emerging genre of archaeo­logical literature that also complements historio­graphy: archive archaeo­ logy, we suggest, extends beyond just publishing data or writing a history of the field; it develops how research is performed, nuancing and adding texture to our picture of both distant and recent pasts. Archive archaeo­logy allows researchers to go deep, as the chapters demonstrate. The volume has its origins in a session of the Archaeo­ logical Institute of America’s annual meeting in January 2021. The virtual panel, ‘Archive Archaeo­log y and Cultural Heritage: Documentation in Conflict Zones’, investigated and analysed how archival material can complement traditional archaeo­logy, and offer alternatives to excavation when sites are inaccessible. This focus on the inaccessible is particularly relevant and highlights the potential of archives for heritage preservation work: several sites and areas in the Near East, Africa, and Asia, are in or near active war zones, or have been destroyed in the process of industrialization and economic development. Often, the archival material related to these sites is the only documentation available. The panel also considered how the variety of archival material accessible to us presents problems: first, of conservation and preservation for future generations, second of dissemination and accessibility. What are the best ways for making the material available to researchers worldwide? Publication is the traditional answer to this question, but new techno­logies offer appealing alternatives, whose efficacy, however, has not been tested by time. A third problem is that of balancing information dissemination with safeguarding of sensitive data, preventing further destruction of endangered cultural heritage. The chapters in this volume offer different methodo­ logical approaches to the investigation and dissemination of archival material, as well as a critical appraisal of the meaning of archives. The volume’s geo­g raphic scope — the eastern Mediterranean and Middle East — highlights the archaeo­logical work in this area during the twentieth century and its continued resonances today. These resonances have substantial range: the volume addresses issues from traditional publication of data to the digital

4 realm, such as reconstructions of archaeo­logical sites or the creation of online databases. More than making data accessible, which the chapters advocate for, the volume strives to move cultural heritage preservation forward through a variety of suggestions by the authors. Although digitization and the internet allow the contributions to reflect upon dissemination of knowledge on a global scale, the personal repercussions of archival data in heritage preservation remain important: engagement with local communities cannot be ignored. In ‘Going Backwards to Move Forwards: Archive Archaeo­logy and the Provenance of the Pottery from the House of the Frescoes at Knossos’, Emilia Oddo reflects upon her personal experience with the legacy data of the large-scale excavations at Knossos, Crete, conducted by Sir Arthur Evans between 1900 and 1935. As Oddo points out, there was never a final publication of the buildings or the finds, and she has taken up the challenge of working with one-hundred-year-old data. She retraces the steps she took to understand the data collected within the context of the House of the Frescoes, charting the highs and lows of working with legacy data, and expands our knowledge of the site. Moving forward in time, Lisa Brody investigates the Gute Archive in her chapter, ‘Herbet J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos’. Brody’s approach uses the life of Gute as a lens through which to understand the archival material, including Gute’s illustrations — the detailed copies of wall paintings and wooden shields from Dura-Europos. The chapter demonstrates the entanglement of ancient history and early twentieth-century bio­graphy. Also contributing to the archival archaeo­log y of Dura-Europos, is the chapter ‘Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0: Answering Past Critiques with Linked Open Data (LOD)’, by Anne Chen. Using the Yale Digital DuraEuropos Archive (YDEA), Chen explores how the data held by Yale Uni­ver­sity can be best digitized and shared through Web 2.0 and LOD. Her careful consideration of past critiques on the digitization of archival material has allowed the project to consider best practices in democratizing archaeo­logical data, and to challenge the ‘long-held privileged assumptions’ in curating online collections. In the contribution by Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja, ‘The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery: Exploring the Archives of the Anglo-American Excavations 1928–1930 and 1930–1934’, a new research project is presented, which has taken shape through the intensification of collaborations between the Centre for

Olympia Bobou, Amy Miranda, and Rubina Raja Urban Network Evolutions and the Palmyra Portrait Project, both based at Aarhus Uni­ver­sity, and Yale Uni­ ver­sity Art Gallery over recent years. While Raja has extensive fieldwork experience from the site having codirected the Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project since 2011, Brody has the curatorial experience of working with archival material stemming from American expeditions in the Near East. Together they have begun to the explore the potential of the archival material relating to the Anglo-American and later exclusively American excavations in Gerasa, a Decapolis city, in modern northern Jordan and here present their first observations and the potential which a full publication of the archive holds. A series of four chapters on Palmyra, Syria, is begun by the contribution ‘Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries: Case Studies on Legacy Data’ by Rubina Raja and Julia Steding. The chapter provides an in-depth look at the site of Palmyra through the excavation diaries of the Danish archaeo­logist Harald Ingholt who conducted fieldwork in the site’s south-west necropolis during the 1920s and 1930s. The diaries have been published by the chapter’s authors (together with Jean-Baptiste Yon) both in print and as open data. The chapter provides insight into both the challenges of working with legacy data and Palmyra’s archaeo­logical history. In addition to his excavation diaries, Harald Ingholt also kept a photo­graphic archive of Palmyrene funerary portraiture that is discussed in the next two chapters. Amy Miranda and Rubina Raja, in ‘The Ingholt Archive: The Impact of Archives on Palmyrene Studies and Syrian Cultural Heritage Preservation’, highlight outcomes and potentials of the Ingholt Archive through a series of case studies. The authors advocate for making data freely accessible and for utilizing archives in cultural heritage preservation. Palmyra has lost too much of its culture over time — from Roman emperors destroying the city, to early modern vandals, and the destruction of the present — and archives can provide many insights into the city’s ancient culture, whether it has been lost or scattered across the globe. Work on the Ingholt Archive is further highlighted by Ditte Kvist Johnson and Amy Miranda in their chapter ‘Perspectives on Funerary Sculpture from Roman Palmyra through the Ingholt Archive’. Utilizing their knowledge of the Ingholt Archive, the authors investigate Palmyrene funerary portraiture and offer insights into ancient sculptural practice. The case studies present three different outcomes of archival research and its implications for understanding Palmyrene sculpture in context.

1. Introduction A fourth chapter on Palmyra by Patrick Michel, entitled ‘Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn: Challenges and Results (2018–2021)’, unpacks the recent research performed by the Collart-Palmyre Project of the Uni­ver­s ity of Lausanne. The project’s aims, described here, are to publish the archive, produce 3D models of the now destroyed Temple of Baalshamîn, and fight illicit trafficking. Moreover, the project is active in the local Syrian community, providing pedagogical materials to keep cultural memory alive. Michael Blömer and Emanuele E. Intagliata present the archive collections of the ancient historian and epi­ grapher Friedrich Karl Dörner in the chapter ‘Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor, Uni­ver­ sity of Münster: The Untapped Potential of the Dörner Archive’. The authors comb through the photo­g raphic archive, introducing the reader to the wealth of untapped material on the archaeo­logy of this region, while also developing a picture of how Dörner perceived the area. Thus, there is potential for deepening our understanding of the ancient past and the twentieth-century archaeo­ logical work not only through the recovery of new data, but also in the reassessing of known data. The volume closes with a reflection by Jennifer Baird, ‘The Site of the Archive: Responsibility and Rhetoric in Archival Archaeo­logy of the Middle East’. Presenting Dura-Europos and Palmyra as case studies, Baird considers the ethical responsibilities of archaeo­logists in our work with archival material as well as the material and epistemo­logical problems posed by archives. As archaeo­ logists search for ways to manage legacy data, the chapter asks whether digitization and dissemination projects will ever be sufficient and explores the potential of archives as sites in themselves. Thus, with these ten chapters, the volume presents a diverse group of projects and reflections on sites across the eastern Mediterranean and Middle East, each offering unique perspectives on the potentials of archival material and legacy data in archaeo­logical scholarship. The volume is not exhaustive, but is only a first step in advocating for a widespread use of archival material in archaeo­logical practice with a particular focus on cultural heritage preservation. Many of the projects presented here are in their earliest days and have great potential to continue developing outcomes based on the archaeo­ logical archive. Furthermore, the archives under discussion in this volume are more than mere sources of data — the potential of archives is not only in what they contain; archives deserve to be studied in their own right.

5

The Future of Archive Archaeo­logy Having explored some of the potential of archives in archaeo­logical scholarship, the chapters are clear in their conviction that the employment of legacy data is essential to responsible archaeo­logical practice. This volume, and the book series Archive Archaeo­logy, are first steps in the advocacy work needed on behalf of archaeo­logical archives and legacy data. From here, there are myriad directions in which archaeo­logists can go with such datasets, but a clear discussion that must occur is what constitutes a best practice. Best practices imply methods that produce the highest quality results, and in archive archaeo­logy this can mean many things. A first practice that is critical to archaeo­logical archives, which this volume touches upon, are the ethical responsibilities in handling this data. This means, of course, proper care of the archival material, but responsibility is multifaceted. To fully understand their datasets, researchers must be aware of the historical context in which they were produced. In archaeo­logy, the archives do not always reside in their country of origin: to take the Ingholt Archive as an example again, though an archive of Palmyrene material, the data resides in Denmark rather than its native Syria. Moreover, the Ingholt excavation diaries are written mostly in Danish, which makes them challenging to use for anyone without training in this particular language. These examples of physical limitations and language barriers are an inherited form of colonialism, as it was not a significant question in the 1920s and 1930s that excavation documentation should travel away from the archaeo­logical site or be recorded in the local language.11 This is to say nothing of the bias of those who created the archives; researchers need to ask themselves what assumptions are held in the archive. These inherited problems impact decisions made today in the digitization and dissemination of archives. Researchers must be conscious of how they publish and in what language, for example. As some chapters in this volume explore, there is not one way to publish an archive and some practices are more beneficial than others. So, in developing best practices, publication strategy is crucial. The goal of publishing archival material and legacy data is to share resources and disseminate knowledge responsibly. In-print and e-publications are the most traditional, but are expensive projects to fund not to mention the financial restrictions on purchasing 11 

Miranda and Raja (forthcoming).

Olympia Bobou, Amy Miranda, and Rubina Raja

6 such large publications. Open access, while theoretically making the data outcomes freely available, can prove challenging for researchers or those who ‘own’ the data: researchers are often confronted with author-facing publication fees and permissions can be difficult to secure. Open data presents similar problems in that those who ‘own’ an archive may be reluctant to relinquish the control they have over the dataset once it has been released. Yet, open access and open data are valuable tools for making archaeo­logical archives accessible. Perhaps, then, publication strategies are strengthened by a blended approach — there is no one way to disseminate knowledge. The project Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives is one example of a blended publishing method. The project published the archive in a commented version both in print and as e-book, and published the ‘raw data’, the archive sheets, online as open data under CC-BY 4.0 licence.12 With this strategy, the archive is made widely available online, but also the in-print and e-publication present the data with commentary: the authors provide transcription, interpretation, and biblio­graphy in English for each sheet. As scholars work to better share their data and make conducting archaeo­logical research more democratic, there will be some ideas around dissemination that are more successful than others. As this volume highlights, there are a variety of ideas surrounding the potential of archives and the methods by which they are studied, used, and shared, all of which deserve exploration. Thus, this volume is a tribute to the as of yet untapped potential of archaeo­logical archives and legacy data, and advertises the innovations of scholars who have begun to employ such data in their research. Looking forward, we anticipate that archives will continue to play a critical role in archaeo­logy and change the shape of the field through a radical sharing of data.

12   [accessed 2 February 2022].

Acknowledgements The authors are grateful to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, for granting the rights to publish the Ingholt Diaries and Archive. The authors thank the ALIPH Foundation and the Carlsberg Foundation for generously funding Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives (grant held by Rubina Raja, agreement 2019-1267) and the Palmyra Portrait Project (grant held by Rubina Raja, agreement CF15-0493), respectively. Since 2012, when the Palmyra Portrait Project was founded by Rubina Raja, several individuals have contributed to the digitalization and study of the material. The authors wish to thank everyone who has participated in and contributed to the projects. Furthermore, this work was supported by Centre for Urban Network Evolutions (under grant 119) held by Rubina Raja. Finally, we wish to thank Rosie Bonté, Tim Barnwell, and Martine Maguire-Weltecke at Brepols Publishers for the professional handling of this volume throughout the publication process.

1. Introduction

7

Works Cited Bobou, O., A.  Miranda, and R.  Raja. 2021. ‘The Ingholt Archive: Data from the Project “Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives”’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 6, 1–10 . —— . 2022. ‘Harald Ingholt’s Twentieth-Century Archive of Palmyrene Sculptures: “Unleashing” Archived Archaeo­logical Material of Modern Conflict Zones’, Journal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeo­logy and Heritage Studies, 10.1: 74–101. Bobou, O. and others (eds). 2021. Studies on Palmyrene Sculpture: A Translation of Harald Ingholt’s Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur, Edited and with Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— (forthcoming a). ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyra: Documenting the Oasis City through the Legacy of Berytus’ Founder’, Berytus. —— (forthcoming b). The Ingholt Archive: The Palmyrene Material, Archive Archaeo­logy, 2, 4 vols (Turnhout: Brepols). Bobou, O., I. Romanowska, and R. Raja. 2021. ‘Historical Trajectories of Palmyra’s Elites through the Lens of Archaeo­logical Data’, Journal of Urban Archaeo­logy, 4: 153–66. Miranda, A. and R. Raja. 2021. ‘Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives: A Case Study in the Accessibility and Potential of Archives’, Antiquity . —— (forthcoming). ‘Considerations in Archive Archaeo­logy: Past and Present Colonialism in the Study of Palmyra’s Archaeo­logy and History’, American Journal of Archaeo­logy. Raja, R. 2021a. ‘“Den smukkeste Kvindebuste, jeg endnu har set”: The Palmyra Excavation Diaries of Harald Ingholt, 1924–1928’, in R. Raja, J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds), Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 23–70. —— . 2021b. ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyrene Sculpture: A Lifelong Relationship – Even a Century Later’, in O. Bobou and others (eds), Studies on Palmyrene Sculpture: A Commented Translation of Harald Ingholt’s 1928 Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur, Edited and with Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 1–28. Raja, R., O. Bobou, and I. Romanowska. 2021. ‘Three Hundred Years of Palmyrene History: Unlocking Archaeo­logical Data for Studying Past Societal Transformations’, PLoS ONE, 16.11: e0256081 . Raja, R. and J. Steding. 2021. ‘Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries from his Fieldwork in Palmyra – an Open Data Online Resource’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 8 . Raja, R., J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds). 2021. Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4, 2 vols (Turnhout: Brepols). Raja, R. and A. H. Sørensen. 2015. Harald Ingholt and Palmyra (Aarhus: Fællestrykkeriet Aarhus Universitet).

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards: Archive Archaeol ­ ogy and the Provenance of the Pottery from the House of the Frescoes at Knossos Emilia Oddo Tulane Uni­ver­sity

Introduction The end of the nineteenth century and the first quarter of the twentieth century represent a high point in the archaeo­logical exploration of the Aegean Bronze Age. In the span of only a few decades, several large-scale excavations, encompassing the Greek mainland and the islands, first unearthed the Bronze Age from the darkness of a legendary past, bringing it into the sunlight. Between 1900 and 1935, British archaeo­logist Arthur Evans conducted the first systematic excavation of the Bronze (or Minoan) Age (c. 3000–1150 bc) settlement of Knossos on Crete. Evans uncovered the remains of a town centred on a large building. This elaborate and lavishly decorated building, which became known as the Palace, served as the political, economic, and ritual focus of the town and the surrounding territory. Evans unearthed several smaller buildings surrounding the Palace, which were either elite residences or had more specialized functions.1 The site had been continuously occupied from the Neolithic to the Roman period. The peak of its activity can be placed in the Late Bronze Age, particularly in the Neopalatial period (between 1750 and 1500  bc), when Knossos was the largest and most influential settlement on Crete and in the southern Aegean.2 Those exciting years of archaeo­logical exploration produced vast quantities of finds. Evans gave an account of his work at Knossos in his five-volume magnum opus, The Palace of Minos, published between 1921 and 1935. Although The Palace of Minos is an important source of documentation on the buildings and the archaeo­logical discoveries, it is not (and never intended to be) a complete publication. Consequently, with a few exceptions, much of the Knossos excavation is still largely unpublished.3 Adams 2017, 79–82. Whitelaw 2012 and 2017. 3  See, for example, Mountjoy 2003 and Hatzaki 2005 for the publication of two important buildings excavated by Evans, namely the South House and the Little Palace.

In this chapter I discuss my recent experience of archive archaeo­logy, linked to the study of the House of the Frescoes at Knossos and its finds that Evans excavated ninety-nine years ago, in 1923. I will present my work on the excavation archive of the House of the Frescoes and how it allowed for a new interpretation of the building and its deposits. I will focus, in particular, on the work I conducted to contextualize and analyse the pottery from the excavation. Archive archaeo­log y can be described as metaarchaeo­logy, given that it involves ‘digging up’ an original excavation by exploring its archival data, lifting it from a different, more recent past and working with the inevitable differences between ancient and modern archaeo­logical practices.4 The words ‘going backwards to move forwards’ in the title reference this concept. Publishing an old excavation represents a step forwards in archaeo­logical knowledge, yet the process progresses by going backwards. The researcher is not returning to the field as such but revisiting the archive, from where the excavation process itself will be pieced together. My discussion of the House of the Frescoes has a twofold aim: first, I intend to reveal what steps proved necessary to assess and identify all the links between all the available information, in so doing reducing the distance between 1923 and the present day. Second, I will demonstrate how the results of this archival investigation affected my interpretation of the building and its finds.

The Excavation of House of the Frescoes at Knossos The House of the Frescoes (Fig. 2.1) was excavated in two campaigns. The first, conducted between May and July 1923 by Evans and his field director, Duncan Mackenzie,

1  2 

4  See Gorogianni 2008 (chapter 1) and 2013, for a diachronic overview of archaeo­logical practice in Greece, its impact on modern archaeo­logical projects, including a reflection on approaches to legacy excavations.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 9–21 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130470

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The House of the Frescoes was a small, elite building of Neo­ palatial Knossos, articulated in nine rooms. Despite the small size, its architectural features and location were imposing : the house wa s p o s i ti o n e d i n abundant open space, which made it visible from the Royal Road (and possibly from the east, south, and west too). The single-storey construction and the richly decorated interior made the building unusual. The extensive frescoes, which include elaborate nature and animal scenes, have been hailed as among the most exquisite from Knossos. Evans wrongfully conjectured that the building was residential. In fact, the House of the Frescoes Figure 2.1. Plan of the House of the Frescoes (by V. Fotou and D. Bartzis). had a public function, which might have been ritualistic in nature. Indeed, the one-storied layout and unearthed the entire perimeter of the House of the strictly controlled circulation pattern make the buildFrescoes and the remains of surrounding structures. The ing’s architecture without equivalent in other contemposecond, in 1926, was conducted by Evans alone. This rary elite residential buildings. Such lavish wall decoracampaign consisted of a series of tests below the levels tion is also uncommon in private buildings, particularly reached in 1923 to refine the existing knowledge of the given that some of the icono­graphy suggests ritual conbuilding’s phases of occupation. The House of the Frescoes is located north-west of texts. Certain finds from the building support this ritual the Palace in a prime position on the so-called Royal function, being equipment typical of peak sanctuaries, typically located, as the name suggests, on the mounRoad, a major link between the Palace and the rest of tains. A stone ladle and, in particular, a stone libation the settlement. The most impressive and unexpected find table bearing a Linear A inscription are cases in point. was a stack of colourful fresco (or, more appropriately, The House of the Frescoes was abandoned towards wall painting) fragments on the floor of Room D. It is the end of the Neopalatial period, never to be rebuilt. from these fragments that the building took its name.5 Nevertheless, the building continued to be regarded with respect, as evidenced by events after the abandonment. 5   Despite the name House of the frescoes, Minoan wall paintings are not necessarily made with the ‘al fresco’ technique, perfected in medi­eval Europe. While this distinction is important at the technical level, in this contribution I shall use the word fresco and wall painting

interchangeably, using the term fresco in its generic and non-technical meaning of wall painting, as in the name of the building.

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards Two structured depositions were performed inside the House of the Frescoes shortly after its abandonment: the first is the burial of the two most important rooms of the building (Rooms H and F, Fig. 2.1); the second is the burial of the frescoes, which had been removed and stacked in an orderly manner. Furthermore, for centuries after its abandonment, nothing was built (or allowed to be built) above the House of the Frescoes, which was left in ruins for generations. The local population, who rebuilt the area, sought to commemorate in some fashion the sacredness of the rituals conducted in the building. Centuries after it had begun to lapse into ruin, at the end of the Bronze Age, and once the memory of the role of the House of the Frescoes was lost, the site was gradually built over, as Knossos and its palatial culture fell into decline. In 1928, Evans dedicated a long chapter in his second volume of The Palace of Minos to the House of the Frescoes. The chapter provides a detailed yet concise description of the building’s excavation, architecture, salient finds, and chrono­logy of occupation. Most of the chapter is devoted to analysing what is undoubtedly the most impressive discovery from the building, the painted plaster fragments, which had a special role in Evans’s examination of Knossian art and icono­graphy. For their quality, quantity, and variety, these fragments drove the scholarly interest in the building even in the decades after Evans, while the rest of House of the Frescoes and its finds generally received little attention.6

The 2016–2019 Study of the House of the Frescoes In 2016, almost a century after its excavation, I started the project of studying the House of the Frescoes, with the collaboration of renowned archaeo­logist Vasso Fotou.7 The project aimed to produce a complete publication of the Evans-Mackenzie excavation and included the cleaning of the extant remains of the building, the drawing up of a new plan and the analysis of the architecture and finds. Before focusing on the study of the building’s remains, it was necessary to understand the excavation and its archive. Since our interest was to study what Evans and Mackenzie had left behind, it was important to consider that archaeo­logy as a discipline had changed 6 

Cameron 1965a; 1965b; 1968; 1976; Chapin and Shaw 2006. Oddo 2022. I thank Fotou for her analysis of the architecture (Fotou 2022), used in this chapter. 7 

11 profoundly between 1923 and 2016, both in its theoretical and practical aspects. Modern expectations of excavation, data management, finds collection, and, certainly, research questions are difficult to reconcile with a century-old excavation. In many ways, in fact, the time between 1923 and 2016 seems to weigh more than the several thousand years from the abandonment of the House of the Frescoes to its excavation. Perhaps more importantly, much could have (and did) happen to the remains and finds in the intervening years. Other archaeo­logical explorations and restorations may have changed the site significantly. This makes it difficult to reconcile plans and descriptions by the excavators with what is visible on the ground today. In addition, the original storage of finds changed as more finds were dug up and larger storage facilities were needed. Because these changes potentially resulted in the loss of information, tracking the history of the finds after the excavation is important. The archive is the only way to access the excavation and start making sense of what is there. It is the tool that allows present-day scholars to remove the layers between us, the excavation, and the antiquities and to see the excavation through the eyes of the excavators. Of course, Evans and Mackenzie’s archive is limited to the 1920s, which means that their view of the site does not include later interventions. Therefore, in the case of the House of the Frescoes, ‘going backwards’ implies working on three distinct and complementary aspects: understanding the methods and agenda of the excavators by reconstructing both the excavation and post-excavation processes; reconstructing any later archaeo­logical investigations that may have altered the excavation state of the remains; and assessing the findspot of the extant finds by reconstructing their post-excavation history.

Going Backwards: Understanding the Excavation When trying to reconstruct what is known about the excavation of the House of the Frescoes, three main issues need to be considered. First, the practices employed in the excavation and their implications must be clarified. Second, the integrity of the finds associated with the excavation must be established. Finally, an agreement must be reached on how to make proper use of the excavation archive. In their excavation of the House of the Frescoes site, Evans and Mackenzie focused on unearthing the Minoan remains. By 1923, when Evans’s interest moved to the Royal Road area, a significant part of Knossos had

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ent teams to get to the Minoan remains fastest. The team that removed post-Minoan deposits fastest and reached the Minoan levels first received a reward. Thus, during the excavation of the House of the Frescoes, everything above the Minoan remains was discarded, with only a handful of representative ceramic sherds retained (see below). Notebooks and preliminary reports mention later activity and unearthed remains in broad strokes only. Once the Minoan levels were reached, however, the excavation proceeded strati­g raphically, and the wager system was halted. This method of excavation ensured fast progress and allowed the House of the Frescoes to be fully excavated in less than three months. The second issue to consider is that of the finds, in particular their retention and connection to the excavation. Retention is a thorny issue. Unlike the practice in modern excavations, where all finds are generally kept, in 1923 it was customary to keep only a representative selection of the finds (particularly the pottery) that could help with dating the building’s occupation. During the post-excavation seasons, diagnostic sherds were selected and stored to aid the dating process. The preserved pottery from the House of the Frescoes — only 1300 sherds from an area that covered about 160 m2 and was several metres deep — is a fraction of what was found in the field. Furthermore, the selection of finds was guided mainly by functional reasons. Thus, only the diagFigure 2.2. A page from Mackenzie’s daybook, showing the trenches and the progress nostic pottery, usually fine and decorated, of the excavation of the House of the Frescoes in its first days. Photo courtesy of the was kept, since that is the easiest to date. Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. Consequently, the pottery assemblage presents a disproportionate number of sherds already been brought to light. The House of the Frescoes in fine decorated fabric, with only limited numbers in was excavated through the so-called ‘wager system’. This coarse or plain. method had been used at Knossos since the early 1900s The final issue to consider is the archives, represented and was described by Mackenzie in his 1904 daybook.8 by notebooks, photo­graphs, sections, drawings, and any It required digging wagers, or square trenches measurother visual or written documentation of the excavation. ing 2.5 × 2.5 m or 3 × 3 m, each allocated to an equal The archive of the House of the Frescoes contains both number of workmen (five, at the House of the Frescoes). written and visual material. The most important primary This system encouraged competition among the differsource of the excavation is Mackenzie’s 1923 notebook (or ‘daybook’), a remarkable account of the day-byday operations. Without this source the 2016–2019 8   Mackenzie’s Daybook 2.v.04, 56; Momigliano 1999, 63; project would not have been able to achieve its goals. Hatzaki 2005, 4–5.

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards

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Figure 2.3. A page from Evans’s notebook focusing on some of the pottery from the House of the Frescoes. Of note, his particular interest in the pottery’s decorative motifs, which he often studied in connection with fresco decorations. Photo courtesy of the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

Mackenzie’s narrative is succinct (thirty-six notebook pages) but detailed and provides a precise discussion of the architectural remains that were being uncovered (Fig. 2.2). However, he devoted no attention to the context of the finds, except for references to particular finds (e.g. specific pots, sherds, stone vases). Unfortunately, therefore, the excavation notebook presents no consistent links between finds and their context. In addition to Mackenzie’s daybook, we have Evans’s notebooks from the study seasons that followed the excavation (in 1924, 1925, and 1926) and preceded the production of his chapter in The Palace of Minos (1928). Evans’s notebooks focus predominantly on the notable finds from the excavation, such as the stone libation table inscribed in Linear A found in Room D, the seals, the pottery with elaborate decoration, and the fresco fragments (Fig. 2.3). Unfortunately, there is no notebook from the soundings and other explorations Evans conducted at the site in 1926, and Mackenzie no longer worked at Knossos then. Little visual documentation is preserved from the excavation: no sections, no photo­g raphs, except for a single one of the stack of painted plaster from within the building. In Mackenzie’s notebook, six sketches accompany the narrative: they document the excavation process and represent the remains with precise measurements that can still be followed today (Fig. 2.2). Two preliminary plans of the excavated area survive, both predating the plan published in The Palace of Minos.

What I have described so far is the status of our knowledge of the Evans-Mackenzie excavation and study, which takes us to 1928 (when the second volume of The Palace of Minos was published). Yet, Evans and Mackenzie were not the last people to work at the House of the Frescoes site. Between 1958 and 1959, Nikolaos Platon, then Ephor of Antiquities for Crete, undertook substantial restoration, cleaning, and upkeep of the House of the Frescoes site. In August and September 1959, Platon also conducted a small-scale excavation to further investigate the site’s earlier phase(s), expanding on Evans’s tests of 1926 and excavating more extensively below the 1923 floor levels throughout the building. His excavation revealed several remains of early walls and produced one hundred boxes of pottery. While Platon only summarized these interventions in his notebook, in bullet points, his photo­graphic archive is particularly rich, giving a clear depiction of the work carried out at the site. The state of the site today is predominantly the result of Platon’s operations, to such an extent that if one navigated the remains with Mackenzie’s notebook or with the plan published in The Palace of Minos, one would have the impression that these documents failed to include much that is visible on the ground. Platon’s restorations, in particular, represent an important layer over Evans and Mackenzie’s work. This layer needs to be acknowledged and studied in order to separate it from the ancient remains. This process of separation is the basis for Fotou’s analysis of the architecture of the House

Emilia Oddo

14 of the Frescoes.9 The study of the finds requires a similar process of elimination, in order to repristinate the original assemblage and its context as much as possible.

Boxing and Re-boxing: Sorting through the Pottery Storage Methods A major challenge posed by legacy data concerns the collection and storage of finds, both at the time of the excavation and thereafter. The issue pertains primarily to the storage method of the finds, particularly after the death of the excavators and whenever a new storage facility enters the picture. The finds from the House of the Frescoes are a good case study to illustrate this challenge. In this section, I shall focus on the pottery, since it is the most numerous of the finds. At present, the pottery excavated at the House of the Frescoes in 1923 and 1926 is stored at the Strati­graphical Museum of Knossos. Before the museum’s construction in 1962, however, the pottery was relocated on at least two occasions. Immediately after the excavation, the finds from Evans’s excavations around the Palace, including those from the House of the Frescoes, were kept in the Little Palace, in the so-called Antechamber to the Lustral Area and the Space below the Main Stairs.10 They were stored in baskets, with wooden labels recording the contextual information. By 1931, eight years after the excavation, the pottery had been transferred to more durable wooden boxes. This rearrangement was part of a major enterprise by John Pendlebury, the then curator of Knossos, to preserve the finds from all Evans’s excavations. Since this transfer required a record to be kept of the finds’ contexts, Pendlebury enlisted the help of Evans’s foreman, Emmanuelis (Manolis) Akoumianos. As a result of this relocation work, Pendlebury published the Guide to the Strati­graphical Museum (henceforth, the Guide), a catalogue of all the boxes of pottery and finds. When the construction of the current Strati­g raphical Museum took place, Mervyn Popham, then assistant director of the British School at Athens, oversaw the final relocation of the pottery boxes.11 Between 1923 and 2016, therefore, Evans’s pottery finds, including those from the House of the Frescoes, changed storage location and/or container at least three times. Although each of these relocations was done care9 

Fotou 2022. Pendlebury 1931–1935, 2. 11  For additional information, see Hood and Cadogan 2011, 240. 10 

fully and attentively, there is a risk of some loss of information, such as misinterpretation of the written labels and/or mistakes of attribution. The first transfer, from baskets to boxes, could have been particularly difficult: the baskets might well have deteriorated with time and humidity, and, if they had been stacked on top of one another, the deterioration might have caused the pottery and/or the labels to fall from one basket to another below, thus affecting the integrity of the original contexts. When the finds were transferred to the wooden boxes, this might already have happened, with no trace in our documentation. As a result, there is no guarantee that what is contained in the boxes reflects in all cases what was contained in the baskets. Ascertaining the findspots and re-establishing the integrity of the finds therefore becomes a primary goal of studying Evans’s excavation. The Pottery’s Findspots according to Boxes and Labels Typically, three or four sources can be used to identify the original findspots of pottery and other objects from Evans’s excavations. The excavation archive is the first. For the House of the Frescoes, this archive includes Mackenzie’s daybook, Evans’s notebooks, and The Palace of Minos. The second and by far the most freely available

Figure 2.4. Transcription of sketch of the House of the Frescoes from Evans’s 1926 notebook: the numbers refer to the pottery findspots (E. Oddo and V. Evgenikou).

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards

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Figure 2.5. The Guide’s plan of the House of the Frescoes indicating the pottery’s findspots (Pendlebury 1931–1935, iii: Plans, fig. 22).

and handy resource is Pendlebury’s Guide. The third and most immediate source is the writing on the wooden boxes that contain the finds. In certain cases, the boxes also contain the wooden labels, inscribed in Greek or English, that date back to the time of excavation. I have mentioned how little information on the House of the Frescoes pottery has been preserved in the archive of the excavation. In their notebooks, both Evans and Mackenzie dedicate scant attention to pottery. Nevertheless, a free-hand sketch is included in Evans’s notebook from the 1926 study season. The sketch, conveniently titled ‘Pottery from House of Frescoes’, shows a roughly drawn plan of the building and its immediate surroundings. Evans marked specific areas in and around the building from numbers 1 to 16 (Fig. 2.4; numbers 3 and 11 are missing ). He did not provide any clue to interpret the numbers, so their association with the pottery boxes in the Strati­g raphical Museum or with the Guide is not immediately obvious. Pendlebury’s Guide and the writing on the boxes represent the easiest sources of information with which to trace the provenance of all the Evans-Mackenzie finds contained in the Strati­g raphical Museum. These two sources have been the most common tools used in the study of Knossian material.12 Pendlebury’s Guide provides, for each box, a brief description of the findspot 12  e.g. Mountjoy 2003, Hatzaki 2007. But see also Popham 1970, 14, for a discussion of the potential problems in using the Guide, and the possible sources of mistakes and inaccuracies.

Figure 2.6. Box 1471 from the Strati­graphical Museum, including pottery from the House of the Frescoes.

and general dates for the pottery it contains. Perhaps one of the most useful sections of the Guide is the plan of the various buildings excavated by Evans and Mackenzie, which associates each pottery box with a specific findspot (Fig. 2.5 plan from Pendlebury’s Guide).13 If we compare Pendlebury’s plan with Evans’s sketch, we notice immediately that the findspots marked in each one differ. The Guide gives the impression that the pottery was collected from all over the building and the area around it, while Evans’s plan marks parts of the excavated area only, giving the impression of a sparse sampling. Furthermore, the two plans have different numbering systems: in Pendlebury’s plan, each box or pair of boxes corresponds to a different location inside or outside the building, with no coherent series of adjacent locations. In Evans’s sketch, in contrast, the numbers seem to follow a sequence, starting north-west of the building and proceeding counterclockwise. The Strati­g raphical Museum boxes are the third source of information. They are painted white, and text Pendlebury 1931–1935, 25; Pendlebury 1931–1935, Dating, i, 16; Pendlebury 1931–1935, iii: Plans, fig. 22. 13 

Emilia Oddo

16

Figure 2.7. The wooden label from Box 1471 (Fig. 2.6). The Greek text can be translated as follows: ‘Knossos 1923 From nw of Palace House of the Frescoes with flowers rock[s] sw of the house. N = 0 10. Sherds variety’.

Figure 2.8. Wooden label for Box 1468. The Greek text reads: ‘Knossos 1926 nw of Palace from [illegible] the excavation [illegible] cleaning 1.5 m…1468’.

Figure 2.9. Wooden label for box 1474. The Greek text reads: ‘Knossos 1923 N5 nw of Palace outside House of the Frescoes out of room where was the kiln. Sherds’. Compare to the location indicated for box 1474 in the Guide (Fig. 2.5, II.9).

written in black and red on one side provides some contextual information based both on Pendlebury’s Guide and on the wooden labels. The text includes several numeric codes. Figure 2.6 shows a typical box with pottery from the House of the Frescoes. The K.23 code refers to Knossos (K) and the year of excavation, 1923 (23). P.II is a context code used by Pendlebury that refers to the House of the Frescoes.14 P.II is followed by a number that is part of a progressive numeration (from 1 to 12) linking directly to the findspots marked in Pendlebury’s plan. An additional number, between 1460 and 1478, refers to the Strati­graphical Museum’s internal numeration for all the Knossos boxes. Finally, the text on the House of the Frescoes boxes often includes a code composed of the letter N followed by a number from 0 to 16. There is no clear reference for this ‘N code’ since it was not included in Pendlebury’s Guide. Fourteen of the House of the Frescoes boxes also include wooden labels, inscribed in Greek in pencil (Figs 2.7–2.9). These labels were probably written by a foreman, perhaps Akoumianakis himself. The text on each label is not always easy to interpret, predominantly because of the poor preservation of the pencil writing. In general, these labels provide the year and location of excavation and more specific provenance data. Several discrepancies exist between the Guide, the boxes, and the wooden labels, which are worth pointing out. I will start with a comparison of the Guide and the boxes. While the text on the boxes merges the information from the Guide and that from the labels, it tends to align more with the Guide. However, several differences can be pointed out. First, not all the boxes listed in the Guide can be identified among the material in the Strati­graphical Museum. The same occurs the other way around: some boxes from the Strati­g raphical Museum are not included in the Guide. Second, the text on the boxes clearly includes information from the labels that were not part of the Guide, as in the case of the mysterious N codes. Third, the text on the boxes can include further information on the pottery dates (e.g. 1473). Finally, while both sources agree that P.II 7 is a context that includes several boxes (i.e. 1470, 1471, 1472), only the text on the boxes further differentiates their contexts (‘upper levels’, ‘general’, and ‘outside’, respectively). Nevertheless, it is unclear how such a differentiation was achieved.

14 

Other contexts from Knossos, corresponding to other Evans excavations, have other P numbers (e.g., P.I, P.III, etc.).

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards Adding the wooden labels to this mix produces further discrepancies (Fig. 2.7). The provenance provided on the labels often differs from that on the boxes and in the Guide; at times the differences are substantial. The material from box 1462, for example, is attributed, both by the text on the box and the Guide, to an ‘S. Room’, suggesting finds from a room within the House of the Frescoes. However, the label from the same box reads ‘S. of the House’, suggesting that the finds were collected not from the inside but from the outside of the building. Chrono­logical discrepancies exist too. For example, for box 1468, both the text on the box and the Guide report ‘1923’ as the date when the pottery was collected, yet the wooden label from box 1468 links the finds to 1926 (Fig.  2.8). The difference in date is important, because according to the label, those finds were not collected during the excavation of the House of the Frescoes (1923) but during the 1926 tests — for which there is no other record of finds. The inaccuracies between the Guide, the boxes, and the labels would not surprise anyone who has worked on Evans’s excavations. Indeed, the suspicion that Pendlebury and Akoumianakis made mistakes has been raised before, acknowledging that these mistakes could result in misattribution of the pottery’s context.15 Even when wooden labels are available, it is often difficult to decide what source to follow to corroborate the decision regarding a sherd’s context. However, for the House of the Frescoes, as discussed below, Evans’s sketch offered a definite solution to this problem. The Pottery’s Findspots according to Evans The N code recorded on the boxes and the wooden labels agree in all cases (e.g. compare Figs 2.6 and 2.7). The Guide does not report these codes, probably because they had no apparent meaning, as mentioned above. It was not obvious what they referred to. Yet, their occurrence on the labels is meaningful, since they represent the earliest record of the provenance of the finds. Consequently, understanding the N codes could enable the restoration of context information that is chrono­ logically close to the time of excavation. If we compare the N code to the other numbers included on Evans’s sketch, we notice that both range from 0 to 16. The similarities continue: the descriptions on the labels match the locations indicated in Evans’s sketch, not the sketch 15 

e.g., Popham 1970, 11–14.

17 in the Guide. For example, box 1474 is associated, by the label, to N5, described as an area outside the House of the Frescoes, out of the room where a Roman kiln was found; based on this description, and on the N5, the box must contain sherds from the excavation of the remains east of the building (Fig. 2.9). According to the Guide, however, the sherds from box 1474 are from the inside of the building, specifically Room J, where Mackenzie and Evans reported the removal of a Roman cist tomb.16 Furthermore, the N codes on the labels can be found only on the boxes from the 1923 excavation, suggesting that boxes without an N code (or with a code that is not included in the sketch) may not be from the 1923 excavation but from the 1926 tests. A confirmation of this hypothesis comes from box 1468, dated by the labels to 1926 and in fact linked to an anomalous N26 that is not reported in Evans’s sketch (Fig. 2.8). Like 1468, other boxes without an N code and a label might be linked to 1926, like boxes 1466 and 1476. The result of this reassignment by N codes and Evans’s sketch produces fifteen boxes related to the 1923 excavation and three to the 1926 tests. All of the 1923 N codes are accounted for, with the exception of N6 and N8 (Fig. 2.4). While they are marked in Evans’s sketch, there are neither labels nor boxes for these two. The reassignment produces a picture of the finds’ provenance that is much more in line with the progress of the excavation described in Mackenzie’s notebook than the picture provided by the Guide. Thus, N1 and N2 include material related to the first set of wagers, when the building first started to appear, while the subsequent N3 and N4 come from Rooms F and H, within the House of the Frescoes (Fig. 2.1). No boxes or N codes are associated with the part north of the House of the Frescoes, whose excavation revealed disturbed deposits. 17 Most of the boxes pertain to the excavation of the outside areas surrounding the House of the Frescoes. Again, this is in line with Mackenzie’s notebook, as he discusses in detail the exploration of the building remains both east and west of the House of the Frescoes. Neither the text on the boxes nor the Guide could provide the same correlations with the primary sources of the excavation. The opportunity to link the N code (and hence the boxes) to Mackenzie’s notebook is there16  On the confusion between the Roman tomb and kiln, which probably originated with Evans himself (Evans 1928, 433), see Oddo 2022, in particular chapter 3. 17  Mackenzie’s Daybook 1923, v. 3, 14.

Emilia Oddo

18

Figure 2.10. Sherds from the same pot but found in two different N contexts: the neck sherd is from the inside (Room H) and the body sherd from the outside area east of the building.

of the pottery, paying particular attention to its wear patterns, distribution, and cross joins (sherds that mend together or that belong to the same pot). The result of each of these analyses are summarized below, and they support the validity of the N system to prove the provenance of the pottery from the excavation of the House of the Frescoes. Wear Patterns

fore important, because it allows us to anchor the finds to the excavation. Even though explicit mentions of the finds in the notebooks are rare, as mentioned above, the N code allows scholars to use the notebooks to extract general information about the finds’ contexts. In this respect, the N code allows us to reconstruct what could be defined as ‘irreducible contexts’: while not replacing proper contextual data, it is the closest one can get to the finds’ contexts. For these reasons I argue that the N code represents the original findspots of the pottery, as marked in Evans’s sketch (Fig. 2.4).

Moving Forwards: Interpreting the House of the Frescoes Pottery through the N System The choice between these systems — the N codes, the boxes, the Guide — is important because it affects the distribution of the pottery, which, in turn, has a significant impact on its study and interpretation. For these reasons it is important to test and verify the N system’s connection to the notebooks before accepting the system. The only effective way to do so is through the study

Analysing the wear patterns involves a study of the surface and section of the ceramic sherds. Such analysis is predicated on the notion that, depending on the vicissitudes of the pottery after its deposition, including the conditions in which it was buried, its preservation varies, and any such variation can be observed macroscopically and tracked. For example, there would be a difference in the preservation of sherds that have been carefully buried and those left unburied for millennia. The study of the wear patterns of the pottery from the House of the Frescoes supports the distinction between an inside and outside area, as Evans’s sketch indicated. In fact, the pottery from N12 or N10, from the east of the building, shows dull breaks, faded paint, incrustations, and signs of burning. These patterns suggest waste deposition over an extended period, possibly centuries. This is pottery that was left out in the open air and continually disturbed. The picture changes when the pottery attributed to the inside of the building, as N3 and N4 (Room F and H respectively) is considered. These sherds display sharp breaks and well-preserved surfaces. A few sherds could even be mended to form almost complete vessels. The good preservation of the pottery from N3 and N4 suggests little post-depositional disturbance and protection from outside elements. The analysis of wear patterns therefore supports the findspots according to the N system (Fig. 2.10). Distribution Identifying what was found outside and inside the House of the Frescoes is important as it allows us to study the distribution of the pottery. Although all the pottery from the 1923 excavation is in secondary deposi-

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards tion, the deposits from inside the building differ from outside deposits, reflecting different activities in the different contexts. The pottery can broadly be attributed to three spatial groups: pottery from inside, outside east area, and outside north-west and west area. The two outside areas yielded the most pottery, whether east (N5, N7, N9, N10, N12) or north-west and west (N1, N14, N16). Only three N contexts (N2, N3, N4) include material excavated within the perimeter of the building. An interesting chrono­logical pattern emerges from the pottery in these three groups. All the groups contain plenty of sherds datable to the Neopalatial period, which corresponds to the lifetime of the House of the Frescoes itself. By contrast, the pre- and post-Neopalatial pottery is much less dispersed and appears to be localized to the outside areas. The pottery from the outside areas includes a higher percentage of pre- and post-Neopalatial pottery, which is in line with the various architectural remains attributed to the phases that followed the abandonment of the House of the Frescoes. It is important to remember that this is not a pristine assemblage, but one that was heavily selected — pottery not corresponding to the lifetime of the building might have been discarded, thus explaining its limited numbers. Nevertheless, even given this selection process, the occurrence of pottery from the post-Neopalatial periods, after the abandonment of the building, is particularly interesting, as it singles out N3 and N4 (Rooms F and H) as the two spaces with the least post-Neopalatial pottery. This information becomes especially intriguing when considering that these two rooms are architecturally the best-preserved parts of the building, with floor levels and decorated walls still in place. The lack of post-abandonment pottery and the good preservation of these rooms might imply that Rooms F and H (N3 and N4) were filled and hence not (greatly?) disturbed by later activities, at least until the end of the Bronze Age, when some type of structure was built above Room H. Not all the pottery from inside the building presents the same picture; in fact, N2 includes evidence of later disturbances, with pottery that has wear patterns more compatible with outside areas, as if the deposits were left unsealed and partly exposed to the elements. The postabandonment activities involving N3 and N4 are different from those in N2.

19 Cross-Join Patterns The analysis of the cross-join distribution across the site provides another element in favour of the adoption of the N system. Clearly, this distribution changes depending on whether one adopts Pendlebury’s or the N system, but only the latter allows for the identification of patterns that reflect different behaviour. If we reconstruct the pottery’s provenance based on Pendlebury, the pattern of cross joins is a reminder of other Knossian publications: a chaotic picture of sherds, mixed together, joining inside and outside spaces alike.18 A Pendlebury-based reconstruction suggests that the pottery deposits from all over the building and the surrounding area were equally mixed. The almost inevitable consequence of this view was that no discrete deposits could be identified and that none of this pottery could be linked to either the use of the building and the surrounding area or to the progress of the excavation. With the N system, many cross joins can no longer be identified as such, because several boxes are grouped together, representing a single context from a large area (e.g. boxes 1470, 1471, 1472, 1477 are all from the area east of the House of the Frescoes). The new number of cross joins is twenty-three. While this might seem like a meagre amount, it still shows specific chrono­logical patterns that can be further analysed and interpreted. While only rare cross joins can be dated to the pre-Neopalatial phases, most of them belong to the close of the Neopalatial, the LM IB period (c. 1490–1430 bc). Only in LM IB do cross joins connect consistently in inside and outside areas alike, indicating mixed deposits across the building and surrounding area. It is possible that by LM IB the House of the Frescoes was no longer in use and that this pottery represents rubbish material scattered across the site. When considered in combination with the wear patterns and distribution analyses, the cross joins also reveal mixed deposits. In fact, there is a difference in the preservation of the joins connecting Rooms F and H to the outside: sherds from these rooms are consistently better preserved than those from other areas (Fig. 2.10 above). This observation corroborates the hypothesis of different depositional behaviours between these two rooms and the rest of the House of the Frescoes site. In fact, since all the contexts are secondary deposits, these differences indicate that sherds inside the building were protected, perhaps buried. 18 

The same was concluded by Mountjoy, for example: 2003, 5–6, with illustrations on pages 7–9 (figs iii, iv, v).

Emilia Oddo

20 Discussion

Conclusion

The study of the wear patterns, distribution, and cross joins of the pottery from the House of the Frescoes supports the reassignment of the boxes according to the N system. The reassignment goes beyond proving the N system to be the most reasonable and trustworthy way to reconstruct the pottery’s original findspots. It also helps to outline broad phases of occupation and abandonment of the House of the Frescoes, while pointing to different types of activities at the site. Thus, in many ways, the N system helps to an extent to neutralize the impact of Evans and Mackenzie’s methods of excavation and collection. Nevertheless, the various N contexts still cannot be considered a substitute for strati­g raphy: the N contexts are macro-contexts and represent what can be defined as ‘irreducible contexts’; that is, contexts that cannot be further reduced to gain clarity. The pottery wear patterns indicate a clear distinction between the inside and outside areas, in line with Evans’s sketch and the information from Mackenzie’s notebook. When these patterns are considered in conjunction with the analysis of the cross joins, it shows further that in all cases the best-preserved sherds are from N3 and N4, corresponding to Rooms F and H. Architecturally, these are also the best-preserved rooms in the building. Finally, the cross joins suggest the LM IB, the final phase of the Neopalatial period, as the period when the House of the Frescoes was abandoned and never reoccupied. Perhaps LM IB is when the pillaging of its building material, noted by Mackenzie, started to occur. Thus, the reassignment of the boxes according to the N system produces an impression of the House of the Frescoes site that is quite different from the chaotic picture that emerged from the Guide, where pottery arbitrarily linked almost every space inside and outside the building. Indeed, analysis using the N system provides clear patterns that can be studied and interpreted. Most importantly, these patterns highlight deposits that appear to differ behaviourally. A case in point are the differences observed between the pottery from N3 and N4, compared to other sites, which flag these two rooms and their deposits. Thanks to these observations further analyses could be conducted, and eventually it was demonstrated that these rooms were intentionally filled after the abandonment of the House of the Frescoes, perhaps as part of a structured deposition.

In this paper, a case study of the pottery from the House of the Frescoes served to describe the process that brought me to identify the ‘irreducible contexts’ — or the ‘ground zero’ — of the analysis of the site. These contexts, the N system, are the closest it is possible to get to what the excavators did with the finds back in 1923. Fortunate circumstances led to finding Evans’s sketch, which could then be linked to the boxes, providing the key to understanding the N numbers. It was also fortunate that this reassignment allowed for specific patterns to emerge and be studied, providing an essential step towards understanding the assemblage in relation to the excavation progress and the architectural remains. The N system therefore affected the way I catalogued and interpreted the pottery. This case study has also shed light on the reliability of Pendlebury’s attributions of the pottery to the findspots. Accepting the N system as a more authoritative source than the Guide to provenance the finds triggers a re-evaluation of previous ceramic studies based on Pendlebury. In the case of the House of the Frescoes, Evans’s sketch was helpful to rectify (or clarify) Pendlebury’s mistakes. However, the lack of similar sketches, and the lack of other sources to assess the provenance of the finds, makes it difficult to determine how the pottery can most effectively be classified and used for interpretation. This type of archival work is an aspect of archaeo­logy that hardly ever makes it into the spotlight but it constitutes the daily work of many archaeo­logists. Working on legacy data makes greater demands than expected: it is a difficult process that involves a thorough analysis of the excavation archive and the confidence that this analysis can truly make a difference. For this reason, when working with an old excavation, scholars often have the selfdefeating thought that nothing meaningful or new can really be said about the finds; all that is left is to illustrate them. Admittedly, this is the spirit in which I started my first season on the pottery from the House of the Frescoes. Yet, as in the title of this chapter, the study of the finds, the move forwards, became meaningful only when I allowed the archive to become protagonist and lead the way.

2. Going Backwards to Move Forwards

21

Works Cited Adams, E. 2017. Cultural Identity in Minoan Crete: Social Dynamics in the Neopalatial Period (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­sity Press). Cameron, M. A. S. 1965a. ‘Four Fragments of Wall Paintings with Linear A Inscriptions’, Kadmos, 4: 7–15. —— . 1965b. ‘The Wall Paintings with Linear Signs from the “House of the Frescoes”’, Kadmos, 4: 170–71. —— . 1968. ‘The Painted Signs on Fresco Fragments from the “House of the Frescoes”’, Kadmos, 7: 45–64. —— . 1976. ‘A General Study of Minoan Frescoes with Particular Reference to Unpublished Wall Painting from Knossos’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, Newcastle Uni­ver­sity). Chapin, A. P. and M. C. Shaw. 2006. ‘The Frescoes from the House of the Frescoes at Knossos: A Reconsideration of their Architectural Context and a New Reconstruction of the Crocus Panel’, Annual of the British School at Athens, 101: 57–88. Evans, A. J. 1928. The Palace of Minos: A Comparative Account of the Successive Stages of the Early Cretan Civilization as Illustrated by the Discoveries at Knossos, ii.2 (London: Macmillan). Fotou, V. 2022. ‘The Architecture of the House of the Frescoes’, in E. Oddo, Knossos: The House of the Frescoes, The British School at Athens Supplementary Volume, 51 (London: The British School at Athens), pp. 37–68. Gorogianni, E. 2008. ‘Creation Stories: The Archaeo­logical Site of Ayia Irini, Kea, and the Production of Archaeo­logical Knowledge’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, Uni­ver­sity of Cincinnati). —— . 2013. ‘Site in Transition: John L. Caskey, Ayia Irini and Archaeo­logical Practice in Greek Archaeo­logy’, Aegean Archaeo­logy, 10 (2009–2010): 105–20. Hatzaki, E. 2005. Knossos: The Little Palace, The British School at Athens Supplementary Volume, 38 (London: The British School at Athens). Hood, S. and G.  Cadogan. 2011. Knossos Excavations 1957–1961: Early Minoan, The British School at Athens Supplementary Volume, 46 (London: The British School at Athens). Momigliano, N. 1999. ‘Introduction’, in N. Momigliano (ed.), Knossos Pottery Handbook: Neolithic and Bronze Age (Minoan), The British School at Athens Studies, 14 (London: The British School at Athens), pp. 1–8. Mountjoy, P. A. 2003. Knossos: The South House, The British School at Athens Supplementary Volume, 34 (London: The British School at Athens). Oddo, E. 2022. Knossos: The House of the Frescoes, The British School at Athens Supplementary Volume, 51 (London: The British School at Athens). Pendlebury, J. D. S. 1931–1935. A Guide to the Strati­graphical Museum in the Palace at Knossos; with Knossos: Dating of the Pottery in the Strati­graphical Museum: i, by H. W. and J. D. S. Pendlebury; ii, by E. Eccles, M. Money-Coutts, and J. D. S. Pendlebury; iii: The Plans, by M. B. Money-Coutts and J. D. S. Pendlebury (London: The British School at Athens). Popham, M. R. 1970. The Destruction of the Palace at Knossos: Pottery of the Late Minoan IIIA Period, Studies in Mediterranean Archaeo­logy, 12 (Göteborg: Åström). Whitelaw, T. 2012. ‘The Urbanisation of Prehistoric Crete: Settlement Perspectives on Minoan State Formation’, in I.  Schoep, P. Tomkins, and J. Driessen (eds), Back to the Beginning: Reassessing Social and Political Complexity on Crete during the Early and Middle Bronze Age (Oxford: Oxbow), pp. 114–76. —— . 2017. ‘The Development and Character of Urban Communities in Prehistoric Crete in their Regional Context: A Preliminary Study’, in Q.  Letesson and C.  Knappett (eds), Minoan Architecture and Urbanism: New Perspectives on an Ancient Built Environment (Oxford: Oxford Uni­ver­sity Press), pp. 114–80.

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos Lisa R. Brody Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery

in or around Jeffersonville (Town of Callicoon, Sullivan County) as well as one in the borough of Queens, at least until his father’s death in 1913.3 Rudolph Gute was known as a skilled marksman, having won the championship at the annual national indoor rifle tournament two years in a row, and holding the highest average score for seven years running, from 1902 until 1909.4 Herbert attended Newtown Agricultural High School in Elmhurst, New York (Queens) as a member of the graduating class of 1927.5 He served on the yearbook staff as Art Editor and contributed several drawings to the final publication, including one on the title page (Fig. 3.1). For his personal bio in the yearbook, he selected the quotation ‘If quality be what you desire, here it is’, and his resume included the following activities: Captain Baseball Team; Championship Basketball Team ’27; Track Team; Arista; President Poster Club; President G. O.; Art Editor of Lantern; Service Squad; Cruikshank Medal; Arts and Trade Club.6 Figure 3.1. Title page from Wunsover (High School Yearbook), published by the Graduating Class of Newtown High School, 1927.

H

erbert Jacob Gute was born on 10 August 1907, in Jeffersonville, New York, the son of Rudolph Herman and Martha (Mueller) 1 Gute. He had three older siblings — two brothers and a sister — as well as a younger brother.2 Census records indicate that the family may have maintained a residence 1  Although some publications, both print and online, list his birth year as 1908, the date of 1907 was confirmed by Gute’s son and daughter-in-law, David Gute and Ann Tousignant. I am grateful to them for their assistance and generosity in sharing information about Herbert’s life and career. 2   [accessed 3 May 2021].

Gute in high school was clearly already quite artistic (and obviously athletic as well). During his sophomore year, 1924–1925, he took a Saturday class at the Pratt School of Fine and Applied Arts in Brooklyn.7 3   [accessed 3 May 2021]. 4  ‘Won Shooting Honors’, Republican Watchman, 2 April 1909, p. 1 [accessed 22 April 2021]. 5   Wunsover (High School Yearbook), published by the Graduating Class of Newtown High School, Flushing, New York, 1927, on [accessed 23 April 2021]. 6   Wunsover (High School Yearbook), published by the Graduating Class of Newtown High School, Flushing, New York, 1927, p. 26, on [accessed 23 April 2021]. 7  This information was provided by the Office of the Registrar, Pratt Institute (email on 4 March 2021).

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 23–40 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130471

24

Lisa R. Brody

its historical significance. Motivated by these initial discoveries, the French Académie des Inscriptions et BellesLettres decided to proceed with sponsoring the first systematic excavation at Dura-Europos in 1922. Since Breasted was unavailable to serve as field director for the campaign, the Academy turned to one of its own members, Belgian archaeo­logist and historian Franz Cumont. Cumont led excavations at the site for two seasons, until the region’s political unrest halted the project. After relative peace was eventually established in 1925–1926, it became feasible for institutions to consider resuming archaeo­logical investigations in the area. Yale Uni­ver­sity’s involvement in Figure 3.2. Aerial view of Dura-Europos, 1932. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. the exploration of Dura-Europos was motivated by Russian scholar Michael  I. Rostovtzeff, who had been appointed the Following high school, Gute attended Yale Uni­ver­ sity, from which he graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Sterling Professor of Ancient History and Classical Archaeo­log y at Yale in 1925. Although not a field Arts in 1933. At this time, the university was actively archaeo­logist himself, Rostovtzeff was so enthusiasinvolved in archaeo­logical research at the site of Duratic about the project’s potential that he petitioned the Europos on the bank of the Euphrates River in modernYale Committee on Excavations to collaborate with the day Syria (Fig. 3.2). While a student at Yale, Gute became involved with French Academy in further investigations of the site. With the approval of the committee and the Uni­ver­sity’s the campaign and spent two excavation seasons at Durapresident, James R. Angell, the collaboration between the Europos, documenting finds and creating meticulous plans and drawings. All of his original work from this French Academy and Yale began officially on 15 January 1928, and continued for ten fruitful years of excavation. project is currently held in the Dura-Europos Archives at The Dura-Europos project was overseen initially by the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. Most of it has been digiFrench field director Maurice Pillet (1928–1931), then tized and is available online as part of the Artstor Digital by Clark Hopkins of Yale (1932–1935), and finally by Library’s Public Collections.8 Frank E. Brown, also of Yale (1936–1937). Rostovtzeff, The story of the excavation of Dura-Europos had although not involved in the day-to-day progress of begun a decade earlier in 1920, when British troops the excavations, was the face of Dura-Europos on the under the command of Captain  M.  C. Murphy staYale campus and lectured extensively on the results of tioned at Salihiyah, near Dura-Europos, made a surpristhe fieldwork. The discoveries that came out of Duraing and fortuitous discovery. The troops uncovered sevEuropos made a dramatic impact on both the Yale Uni­ eral well-preserved ancient wall paintings under a large ver­sity community and the general public back in the earthen embankment and immediately recognized their United States. ‘Treasure of Untold Value Found in Lost archaeo­logical significance. The paintings were brought City’ proclaimed the Philadelphia Public Ledger in one to the attention of American archaeo­logist James Henry of the many newspaper headlines that chronicled the Breasted, who was working in Syria at the time. Breasted’s success of the excavation. Hopkins’s published account analysis and publication of the wall paintings sparked an of the entire ten-year expedition, The Discovery of Durainternational interest in the site and a broad realization of Europos, is an invaluable and personalized record of the campaigns, personalities of the team, and daily life dur8  [accessed 21 ing the excavation. The expedition at Dura-Europos was May 2022].

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

Figure 3.3. West wall of Assembly Room, Synagogue, 1932–1933. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

terminated after its tenth year. Although Yale did request and receive a renewed concession to excavate at DuraEuropos for another six years beginning on 1 October 1939, the necessary financial support for the additional seasons never came through. During the sixth year of campaigns, 1932–1933, the team at Dura-Europos made one of their most startling discoveries: a third-century ad synagogue, the walls of its assembly room covered with ‘the most amazing succession of paintings!’9 (Fig. 3.3). Field director Clark Hopkins waxed lyrical about the momentous nature of this find: We stood together in mute silence and complete astonishment. A casual passerby witnessing the paintings suddenly emerging from the earth would have been astonished. If he had been a Classical archaeo­logist, with the knowledge of how few paintings had survived from Clas-

sical times, he would have been that much more amazed. But if he were a biblical scholar or a student of ancient art and were told that the building was a synagogue and the paintings were scenes from the Old Testament, he simply would not have believed it. It could not be; there was absolutely no precedent, nor could there be any. The stern injunction in the Ten Commandments against the making of graven images would be sufficient to prove him right. If, finally, this passerby had been in my shoes, the director of the excavations, responsible for the success of the expedition, and the one who would be credited most with its achievements, then the discovery of the Synagogue that day would be like a page from the Arabian Nights. Aladdin’s lamp had been rubbed, and suddenly from the dry, brown, bare desert, had appeared paintings, not just one nor a panel nor a wall, but a whole building of scene after scene, all drawn from the Old Testament never dreamed of before.10

9 

10 

Hopkins 1979, 130.

Hopkins 1979, 131.

25

Lisa R. Brody

26

Figure 3.5. Back of one of the wall paintings from the Synagogue, showing wood and plaster support, 1933–1934. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.4. Herbert Gute, sketch of Gute and workman removing wall paintings, 1934. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

The team was not able to fully excavate the synagogue or remove any of the paintings until the following season. To protect what had been uncovered, a structure of wooden posts supporting a roof of corrugated iron was erected. Hopkins noted that fortunately the weather was cold and dry rather than rainy and windy, as the latter could have been disastrous for the rare and fragile wall paintings. This potential for devastating loss was made clear when a group of painted plaster fragments were arranged on the ground outside of the protective cover and were completely destroyed by a sudden rainstorm. Quite incredibly for the time, the team were able to use innovative infrared photo­g raphy in an attempt to recover the lost images, but only a single black inscription appeared.11 As plans evolved for the seventh season of the campaign over the summer of 1933, a new staff member was added to the excavation team. Knowing that there would be a great deal of work documenting, removing, stabilizing, and packing the wall paintings from the synagogue (together with all of the other finds), Hopkins invited Herbert Gute, who had recently graduated from Yale’s School of Fine Arts, to join them in Syria. Gute would be working closely with architect Henry Pearson, who had previously worked on the wall paintings of the Christian baptistery with French restorer Émile Bacquet.12 Later, in 11  12 

Hopkins 1979, 136; Snow 2011, 36. Snow 2011, 37.

his account of the Dura excavations, Hopkins described Gute as follows: Herbert Gute, a young and gifted graduate student in the Yale School of Fine Arts, came out to copy the paintings of the Synagogue before they were lifted from the walls. He was a painter of the first order, with a German precision and attention to minute detail. He worked hard, long, and most intelligently. An able athlete as well as a scholar, he added immensely to our recreational activities. He had been a baseball pitcher in high school and quickly excelled in horseshoes. A  keen competitor, he kept daily scores of our doubles matches.13

Elsewhere in the same publication, Hopkins spoke in greater detail about Gute’s particular talent for archaeo­ logical illustration, as well as about the need for his drawings and paintings in addition to photo­g raphic documentation: Herbert Gute […] had been carefully chosen as a competent painter interested in making renderings. How far interest and competence as an artist can carry a new recruit in the type of technical drawing required on a dig is always a vital question. Herb turned out to be a painter of unusual ability; perhaps his German ancestry gave him his flair for meticulous detail. He too was astonished at the extent and richness of the Dura paintings. He recorded them exactly as he saw them, even to the minutest detail on the smallest corner of a panel. Many 13 

Hopkins 1979, 180.

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos of the details of the original paintings were brought out in greater clarity in the copies, and where subsequent fading has occurred, the copies have preserved the original lines and colors visible before the fading. Careful study of fragments, where original colors were best preserved in their original shades, was of valuable assistance in making the copies. To study the combination of color, detail, and design today, one will find the copies better than the originals. Of course, one supplements the other, and both are indispensable.14

On 2 October 1933, Hopkins was on his way to Syria as he wrote to Rostovtzeff back in New Haven: ‘We are on the Atlantic, en route to Dura, and I am mighty glad to be on the way again. Here’s to a season which will surpass all other seasons! […] Pearson and Gute are with us and we are all in the best of health and enjoying the trip very much’.15 Most of the excavation team members that season had been at the site before and were considered ‘veterans’, but Hopkins noted that Gute and another new addition, Francis B. Comstock, ‘fitted in easily and comfortably’.16 At the time that Gute was participating in the Dura excavations, he was engaged to a woman named Catherine Schaefer. He sent dozens of postcards to her from Syria, some of which had a short note written on the back of a printed photo­graph and some of which featured a hand-drawn sketch on one side and writing on the other. These cards remained in the possession of the Gute family and were generously shared with the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery in 2010, during the preparation for the exhibition Dura-Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity. Gute’s son and daughter-in-law, David Gute and Ann Tousignant, gave their permission for the Gallery to scan the cards and add them to the digital archives of the Dura-Europos excavation. This series of cards is an invaluable resource for understanding not only Gute himself, his personality, and his artistic style, but also the day-today routine on a 1930s excavation. During the course of the seventh campaign, 1933–1934, the paintings of the Synagogue underwent the painstaking process of being lifted from the walls. First, while still in situ, they were placed under a protective scaffold and photo­g raphed, the goal being that the scale of the photo­g raphs remained consistent so that they could be edited together in a photo14 

Hopkins 1979, 207. 15  Letter from Hopkins to Rostovtzeff, 2 October 1933, DuraEuropos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 16  Hopkins 1973, 180.

27

montage.17 Each section of the wall was removed, with Gute and Henry Pearson overseeing the local workmen. This process is documented by one of the postcards that Gute sent to Catherine (Fig. 3.4). The accompanying description of the sketch reveals the delicacy and difficulty of the task: I found this drawing I made last year. It represents your H. J. starting to take down the frescoes a year ago, when he didn’t know Arabic at all. As a result my Arab helpers did nothing but watch me do the work, for I couldn’t tell them what I wanted them to do. I  am trying to hold a piece on the front, and at the same time plaster it on in the back.18

Upon removal, each section of wall painting was backed with plaster and a wooden lattice support, designed by Pearson (Fig. 3.5). The next, critical step in the process was to make colour copies of the paintings, as the excavators were keenly aware that there was tremendous potential for damage to these rare and fragile works of art, and that the colours would quickly begin to fade upon prolonged exposure to the air. Hopkins emphasized this in his published report on the process: The work of the copyist was exacting, for it required a careful study of the original colors, a minute scrutiny of detail, and a special search for traces of color and design already fading. One astonishing feature of the Synagogue was the brilliance and clarity of the colors. Just the same, there was the inevitable fading when exposed to light after more than a millennium and a half of protection under the embankment. Some weathering had occurred where the panels were buried close to the surface; on these parts only faint traces of color remained. Blue and white faded faster than red, gray, and black. Du Mesnil and I disagreed on some details of the painting even while we stood before the wall examining the same panel […] Hence, the copying required great patience and care in addition to expert brushwork.19

Upon seeing Gute at work copying the Synagogue paintings, Hopkins was impressed by his meticulous attention to detail as well as his artistic ability. He notes that in certain cases Gute would consult and study fragments in addition to the larger sections in order to get the best possible sense of the original colour. Ultimately, 17 

Hopkins 1973, 207. Gute postcard, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 19  Hopkins 1973, 207. 18 

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28

Figure 3.6. Herbert Gute, sketch of Gute drawing pottery in his studio at Dura-Europos, 1934. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

he asserted, ‘To study the combination of color, detail, and design today, one will find the copies better than the originals. Of course, one supplements the other, and both are indispensable’.20 The validity of this statement is evidenced by the fact that the Department of Ancient Art at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery receives requests for photo­g raphs of the Gute copies for publication at least as frequently as for the black-and-white excavation photo­graphs, if not more. Most of the work of excavating and documenting the Synagogue wall paintings during the seventh excavation campaign was done by Gute together with Henry Pearson. Hopkins noted repeatedly in letters to Rostovtzeff that the two men got along ‘splendidly’ and worked extremely well together.21 The pair also collaborated that season on the so-called Sassanian fresco, the SPQR painting from the Temple of Azzanathkona, and wall paintings from private houses, as well as the paintings and reliefs of the Mithraeum. Gute also made copies of other finds, including the glassware and pottery. Mr Gute has made a complete catalogue of the pottery. His sheets of drawings and his study of the comparative types are of immense importance for the ceramic development of the city, and a great help in our study of the growth and character of the city in the different periods. When his study of the glass-ware is finished, we shall have a thorough record of Dura vessels for the final report.22 20 

Hopkins 1973, 207. Letters from Hopkins to Rostovtzeff, 6 November and 1 December 1933, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 22   Letter from Hopkins to Angell, 7 January 1935, DuraEuropos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 21 

Several of his drawings did make it into the annual preliminary reports of the excavation as well as the final reports.23 Gute returned to Dura-Europos as part of the excavation team in the following season, 1934–1935. A series of letters written en route by Hopkins to Rostovtzeff in October 1934 show that Hopkins and Gute were traveling with Pearson and Du Mesnil, by way of Paris, Alexandria, and Beirut. 24 At this point it was still thought that the Synagogue paintings would go to Yale and that the Mithraeum would stay in Syria, so it was thought that Pearson would be responsible for installing the Mithraeum in Damascus after finishing the season at Dura. Hopkins expresses his concerns privately to Rostovtzeff about the details of this plan, made complicated by the fact that Pearson’s wife was expecting a baby: Seyrig says he is sure the question of the Synagogue will be settled in a month and wants to know when Pearson can put up the Mithraeum. This brings up a rather difficult question. Entre-nous the real reason Pearson’s wife did not come out is the fact that they are expecting a baby in the spring. So Pearson wants to get back as soon as possible. But we have to put up the Mithraeum and Pearson is the only one who can do it. I told Pearson my only suggestion was for him to finish up in four months at Dura and put up the Mithraeum the fifth month in Damascus. If we have only four months this is O.K. But if we have five we shall have to do without Pearson the fifth month. Since we have Gute, however, this will be O.K.25

During the course of the season, Gute not only worked with Pearson on the wall paintings but also made drawings of all the excavated pottery types. Gute includes sketches of his studio and his work on the pottery among the cards that he sends to Catherine (Fig. 3.6). As soon as the team found out that Henri Seyrig, director of antiquities in Syria, had made the decision to keep the entire series of Synagogue wall paintings in Damascus, Gute and Pearson spent the month of February 1935, working in the National Museum in order to make tracings and copies of them for Yale.26 Despite the disappointment that was clearly caused by not being able to have the wall paintings of the 23 

For example, Dyson 1968, fig. 21. Letters from Hopkins to Rostovtzeff, 14 and 19 October 1934, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 25  Letter from Hopkins to Rostovtzeff, 23 October 1934, DuraEuropos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 26   Letter from Hopkins to Rostovtzeff, 16 February 1935, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 24 

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

Figure 3.7. Shield painted with scenes from the Iliad, mid-third century ad, poplar planks and pigment, Yale-French Excavations at DuraEuropos, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

29

Figure 3.9. Herbert Gute, ‘Wooden Shield with Scenes from the Iliad’, 1935 or 1936, watercolour on paper, Commissioned by the Uni­ver­sity, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Synagogue in New Haven, there was considerable excitement during the eighth excavation season surrounding the remarkable discovery of three painted wooden shields, all of which did end up in the collection of the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery (Fig. 3.7).27 Hopkins’s reports about this find in a letter to James Rowland Angell, President of Yale Uni­ver­sity: ‘The Dura shields are, as far as I know, the only painted Roman shields ever found. They will therefore be a great contribution to our knowledge of Roman armor. The painting is spirited and Mr Gute, our painter, who is making copies, thinks that the work is some of the best yet found at Dura’.28 Gute produced detailed watercolour copies of all three shields (Fig. 3.8); the watercolours are today also in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (Fig. 3.9).29

Figure 3.8. Gute holding a fragment of the painted shield and creating the watercolour copy, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

27   Yale Uni­v er­sity Art Gallery 1935.551, 1935.552, and 1935.553. 28  Letter from Hopkins to Angell, February 4, 1935, DuraEuropos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 29  Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery 1936.127.26, 1936.127.27, and 1936.127.28.

30

Lisa R. Brody

Figure 3.10. Gute’s copies of the Synagogue paintings hanging in classrooms at Yale Uni­ver­sity, 1930s or 1940s, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

Figure 3.11. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of men bringing wagons down from the excavation, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.12. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of boats on the Euphra­ tes River, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Gute’s paintings have been instrumental in the conservation treatment of the shields, whose condition has deteriorated since the time of excavation — the paint has flaked, the wood splintered, and the pigments faded. The conservation and technical analysis of the shields is ongoing and is proving to be an important contribution to the study of ancient painting.30 Because the wall paintings of the Synagogue ended up in the collection of the National Museum of Damascus, Yale Uni­ver­sity was particularly invested in the full-scale colour copies that Gute had made of them. In creating the copies, Gute first made meticulous tracings on cellophane in order to ensure as much accuracy as possible. The final paintings were made with tempera 30 

Gunnison, Passeri, Mysak, and Brody 2020.

31

and casein mixed with sand, to give them a look similar to the original painted plaster wall.31 They were done on paper, likely that used for other field drawings and architectural renderings, and shipped to New Haven in large rolls. Once there, they were mounted in sections on Masonite or fibreboard about a half inch thick. The sections were then exhibited on walls in various rooms in the Departments of Ancient Art or History (Fig. 3.10). During World War  II, many of the pieces of the Dura collection were stored in the vacant rooms of the Department of Classics. In 1975 the Gute paintings were transferred to the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery as their permanent home, and they were stored in its archive storerooms.32 Several of the Gute paintings were exhibited in 1978 in an exhibition at the Jewish Community Center in New Haven, organized by Hagith S. Sivan. A select four were conserved in 2010 before being included in the exhibition Dura-Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity at the Boston College McMullen Museum of Art.33 Two of these were loaned to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2019 for the exhibition The World Between Empires: Art and Identity in the Ancient Middle East.34 Gute’s personal photo­g raphs from his time spent working on the excavation show a particular interest in the people and culture of Syria. They include shots of the workmen on the site that are far more focused on their faces and local dress than many of the excavation team’s ‘official’ photo­g raphs. One photo­g raph, for example, shows four workmen looking directly at the camera while they guide a wooden cart down an incline (Fig. 3.11). The accompanying text reads as follows: Feb. 20th ’35 Cardy, Bringing down the ‘wagons’ from the dig. They rolled them down the cliff, and are dragging them the rest of the way.35

Gute also took pictures of the ship on which they travelled across the Mediterranean as well as several of the boats used for transportation on the Euphrates River (Fig. 3.12).

31 

Goldman and Goldman 2011, 203. Goldman and Goldman 2011, 203. 33  Brody and Hoffman 2011, pls 33–36. 34  Fowlkes-Childs and Seymour 2019, nos 146–47. 35  Gute postcard, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 32 

Lisa R. Brody

32

Other images of local village life include photo­graphs of children playing a game, women hiding their faces, a group of people crowding around a pile of broken pottery, men using donkeys to haul cargo, modern houses and neighbourhoods, and the elaborate system of water wheels and pulleys used to bring water up from the Euphrates (Fig. 3.14). Another small series of Gute’s photo­graphs are striking close-up portraits of locals — men, women, and children — revealing his artist’s eye and his interest in the Syrian community around him, which must have been vastly different from that which he had known in New York and Connecticut (Fig. 3.15). Some of these differences are observed without the lens of judgement that we might view them with today. There are three dramatic images of a bearded man in elaborate local dress (Fig. 3.16), one of which is captioned as follows: Figure 3.13. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of a man holding a fish at market, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Cardy.

Feb. ’35

Doura. Sheik Favess, the big man around Doura way. He had on a wonderful costume. Also owns ten slaves.36

Figure 3.14. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of pulley system bringing water up from the Euphrates, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Several photo­graphs are from visits to local markets, and while a fish or a cow may be the central focus of the frame, there is always at least one Syrian looking directly at the camera, immediately catching the interest of the viewer (Fig. 3.13).

The straightforward way that Gute here describes the man as a slaveowner is shocking to modern observers and is a vivid reminder of the colonialism and elitism that pervaded the work and documentation of the DuraEuropos excavation and other early twentieth-century American campaigns. In some cases, Gute’s photo­g raphs of the local communities provide invaluable evidence for understanding the Dura-Europos collections and artefacts. The extraordinary archaeo­logical preservation of the site meant that the team recovered hundreds of objects made of organic materials that in more typical site conditions would not survive. Studying these objects, therefore, is frequently made difficult due to the fact that there are so few known parallels. One such object is a stringed instrument, made of leather, wood, and animal hair (Fig. 3.17).37 Other than the famous lyres and harps from the fourth millennium bc recovered at Ur, the evidence for the history of stringed musical instruments mostly relies upon depictions in paintings, seals, and sculptures.38 Looking 36 

Gute postcard, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 37  Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery 1938.5999.1867. 38  Dumbrill 2005; Sachs 1940.

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

33

Figure 3.17. Stringed instrument, leather, wood, and animal hair, YaleFrench Excavations at Dura-Europos, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.18. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of local man playing stringed instrument, 1935, DuraEuropos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.15. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of local man in profile, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.16. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of local man named Sheik Favess, 1935, DuraEuropos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

at historical examples from later periods, the instrument from the Dura excavations seems to be a ‘rebab’, an early bowed instrument (sometimes played by plucking) popular in Arabic Bedouin populations throughout the Middle East and subsequently, due to trade routes, spreading into North Africa, South-East Asia, and parts of Europe. The rebab generally has a small body, the front of which is covered with parchment or animal skin, and a long thin neck with one, two, or three strings. The instrument is held upright, often on the lap. Some examples have a spike at the bottom, which rests on the floor. These traditional instruments continue relatively unchanged in Syria for centuries; an example from the nineteenth century is in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.39 In examining the photo­graphs that Gute took during his time at DuraEuropos, curators at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery noticed one showing a local man, in traditional Syrian dress, playing a bowed instrument of this type: a small soundbox with concave sides, covered with an animal skin or parchment, with a cylindrical neck and one string attached to a tuning peg at the end of the neck. The instrument is being played with a simple bow (Fig. 3.18). The similarities between this instrument and the one in the DuraEuropos collection were uncanny. This raised many questions about whether the object thought to have been found in the excavations was 39 

Metropolitan Museum of Art 89.2.175a, b.

Lisa R. Brody

34

Figure 3.20. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of eggs being collected from workmen on the excavation, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. Figure 3.19. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of man dispensing medicine on the excavation, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­ sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.21. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of Frank Brown on the excavation, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.22. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of Clark Hopkins and Robert du Mesnil du Buisson having drinks in the courtyard of the excavation house, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

an extremely early example of such an instrument — no others of such an early date are known, but the preservation of organic materials at Dura suggested that such a scenario is not impossible. In 2012, samples of the rawhide and wood were analysed by the Arizona Accelerator Mass Spectrometry Laboratory at the Uni­ver­s ity of Arizona. This analysis determined that the rawhide may well be ancient (2230 +/- 83 years bp), but the wood most likely is not (85 +/- 33 years bp).40 It seems that Gute and the other members of the excavation team may have been so fascinated by the local culture that they observed while in Syria, including traditional music and musical instruments, that they reconstructed an instrument using fragmentary ancient materials and local contemporary comparanda (as recorded in Gute’s photo­ graphs). The photo­g raphs that Gute himself took while on site are fascinating and important as records of excavation life, and they frequently have a different focus than is apparent among the other archived photo­graphs from the campaign. One, for example, shows medicine being dispensed to a local worker (Fig. 3.19), while another shows eggs being collected from a line of workmen (Fig. 3.20). Gute also photo­g raphs the excavation house from a variety of angles and makes a clear effort to portray each of his colleagues on the excavation and ‘introduce’ them to his distant fiancée. One example of this is the photo­ graph of Frank Brown on site (Fig. 3.21): 40  Letter from A. J. Timothy Jull, Professor of Geosciences and Physics, Director, NSF Arizona AMS Laboratory, to Carol Snow, then Deputy Chief Conservator and the Alan J. Dworsky Senior Conservator of Objects, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, 27 June 2012.

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

35

Frank Brown in all his flummery. He use [sic] to go around like the well dressed [sic] excavator, now he is wise to himself and dress [sic] accordingly.41

Figure 3.23. Herbert Gute, personal photograph of excavation team members with the team’s car, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale University Art Gallery.

Figure 3.24. Herbert Gute, personal photo­graph of excavation team members in local dress, 1935, Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Other photo­graphs show Clark Hopkins and Robert du Mesnil du Buisson standing beside the team’s car or sitting at a table having drinks in the excavation compound (Figs 3.22 and 3.23). Anyone who has ever had experience doing field archaeo­logy, even today, can likely relate to Gute’s situation; time is often spent corresponding with family or friends back home and attempting to help them visualize details of the team’s living conditions. Gute also takes photo­graphs of himself and his colleagues in traditional native dress (Fig. 3.24). While one might interpret these as evidence of interest in the local culture, it is difficult not to also see them through a lens of colonialism, something that was all too common in excavations of the 1920s and 1930s. The most extraordinary records that Gute’s family contributed to the Dura-Europos archive are those postcards that bear one of his hand-drawn sketches, many of which detail locations and daily activities on the excavation. Among these are schematic drawings of his room (Fig. 3.25), his studio (Fig. 3.26), and even his shower (Fig. 3.27). One of the team’s favourite pastimes — as mentioned even by Hopkins in his description of Gute’s skills and interests cited above — was horseshoes (Fig. 3.28). The cutthroat competitiveness of the players is acknowledged in another drawing (Fig. 3.29) and its accompanying text: Cardy Girl: A common scene during one of our horseshoe games. Every point is bitterly contested. Herb Nov. 11th 1934 Doura. Syria42

Such uncensored glimpses into the team’s daily life provide a vivid means of understanding how excavations functioned in the 1930s — when travel was complicated, difficult, and expensive, and before it

Figure 3.25. Herbert Gute, sketch of his room at the excavation, 1935. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

41  Gute postcard, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. 42  Gute postcard, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Lisa R. Brody

36

was easy to communicate over long distances via phone, email, or text — through documents and images not found in many archives. Dura-Europos was not the only excavation in the early twentieth century to add a skilled artist to its team for the documentation and reconstruction of finds. According to John Papadopoulos: In an era before color photo­graphy was widely used and available for archaeo­ logical illustration, watercolors graced the frontispieces of many archaeo­logical mono­graphs, as they occasionally graced the walls of a museum, providing the reader and visitor with a colorfully cogent view of an object or ancient landscape that somehow surpassed the drabness and stark clarity of black-and-white photo­graphy.43

Figure 3.26. Herbert Gute, sketch of his studio at the excavation, 1935. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

One of the best known of these artists was Piet de Jong, who worked at several sites in Greece, including Knossos, Pylos, Mycenae, Sparta, Halae, Zygouries, Perachora, Corinth, and had a long association with the excavations in the Athenian Agora. Born and raised in England, de Jong first went to Greece in 1919 to help rebuild areas that had been destroyed during the Balkan Wars and in 1923 began to work for the British School of Archaeo­ logy in Athens on their excavations.44 A trained architect and skilled draftsman, de Jong created watercolours of pottery and wall paintings as well as isometric reconstructions and site plans. One of the benefits of de Jong’s illustrations, as with Gute’s, is that it recorded information that might not be visible in photo­g raphs or that might fade or disappear post-excavation, particularly in the case of wall paintings. This is true, for example, with his watercolours of Byzantine and post-Byzantine paintings from the chapel of Ayios Spyridon in the Agora, which Alison Franz used in her Hesperia article on the paintings’ icono­g raphy.45 ‘The record of the frescoes Piet de Jong preserved is remarkable. Given the damaged nature and illegibility of the original frescoes today, de Jong’s watercolors not only attract attention Figure 3.27. Herbert Gute, sketch of his shower at the excavation, 1935. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

43 

Papadopoulos 2007, 2. Kourelis 2007, 421. 45  Frantz 1935; Kourelis 2007, 422. 44 

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

Figure 3.28. Herbert Gute, sketch of a game of horseshoes, 1934. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

Figure 3.29. Herbert Gute, sketch of competitors measuring throws in horseshoes, 1934. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

to these interesting and important frescoes, they allow for a better understanding of the details and colors of the frescoes’.46 The same can be said of Gute’s watercolours of the wall paintings from the Synagogue at DuraEuropos. They are often used to illustrate publications on the Synagogue, in addition to or even in place of the black-and-white photo­graphs taken at the site. Georg von Peschke was another who worked on American excavations in Greece in the 1930s and following decades.47 He is known today for his ‘lifelong career

as illustrator, architect, and surveyor in the American excavations of Corinth, Isthmia, and Olynthus’.48 Field director David Robinson called his illustrations of the Hellenistic pebble mosaics at Olynthus ‘faithful and artistic copies’.49 As with de Jong, Gute, and other archaeo­logical illustrators of the time, there was clearly a dual importance assigned to Peschke’s work, so that it needed to be elegant and aesthetically pleasing, but also meticulous in its detail and accurate in its representation of the original. Peschke was born in Croatia but moved to Greece and married a woman from the island of Skyros, so he lived in Greece full-time from the 1920s throughout his career. Unlike Gute then, who lived in America when not at the excavation, Peschke’s art was always focused on the people and communities of the country where he worked. In addition to his archaeo­ logical work, he created portraits and landscapes that were celebrated at the height of his career, in the 1930s, and have since been featured in a small exhibition at Franklin and Marshall College in Pennsylvania that sought ‘to reinstate Peschke’s deserved contributions to the annals of art history’.50 American archaeo­logist Howard Crosby Butler is perhaps best known as the field director of the first largescale scientific excavations at the site of Sardis from 1910 to 1914, with a final season in 1922. Butler is another example of someone who produced artistic renderings of objects and architecture from his excavations, observations, and study of the ancient Mediterranean. While none of the other individuals mentioned above served as field directors, Butler has in common with them his training as an architect, his artistic skill, and his participation on American archaeo­logical expeditions. Prior to his work at Sardis, he had headed the American Archaeo­ logical Expedition to Syria in 1899, later organizing two additional campaigns under the auspices of Princeton Uni­ver­sity, in 1904 and 1909. These campaigns aimed to document the monuments of ancient Syria through drawings and photo­g raphs. In addition to his work at Sardis, Butler travelled to Scotland and Athens, creating illustrations of architectural ruins that he subsequently published. 51 During the memorial service for Butler upon his death in 1922, Varnum Lansing Collins shared that ‘His talent with pen and ink as well as his skill as a 48 

Kourelis 2012. Robinson 1933, vii, pls i–vii. 50  Kourelis 2012. 51  Butler 1900; Butler 1902. 49 

46  47 

Mackay 2007, 288. Kourelis 2007, 423.

37

Lisa R. Brody

38 technical draughtsman is plentifully shown in the illustrations of his books and in the plates of the Reports of his expeditions’.52 Herbert Gute’s training in the fine arts was an important component of the work being done at DuraEuropos not only for the meticulous copies that he made of the archaeo­logical finds, but also for his understanding of artistic technique and his ability to apply it to the creation of the ancient works of art. He continued to contribute to the understanding of the art from DuraEuropos even after he was no longer an active member of the excavation team. An unpublished report on the Synagogue paintings from the Dura-Europos archives, unsigned but probably written by Frank Brown in the mid-1930s, provides detailed descriptions of the artists’ techniques and procedures. He summarizes the technical analysis of the pigments that was done by Rutherford Gettens of the Fogg Art Museum at Harvard Uni­ver­sity. He also credits Gute, then a professor in the Department of Fine Arts at Yale Uni­ver­sity, for providing ‘an analysis of the artists’ procedure in developing the scenes’.53 He signals his respect for Gute’s expertise in this area by quoting his words in their entirety: Professor Gute has the following to say: ‘Within the area set apart by a framework of lines as a single panel, the artists first developed in charcoal the outlines of the figures and the objects to be represented. The outlines were then redrawn in yellowish brown, and the areas not contained within them covered with washes of various density to provide the background colors. Once the background had been filled in the basic colors suited to the persons and objects portrayed were filled in. No attempt was made to effect shading by the gradation of the colors themselves. Instead other colors were superimposed in light washes for this purpose. After the basic colors and their shading media had been applied, divisions, contours, designs, features were supplied, and finally accents and high-lights of black and white. In the copying of the pictures themselves all of the several steps of the process were repeated continually, so that each step became thoroughly familiar’.54

The author (Brown?) was clearly having ongoing conversations with Gute about the Synagogue wall paintings 52 

Collins 1923, 15–16. 53   ‘Materials and Methods of the Synagogue Artists’, unpublished report, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, p. 1. 54   ‘Materials and Methods of the Synagogue Artists’, unpublished report, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, p. 6.

and the techniques used by the artists who created them. In another section of the same report is the following postscript: P.S. I have just had a conference with Mr Gute. He has taken my drawings for correction. He also read the preceding pages and made some corrections and suggestions. He is not quite sure about the charcoal outline. He thinks it was done with very diluted brown paint. He also showed me that between stages iii and iv there was an intermediate step. The shadows were accentuated with dark-brownish outlines, making almost a complete outline, and then with the final black outline, accentuated the shadow details. Expanding now my suggestion about lighting and modelling problems, he thinks that the painter had the idea that the light comes from one direction, making one part of the face lighter than the other which is in the shade, but of course he didn’t follow the light problem through consistently and finally the light always comes from the profile side or from the side to which the faces are turned. Anticipating the question of color, he agrees with me that the blue areas have a grey underpaint. We fixed a next meeting for sometime next week to discuss the question of individual hands of painters and the name of colors.55

Scholars today continue to study the technique of the ancient artists at Dura-Europos. One such research project involves understanding the artistic execution of, in particular, the flesh tones evident in surviving painted images from Dura.56 After Gute’s time as a member of the Dura excavation team was finished, he embarked upon a career in academia. He taught in the summer school at the Uni­ ver­sity of Virginia in 1937 before returning to Yale as a member of the faculty in 1938.57 He remained at Yale as a professor of drawing and painting until 1973, also serving as a fellow of Yale’s Calhoun College (now Grace Hopper College) from 1955 to 1973.58 In 1946 he was also selected as one of the original members of the faculty of the new Yale Norfolk School of Art, an intensive summer programme for rising seniors.59 Throughout his teaching career, Gute continued to be a highly productive practising artist, exhibiting regularly at a number of venues throughout Connecticut 55  ‘Technique of Procedure’, unpublished report, Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, p. 3. 56  Passeri, Gunnison, and Mysak 2016. 57   Herbert Gute curriculum vitae, Arts Library Special Collections (ALSC), Haas Arts Library, Yale Uni­ver­sity. 58  Newman and Wang 2017. 59  [accessed 22 May 2022].

3. Herbert J. Gute and the Yale-French Excavations at Dura-Europos

39

Figure 3.30. Herbert Gute, painting of large limestone cult relief from the Mithraeum, 1935. Dura-Europos Archives, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

and receiving one-man exhibitions at art galleries in Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, and Virginia from 1949 to 1952. 60 He also served on juries for several artistic competitions and won numerous prizes in the 1940s through the 1960s. One of his most prestigious awards was the George A. Zabriskie Prize of the American Water-Color Society, which he received in 1942 for his painting called ‘Low Tide’.61 From 1949 until 1953 he also advised the Connecticut State Hospital in Middletown on art therapy for mental illness. His curriculum vitae included ‘research on the following problems: “Can the visual language (the Arts) play as vital a role in the treatment of the mentally ill as the literary language?” in collaboration with Dr N. Toll, Psychiatrist, Connecticut State Hospital, 60   Herbert

Gute curriculum vitae, Arts Library Special Collections (ALSC), Haas Arts Library, Yale Uni­ver­sity. These galleries included the following: Kennedy Galleries (New York, NY), Grand Central Galleries (New York, NY), Vose Gallery (Boviston, MA), Munson Gallery (New Haven, CT), Town and Country Club (Hartford, CT), Stewart Gallery (Norfolk, CT), Stoeckel Estate (Norfolk, CT), Lyman Allyn Museum (New London, CT), and Bayly Art Museum (Charlottesville, VA). 61  ‘Herbert Gute, Teacher and Watercolorist, 69’, obituary, New York Times, 12 July 1977.

and Dr E. Stainbrook, Assistant Professor of Psychiatry, Yale Uni­ver­sity’.62 Gute was married to Catherine Schaefer on 18 October 1936, and the couple raised two sons, Herbert and David. Catherine died tragically in an apartment fire in New Haven at the age of fifty, in 1968.63 Gute himself died in 1977, at the age of sixty-nine.64 His legacy lives on today not only through his surviving family members but also through his many works of art, his years of teaching, and his work at the Yale-French excavations of ancient Dura-Europos. Not only do the drawings and paintings that he created at the site help illuminate details of daily life on the excavation, but they also form essential pieces of evidence in understanding the archaeo­logical artefacts and works of art from Dura-Europos. Modern studies on polychromy in ancient sculpture, for example, can benefit from the incredible vision of an artist who viewed a limestone relief fresh out of the ground, before exposure to the elements began the process of fading any surviving 62   Herbert Gute curriculum vitae, Arts Library Special Collections (ALSC), Haas Arts Library, Yale Uni­ver­sity. 63  ‘Fire Kills Wife of Professor’, 1968. 64  ‘Herbert Gute, Teacher and Watercolorist, 69’, obituary, New York Times, 12 July 1977.

40 pigments. In addition to Gute’s invaluable copies of wall paintings from the Synagogue and other buildings, and the painted wooden shields, this painting of one of the cult reliefs from the Mithraeum (Fig. 3.30) reveals that the surface originally was not only painted but gilded.

Lisa R. Brody This intersection of archival documentation with modern science and techno­logy allows scholars to continue exploring the extraordinary archaeo­logical remains from Dura-Europos in the collection of the Yale Uni­ver­ sity Art Gallery.

Works Cited Brody, L. R. and G. L. Hoffman. 2011. Dura-Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity (Chestnut Hill: McMullen Museum of Art, Boston College). Butler, H. C. 1900. Scotland’s Ruined Abbeys (New York: Macmillan). —— . 1902. The Story of Athens: A Record of the Life and Art of the City of the Violet Crown Read in its Ruins and in the Lives of Great Athenians (New York: Century). Collins, V. L. 1923. ‘Howard Crosby Butler’, in Howard Crosby Butler, 1872–1922 (Princeton: Princeton Uni­ver­sity Press), pp. 3–41. Cummings, M. 2020. ‘Major Bequest to Establish Scholarship Fund at the Yale School of Art’, YaleNews, 19 March 2020 [accessed 21 May 2022]. Dumbrill, R. J. 2005. The Archaeomusico­logy of the Ancient Near East (Victoria, BC: Trafford). Dyson, S. L. 1968. The Excavations at Dura Europos Conducted by Yale Uni­ver­sity and the French Academy of Inscriptions and Letters: Final Report, iv.1.3: The Commonware Pottery: The Brittle Ware, ed. C. Bradford Welles (New Haven: Yale Uni­ver­sity Press). ‘Fire Kills Wife of Professor’. 1968. The Morning Record, Wallingford Section (Meridian, CO) Tuesday, 19 November. Fowlkes-Childs, B. and M. Seymour. 2019. The World between Empires: Art and Identity in the Ancient Middle East (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art). Frantz, M. A. 1935. ‘Late Byzantine Paintings in the Agora’, Hesperia, 4: 442–69. Goldman, B. M. and N. W. Goldman. 2011. My Dura-Europos: The Letters of Susan M. Hopkins, 1927–1935 (Detroit: Wayne State Uni­ver­sity Press). Goldstein, J. A. 1990. ‘The Central Composition of the West Wall of the Synagogue of Dura-Europos’, in J. A. Goldstein, Semites, Iranians, Greeks, and Romans: Studies in their Interactions, Brown Judaic Studies, 217 (Ann Arbor: Scholars Press), pp. 67–114. Goodenough, E. R. 1964. Jewish Symbols in the Greco-Roman Period, ix–xi: Symbolism in the Dura Synagogue, Bollingen Series, 37 (New York: Pantheon). Gunnison, A. and others. 2020. ‘Painted Roman Wood Shields from Dura-Europos’, in M. Svoboda and C. R. Cartwright (eds), Mummy Portraits of Roman Egypt: Emerging Research from the APPEAR Project ( J. Paul Getty Trust) [accessed 21 May 2022]. Hopkins, C. 1973. ‘The Excavation of the Dura Synagogue Paintings’, in J.  Gutmann (ed.), The Dura-Europos Synagogue: A Re-evaluation (1932–1972) (Chambersburg: American Academy of Religion and Society of Biblical Literature), pp. 11–21. —— . 1979. The Discovery of Dura-Europos (New Haven: Yale Uni­ver­sity Press). Kourelis, K. 2007. ‘Byzantium and the Avant-Garde: Excavations at Corinth, 1920s–1930s’, Hesperia, 72.2: 391–442. —— . 2012. Peschke: Colors of Greece, catalogue of exhibition at the Phillips Museum of Art, Franklin and Marshall College (Lancaster, PA: Franklin and Marshall College). Mackay, C. 2007. ‘Late Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Frescoes from Ayios Spyridon’, in J. Papadopoulos (ed.), The Art of Antiquity: Piet de Jong and the Athenian Agora (Athens: The American School of Classical Studies at Athens), pp. 288–94. Newman, A. and V. Wang. 2017. ‘Calhoun Who? Yale Drops Name of Slavery Advocate for Computer Pioneer’, New York Times, 3 September. Papadopoulos, J. (ed.). 2007. The Art of Antiquity: Piet de Jong and the Athenian Agora (Athens: The American School of Classical Studies at Athens). Passeri, I., A. Gunnison, and E. Mysak. 2016. ‘The Examination of 3rd Century Painted Shields from Dura Europos’, conference postprints Verbundforschungsvorhaben Inkarnat und Signifikanz – Das menschliche Abbild in der Tafelmalerei von 200 bis 1250 im Mittelmeerraum (ISIMAT) Munich, October 7–8. Robinson, D. M. 1933. Mosaics, Vases, and Lamps of Olynthus Found in 1928, 1931, Excavations at Olynthus, 5 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Uni­ver­sity Press). Sachs, C. 1940. The History of Musical Instruments (New York: Norton). Society for Science and the Public. 1937. ‘Oldest Christian Chapel Moved Overseas to Yale’, Science News Letter, 31, 26 June 1937, p. 407.

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0: Answering Past Critiques with Linked Open Data (LOD) Anne Hunnell Chen Bard College

I

n recent decades, archivists and other GLAM (Gallery, Library, Archives, and Museums) professionals have recognized the benefits of creating digital surrogates of both primary and secondary source materials and making those digital stand-ins discoverable online. Lowered costs associated with high-resolution image-capture have made digitization of collections increasingly accessible for GLAM institutions of various sizes. As such, digitization of archival materials has quickly become normative (or at least aspirational) practice both for its documentarian and preservation benefits (providing a visual record of the object/document as it appeared at a particular (modern) moment in its existence; less need to expose delicate objects/documents to handling and other potentially adverse conditions), but also for the promise it holds for the increased accessibility and discoverability of an institution’s holdings.1 Without a doubt, putting resources like these online is a step in the right direction, and helps to curb important barriers to access, like the limitations associated with travel to collections (international visas, costs, etc.). This trend stands as an important intervention in the recognized need to expand access to archaeo­logical data from archaeo­logically significant and/or vulnerable sites. Postcolonial critiques have made it clear that many legacy archaeo­logical archive collections’ origins are tied up in problematic colonialist dynamics.2 As such, there is a pressing ethical obligation to ensure (at the 1  Grindle 2013; Tausch, Domajnko, and Ritz 2020; Wallace 2020; GLAM 3D Open Access 2021; Wikimedia Outreach: GLAM/Digital Collections 2021. 2   This includes not only cases where the legality of the transportation of objects from of their country of origin is disputed, as for instance with the famous case of the Parthenon Marbles, but also sites where partage agreements, legal at the time, resulted in the transferal of artefacts (often from territories of what are now developing countries) into collections in the US and western Europe. The archival materials related to the excavations of 1928–1937 at Dura-Europos (Syria), held by Yale Uni­ver­sity have been the primary reference-point for the development of the International (Digital) Dura-Europos Archive (IDEA), the project whose framing and

very least) that descendant populations in countries of origin have access to data and objects derived from legacy excavations.3 Broad accessibility of legacy archaeo­ logical archival data is also of pronounced importance for reconstruction and anti-trafficking efforts in the case of cultural heritage sites that have been subject to looting and other destruction since excavation. This includes damage caused by a combination of neglect and environmental factors, as well as intentional human-perpetrated destruction.4 Legacy archaeo­logical archives, however, are already a challenge to navigate in their physical formats, and the particular challenges they present can complicate efforts to responsibly create useful digital surrogates for objects and archival documents. Recent critiques, drawing attention particularly to the materiality of archival content, and the potential for serendipitous discovery, have rightfully (and helpfully) cautioned against unintended informational losses and ambiguities with translation of collections from analogue to digital.5 The act of creating a digital surrogate for an archival or artefactual datapoint does not necessarily automatically exponentially increase the accessibility and/or discoverability of the relevant material; this is especially the case if we consider that certain types of data (those connected to materialist perspectives, for instance) have not always been part of the data-capture plan in early digitization efforts, and thus have not been digitally accessible at all. Fortunately, however, such critiques are one of the initial implementation has been the basis for observations relayed in this chapter. For a perspective on Dura-Europos informed by postcolonial critique, see Baird 2011. 3  Access to high-quality digital surrogates does not necessarily decide or weigh-in on the rightful physical location in which objects/documents should be kept; digital access is only the least that is obligated to populations negatively impacted by colonialism. Recently on the ethics of ‘digital repatriation’, see Bond 2018; Holland 2020. 4  Fredricks 2018, Boo 2020; UNESCO 2020. 5  See, for instance, Edwards and Hart 2004; Hoeflich 2007; Baird and MacFayden 2014; Dever 2019.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 41–53 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130472

Anne Hunnell Chen

42 drivers behind techno­logical developments that stand to improve digital archival practice. It is argued here that developing digital practices related especially to the concept of Linked Open Data (LOD) stand to mitigate challenges inherent to analogue legacy archaeo­logical archives as well as to mollify (if not entirely eradicate) concerns posed by early critics of the digitization of such collections. This chapter will first summarize some of the complications in working with legacy archaeo­logical archival content, as well as the critiques levelled at early attempts to leverage the digital realm to increase the accessibility of content from legacy archives. From there, it briefly introduces the concepts of Web 2.0 and LOD, before moving on to argue how these developing digital practices stand to address — or at the very least mitigate — both the valid concerns of past critics who have productively articulated the potential shortcomings of digitized archaeo­logical archival content, as well as some of the long-standing inherent challenges of analogue archival collections. This chapter draws on preliminary lessons learned in the framing and implementation of the International (Digital) Dura-Europos Archive (IDEA), a web application powered by Wikidata that is currently in development at Yale Uni­ver­s ity and Bard College with the generous support of the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH).

Archaeo­logical Archives: Inherent Challenges and Past Digitization Critiques Even in their physical form, legacy archaeo­logical archives present a distinct challenge to archivists and researchers. First and foremost, as Baird and McFayden’s important critical reframing of a decade ago has drawn out, archaeo­logical archives are fundamentally different from other kinds of historical archives in that their interpretation and use is intimately tied to a physical space that is by methodo­logical necessity no longer extant. As they concisely and insightfully state, [h]istorical archives hold the very documents that are used as the raw material of historians, but archaeo­logical archives are both more immediate (in the presence of archaeo­logical objects) and more removed (in holding records of excavation but never — impossibly — excavation itself ). Excavation destroys material evidence in the ground and makes it anew on paper (as texts and drawings), on photo­graphs, in models, in objects, and now, myriad digital forms. […] The construction of paper and object archives forms an archaeo­logical knowledge of

sites and an understanding of past architecture in which structures are separate from artefactual details.6

Whether in a physical or a digital archival context, therefore, archaeo­logical archival content is always, inevitably, and irrevocably separated from the context of origin that is so critical to its interpretation. Establishing an effective means by which to ‘tether’ objects and documents to their contexts of origin is thus one of the keys to creating an archive that allows users to reverse-engineer (as far as possible) the process of excavation and thereby pave the way toward effective and historically grounded interpretation. Given the inherently destructive methodo­logy of excavation, and the fact that more often than not architectural features remain in situ while artefacts associated with them are removed to institutional collections, such ‘tethering’ is always a challenge.7 This is especially the case since, until recent decades, such ‘tethering’ has historically relied heavily upon the citation of place names in object/document metadata to signal that a given item has bearing on a particular context. Attributed place names are often tied up in (possibly transient or conflicting) interpretation. As such, when interpretation of a context/building shifts over time, or differs from one scholar to the next, the inconsistency in attributed naming traditions for a single physical context can complicate efforts to surface all physical or documentary evidence related to the context in question.8 The task is especially great at sites that have sustained generations of scholarly interest, and/or repeat excavation. Related is the issue of multi-linguistic variability in naming traditions. The difficulties inherent to inconsistent naming traditions within a single language are exponentially multiplied when considering the fact that every world language has its own way of rendering a place name and its variants: use of non-Latin scripts, variation in the direction of reading, different phoneticized spellings, wholly different naming traditions founded in interpretational or cultural differences, or some combination of such factors. No matter the source of the difference, language incompatibilities complicate traditional keyword searching. This is especially important to note since keyword searching has become integral to interaction even with physical archives as digital finding-aids have come

6 

Baird and McFayden 2014, 15. Baird and McFayden 2014, 15. 8  Vitale and de Beer 2019. 7 

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0 increasingly to replace (or at least precede) one-on-one consultations with archivists. The linguistic issue is one that many physical archival institutions have largely side-stepped. In general, archival institutions have historically taken the position that (especially given limited budgetary and staffing resources) the institution’s responsibility lies primarily in preserving and making available historically significant materials to the public. Narrowly understood, according to this position, the onus then lies with researchers to have command of the language(s) of record to engage the materials that such institutions preserve. However, postcolonial criticism has illuminated the problematic ways in which such expectations place an unrealistic burden on those who have been systematically disadvantaged, such that the ability to contend in a particular language becomes an (unintentional) gate-keeping device. A concrete example from the site known as DuraEuropos (Syria) may serve to illustrate the complexity of naming traditions for legacy archaeo­logical data. The ancient site of Dura-Europos is situated on the western bank of the Euphrates River, not far from the village of Salihiyah in modern Syria. First called ‘Europos’, Macedonian Greeks (Seleucids) founded the city around 300 bc. Later, it was controlled successively by the Parthian Empire (second century bc to later second century ad), and the Roman Empire (from the later second century ad) and came to be referred to by inhabitants as ‘Dura’ (the fortress) thanks to its role in frontier defence. The hyphenated name ‘Dura-Europos’ is a modern construct that reflects the city’s historical and cultural complexity and is commonly used by Anglophone scholars.9 It is, however, not the only modern naming tradition prominently associated with the site. There is an Arabic-script transliterated equivalent of the name Dura-Europos, ‫دورا أوربوس‬, but locals from the vicinity of the site also refer to it by the informal name ‘al Athar’ (the ruins). Meanwhile, for historical reasons, French scholars have had a sustained interest in the site, and thus French is one of the primary languages of relevance to legacy archives from the site.10 Further complicating 9 

Brody 2011; Baird 2018, 17–38. In the aftermath of the First World War, modern Syrian territory became part of the so-called French Mandate; see Morrison and Woog 2009, 31–38. Just prior to the French occupation of Syria, in 1920, British troops stationed in Salihiya reported wellpreserved wall paintings at the site that would come to be known as Dura-Europos. This report led in turn to formal excavations 10 

43 matters, however, Francophone scholars have preferred to reference the site in their cataloguing and publications according to their own, still different, modern variants of the site name: ‘Doura-Europos’ or ‘Europos-Doura’.11 And as stated above, every language in the world may have script, transliteration, or interpretational variants of their own — this example only captures some of the most relevant and widespread naming conventions due to the site’s political and excavation history. What is true at the granularity of the site-level, is also true — and arguably even more complex — at the finer, building-level of granularity. The additional complexity regarding building naming traditions is due to contemporary differences of opinion regarding building interpretation and/or shifts in interpretation over time. Leaving aside linguistic complexities for a moment, a single building is sometimes associated with dozens of names in a single language thanks to interpretational differences. For instance, at Dura-Europos, the temple built into the north-west corner of the town’s defences has been variously known by a number of names in English since it first came to the attention of British troops in 1920. 12 Names associated with the building over the century since its first systematic documentation have included Temple of the Palmyrene Gods, Temple of the Oriental Gods, Temple of Zeus, Temple of Palmyrene Bêl, and the Temple of Bêl. While the final name is the one favoured by most Anglophone scholars today, a scholar interested in this building, the artefacts found within, and the documentation of its excavation would need to know and independently search all of these variants in order to accurately source all of the archival and artefactual elements pertaining to this one archaeo­ logical context, since sometimes even the same archival sponsored initially by the French Academy of Inscriptions and Letters that began in 1922. After a hiatus in excavation caused by unrest in the region, excavations continued for nearly a decade under the joint auspices of Yale Uni­ver­sity and the French Academy of Inscriptions and Letters from 1928–1937. A new Franco-Syrian project founded by Pierre Leriche and Assad Al Mahmoud in 1986 continued until the outbreak of the Syrian civil war in 2011. On the site’s excavation history see Brody 2011; Baird 2018, 1–16. See also the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery’s interactive online feature DuraEuropos: Excavating Antiquity [accessed 21 May 2022]. 11  Baird 2018, 16. 12  On British troops’ initial discovery of wall paintings (1920) in what is today known as the Temple of Bêl and a summary of the early twentieth-century excavations at the site, see Brody 2011; Baird 2018, 1–16.

Anne Hunnell Chen

44 collection uses different naming traditions to catalogue data related to the same building. It should be obvious that given different scripts, spellings, and wholly different naming traditions, both ancient and modern, there is a lot of room for differences in the ways scholars, curators, and archivists have labelled their data both in the physical archives, and in the metadata of digital archives. Keyword searching, whether in computer-based collection-specific finding aids, or more generally in a traditional online environment depends upon uniformity, and thus it can be difficult for a researcher to be sure they have discovered all archival and artefactual materials related to a topic of inquiry, let alone be sure of the specific archaeo­logical context with which a collection item was associated when naming traditions have been inconsistent for one reason or another. Where it is not practical to expect uniformity (due to different languages, interpretational differences, etc.), what are we to do to make legacy archival data more tractable without hierarchizing one tradition over another? This is a question to which we will return in the final section of this chapter. Legacy archaeo­logical archival data also presents a challenge due to its frequent fragmentation across multiple physical collections. Partage agreements that were typical of early systematic excavations resulted in partition of excavation finds and documentation among stakeholder partners.13 Meanwhile, the personal papers belonging to individuals connected with the excavation of a given site may themselves be archived at institutions other than those designated to receive artefacts and official excavation records under the official partage agreements, but may contain items that help to fill out the official excavation documentation record. Complicating things even further, well-intentioned efforts to share out physical access to artefacts from sites deemed of especial interest and historical significance (via gifting or exchange to peer institutions) have often caused even deeper fragmentation. Many of these efforts date to a generation ago or more, and as such, documentation of such arrangements between collections has not always 13  Although early archaeo­logical partage agreements (c. nine­ teenth–early twentieth centuries) were legal by the standards of their time, modern perspectives informed by postcolonial theories recognize the power differences at play in the negotiation of many such agreements. As such, there is a retrospective ethical imperative for Western institutions in possession of such finds to furnish — at the very least — easy access to digital surrogates for artefactual and archival items. For postcolonial perspective on Dura-Europos, see Baird 2011.

been made transparently available to the public, such that there is often no one list, publication, or database one can access to discern which collections today hold artefacts from a given site and/or relevant archival materials. Once again, an example drawn from Dura-Europos may help to concretize the abstract problem described here. In the case of Dura-Europos, for instance, two stakeholders were involved in the official partage agreements when the site was first excavated in the 1920s and 1930s: Yale Uni­ver­sity, and the National Museum in Damascus (founded 1919).14 In turn, the majority of artefacts and archival documentation related to DuraEuropos (but not all) are today split between various institutions under the aegis of Yale Uni­ver­sity (including the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, the Beinecke Rare Book Library, and the Peabody Museum of Natural History), and the National Museum in Damascus. Over the years since Yale’s acquisition of these collections, the institution has gifted out Durene artefacts to at least five other institutions.15 Additional artefacts from the site belong to collections in the Louvre and the Bibliothèque nationale de France. Further, however, the personal papers of various individuals connected with Dura are held at still different institutions. Renowned archaeo­logist Henry Breasted, for instance, whose papers are archived at the Uni­ver­sity of Chicago’s Oriental Institute, was involved in survey work in the upper Tigris region at the time British troops alerted authorities to the presence of well-preserved wall paintings at the site.16 Thanks to his proximity, Breasted became the first Western scholar to view and systematically record the wall paintings that ultimately spurred further investigations at the site. Despite his early and important consultation work, however, Breasted’s involvement at Dura-Europos was ultimately shortlived. He did not take part in the formal excavations that took place between 1922 and 1937, and thus documents related to his initial assessment of the first wall paintings uncovered at the site reside with his personal papers rather than with official excavation records. Excavation of the same temple building that Breasted examined took place as part of the first field seasons under the auspices of the French Institute of Inscriptions and Letters 14 

Brody and Hoffman 2011, 7. Including the Royal Ontario Museum, Harvard Art Museums, Princeton Uni­ver­sity Art Museum, The Cleveland Museum of Art, and the Kelsey Museum of Archaeo­logy. 16  Brody 2011, 17–20; Baird 2018, 3–4. 15 

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0 and led by Cumont in 1922 and 1923 (before the formal involvement of Yale Uni­ver­sity).17 The same building was then excavated again as part of the Yale/French collaboration that began in 1928 after political unrest in the region caused a hiatus in archaeo­logical work at the site.18 This means that archaeo­logical work was carried out on the very same building under three different supervisory configurations, so it is not entirely surprising that the archaeo­logical documentation associated with the building is similarly fractured. In a case like the one discussed here, physically accessing legacy archaeo­logical archival data relevant to a single site or even a specific context within a site would require both knowledge of the fragmentation of resources and the different archival/museum collections where they might be found, as well as travel (with its associated logistical and financial limitations). Even with the rise in the creation of digital surrogates for material originals, discovering and accessing such materials in the current online landscape necessitates the navigation of multiple stand-alone digital databases with different interfaces and metadata standards, and in some cases, even different cataloguing languages. Formatting and linguistic incompatibility mean that even where data related to a single archaeo­logical site is available online, it is not so easy as web scraping publicly available data and integrating it into a single database such that it becomes searchable under a single interface. But if such compatibility challenges can be overcome (part of the promise of LOD), one of the allures of digital surrogates, especially given complications like the fragmentation issue described here, is that they — unlike material originals — need not reside in only one place. This thread will be picked up below. Legacy archaeo­logical archives can also present additional inherent challenges for modern scholars due to the early discipline’s strong inclination toward taxonomy and classification, sometimes at the expense of context. By this I mean that early archaeo­logical practice often proceeded in a way wherein archaeo­logical discoveries, be they artefacts, buildings, or other features, were categorized (even when the materials under consideration did not always neatly fit preordained categories), and documentation would in turn proceed in a way that prioritized those (now sometimes debatable) categories.19 Cumont 1926. Baur and Rostovtzeff 1929; Baur and Rostovtzeff 1931. 19  On taxonomy and classification in early twentieth-century

45 Early archaeo­logical practice allowed for far fewer of the classificatory ‘grey areas’ that are now recognized as holding interpretive significance. The combination of strict classifications, sometimes seen today as outmoded or too confining, combined with the documentary decisions made at the time of excavation may have lasting impacts in the archives that in turn have repercussions for modern scholars’ efforts to understand or reconstitute a single archaeo­logical context, or else to comprehensively surface materials relevant to a specific area of interest. At Dura-Europos, for instance, the documentation connected with archaeo­logical artefacts that include a textual component is particularly difficult to navigate because of problematic initial categorizations and the ensuing original documentary decisions that in turn persist in modern finding aides and object metadata. Thanks to its relatively well-preserved status, examples of formal lapidary inscriptions, dipinti, and graffiti are known and documented from the site. Recent work, however, has problematized these neat categories, and has demonstrated that the lines between what constitutes a ‘formal’ inscription, a graffito, or an object bearing text can be blurry.20 Additionally, categorization of a particular data component as ‘textual’ and its ensuing documentation as such has too often obscured important contextual relationships. Many of the photo­ graphs and drawings documenting wall paintings at Dura-Europos that include inscriptional or graffiti content are labelled in the archives in ways that give no (or incomplete) indication of the textual content embedded within (or adjacent to) the pictorial content. The original excavators seem to have conceived textual content separate from pictorial content, and thus sought them out and documented them as such, even where the two were intimately related. This observation is emphatically not meant as a critique of the modern curators and archivists in charge of such material, but rather just to point out that with voluminous archival inheritances of the past come persisting categorizational baggage that often gets carried over into modern metadata. If an archaeo­logical archive is meant to allow users to understand what took place and was concluded through the destructive process of excavation, overly taxonomic field approaches that did not pay equal attention to contextual relationships for all classes of

17  18 

archaeo­logical practice, see Renfrew and Bahn 2020, 34–35. 20  Baird 2010; Baird and Taylor 2010.

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46

Figure 4.1. Detail image showing the texture left by brushstrokes in plaster. From a high-resolution IIIF image of Julius Terentius Performing a Sacrifice; wall painting from the Temple of Bêl, Dura-Europos, ad 239. Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, inv. 1931.381; IIIF manifest [accessed 21 May 2022].

material or among different classes of material can make it particularly difficult for modern researchers to locate all of the material that bears on their area of inquiry and further to understand the full historical context of their objects of inquiry. The fundamental challenges sketched out here — disconnect between contemporary and past naming traditions; distribution of artefacts from the same site into distinct physical collections with consequently differential documentation; long-standing impacts of past generations’ tendency toward strict taxonomic classifications — all potentially weaken the tethering of an object or archaeo­logical entity to its broader context. If we agree with Baird and MacFayden that the destructive process of excavation that negates the possibility of reproducible results means that the tethering of discoveries to context is one of (legacy) archaeo­logical archives’ fundamental purposes, these issues make legacy archives a particular challenge to make truly accessible. By ‘truly’ accessible I mean discoverable to the modern (global) public(s) and not overly confusing (or daunting ) to potential users. Accessibility, after all, is not only about literal access to a document or object (or its surrogate), but also low-barrier pathways into knowing an object in a holistic sense

(including context) and utilizing it for one’s (research) purposes. In the past decade or so, the first broad movement toward experimentation with the creation and circulation of digital surrogates for archival and artefactual objects was particularly concerned with providing literal access to physically held collections. Instead of obliging users to travel to the content, digital content could, for the first time, travel to the user. Circumventing the limitations associated with travel to collections, collection digitization has drastically improved the number of people worldwide who have the possibility of discovering and viewing an institution’s items. This is an important effort in terms of inclusivity of access. Critiques over the last decades, however, especially those inspired by increased attention to materiality, have rightfully questioned what we stand to lose by interacting with digitized reproductions of archival documents rather than visiting physical archives to assess primary source material first-hand. With growing appreciation for the materiality of print and other paper-based resources in recent decades, one of the strongest criticisms levelled specifically at digital archives is in the potential informational losses brought about by a failure

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0 to fully appreciate the materiality of archival documents including (but not limited to) printed and handwritten documents, notebooks, printed photos, photo­g raphic negatives, and the like.21 Especially given ever-present pressures on staff time and budgets in GLAM institutions, there is a temptation to privilege documentation of and access to the perceived (main) subject of such archival materials, as for instance the visual content of a photo­graph or the textual content of a letter. Such an orientation, however, can lead to inadvertent omission, or else active erasure, of material traces that illuminate a document’s phenomeno­logical impacts on users, or otherwise attest to the life of the document since its creation and storage.22 Examples of phenomeno­logical aspects whose impacts are muted in digital facsimiles (or, in the best-case scenario, only gestured at) include, among others, tactile and olfactory experiences, as well as experiential differences brought about by manipulating an object in different lighting conditions.23 Among the material traces that attest to the ‘life’ of a document that may go unnoticed, undocumented, or sometimes even erased to create a ‘clean’ copy are notations (handwritten or otherwise) on areas of a document that are typically deemed of secondary importance (as, for instance, annotations on the frames around photo­graphic negatives, or the reverse or margins on any sort of document). 24 Similarly, physical traces of use vary from, for example, fingerprints deposited on the object over the timeline of its existence, traces of kissing and/or rubbing in the context of its original use, as well as stains, tears, and other modifications attributable to the period of the document’s use as an archival resource. Fortunately, however, materialist critiques have prompted, and the increased affordability of high-resolution imagery has made possible, digital photo­g raphic records that at least include among their priorities the intentional documentation of visual clues that correlate to archival documents’ material qualities. Highresolution photo­graphy that picks up on the unique visual elements associated with the texture of, for example, vellum or a pulpy paper with natural inclusions, or as in Figure 4.1, the texture left by brushstrokes in plaster, or 21 

Edwards and Hart 2004; Baird and McFayden 2014; Burns 2014; Dever 2019. 22  On the pros and cons of digital reconstruction of archival documents, see, for instance, Burns 2014; Rambaran-Olm 2015. 23  Burns 2014; Rekrut 2014; Fornaro, Bianco, and Rosenthaler 2016; Bembibre and Strlič 2017. 24  Baird and McFayden 2014.

47 the use of techniques like Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI) to capture the impacts of lighting conditions on a material’s surface can at the very least gesture via visual means toward tactile and ephemeral aspects of an archival object.25 Following on from such developments and the rise in interest in archival preservation of smells, perhaps cataloguing and providing remote access to traces of smell associated with objects will eventually be possible.26 Another major critique of the increasing (default) consultation of digital versus physical archives is that the painstaking perusal of physical archives provides an unpredictable potential for serendipitous discovery of related (but unanticipated) material that is not replicated in digital archives. The experience of a scholar accessing a physical archival space to call up a documented object for examination only to be confronted with unexpected evidence that meaningfully impacts the direction of the researcher’s inquiries, or else led the researcher to important documentation that the scholar in question only became aware of thanks to the serendipity of a particular archive’s storage and documentation practices or interpersonal exchanges, is so anecdotally well attested that it has almost become a tacit, if utopian, ambition among visitors to physical archives.27 With the developments in the realm of LOD, however, the assessment that serendipitous discovery is confined to physical archives can perhaps be qualified and/or reassessed. I will return to this point in the discussion of LOD’s promise for archaeo­logical archives.

Web 2.0 and LOD In order to pave the way for understanding how new developments in the digital realm hold promise for archaeo­logical archives, it is first necessary to briefly introduce and define Web 2.0, Linked Open Data, and 25 

Fornaro, Bianco, and Rosenthaler 2016. On olfactory archiving, see Bembibre and Strlič 2017. The trouble with both visual and olfactory archiving at this moment in their development is that they both can only, at best, artificially preserve what are in fact relatively transient sensations experienced in a narrowly bound chrono­logical moment. As yet, I am unaware of any successful pioneering efforts to digitally document various phenomeno­logical aspects of an archival document and package the various file types necessary for preserving disparate sensorial information in such a way that they are readily accessible from a single interface, but the techno­logical building blocks seem to be in place such that it could be possible in the future. 27  Hoeflich 2007; Pak 2018. 26 

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48 some associated concepts. Different stages of the internet’s development are commonly described with ‘versioning’ language borrowed from the world of software development. Web 2.0 refers to the internet as we know it today, differentiating it from Web 1.0 of the 1990s and early 2000s with its very basic capabilities. Where Web 1.0 pages were static and retrieved from servers, Web 2.0 is dynamic and interactive, and has led to explosions in social connectivity and user-generated content. Recently, there is even talk of a Web 3.0, the future of the internet. Building on developments in Web 2.0, Web 3.0 is envisioned as underpinned by key concepts of openness, decentralization, and greater utility. Forecasters also project that Web 3.0 will utilize the power of Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning to allow computers to understand complex information (like relationships between various topics, people, contexts, publications, datasets,  etc.) more like humans, and thus be able to answer more complex questions in much more accurate ways than currently possible.28 The capacity for Web 3.0’s vision of computers better able to understand the complex relationships among information is in large part reliant on what Tim BernersLee first coined and described in 2001 as the Semantic Web.29 In simple terms, Berners-Lee’s vision was that if folks managing and publishing digital data agree to follow simple guidelines that allow for a lot of flexibility in implementation, it is possible to create a digital network (a Web of Data) mapping interconnections among different ideas, people, places, things, events, and datasets, such that both a human and a computer can crawl through the Web of Data to understand how data managed by different institutions or entities may have points of overlap. In this digital ecosystem, resources held and catalogued in independent online resources could mutually enrich and help to better contextualize one another. This mapping of relationships among different datasets can also be referred to as Linked Data.30 In 2006, Berners-Lee proposed what he called the Five Star scheme for Linked Open Data to ‘provide guidelines for data providers and publishers in order to make data more accessible, available and reusable over the Web’:31 28 

‘Web 2.0 and Web 3.0 Definition’, 2021. Berners-Lee 2001. 30  ‘Linked Data – W3C 2021’. 31  A. Hasnain and D. Rebholz-Schuhmann 2018, 471–72. See Berners-Lee 2006 for the original description of the five star LOD scheme. 29 



* make your stuff available on the Web (whatever format) under an open licence



** make it available as structured data (e.g. Excel instead of image scan of a table)



*** make it available in a non-proprietary open format (e.g. CSV instead of Excel) **** use URIs32 to denote things, so that people can point at your stuff

***** link your data to other data to provide context This schema essentially paves a path for how data providers/publishers can create data that will ultimately contribute to the envisioned Web of Data. If we are currently in Web 2.0, but need to be planning for an eventual turn toward a future Web 3.0, the choice for a GLAM institution to begin moving its data now toward greater compliance with Berners-Lees’s guidelines for five star LOD is a good bet for preserving data relevance into the future and increasing the likelihood that the institution’s data will be able to benefit from and partake in whatever the developments of the eventual Web 3.0 hold.

Digitized Legacy Archaeo­logical Archival Content and LOD The ideas and tools for LOD already exist in Web 2.0, and as such it is possible to begin envisioning what LOD principles may be able to do for improving the accessibility and comprehensibility of legacy archaeo­logical archive data. Discussion here is meant to provide some case-study type examples that can help to demonstrate the potential of LOD for improving legacy archaeo­logical archives rather than to go too far into technical and practical ‘howtos’. As intimated previously, LOD holds promise for helping to mitigate challenges inherent to legacy archaeo­ logical archives and also provides important pathways by which GLAM institutions can improve their digitization schemes in ways that respond to the insightful critiques of first efforts at collection digitization. 32  URI stands for Uniform Resource Identifier, defined as a character sequence that identifies a logical (abstract) or physical resource (like a book, artefact, or building) that is usually, but not always, connected to the internet. Uniform resource locators (URLs, also known as web addresses) are more familiar and are a particular type of URI. For an accessible definition of URIs, from which the explanation offered here is adapted, and for further clarification on what distinguishes URIs from URLs and how they relate to one another, see Awati 2021.

4. Digital Archaeo­logical Archives 2.0 First, to the issue of the essentiality (but difficulties) of establishing firm and clear ‘tethers’ for archival and artefactual objects to their architectural or other physical contexts that are often either destroyed through the destructive processes of excavation or else remain in situ. As discussed above, multilingualism and instability/ conflict over naming traditions can be major barriers in effectively communicating how a material is tied to its find context. However, one of the pioneering efforts in the creation of Linked Open Data for the ancient world, digital gazetteers, offers a solution that collections working in an LOD environment can utilize to make find contexts clearer to audiences of all kinds. In traditional terms, a ‘gazetteer’ is a geo­g raphical index or dictionary. In the digital world, online gazetteers like Pleiades33 or the World Historical Gazetteer (WHG)34 play a crucial role in the Linked Data ecosystem since they disambiguate and geolocate places and define stable identifiers (URIs) that facilitate the open reuse of such data.35 Digital gazetteers have conventionally been concerned with the disambiguation of places at the macro, site level. With regard to Antiquity, Pleiades has, for instance, provided disambiguation, geospatial location, and stable identifiers (URIs) that differentiate between the city of Alexandria founded at the junction of the Indus and the Acesines Rivers,36 and the other, better-known Alexandria in Eg ypt’s Nile Delta, 37 as well as other places of the same name. Reuse of Pleiades’ unique identification numbers within an LOD environment enables a data provider to label their data in a way that makes clear to both computer and human users that the data point in question pertains to the Egyptian Alexandria rather than the place today in Pakistan (or any other ‘Alexandria’) that was once known by the same name. As already discussed, many of the same problems that have led to the creation of digital gazetteers on the macro-scale are also a challenge at a finer, site-specific level of granularity. This is why there is a growing interest in the creation of digital urban gazetteers that extend the 33 

[accessed 21 May 2022]. [accessed 21 May 2022]. 35  On digital gazetteers as a critical backbone of LOD, see for instance Southall, Mostern, and Berman 2011; Hara 2017, 69–75; Horne 2020, 37–50. 36  [accessed 21 May 2022]. 37   [accessed 21 May 2022]. 34 

49 range of the macro-scale gazetteers.38 Digital urban gazetteers provide unique identifiers, in the form of URIs, that help to disambiguate potentially confusing naming traditions (multilinguistic and as a result of inconsistency) associated with individual buildings or other features within a city or site and associate those places with specific geospatial coordinates. A concrete example may, once again, help to make this abstract concept more intelligible. Recall the previous example of Dura-Europos’s Temple of Bêl and its complex naming traditions. In partnership with Pleiades, the International Digital Dura-Europos Archive (IDEA) project is creating urban gazetteer entries for the buildings and other features at Dura-Europos, including the Temple of Bêl. This means that collections/data publishers working within the LOD ecosystem can cite the unique identifier recently established for Dura’s Temple of Bêl39 as, say, the findspot location for an artefact, or the entity depicted in an archival photo­graph or drawing to more clearly communicate the context from which the object in question came from. The urban gazetteer entry gathers up all the known name variants associated with this specific building (Temple of the Palmyrene Gods, Temple of the Oriental Gods, Temple of Zeus, Temple of Palmyrene Bêl, Temple of Bêl) and defines geo­graphic coordinates for the building’s in situ location, and all of that information is packaged into a stable identifier that will remain constant. As such, when a dataset labels their data using the stable identifier associated with Dura’s Temple of Bêl, their data becomes enriched by all the information gathered in the urban gazetteer entry. So, an object whose original metadata was labelled with ‘Temple of the Palmyrene Gods’ would become findable by searching for objects from ‘Temple of the Palmyrene Gods’ or any other name that has been associated with this specific building over time. Citing the stable identifier for this building in the LOD ecosystem thus enables a computer to understand when data is associated 38  Pioneering projects that include the development of urban gazetteer data, apart from the work being done by IDEA and referenced here, include, for instance, Map of Early Modern London (MoEML): ; Pompei Artistic Landscape Project (PALP): . In partnership with IDEA and other projects like it, Pleiades has also begun to experiment with gazetteer coverage that descends into further levels of granularity. For the final report from a recent working group on how and why to build digital urban gazetteers, organized by the Pelagios Network, see Vitale and de Beer, 2019. 39  [accessed 25 June 2020].

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50 with this ‘Temple of Bêl’ (in Dura-Europos, Syria) not that ‘Temple of Bêl’ (in Palmyra, Syria) as well as turn up all materials relevant to the ‘Temple of Bêl’ no matter whether the linguistic labels for the data call the building Temple of the Palmyrene Gods, Temple of the Oriental Gods, Temple of Zeus, Temple of Palmyrene Bêl. The same principle is extensible to naming traditions in various languages in ways that could make collections more discoverable and user-friendly for additional global users. With regard to archaeo­logy, this latter possibility could be an especially powerful method by which to begin rectifying inequalities of access to archaeo­logical data that came into Western collections as a result of problematic colonialist dynamics. If inhabitants of the modern country where archaeo­logical data was sourced have limited physical access to the materials in question because they reside in Western collections, the digital surrogates for those materials should at least be discoverable in the native language of the territory from which the originals came. Citation of urban gazetteer identifiers within an LOD environment is also a means by which to work around the physical fragmentation of legacy archaeo­ logical datasets. If different institutions that hold materials relevant to a single archaeo­logical site make their data available as LOD and reuse urban gazetteer identifiers to label their data, it becomes possible for users to utilize a single interface to search across collections for digital surrogates relevant to a particular archaeo­logical context despite linguistic and naming-tradition variations among the host collections. LOD also presents a useful means for clarifying contextual relationships among legacy archaeo­logical datapoints where the long arms of early archaeo­logical inclinations toward taxonomy have obscured context and relationships among different categories of data. Imagine, for instance, a graffito scratched into the surface of a specific wall painting removed from an archaeo­logical site; as two categorically different types of archaeo­logical remains, they were documented and analysed separately by the original excavators, without specific mention of a relationship between them. Over time, digital corpora for specific types of ancient data (graffiti, for instance) have been built based on the original documentation where context was not a primary concern. If the collection hosting the wall painting, the institution hosting the archival information associated with the excavation of the wall painting, and the hypothetical digital graffiti corpora were all participating in the LOD ecosystem,

it would be possible to make structured, machine-readable statements that assert that the graffito is actually inscribed into the wall painting, as well as to point to archival documents relevant to the context of these two related entities. Turning to the criticism levelled against the use of digital surrogates in place of material originals, critics are of course right that a digital surrogate can perhaps never fully stand-in for tangible objects. However, as noted, the materialist critique of digitization has had a positive effect in terms of inspiring more careful digitization practices that appreciate the materiality of archival documents and the potential for their ephemeral impacts upon users. Collections that had not attempted the digitization of collections have been able to learn from the ‘mistakes’ of early experimenters, while early experimenters either have already, or else are contemplating, re-digitization that accounts for oversights in initial efforts. In both cases, LOD could prove useful. First, as research and digital techno­logical development progresses, and methods for capturing and sharing different phenomeno­logical aspects of archival documents become possible (for instance, simulating shifting lighting conditions, or capturing olfactory data), it is likely that different kinds of data will require different file types (much as static photo­g raphy and 3D imagery require different file types), or different computational access environments. If all file types holding different kinds of phenomeno­logical data are linked in an LOD environment and point to the same stable identifier (URI) for the object they refer to, one could conceivably locate all the disparate data associated with a specific object or archival document from a single interface, thus providing a better, more holistic digital approximation of a material resource than available previously. For those institutions that pioneered collection digitization and did not have the benefit of recent materialist critique when planning and executing their undertakings, LOD can be beneficial in slightly different ways. Just as successive physical photo­graphs of, say, a specific building can be appreciated and archivally documented thanks to the fact that they capture the building in question at a particular moment in time, so too can successive efforts at digitization be seen as worthy of preservation.40 Making available successive versions of digitized collection objects could, for instance, reveal how archival thinking and treatment of collection materials has 40 

Burns 2017.

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51

Figure 4.2. Screenshot of an interactive visualization produced via the Wikidata Query Service, visualizing how the central node, an item representing an in situ graffito at Dura-Europos, relates to other entities in a nascent linked data environment. One path through these links might lead a user from the in situ graffito to the facsimile in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery archives that depicts it, and from there to the archaeo­logist responsible for its creation (Maurice Pillet), whose personal archives are held at the Collège de France.

evolved over time. Once again, to facilitate such future analysis, collections can establish unique LOD identifiers for each successive digitization and link them back to the LOD entity established to denote the original physical entity that the digitized images represent. As opposed to a wholesale replacement of what might be deemed less-than-comprehensive older digitizations with newer files created in an era that has internalized the materialist critiques of the last decade (without preserving access to intermediate iterations), I would argue that it is important for collections to document and make available all the various intermediary stages in how they are grasping at what it means to make their collections ‘accessible’ and how best to achieve it. Doing so may allow future generations to ask (and answer) questions about the evolution in how physical collections and the features deemed most important in their accessibility were conceptualized at the dawn of the digitization movement, or

else other questions that have yet to occur to contemporary researchers. Finally, as also noted previously, recent critiques have worried that use of digital surrogates as opposed to inperson visits to peruse collections risk missing out on the unpredictable serendipity of research in physical archives. Once again, this is a valid point and not every aspect of serendipity may be replicable in the digital environment. However, what broad uptake of LOD promises, a Web of Data that both computers and humans can navigate to understand relationships between collections and datasets managed by different institutions and data publishers, could itself be a means to digital serendipity that reaches beyond accidental discoveries in the context of a single collection, opening up the whole of the LOD ecosystem to unexpected by-the-way connections and realizations. Imagine a user interested in a particular digital surrogate for a facsimile of an ancient graffito signed by

Anne Hunnell Chen

52 the archaeo­logist responsible. Utilizing interactive visualizations (see Fig. 4.2) available within the LOD ecosystem that allow users to crawl from their initial object of interest through the Web of Data to related entities, one could imagine coming upon facsimile works by the same archaeo­logist held in a different archival collection (perhaps from a different or even the same archaeo­logical site, depending on the circumstances). A student of mine once analogized navigating serendipitously through the Web of Data as akin to going down a Wikipedia rabbit-hole, following links to items of interest, all the while also being able to see the parallel rabbit-holes of the links not travelled.

Conclusion A future where there are bridges between independent online collections (including those from different disciplinary perspectives and geo­g raphic regions), and resources are discoverable in more world languages than ever before holds bright prospects for archaeo­logy, and not only for the archaeo­logy of regions that are inaccessible for the foreseeable future due to the devastation of ongoing war. Allowing objects and sites to ‘speak’ across institutional, disciplinary, and cultural lines, and lowering barriers to intellectual access for researchers who have not previously had the privilege of access to collections kept and curated in the West and exclusively in Western languages will surely allow researchers all over the globe to ask new questions of old data and force us to grapple with perspectives that challenge long-held privileged assumptions.

Works Cited Awati, R. 2021. ‘What Is a Uniform Resource Identifier (URI)?’, WhatIs.com [accessed 15 December 2021]. Baird, J. A. 2010. ‘The Graffiti of Dura-Europos: A Contextual Approach’, in J. Baird and C. Taylor (eds), Ancient Graffiti in Context (London: Taylor and Francis), pp. 49–68. —— . 2011. ‘Photo­graphing Dura-Europos, 1928–1937: An Archaeo­logy of the Archive’, American Journal of Archaeo­logy, 115.3: 427–46. —— . 2018. Dura-Europos (London: Bloomsbury). Baird, J. A. and C. Taylor. 2010. ‘Ancient Graffiti in Context: Introduction’, in J. A. Baird and C. Taylor (eds), Ancient Graffiti in Context (London: Taylor and Francis), pp. 1–19. Baird, J. A. and L. McFadyen. 2014. ‘Towards an Archaeo­logy of Archaeo­logical Archives’, Archaeo­logical Review from Cambridge, 29.2: 14–32. Baur, P. V. C. and M. I. Rostovtzeff (eds). 1929. The Excavations at Dura-Europos, i: Preliminary Report of First Season of Work, Spring 1928 (New Haven: Yale Uni­ver­sity Press). ——— (eds). 1931. The Excavations at Dura-Europos, ii: Preliminary Report of Second Season, Oct. 1928 — April 1929 (New Haven: Yale Uni­ver­sity Press). Bembibre, C. and M. Strlič. 2017. ‘Smell of Heritage: A Framework for the Identification, Analysis and Archival of Historic Odours’, Heritage Science, 5: 2 . Berners-Lee, T. 2006. ‘Linked Data – Design Issues’ [accessed 15 December 2021]. Berners-Lee, T., J. Hendler, and O. Lassila. 2001. ‘The Semantic Web’, Scientific American [accessed 12 December 2021]. Bond, S. E. 2018. ‘Digitization ≠ Repatriation: When Digital Humanities Provides Access but Not Restitution’, History from Below (blog) [accessed 7 December 2021]. Brody, L. 2011. ‘Yale Uni­ver­sity and Dura-Europos: From Excavation to Installation’, in L.  Brody and G.  Hoffman (eds), DuraEuropos: Crossroads of Antiquity (Chicago: Uni­ver­sity of Chicago Press), pp. 17–32. Brody, L. and G. Hoffman. 2011. ‘Introduction’, in L. Brody and G. Hoffman (eds), Dura-Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity (Chicago: Uni­ver­sity of Chicago Press), pp. 7–10.

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Burns, J. E. 2014. ‘Digital Facsimiles and the Modern Viewer: Medi­eval Manu­scripts and Archival Practice in the Age of New Media’, Art Documentation: Journal of the Art Libraries Society of North America, 33.2: 148–67. —— . 2017. ‘The Aura of Materiality: Digital Surrogacy and the Preservation of Photo­graphic Archives’, Art Documentation: Journal of the Art Libraries Society of North America, 36.1: 1–8. Cumont, F. 1926. Fouilles de Doura-Europos (1922–1923) (Paris: Geuthner). ‘Cutting Edge: Protecting and Preserving Cultural Diversity in the Digital Era’, UNESCO, 28 October 2020 [accessed 7 December 2021]. Dever, M. 2019. ‘The Matter of Archival Paperwork: An Introduction’, in Paper, Materiality and the Archived Page (London: Palgrave Macmillan), pp. 1–25. Edwards, E. and J. Hart. 2004. ‘Introduction: Photo­graphs as Objects’, in E. Edwards and J. Hart (eds), Photo­graphs Objects Histories: On the Materiality of Images (London: Routledge), pp. 1–15. Fornaro, P., A. Bianco, and L. Rosenthaler. 2016. ‘Digital Materiality with Enhanced Reflectance Transformation Imaging’, Archiving Conference, 1: 11–14. Fredricks, J. 2018. ‘Digital Tools and How We Use Them: The Destruction and Reconstruction of Tangible Cultural Heritage in Syria’, MW18: Museums and the Web 2018 [accessed 10 December 2021]. ‘GLAM/Digital Collections – Outreach Wiki’ [accessed 15 December 2021]. Grindle, N. 2013. ‘Worth the Wait’, Oxford Art Journal, 36.2: 314–16. Hara, S. 2017. ‘Digital Gazetteer as a Knowledgebase for Open Data Science’, Pacific Neighborhood Consortium Annual Conference and Joint Meetings (PNC), 2017: 69–75. Hasnain, A. and D. Rebholz-Schuhman. 2018. ‘Assessing FAIR Data Principles against the 5-Star Open Data Principles’, in European Semantic Web Conference, Heraklion, Crete, Greece, June 3–7, 2018: Revised Selected Papers (Cham: Springer), pp. 469–77. Hoeflich, M. 2007. ‘Serendipity in the Stacks, Fortuity in the Archives’, Law Library Journal, 99.1: 813–27. Holland, C. 2020. ‘Ethics and Cultural Institutions — Can Digitisation “Save” Museums from Repatriation?’ [accessed 7 December 2021]. Horne, R. 2020. ‘Beyond Lists: Digital Gazetteers and Digital History’, The Historian, 82.1: 37–50. ‘Introduction: GLAM 3D Open Access’, 2021, Engleberg Center on Innovation Law and Policy at NYU Law School [accessed 12 December 2021]. ‘Linked Data – W3C’, World Wide Web Consortium [accessed 13 December 2021]. Morrison, J. and A. Woog. 2009. Syria, 2nd edn (New York: Infobase). Pak, S. J. 2018. ‘Serendipity and the Archives’, The Morgan Library & Museum: Tales from the Reading Room (blog) [accessed 10 November 2021]. Rambaran-Olm, M. R. 2015. ‘The Advantages and Disadvantages of Digital Reconstruction and Anglo-Saxon Manu­scripts’, Digital Medi­evalist, 9 . Renfrew, C. and P. Bahn. 2020. Archaeo­logy: Theories, Methods and Practice (London: Thames and Hudson). Rekrut, A. 2014. ‘Matters of Substance: Materiality and Meaning in Historical Records and their Digital Images’, Archives and Manu­scripts, 42.3: 238–47. Southall, H., R.  Mostern, and M.  Lex Berman. 2011. ‘On Historical Gazetteers’, International Journal of Humanities and Arts Computing, 5.2: 127–45. Tausch, R., M. Domajnko, and M Ritz. 2020. ‘Towards 3D Digitization in the GLAM (Galleries, Libraries, Archives, and Museums) Sector. Lessons Learned and Future Outlook’, IPSI BgD Transactions on Internet Research, 16.1: 45–53. Wallace, A. 2020. ‘Open GLAM: Introduction’, Open GLAM [accessed 7 December 2021]. ‘Web 2.0 and Web 3.0 Definition’, Investopedia [accessed 12 December 2021].

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery: Exploring the Archives of the Anglo-American Excavations of 1928–1930 and 1930–1934 Lisa Brody Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery

Rubina Raja Centre for Urban Network Evolutions, Aarhus Uni­ver­sity

Archive Archaeo­logy and Legacy Data from Twentieth-Century Excavations at Gerasa Gerasa, or Jerash as the city was called from the Islamic period onwards, is located about an hour’s drive from modern Amman, ancient Philadelphia. Once a Decapolis city, its impressive ruins attract numerous tourists every year, and it is the second-most visited archaeo­logical site in Jordan after Petra in the south.1 The city was rediscovered by Jasper Ulrich Seetzen and placed correctly back on the map in 1806 and thereafter it was visited by numerous Western travellers, who passed through and most often did not spend more than a day or two at the site on their way to or from Jerusalem or Palmyra.2 In 1902, Gottlieb Schumacher published his plan of the city, and around the same time, the German mission working at Baalbek went to Gerasa for a few months to explore the site and conducted some soundings focusing on the monumental complexes partly visible in the city.3 However, the first large-scale systematic excavations took place at Gerasa shortly after Transjordan had become part of the British Mandate following World War I and the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire.4 The city, which is most famously known as an important classical urban site, a Decapolis city, flourished throughout the Classical and Early Islamic periods.5 A team, first jointly from Yale Uni­ver­sity and the British School of Archaeo­logy in Jerusalem (1928–1930) and later from Yale Uni­ver­s ity and the American School (1930–1934), worked there over the course of several intense campaigns and transformed the site from being 1 

Lichtenberger 2003; Raja 2012; Mortensen 2017; 2018; Lichten­berger and Raja 2020b. 2  Seetzen 1854; Lichtenberger and Raja (forthcoming a). 3  Schumacher 1902; Lichtenberger and Raja 2020b. 4  Lichtenberger and Raja 2018c; Mortensen 2018. 5  Lichtenberger and Raja 2018a; 2018b; 2019a; 2020a.

a location with ruins sticking out of the ground here and there to bringing at least parts of the site back to its mainly Roman- and Byzantine-period splendour.6 The vast and diverse archive from the excavations has been housed at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery since the time of the excavations in the 1920s and 1930s, with objects and documents being shipped to New Haven after each season, and has partly been accessible to scholars who have been interested in the site’s archaeo­logical historio­ graphy. Since C. H. Kraeling’s monumental edited volume Gerasa, City of the Decapolis (which to this day remains a standard work on the site, despite the fact that some of the interpretations naturally will be outdated at this point in time), the archival material has been revisited by some, but has never been systematically researched.7 In a new project initiated jointly by the authors of this contribution, the Gerasa Excavation Archive will over the coming years be systematically digitized, researched, and a commentary will be produced. The outcome of the project will be in print and e-publications as well as a fully open data repository of the archive. Through such a project, we will surely gain new insights into the archaeo­logical work undertaken in the 1920s and 1930s at the site, and the archive will be made freely accessible to both the academic and wider community for further research, which can be conducted without a physical visit to the archive. At the end of this contribution forty-one examples of material from the archive at Yale are given and commented on by the authors to give an impression of archive’s content (Figs 5.1–5.41). Furthermore fifteen 6  Brody 2012; Alexaki 2017; Lichtenberger and Raja 2018c; 2020b. 7  Kraeling 1938; Stinespring 1938.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 55–81 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130473

Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja

56 images from other sites around Gerasa from the archive have also been included (Figs 5.42–5.56). Today — as the world is slowly transitioning out of a two-year pandemic phase into a post-pandemic phase — it is so much clearer why there still is an urgent need to make research resources available in Open Data forms. Since the beginning of the COVID-19 global pandemic in late 2019 brought continuous lockdowns and tight restrictions, some of which still apply in some places across the world ( January 2022), much research has been stalled simply because academics could not gain access to the resources which they needed in order to push forward their research ideas — the data has simply not been available to them. The impact of the pandemic on research in many ways has been felt harder in first-world countries, and hopefully, it has heightened our awareness of situations in many other underprivileged countries — situations which were in place also before the pandemic — and which we should work to change.8 For decades it has been clear that there is a bias in how research can be undertaken that pertains to resources and mobility — which largely depends on access to research funding and the political situation in a given country. Numerous scholars worldwide do not have access to research funding, and some cannot undertake travels to archives scattered around the world for political reasons. So certainly, the lessons learned from the pandemic are not the only reasons that resources, such as archives, should be made available. In fact, at the centre of the accessibility debate stands democratization of data and a discussion about Open Access and Open Data underlined by the FAIR Principles.9

The Gerasa Excavation Archive The Gerasa Excavation Archive is located at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery and consists of both photo­ graphic and paper documentation from the early excavations divided into eight boxes of material (Table 5.1). The photo­g raphic negatives and paper documents were sent back to Yale Uni­ver­sity after each campaign from 1928 through 1934 and were placed in storage in a residence that was owned by the university and was under the stewardship of the Department of Classics. The excavation report was being written and published by Yale Classics Professor Paul V. C. Baur. The archive came under the auspices of the Yale Uni­v er­s ity Art 8  9 

Miranda and Raja (forthcoming). Wilkinson and others 2016.

Table 5.1. Inventory list of the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery Gerasa Excavation Archive.

Gerasa archives currently at The Yale University Art Gallery in “Grey Board” boxes on book shelves:

BOX #1 Photo Album-site photographs (20 pages), object photos from 1929 (10 pages) Jerash Photograph Series A-1930-1933 Jerash Photograph Series B 1930-1933 1 large composite of inscription

BOX #2 Object registers 2 bound volumes in one: Vol. 1, pages 1-101 May 25-Nov. 10 1930 Vol. 2 pages 102-152 Nov. 1930-June 14, 1934 1928 Crowfoot Excavation Object Registers, 2 volumes: Vol. 1 pages 1-93 Vol. 2 pages 1-90, March 24, 1929-Nov. 1, 1929

BOX #3 Transit book 1 Detweiler Transverse of North Gate, Oct. 1933 Levels of North Gate, Nov. 1933 Transverse of South Tetrapylon, Nov. 1933 Transverse of South Tetrapylon, June 1934 Transit book 2 Details of Great Contour Survey, Dec. 9, 1931 Level Book 3 Oil Press Oct. 1930 Cemetery Nov. 1930 Wings of Temple and Area East, Dec. 1930 SW of Forum, May 1931 East of Forum, May 1931 Rooms inside Expedition House Courtyard, May 1931 Room Sub F43, May 1931 Furnace South of Forum, May 1931 Circular Wall NE of Forum, May 1931 South Tetrapylon NW Sector June 1931, Nov. 1931 South Tetrapylon NE Sector, No Date Level Book 4 NE of Horsefield’s House, Sept.-Nov. 1931 Level Book 5 General, May 1930 Group below Dump, June 1930 Levels of Oil Press, Oct. 1930 Forum, April 1931 Cistern, NE of Forum, April 1931 Misc. Walls near camp, April 1931 Forum Area, April 1931 Misc. Levels, June 1930

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery

Level Book 6 Great Survey, SW Cl Great Survey, SE C1 Great Survey, SE D1 Great Survey, SW B1 Great Survey, SW C2 Great Survey, SW B3 Great Survey, SW B2 Great Survey Sheet A2, Oct. 1932 Hippodrome, South Gate, May 1933 Triumphal Arch, May 1933 Hippodrome, May 1933 South Gate, May 1933 Hippodrome, June 1933 South Tetrapylon, Hippodrome, June 1933 South Tetrapylon, SE quadrant, Dec. 1933 South Tetrapylon, SE quadrant, June 1934 South Tetrapylon, NE quadrant, June 1934 South Tetrapylon, SE quadrant, June 1934 South Tetrapylon, SW quadrant, June 1934 Fisher, Miscellaneous Notes, 1, 2 Oct. 1931 Diary of General Events, April-June 1934 Diary of Events, including Guest Register, March 1933 South Tetrapylon, vol. 1, June 1933 South Tetrapylon, W. D. Merrill, April-June 1934 South Tetrapylon, W.D. Merrill, Oct. 1933 North Tetra pylon, Albert Dance (?) North Gate A. H. Detweiler, Sept. 1933. South Gate, A.H. Detweiler, April-June 1933 Levels-Churches Cathedral, St. Marys Levels Jerash Survey Angle Book, C.M. Hucklesby, April 1931

BOX #4 Expedition Accounts Spring, Fall, 1930 Spring, Fall, 1931 Spring, Fall, 1933 Spring, 1934 Folder-Welles manuscript (original) of Inscriptions of Jerash Folder-Original typewritten expedition reports (with photos) 1931 by C. Fisher Summary of work 1931 Diary Season 1931 Letters to Yale Request for division of finds

Folder-Typewritten expedition report 1928 by Crowfoot Folder-Report on Temple of Artemis, by Crowfoot, 1930

BOX #5 Once bound now deteriorating, each inscription on single page with drawing, translation, publication information and photograph Inscription sheets Jones no. 101-150 Jones nos. 151-173 New nos. 174-200

BOX #6 Once bound now deteriorating, each inscription on single page with drawing, translation, publication information and photograph Lucas nos. 1-50 Lucas nos. 51-100 New nos. 94-100

BOX #7 Once bound now deteriorating, each inscription on single page with drawing, translation, publication information and photograph New (?) 243-245 Published Crowfoot Churches at Jerash New nos. 251-278, 280-291, 295297, 299-302, 342-344 New nos. 201-250 Loose Lucas nos. 3-7, 16, 17, 22, 39, 31a-f Pella 12

BOX #8 5 boxes of Jerash Site buildings cards, objects cards, and 1 box of glass negatives, negative albums and other site info A General views Temple of Artemis Temple of Zeus Nymphaeum Grand Theatre Birketien Odeum Hippodrome

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B. Triumphal Arch North Tetrapylon South Tetrapylon North Gate South Gate (Philadelphia fort) West Gate Fortifications Streets New (small) Temple C. Private Houses Bishop Genesius’ Church Bridge Propylaea Church Ma rianus Church Small Chapel SE of Cathedral Mortuary Church Clergy House St. Theodore’s Church Synagogue Church Procopius Church St. John’s Church Cathedral Church of Sts. Cosmas and Diamianus Fountain Court Church of Sts. Peter and Paul D. Mosaics Architectural Detail Inscriptions Coins Glass Bronze Lamps E. Byzantine pottery Figurines Sculpture Bone Jewelry Stone Terra cotta F. Glass negatives Contour Maps Ajlun Suf Ain Kerwan Black and white negative film roll 1932.1735 3 albums of black and white negs

58 Gallery around 1975, at the same time that the curatorial responsibility of the excavated objects from Gerasa was transferred to the Gallery from the Department of Classics. The archives were originally kept in small non-climate-controlled storerooms in the basement of the museum. When the Louis Kahn building of the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery was slated for renovation in the early 2000s, the objects and large-format drawings from the Gerasa excavations were moved to an off-site storage facility being shared with the Yale Uni­ver­sity library system (called LSF: Library Storage Facility); the archival negatives and other paper files were moved to the new curatorial offices of the Department of Ancient Art, at 215 Park Street. The physical disconnect between the objects on view, objects in storage, and excavation archives made scholarly research logistically difficult for years. In 2007, Yale Uni­ver­sity purchased the 136-acre Bayer Pharmaceutical campus in West Haven (11  km from Yale’s central campus), primarily to expand Yale’s science and medical facilities. One large building, now called the Collection Study Center, was designated as a crossroads between the arts and the sciences. Shared by several Yale museums, it now allows for off-site object storage (allowing all of LSF to be used by the library, as intended) in close physical proximity to shared laboratories for conservation and materials analysis, as well as digital imaging studios. Office space in the building was provided for curators, registrars, and other museum staff, with a curatorial workroom equipped in 2015 with space for research together with files and compact shelving to hold the Gerasa Excavation Archives and other museum records. Having the objects from Gerasa in the same building as the excavation archives today enables visiting scholars to study the collection and to do contextual research without the disruption of working in multiple locations. Further publication of the Gerasa Excavation Archives will further facilitate this so that scholars can access and search the documentation online before planning their visits to the collection in detail and even do remote research on objects and the archival material. The photo­g raphs from the Anglo-American Gerasa Excavations (over one thousand glass and film negatives) were digitized between 2000 and 2002 as part of a rapid digitization project funded by James Ottaway. The speed of this digitization project, as well as the exponentially improved techno­logy in digital imagery over the past two decades, means that many of the images would benefit from rescanning, particularly those being used for publication or museum installation purposes.

Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja When the Gerasa photo­g raphs were first digitized, the files were linked to a stand-alone searchable database set up in the Image AXS database program. Each image was linked to an individual entry with fields that included a range of archaeo­logical and related information. This database was initially a valuable resource for scholars and teaching, but it could only be used in the physical office of the Department of Ancient Art at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. The program rapidly went out of date and is no longer sold or serviced; the computer holding the database became unreliable and barely usable by 2015. Part of the intention of the Ottaway Project was for the digital archive to be made widely available online. When this was attempted with Image AXS, it became clear that while the images could be posted online, they could not be searched. A few years later, the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery signed a contract with Artstor to add the Gerasa Excavation Archive images to the Artstor digital collection database. The information accompanying the images was incomplete, however, and when the images were imported to Artstor, they were resized so that the quality of the images was decreased. In addition, Artstor was at the time only available through an institutional connection. With the launch of Artstor’s Shared Shelf Commons platform around 2014, which did not require an institutional subscription, the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery requested that the Gerasa archives be moved there as part of a consistent desire to make the excavation archives widely accessible. This platform has evolved into Artstor’s vast ‘public collections’. Artstor’s public collections are openly available to anyone, with or without an Artstor subscription. They are shared by institutions that subscribe to JSTOR Forum, Artstor’s web-based service for cataloguing and managing digital collections. Many scholars, however, remain unaware that the Gerasa Excavation Archive is available through this resource, and both image quality and searchability for the documents remain critical issues. The Gerasa Excavation Archive also includes two file drawers of additional notes, reports, and correspondence, flat files holding large-format drawings of architectural features excavated by the Yale-British team, and eight archival boxes of field diaries (partly handwritten material), notes, photos, plans, and drawings. While the documents in these boxes were photo­ graphed and, in many instances, form part of the Artstor Gerasa public collection, they are difficult for researchers to locate, identify, and search. Their contents, therefore, are largely unknown and unpublished. Some of the most interesting pieces of documentation in these

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery boxes include a bound photo album (published here as an addendum in catalogue shape), object registers from excavation seasons 1928, 1930, and 1934, books of transit measurements and levels, contour maps, and detailed sheets about inscriptions discovered by the excavation team. Further, the field diaries have tremendous potential to provide information about the early Gerasa excavations that has never before been considered. The project the Unpublished Gerasa Archives at Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery from the Anglo-American Excavations 1928–1930 and 1930–1934 strives to publish the archival material from the early twentiethcentury investigations at ancient Gerasa in a transparent fashion to democratize primary source data for the archaeo­logy community writ large and the public. Through the upcoming digitization and partly re-digitization of the archive (since some parts of the archive were already digitized — see below), the work will also yield critical insights into the archive’s structure and curation. During this stage, the order in which the material is currently presented will be preserved — only should irrefutable data present itself will the structure of the archive be changed by the investigators. In the mission to publish transparently and authentically, it is critical that the current research team interferes as little as possible in data curation and organization — but describe the data as objectively as possible. Although further investigation of the material is warranted, the eight boxes at Yale and their contents present an initial structure for the publication and will be telling for the history of the archive: its formation and afterlife at Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. Once digitization and organization of the digital files have been completed, the investigators will transcribe, describe, and comment upon each item in the archive, and compose a biblio­ graphy and concordances for the in print and e-book publications. The PDFs of all the material will be made available online in raw data form as open data through Figshare, and related articles, linking to the open data, will be submitted to various relevant journals.10

Making Legacy Data Available through Best-Practice Development The Anglo-American and later exclusively American excavations were, as sketched out in the abstract, the first large-scale excavations at the site. They were undertaken 10  See for example other such projects undertaken partly by the involved team members: Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021; Miranda and Raja 2021; Raja and Steding 2021.

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when archaeo­logical fieldwork did not possess the methods and techniques we do today. Therefore, the way in which the site and numerous of its monuments, including the Sanctuary of Artemis, many churches, and the cathedral complex, were excavated focused exclusively on stripping the complexes and monuments of all phases later than that of the original date of the monument, be it the Roman or Byzantine periods, and restore these to their original states as much as possible. All later phases were lost in this process and were not published in detail in the monumental and still important 1938 publication edited by C. H. Kraeling Gerasa, City of the Decapolis. However, through preliminary work done on the archival material by Brody and Raja, it has become clear that information about the excavation processes and the removed later phases in some cases is available in the archival material — both in writing, through drawings, and photo­graphic material. Bringing this new information to publication, now almost ninety years after the excavations took place, is an important undertaking for several reasons: (1) archaeo­ logical missions still work at the site and could benefit from this information; (2) the site is under constant threat from building developments around it as well as illegal looting and continuously is deteriorating (it is not well fenced off ); (3) the information held in the archives will add new knowledge about the archaeo­logy and history of the site from the Late Hellenistic into the medi­eval periods and beyond and, therefore, add to our knowledge of this important region — both in a local, regional, and global historical context. By producing in print and e-publications with extensive commentaries as well as repositing the archive on Figshare, the archival material will be able to be used by any further interested parties as long as they credit the authors. On the one hand, this will spare the paper archive from damage through touch, and on the other hand, enable academics and interested parties from across the world to access this important archive and make their own conclusions based on the primary material. We believe that our publication strategy will support and stimulate further research and support the development of a best practice within the field by publishing in three different ways — in print, through e-publications, and in openly accessible repositories (under CC-BY 4.0 licences). Furthermore, the project’s purpose is to heighten awareness of how archival material from earlier archaeo­ logical excavations can be made accessible to a wider community and will also highlight why such practice

Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja

60 indeed should influence the way we undertake archaeo­ logical fieldwork today or even prepare archaeo­logical fieldwork. Raja has worked at the site since 2011 and only became aware of the archive in the process of her research over the last years. Now being in the final phase of the publications of her co-directed excavations, it has become clear that the archival material adds knowledge and that the team could have benefitted from this knowledge during the planning of the fieldwork. Learning from this experience, despite the archive being produced almost a century ago, Raja has pushed the agenda of publishing archaeo­logical data as open data from excavations — including data stemming from excavations, which she has co-directed.11 Through the joint project between the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery and Aarhus Uni­ver­sity, the researchers involved will show how cross-organizational and co-authored archival projects lift this arena to a different level and benefit both the holding institutions as well as researchers interested in the archaeo­logy of history of a specific site — in this case, Gerasa in Jordan.

Case Studies from the Archive The upcoming project will work its way through all the archival material on the inventory list over the coming two years. Here only a few preliminary case studies are presented. A cloth album with forty-one photo­g raphs, which seem to stem from the 1929 campaign at the site and were taken after the excavations, is presented here in preliminary commented shape to give the reader insight into some of the material in the archive. From a first glance at the forty-one photo­graphs, it is clear that they focus on a few of the church complexes excavated that season and only hold very few photos of actual finds, apart from architectural, that were found during the excavations. It is important to note that the finds on the photo­g raphs primarily are of late antique, early Islamic, and Middle Islamic date — underlining that activity took place in Gerasa also in these later periods. The finds are too scattered to make an overall conclusion, but they generally align with material groups published by the Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project, which worked in an area not far removed from the church complexes represented in the photo­graphs.12 11 

Stott and others 2018; Lichtenberger, Raja, and Stott 2019. Kalaitzoglou, Lichtenberger, and Raja 2013; 2014; 2015; Kalaitzoglou and others 2012; 2022; Lichtenberger and Raja 2012; 2020c; 2020d; 2021; (forthcoming b); Lichtenberger, Raja, and Sørensen 2013; 2014; 2015. 12 

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery

Figure 5.1. View looking east towards the ‘Cathedral’ on Fountain Court from St. Theodore. Kraeling 1938, 210: ‘Fountain court excavated in 1928, basilica and eastern entrance cleared in 1929, further clearance on north side in 1930. Fountain Court was also the atrium of the Cathedral. Fountain in centre, porticoes on all four sides. Other buildings added and plan radically changed over time. East portico: six Corinthian columns with octagonal bases, late second century. Loftier than porticoes on other three sides: Ionic. Little of these porticoes remains; west demolished when St Theodore built in late fifth century.’

Figure 5.2. Looking across the Fountain Court from the south with the Temple of Artemis visible in the left upper corner of the photo and the Ottoman House to the right in the photo.

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Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja

Figure 5.3. The Fountain Court from south-east.

Figure 5.4. Remains of the shrine to ‘Holy Mary, Michael, Gabriel’ at head of shrine(?). Kraeling 1938, 208: shrine found in the middle of terrace at the top of the steps in front of Cathedral’s east wall. Composed of stones that came from Roman-period buildings. ‘We arranged them against the wall in the hope that the shrine may one day be rebuilt.’ – Centre formed by finely carved shell-headed niche ‘perhaps of Hadrian’s time.’ – Painted in red letters beneath the shell ‘Michael, Holy Mary, Gabriel.’ – Traces of figures in red paint on plain curved surface below (possibly a ground for guilding) – Metal plug in the centre as if for a lamp. – Two side pillars carried a pediment. – One of the pillar drums had a defaced inscription on it. – Coffered ceiling fragment built into north end. – Cannot be earlier than second fourth of the fifth century. – Cult of virgin became popular. Archangels Michael and Gabriel occur together frequently as guardians of towers, doorways, or entrances to churches.

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Figure 5.5. View down the Great Staircase towards the main street, looking east. Negative number: B.34.51, C13.

Figure 5.6. View of stairs from the main street, looking west, with the east end of the Fountain Church or ‘Cathedral’ at top of flight. Negative number: B.34.50, C12. Crowfoot 1931, pl. 1: ‘View of Great Stairs, from E’. Photo by J. Schweig. Crowfoot 1931, Foreword (p. 1) says that Mr Schweig of Jerusalem took part as photo­ grapher in 1929. Crowfoot 1931, 7–8: ‘The great flight of 36 steps (Plate I) which now leads up to the middle level was constructed out of much earlier materials at the same time as the cathedral; this is proved by the character of the masonry on either side of the flight which is like that of the cathedral walls. At the top of the stairs there was a small shrine, botched out of old stones and dedicated to the Virgin and the Archangels Michael and Gabriel, who are the favourite guardians of entrances, both in East and West.’

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Figure 5.7. Forecourt of the Great Propylaea of the Sanctuary of Artemis on the east side of the main street, looking east, with the later church that was built into the propylaea visible most clearly through its apse. Negative number: B.34.33, C133. Kraeling 1938, 227: ‘Some remains of these buildings have always been prominent; in 1812 Burckhardt with his habitual accuracy noted that two groups of three and four columns were standing in the east court or basilica. They are still in position today. A year or two before our arrival Mr Horsfield, when making some clearances in the west court, found a fine Christian mosaic in a circular chamber on the north side. In 1928, we uncovered the mosaic again and Miss Dorothy Crowfoot made a painting of it,

Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja

while Mr Robertson made a sounding in what appeared to be a corresponding chamber on the south side, but without finding another mosaic. In 1929, we spent a few days clearing the apse at the east end of the basilica and a chamber in the northwest corner of the atrium. In 1934, work was resumed with the assistance of Dr Stinespring in and round the chancel of the basilica and two small clearances were made towards the west end of the church. Much, however, remains to be done. The middle of the basilica is still covered with debris, which increases in height near the west wall. In the atrium the north side is fairly clear, but the south half is still buried under a mass of heavy architectural debris, and the outer face of the walls has not been cleared on either side.’

Figure 5.8. The Atrium (= W forecourt) with the church behind it. ARTSTOR: Propylaea Church, general view looking east-south-east. Negative number B.34.34 C134. Negative number: D111. Kraeling 1938, 227: ‘Atrium of Propylaea Church opens on east side of main street immediately in front of Propylaea of the Temple of Artemis.’

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery

Figure 5.9. Room on south side of stairs; the arch’s voussoirs are cut out of old columns.

Figure 5.10. South wall of stairs, view from south to show construction with older stuccoed columns most likely dating to Late Antiquity. Negative number: D112.

Figure 5.11. Looking west across the main street towards the Fountain Church and Court. The Nymphaeum is visible to the right in the photo. Negative number: C21. Crowfoot 1931, pl. IIa: ‘Entrance to Fountain Court Group, from east, with Nymphaeum to north’. Photo by J. Schweig: Crowfoot 1931, Foreword (p. 1) says that Mr Schweig of Jerusalem took part as photo­grapher in 1929. Crowfoot 1931, 6: ‘The heart of Christian Jerash was a group of buildings running along the south side of the old precinct of Artemis and centred round a court with the miraculous fountain in the middle of it. The ruins of this group lie on the west side of the main street, immediately south of the Nymphaeum (plate IIa), and they are the first large group of buildings which the visitor reaches after he has passed the south Tetrapylon.’

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Figure 5.12. General view looking west from near the Church of Procopius in the southeast of Jerash. The Temple of Artemis is prominently visible in the centre of the photo as is its propylaea and remains of the bridge that crossed the Chrysorrhoas. To the left of the Temple of Artemis the Nymphaeum and Cathedral complex are visible. In the foreground houses in the modern village on the eastern side of the river are seen. Negative number: B.34.1, C36.

Figure 5.14. Complex around St. John the Baptist, from northwest looking into common atrium. Church on left = Sts Cosmas and Damianus. Central church with columns = St. John. Church on right = St. George. In the background the Temple of Zeus Olympios is visible. Negative number: B.34.126 C116. Crowfoot 1931, pl. Via: ‘S.  John Baptist’s Group, from N.W.’ Photo by J. Schweig. Crowfoot 1931, Foreword (p. 1) says that Mr  Schweig of Jerusalem took part as photo­grapher in 1929. Crowfoot 1931, 20: ‘This group, as will be seen from the plan, consisted of a central church with a parecclesion on each side, all three opening on a common atrium.’ (Crowfoot 1931, pl. VIa.)

Figure 5.13. Reconstructed lamp. Negative number: D122.

Kraeling 1938, 241: ‘These three churches lie about 150  m. west-northwest of the atrium of St Theodore’s. The site is low, the ground rising on the north and falling away to the south and southwest. The group consists of a “central” church flanked by two parecclesia, basilicas in which the arcades were carried not on columns but on piers. All three buildings opened on a common atrium. Inscriptions show that they were completed between 529 and 533 ad and were dedicated respectively to St John the Baptist, St George, and Sts Cosmas and Damianus. Remains of the central church have never wholly disappeared. In Burckhardt’s time three of the four central columns were still standing; today there are two.’

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Figure 5.15. Church of Sts Cosmas and Damianus to north-west. To the right of the photo the Temple of Zeus Olympios is visible. Looking toward south-east. Cosmas and Damianus, John the Baptist behind. Khrisat and others 2012, 45: ‘Dedicated to martyrs twin brothers Cosmas and Damian, born in Arab-Romanian Province and studied medicine in Syria. Known for free treatment of patients; this encouraged many people to convert to Christianity. Became patrons of Medicine and Pharmacy. Became martyrs during reign of Diocletian c. 305 ad. Church dated to 533 ad, during reign of Bishop Paul Episcopal. Walls between C&D and John the Baptist now restored.’ Figure 5.16. Baptistery between the apses of St. John the Baptist and St. Cosmas. Negative number: B.34.129 C119. Kraeling 1938, 243: ‘On the north side of the apse there was a baptistery which reached to the apse of St Cosmas’. Kraeling 1938, 244: ‘The room north of the apse is arranged in its present form as a baptistery, but originally it was planned as a chapel with a chancel screen running from north to south, the two small flanking chambers being paved with mosaics and lit by windows in the east wall. When it was converted into a baptistery, a font was let into the apse, the screen broken, and a flight of steps built in the south chamber over the mosaics, leading out to a bridge across the street east of this group of buildings through a door where a window had been. The patterned floor of stone and marble was in good condition when we uncovered it.’

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Figure 5.17. Baptistery attached to St. Theodore viewed from above.

Figure 5.19. Columns south of nave in the Cathedral or Fountain Church. Part of an architrave inscription is located centrally in the photo. Negative number: B.34.57, C25.

Figure 5.18. View of Baptistery, to show earlier building. Figure 5.20. Pilaster capital on street north of Propylaea. Early Roman period. Negative number: D110.

5. The Gerasa Archives at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery

Figure 5.21. Capital used in construction of stairs. Early Roman period.

Figure 5.22. Pilaster capital from anta in front of the Great Stairs. Most likely second century ad.

Figure 5.23. Byzantine capital retrieved from the east wall of the ‘Cathedral’.

Figure 5.24. Byzantine capital from the east wall of the ‘Cathedral’.

Figure 5.25. Keystone from the arch, which spanned the top of the flight of stairs. Negative number: H.34.8, C29.

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Figure 5.26. Architectural elements found in clearing St. Theodore.

Figure 5.27. Stones found in clearing stairs.

Figure 5.28. North support of Shrine of B. V. M. at top of stairs; originally part of a ceiling block.

Figure 5.29. Stones from architrave over the stairs, resting on the columns still in fountain.

Figure 5.30. Doorway of room on south side of stairs to show the size of the stones.

Figure 5.31. Base of anta at the south of stairs.

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Figure 5.32. Glass found in 1929. Negative number: B.34.210, C68. Figure 5.33. Wheel-made pottery found in 1929. Seventh–eighth centuries ad. Jug at right is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.686) [accessed 21 May 2022]. Two-handled jar is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.688) [accessed 21 May 2022].

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Figure 5.34. Pottery found in 1929. Seventh–eighth centuries ad.

Figure 5.35. Handmade pottery found in 1929. Middle Islamic vessels.

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Figure 5.36. Lamps found in 1929, so-called ‘Jerash Lamps’ and early Islamic lamps.

Figure 5.37. Stone ware found in 1929. Negative number: D113. Object in lower right is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.568) [accessed 21 May 2022]. Object at top centre is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.569) [accessed 21 May 2022]. Object in lower centre is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.567) [accessed 21 May 2022].

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Lisa Brody and Rubina Raja Figure 5.38. Bronzes found in 1929. Negative number: D109. Bowl fragment is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.585) [accessed 21 May 2022]. Mortar and pestle are in the Yale Uni­ver­ sity Art Gallery collection (1929.577a-b) [accessed 21 May 2022]. Cross is in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery collection (1929.576) [accessed 21 May 2022].

Figure 5.39. Stucco head found north of stairs in 1929. Roman period.

Figure 5.40. Various stone fragments found in 1929. Negative number: B.34.216, C74.

Figure 5.41. Jewellery found in 1929. All except top bracelet on stairs. Top bracelet in debris from St. Theodore. Negative number: B34.215, C73.

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The photo­graphs underline that although these were taken at what must be assumed to have been the end of the 1929 campaign (when the excavation itself was over and everything had been cleaned up and prepared for publication photos), they hold important knowledge about the complexes in question and also include architectural fragments and other finds, which stem from both earlier and later periods than those of the church complexes, bringing to the forefront that there are new insights to be gained from trawling through the archival material in a detailed manner. In particular, the Romanperiod architectural fragments, the stucco head, and early Islamic and Middle Islamic ceramics are of interest for the contextualization of the site within its longue durée history. Another set of fifteen black and white photo­g raphs gives insight into the surveying work done by the mission in other parts of the site and its hinterland. They include photos taken at Ajlun Castle, the village of Suf, and the northern parts of Gerasa on its outskirts, at the so-called Spring of Ain Kerawan, where monumental parts of a Roman-period podium are still in place, but today built into the modern water station in Jerash with the spring still giving water to the population of Jerash.13

13 

Lichtenberger and Raja 2016; 2017; 2019b.

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Figure 5.42. View of Ajlun Castle (B467).

Figure 5.43. View of the main entrance to Ajlun Castle (B468).

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Figure 5.44. View of one of the inner halls of Ajlun Castle (B469). Figure 5.45. View of one of the upper levels of Ajlun Castle (B470).

Figure 5.47. View of Ajlun Castle from below the glacier with a view of the rough bossed lower courses of one wall corner (B472).

Figure 5.46. View of the entrance tower of Ajlun Castle (B471).

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Figure 5.48. View of Ajlun Castle from below the glacier (B473).

Figure 5.49. View of the monumental podium at Ain Kerawan, which today is built into the modern water pumping station in Jerash (B477).

Figure 5.50. View of the exterior of the mosque in Suf (B482).

Figure 5.51. View of the interior of the mosque in Suf (B483).

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Figure 5.52. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque (B484).

Figure 5.53. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque (B485).

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Figure 5.54. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque (B486).

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Figure 5.55. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque (B487).

Conclusion

Figure 5.56. View of Roman-period column with inscription in the mosque (B488).

The archive will take digital shape immediately upon the project’s initiation, and it will be made available online as open data. The archive will be made available as a series of PDFs under a CC-BY 4.0 licence on Figshare (structure to be determined upon a deeper investigation of the archive), an established international repository for archaeo­logical data. Figshare will serve as the permanent home for the digital archive. The platform allows for data to be categorized and include keywords for better searchability and is beneficial as a repository as it is dynamic: data owners can continually add and update information. Furthermore, a set of scholarly publications will be produced to situate the material within the framework of earlier and ongoing research on and at the site. In this way, the material will be brought to the attention of a broad group of scholars interested both in the site itself, in the region, and in issues of archival archaeo­logy.

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Works Cited Alexaki, I. 2017. ‘Modelling Ancient Gerasa in Three Dimensions’, in A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds), Gerasa/Jerash: From the Urban Periphery (Aarhus: AUTRYK), pp. 47–51. Bobou, O., A. C. Miranda, and R. Raja. 2021. ‘The Ingholt Archive: Data from the Project “Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives”’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 6 . Brody, L. R. 2012. ‘Gerasa’, in H. C. Evans (ed.), Byzantium and Islam: Age of Transition (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art), p. 11. Crowfoot, J. W. 1931. Churches at Jerash: A Preliminary Report of the Joint Yale-British School Expeditions to Jerash, 1928–1930, British School of Archaeo­logy in Jerusalem Supplementary Papers, 3 (London: Clowes). Kalaitzoglou, G., A.  Lichtenberger, and R.  Raja. 2013. ‘Preliminary Report of the Second Season of the Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project 2012’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 57: 57–79. —— . 2014. ‘The Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project 2013: Preliminary Field Report’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 58: 11–37. —— . 2015. ‘Preliminary Report of the Fourth Season of the Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project 2014’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 59: 11–43. Kalaitzoglou, G. and others. 2012. ‘Report on a Geophysical Prospection of the Northwest Quarter of Gerasa/Jerash 2011’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 56: 79–88. Kalaitzoglou, G. and others. 2022. ‘Preliminary Report of the Fifth Season of the Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project 2015’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 60. Khrisat, B., C. Hamarneh, and A. Majeed Mjalli. 2012. ‘Comprehensive Approach for the Conservation of the Mosaic Floor of the Saints Cosmas and Damian Church of Jerash Greco-Roman City’, Mediterranean Archaeo­logy and Archaeometry, 12.1: 43–61. Kraeling, C. H. 1938. Gerasa, City of the Decapolis: An Account Embodying the Record of a Joint Excavation Conducted by Yale Uni­ ver­sity and the British School of Archaeo­logy in Jerusalem (1928–1930), and Yale Uni­ver­sity and the American Schools of Oriental Research (New Haven: American Schools of Oriental Research). Lichtenberger, A. 2003. Kulte und Kultur der Dekapolis: Untersuchungen zu numismatischen, archäo­logischen und epi­graphischen Zeugnissen (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz). Lichtenberger, A. and R.  Raja. 2012. ‘Preliminary Report of the First Season of the Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project 2011’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 56: 231–40. —— . 2016. ‘Living with and on the River-Side: The Example of Roman Antiochia-on-the-Chrysorrhoas-Formerly-Called-Gerasa’, in J. Kuhlmann Madsen, N. O. Andersen, and I. Thuesen (eds), Water of Life: Festschrift for Peder Mortensen, Proceedings of the Danish Institute in Damascus, 11 (Copenhagen: Orbis), pp. 98–117. —— . 2017. ‘Water Management in the North-West Quarter of Gerasa/Jerash’, in A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds), Gerasa/Jerash: From the Urban Periphery (Aarhus: AUTRYK), pp. 121–29. —— (eds). 2018a. The Archaeo­logy and History of Jerash: 110 Years of Excavations, Jerash Papers, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— . 2018b. Middle Islamic Jerash (9th Century – 15th Century): Archaeo­logy and History of an Ayyubid-Mamluk Settlement, Jerash Papers, 3 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— . 2018c. ‘The Archaeo­logy and History of Jerash: 110 Years of Excavations – An Introduction’, A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds), The Archaeo­logy and History of Jerash: 110 Years of Excavations, Jerash Papers, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 1–7. —— (eds). 2019a. The Byzantine and Umayyad Periods in Jerash Reconsidered: Transitions, Transformations, Continuities, Jerash Papers, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— . 2019b. ‘The Management of Water Resources over Time in Semi-arid Regions: The Case of Gerasa/Jerash in Jordan’, WIREs Water, 7 (e1403) . —— (eds). 2020a. Hellenistic and Roman Gerasa: The Archaeo­logy and History of a Decapolis City, Jerash Papers, 5 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— . 2020b. ‘Late Hellenistic and Roman Antiochia on the Chrysorrhoas, also Called Gerasa: A  Reappreciation of the Urban Development in the Light of the Findings of the Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project (2011–17)’, in A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds), Hellenistic and Roman Gerasa: The Archaeo­logy and History of a Decapolis City, Jerash Papers, 5 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 7–54. —— (eds). 2020c. Environmental Studies, Remote Sensing, and Modelling: The Final Publications from the Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project, i, Jerash Papers, 6 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— (eds). 2020d. Metal Finds and Coins: Final Publications from the Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project, ii, Jerash Papers, 7 (Turnhout: Brepols).

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—— (eds). 2021. Glass, Lamps, and Jerash Bowls: Final Publications from the Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project, Jerash Papers, 8 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— (forthcoming a). ‘By the Gold River: Gerasa through the Eyes of 19th and Early 20th Century Visitors’, in The Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project: Final Publications, iv, Jerash Papers, 2 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— (eds) (forthcoming b). The Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project: Final Publications, iv, Jerash Papers, 2 (Turnhout: Brepols). Lichtenberger, A., R. Raja, and A. H. Sørensen. 2013. ‘Preliminary Registration Report of the Second Season of the Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project 2012’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 57: 9–56. —— . 2014. ‘The Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project 2013: Preliminary Registration Report’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 58: 39–103. —— . 2015. ‘Preliminary Registration Report of the Fourth Season of the Danish-German Jerash North-West Quarter Project 2014’, Annual of the Department of Antiquities of Jordan, 59: 45–131. Lichtenberger, A., R. Raja, and D. Stott. 2019. ‘Mapping Gerasa: A New and Precise Map of the Site’, Antiquity Project Gallery, 93.367: e7 . Miranda, A.  C. and R.  Raja. 2021. ‘Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives: A Case Study in the Accessibility and Potential of Archives’, Antiquity, 96.385: 1–9 . ——— (forthcoming). ‘Considerations in Archive Archaeo­logy: Past and Present Colonialism in the Study of Palmyra’s Archaeo­logy and History’, American Journal of Archaeo­logy. Mortensen, E. 2017. ‘Archive Archaeo­logy: Rediscovering Jerash in the Digital Archives’, in A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds), Gerasa/Jerash: From the Urban Periphery (Aarhus: AUTRYK), pp. 27–31. ———. 2018. ‘The Early Research History of Jerash: A Short Outline’, in A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds), The Archaeo­logy and History of Jerash: 110 Years of Excavations, Jerash Papers, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 167–86. Raja, R. 2012. Urban Development and Regional Identity in the Eastern Roman Provinces, 50 bc–ad 250: Aphrodisias, Ephesos, Athens, Gerasa (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press). Raja, R. and J. Steding. 2021. ‘Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries from his Fieldwork in Palmyra: An Open Data Online Resource’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 8 . Schumacher, G. 1902. ‘Dscherasch’, Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins, 25: 109–77. Seetzen, U. J. 1854. Reisen durch Syrien, Palästina, Phönicien, die Transjordan-Länder, Arabia Petraea und Unter-Aegypten (Berlin: Reimer). Stinespring, W.  F. 1938. ‘The History of Excavation at Jerash’, in C.  H. Kraeling (ed.), Gerasa, City of the Decapolis: An Account Embodying the Record of a Joint Excavation Conducted by Yale Uni­ver­sity and the British School of Archaeo­logy in Jerusalem (1928–1930), and Yale Uni­ver­sity and the American Schools of Oriental Research (New Haven: American Schools of Oriental Research), pp. 1–10. Stott, D. and others. 2018. ‘Mapping an Ancient City with a Century of Remotely Sensed Data’, Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 115.24: E5450–E5458 . Wilkinson, M. D. and others. 2016. ‘The FAIR Guiding Principles for Scientific Data Management and Stewardship’, Scientific Data, 3: 160018 .

6. Harald Ingholt’s Fieldwork Diaries: Legacy Data of the Early Twentieth Century Rubina Raja and Julia Steding Centre for Urban Network Evolutions, Aarhus Uni­ver­sity To take notes at an excavation is in itself an art to be learnt. It is not easy to write a description that shall omit nothing of importance and be intelligible to another person or to the writer himself six months afterwards when the context has faded from his mind. […] They should err in the direction of fullness rather than concision, and it is well to remember that rough sketches and plans are often worth more than a good many words.1

T

his quote by John Percival Droop neatly illustrates the potential as well as the pitfalls of excavation notes written by archaeo­logists. The Danish archaeo­ logist Harald Ingholt’s (1896–1985) excavation diaries from Palmyra during the 1920s are a paragon of both. On the one hand, it is difficult to understand many of the annotations Ingholt made. He neither provides notes on the context of archaeo­logical finds nor does he situate daily anecdotes within the larger scope of events. On the other hand, the diaries are full of information on Palmyra’s south-west necropolis (including numerous sketches of graves and finds) and the excavation life during the early twentieth century. Palmyra, its archaeo­logy and history, has stood at the centre of numerous publications over the last hundred years.2 Much of the research on Palmyra, its society, and the remains from the Hellenistic to the Umayyad period has been based on excavation results and field surveys in and around the city that regularly took place since the late nineteenth century.3 Among the scholars undertaking archaeo­logical fieldwork at the site during the period when large-scale archaeo­logical missions began was Ingholt, who conducted multiple excavation campaigns during the French Mandate in Syria.4 His active fieldwork engagement in Palmyra started in the 1920s when he excavated around eighty tombs in the south-west necropolis. During the campaigns in 1924, 1925, and 1928 he kept fieldwork diaries that have recently been 1 

Droop 1915, 27. Raja 2022 for an overview of research undertaken at Palmyra. 3  For the research history of Palmyra, see e.g. Sartre-Fauriat 2019 with further references. See also Sommer 2018, Chapter 1. 4  For Harald Ingholt and his work in Palmyra, see Raja and Sørensen 2015a; 2015b; Raja 2019a; 2019b; 2021a; Bobou and others (forthcoming). 2 

published.5 In 1936, he returned to Palmyra for followup research and also excavated the hypogeum of Malkû, but no diaries from his time have been found.6 Even before the 1920s, Ingholt had begun to compile a paper archive of Palmyrene portraits that provided the basis for his higher doctoral dissertation at the Uni­ver­ sity of Copenhagen on the Palmyrene sculptures, which he published in 1928. 7 Fifty-five years later, in 1983, Ingholt donated his paper archive and six excavation diaries to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen, as he had maintained a close relationship with the museum and its staff since his time as a curator of the collection (1925–1930).8 The excavation diaries document Ingholt’s three field campaigns in the 1920s. They constitute an essential and unique research resource on Palmyrene archaeo­logy and have recently been made available both in print as well as open data, thereby freely accessible to all.9 This chapter revolves around the content of the diaries, the historio­g raphical context in which they were written, the considerations made when preparing them for publication, and a discussion of the research potential they hold.

5 

Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021. Ingholt 1935; 1966; 1970–1971; Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 19, 22. 7  Ingholt 1928. For a translated and commented version see Bobou and others 2021. See also chapters 7 and 8 in this volume. 8  For the archive see Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021; (forth­ coming); Bobou and others 2022. The archive is published in the framework of the project Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives; see [accessed 21 May 2022]. 9  ; Raja and Steding 2021. 6 

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 83–100 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130474

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Researching Legacy Data in the Twenty-First Century In recent years, fieldwork in the Middle East has largely come to a halt due to the political instability and ongoing conflicts in several countries in the region. Archaeo­logists have been forced to seek alternative research methods that do not depend on being able to carry out fieldwork.10 Therefore, excavation notes, archives, maps, and photo­g raphic material from past excavations and research projects have suddenly gone from being ‘nice to have’ to ‘must have’ and have become essential tools for research in a short time. Datasets and archives that have not been fully utilized in the past decades are now being explored, enriching various Figure 6.1. Ingholt with reliefs from the tomb of Malkû (© Rubina Raja and research projects. Due to extensive the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Mary Ebba Underdown). excavations during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries that often lack (final) publicathousand portraits is now the largest corpus of funertions, there is an immense amount of information that ary sculpture from outside the city of Rome. Based on is not accessible to researchers but only exists in the the large number of portraits, intensive studies of the shape of excavation notes and material which have not Palmyrene funerary portraits were possible, also reaching been processed. As researchers are, now more than ever, beyond the art-historical and icono­graphical approach.13 dependent on such information, it is crucial that excavaThe Ingholt material, consisting of the extensive paper tion and research results are available. archive and the diaries, was digitized and researched With the beginning of the civil war in Syria in 2011, as part of the project. The paper archive, researched Palmyra was one such site at which archaeo­logical fieldwithin the project ‘Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and work was interrupted. Destructions and looting of Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Palmyrene monuments, graves, and the museum made Ingholt’s Digital Archives’, held an impressive number worldwide news.11 A good example of other ways of conof published and unpublished portraits. A few of these ducting research, in a time when a site is not accessible, reliefs stem from the excavations Ingholt conducted is the research undertaken within the Palmyra Portrait and he cross-referenced to the correlating diary page Project (2012–2020).12 The project collected all funeron the archive sheets.14 The archive and the diaries are ary portraits from Palmyra, stemming from the first to the third centuries ad. This group of approximately four 10  See Raja 2016; Michel in this volume; Miranda and Raja in this volume. 11  For the situation and destructions in Palmyra since 2011, see Cheikhmous 2013; 2015; Cuneo 2015; Cuneo and others 2015; Danti 2015; Jeffries 2015. 12   [accessed 15 November 2021]. For other projects focusing on cultural heritage sites in the Near East see e.g. the Syrian Heritage Archive () and the Hatra-Italian Archaeo­logical Mission () [accessed 25 November 2021].

13  For some recent research outcomes based on the Palmyrene material see e.g. Raja, Bobou, and Romanowska 2021; Romanowska, Bobou, and Raja 2021; Raja and Seland 2022. For a full list of the project’s publications see [ac­ cessed 26 November 2021] and [accessed 26 November 2021]. 14  For an example see Ingholt Archive sheet PS 646, on which Ingholt noted ‘I, 1924, p. 103 og 130’. This is a cross-reference to diary 1 from 1924, where the seated female who is depicted on the photo from the archive, is described on p. 103 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 303).

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Figure 6.2. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 3 (1925, p. 43): ground plan of hypogeum U (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

Figure 6.3. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 1 (1924, p. 104): reference to the inscription’s publication in the journal Berytus (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

now accessible online via the Figshare platform and give researchers and the public access to the material.15

tioned briefly, but numerous of them are described in detail. Diaries 1, 2, and 4 focus on the fieldwork in 1924, 1925, and 1928, respectively. Ingholt used diary 3 as an inventory, to sketch the ground plans of several hypogea (Fig. 6.2), including some wall measurements and the number of loculi. At the end of diary 3, Ingholt noted the distance of tombs to each other and the orientations of the tombs’ entrances towards the magnetic north. The information from the diaries, together with a map that Ingholt drew and that was found alongside the diaries, allow us to locate many of the tombs in the south-west necropolis. This research has recently led to the creation of an updated map of the south-west necropolis, including multiple unpublished graves, many of them with their ground plans.17 The fifth diary is a concordance of all the tombs, mainly repeating the information from earlier diaries in the form of a summary of all discoveries. Ingholt regularly revised and added information to the diaries. Some of the notes he added are cross-refer-

Publishing Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries In the 1920s, the Danish archaeo­logist Harald Ingholt conducted his first field campaigns in Palmyra. In 1924, 1925, and 1928 he excavated hypogea in the south-west necropolis (Fig. 6.1). Five diaries (the sixth diary served as a draft for diary  1) stem from this period, documenting around eighty tombs and their inscriptions, structure, decoration, and portraiture.16 Some of the graves are only men15  For the archive see . For the diaries see . For a discussion on open data see e.g. Lake 2012; Marwick and others 2017. The second article mainly focuses on open data in the form of datasets but a lot of the arguments can be applied to materials like Ingholt’s excavation diaries and his paper archive. 16  All diaries are published in a transcribed, translated, and commented version in Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021.

17 

Raja, Schnädelbach, and Steding (forthcoming).

Rubina Raja and Julia Steding

86 ences between the diaries that must have been added in later years; either when he returned to a tomb during one of the following campaigns or when he went over his notes and pieced the information together.18 But even in the years after the excavations, Ingholt revisited the diaries. In red pen, notes and corrections are added to the pages. One example is the correction of an inscription from tomb no.  106. First transcribed in 1925, Ingholt later revisited his notes and added lines, single letters, and words to the text.19 Exactly from when these notes date is unclear, but many refer to publications by Ingholt. Whenever he published the inscriptions (and other information) from a tomb, Ingholt noted the journal, year, and page numbers of the diary page (Fig. 6.3).20 The notes have thus probably been added around the date of publication, mainly in the 1930s. Many of Ingholt’s excavation results were published in the journal Berytus, which he founded in 1934.21 He then returned to fieldwork in Palmyra in 1935 and 1937.22 In 1983, the large paper archive was donated to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Most likely, the diaries entered the museum at the same time.23 The diaries were scanned alongside the archive in 2012 when Rubina Raja initiated the Palmyra Portrait Project at Aarhus Uni­ver­sity, funded by the Carlsberg Foundation. The scans, all in high resolution, are the basis for the 2021 diary publication.24 Every page was transcribed, and the Danish was translated into English. Notes in other languages, such as English, French, and German, were colourcoded. The commentary consists of references to published inscriptions, objects, and tombs, translation of uncommon or unknown phrases, and cross-references 18 

For an example see diary 1, p. 29 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 155). Here, Ingholt added the reference to p. 129 in the same diary, which he must have done when revisiting the tomb and adding more information on it to his diary further into the campaign. 19  Diary 2, p. 9 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 519). 20  For an example see the tomb of Seleukos, first excavated in 1924 (diary 1, pp. 129–30; Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 357) and again in 1925 (diary 2, p. 11; Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 523). In 1925 Ingholt transcribed the founder inscription which was then published in the journal Berytus (1938, 103–06), as we learn from the addition in red pen to diary page 11 in diary 2 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 523). 21  Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 23; Bobou and others (forth­ coming). 22  Raja and Sørensen 2015, 19b. 23  Raja 2021a, 28. 24  For the publication and availability of the diaries as open data, see also Raja and Steding 2021.

to other diaries. Furthermore, a list of publications that Ingholt frequently referred to is included to facilitate future research, as well as concordances to the mentioned graves, published and unpublished inscriptions. Numerous photos relating to Ingholt’s work and life, the excavations in Palmyra, the findings, and his travels in the Near East are included, to illustrate his journeys and contributions to Near Eastern archaeo­logy in general. Naturally, any sort of transcription and translation can hold some interpretation since handwriting can be difficult to read, and choices are made when translating. Therefore, the publication provides the original scans alongside the transcription and commentary, so that the interested reader may directly compare the handwriting with the transcription and go directly back to the source material. Thus, there is no dependency on publications that are interpretations of the data and new research can begin with the raw data — without any issues of curation, selection, or presentation of the material.25 Of course, the diaries were curated by Ingholt himself, which is evident in two ways. First, he decided what contexts and details to document and what not to write about. Second, pages, photo­g raphs, and estampages are missing ; whether some of them were removed on purpose at some point in the past or if they were lost during the relocation of the diaries as part of the Ingholt archival material, remains an open question. What, in fact, can be achieved when studying the diaries has already been hinted at earlier in this article (e.g. the updated map of the south-west necropolis). In the following, we showcase the full potential of the diaries, after having discussed the historio­graphical context.

The Historio­graphical Setting: Ingholt, Syria, and the French Mandate The Danish philo­ l ogist Johannes Elith Østrup (1867–1938) visited Palmyra in 1892 and mapped parts of the Syrian desert. During his travels, he also acquired the first few funerary portraits for the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, which today holds one of the largest collections of Palmyerene portraiture outside of Syria. Most of the objects that are in the collection were acquired by Carl Jacobsen (1842–1914) through Julius Løytved, the Danish consul in Beirut. Jacobsen was genuinely interested in understanding the Palmyrene portraits in their 25  For the importance of openly accessible data see Raja and Sindbæk 2021, 12. For Palmyra specifically see also Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021 (especially the section on reuse potential).

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Figure 6.4. Ingholt’s interview in the Danish magazine Ude og Hjemme, 5 May 1929 (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, scanned at the Photo/Media Department, Moesgaard, courtesy of Mary Ebba Underdown).

local setting and as comparanda to Greek and Roman portraits.26 Harald Ingholt’s interest in Palmyra grew out of the extensive collection of Palmyrene funerary sculptures at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen — the world’s largest outside of Syria. In 1925, one year after his first excavation in Palmyra, Ingholt became curator at the Glyptotek.27 He also reported on his work in Syria in the Danish written media, amongst others in the magazine Ude og Hjemme in 1929 (Fig. 6.4). In later years he would excavate another site in the Near East, Hama (Fig. 6.5), which he first had visited in 1930. In the same year, he left his position at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek to move to Lebanon and take up 26 

On the collection history see Nielsen 2019; Raja 2019c; 2021a, 24–26. 27  Sørensen and Raja 2015b, 8; Raja 2019a, 53–55; 2019b, 118–20; 2021a, 24–26.

a position at the American Uni­ver­sity in Beirut.28 Thus, Ingholt’s interest in Syria is not surprising and neither is his collaboration with French scholars during his time in Palmyra, given the French Mandate. In 1924 he collaborated with the French archaeo­logist Maurice Dunand, and in 1925 with the French architect Albert Gabriel.29 Syria was under French Mandate and Ingholt thus worked under a French concession when he excavated in the south-west necropolis. Between World War I and World War II, the Ottoman Empire was divided between Britain and France. The League of Nations mandate system was formalized in 1923; at that point, Syria was 28 

Sørensen and Raja 2015, 23; Raja 2019a, 58; 2019b, 123; 2021a, 32. In later years, Ingholt worked at Aarhus Uni­ver­s ity and Yale Uni­ver­sity. See Sørensen and Raja 2015, 22; Raja 2019b, 129–30; 2021a, 39–43. 29  Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 18, 22.

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Figure 6.5. Excavations in Hama (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Mary Ebba Underdown).

Figure 6.6. Tomb of Barʿa (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project).

under French administration, which also led to the reorganization of the archaeo­logical service.30 The modern village was moved away from the Temple of Bêl (meaning that the people living there were forcefully resettled), and the first restoration projects began after the massive systematic clearing of the site.31 A such, Ingholt worked in Palmyra during a period when Syria was under foreign control and so were the archaeo­logical missions.32 Illicit private digs were, however, ongoing and instead of acknowledging the reasons, namely the possibility to earn money with antiquities when sold to European and American collectors and antiquity dealers, the common opinion was that the locals were unappreciative of

antiquities and incapable of dealing with their heritage.33 The fear was that archaeo­logical remains would be destroyed or lost. At the same time, military personnel, for example, were allowed to keep objects for their private collection.34 The presence of the French military is also evident in the diaries.35 In a publication from 1941, Ingholt wrote that the presence of the French Mounted Camel Corps was a great advantage because they held the Bedouins in check.36 He thus saw the presence of the French (military) as a great advantage to the security of his fieldwork. While much of the archaeo­logical work was funded by the French government at that time, Ingholt’s three field campaigns were funded by the Danish Rask-Ørsted Foundation.37

30 

For an overview of the French Mandate in Syria, see most recently Ouahes 2017. See also Tauber 1994; Grainger 2013. See also Delplace’s elaboration on the archaeo­logical missions launched in the Near East during this period [accessed 12 November 2021]. 31  Sommer 2018, 4; Baird and Kemash 2019, 13; Sartre-Fauriat 2019, 72; Raja 2021a, 28–29. 32  See e.g. Gelin 2002.

33 

Greenhalgh 2016, 281; Ouahes 2017, 50–52. Ouahes 2017, 49. 35  Discussed below. 36  Ingholt 1941, 506. For the presence of nomadic tribes in Syria see also Greenhalgh 2016, 16, 21, 33–35. 37  Ingholt 1935, 13; Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 18, 22. 34 

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Figure 6.7. Ingholt’s sketch of a sarcophagus from the tomb of ‘Atenatan (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

The mandate encouraged large fieldwork projects.38 However, the effort of non-French scholars took a backseat in the news, as it was sometimes not included, for example, as was the case in the French newspaper La Croix. The newspaper claimed a ‘civilizing mission in Syria’, which is problematic in itself, but also did not report on fieldwork undertaken by Ingholt and other non-French scholars.39 At the same time, the Syrian press was critical of the missions undertaken by foreign institutions and feared, rightfully, that antiquities that left the country would not be returned.40 Any kind of fieldwork was thus received controversially from the local (scholarly) community and today’s scholars working 38 

Ouahes 2017, 37. Ouahes 2017, 56. 40  Ouahes 2017, 57–61.

with archival material and antiquities that were transported out of the country from the mandate period, a time of repression, have to acknowledge the background under which these projects were conducted and the objects were relocated.

Research Potential in the Ingholt Diaries Ingholt’s diaries functioned as preparation for his articles, as much of the writing focuses on the grave inscriptions and descriptions of the layout and the interiors. As most of the graves have not been published yet, the diaries have a great research potential and with their publication they are available for scholars focusing on Palmyrene graves. 41 They can add knowledge to the

39 

41 

For the published graves see Ingholt 1932 (hypogeum of

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Figure 6.8. Screenshot of parametric 3D model of the hypogeum of Ḥairan (McAvoy and Raja 2019).

workers, objects he bought on his walks through the city, and the daily life on and around the excavation.42 In the following, the rich information in the diaries will be highlighted. The aim is not to present all data from the diaries but to explore the diaries’ potential based on selected examples. already published graves and complete our picture of the south-west necropolis due to the information on the yet unpublished graves. But the diaries document more than just archaeo­logical information on the hypogea; Ingholt also wrote about daily life in Palmyra: the weather, his Ḥairan; hypogeum of ‘Atenatan); 1935 (hypogeum of ‘Atenatan; hypogeum of J.  A. Male; hypogeum of Malkû; hypogeum of Na ṣ rallat; hypogeum of Bar’a); 1938 (hypogeum of Yar ḥ ai; hypogeum of Seleukos; hypogeum of Lišamš; hypogeum of Abt’Astor); 1966 (hypogeum of Malkû); 1970 (hypogeum of Malkû); 1974 (hypogeum of Bat-Mitrait/ Tomb I; hypogeum of Yarḥibola).

History of the Site Palmyra’s graves have always been subject to grave robbery — ever since right after the fall of the city — when several grave towers were incorporated into the city wall.43 As such, many of the grave descriptions are not reflective of an undisturbed context, but of graves that already had been looted. One example is grave no. 43, which Ingholt first discovered in 1924. In diary 1 (p. 29), he described 42 

See also Raja 2019b, 107–08; 2021a, 24. For examples see Al-As‘ad 2013, 18; Henning 2013, 11 with n. 72; Intagliata 2018, 87–88. 43 

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the grave as ‘plyndret’ (robbed/plundered).44 This helps our interpretation of the descriptions that follow and the preservation of the remains and, at the same time, gives insight into processes of looting in the early twentieth century. It allows us to contextualize the finds and informs us about the fact that evidence is missing, as the grave robbers would have removed objects from the graves. Palmyrene Hypogea The diaries are, first and foremost, a source of information on the Palmyrene hypogea (Fig. 6.6). Ingholt mentions around eighty of them in the diaries and only thirteen have been published so far. Based on the locations and a hand-drawn map from diary 3 it was possible to update the map of the south-west necropolis. It was also possible to add ground plans to most of these tombs, based on the descriptions in diaries 1 and 3 and sketches in diary 5.45 Palmyrene graves, as well as their sculptures and inscriptions, are well researched, but with the diaries, we can enrich this knowledge. The interior decoration is mainly known in the form of the funerary reliefs.46 Ingholt also published extensively on the Palmyrene portraits. 47 However, many of the reliefs in the tombs have not been published or have been removed from their original context and can possibly be recontextualized on the basis of the diaries. Ingholt described the portraits in detail and, in some cases, even sketched the reliefs. One example is the drawing of a sarcophagus from the hypogeum of ʿAtenatan (Fig. 6.7). Another form of interior decoration are wall paintings. When present, Ingholt described these paintings and studying all the evidence from the diaries will lead to better insight into Palmyrene tomb decorations.48 Thanks to detailed descriptions and sketches, it is also possible to reconstruct the layout of the tombs, as was mentioned above in relation to the updated map of the 44 

Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 154–55. Raja, Schnädelbach, and Steding (forthcoming). 46  The funerary reliefs have only been partly published. For overviews see e.g. Tanabe 1996; Krag 2018; Raja 2019c. See also the full list of publication by the Palmyra Portrait Project that has published on many of the known portraits ( [accessed 21 May 2022]). 47  See e.g. Ingholt 1928; 1930d; 1934; 1936; 1938; 1966. 48  The wall paintings from the hypogeum of Ḥ airan and the hypogeum of the Three Brothers have been, based on the diaries and the archive, published by Sørensen (2016, 107–13). 45 

Figure 6.9. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 4 (1928, p. 28): drawings of tesserae that Ingholt saw in the Collection of Dandurin (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

south-west necropolis. When combining sketches and information given in the diaries with archival photos, paintings, inscriptions, and sculptures, it is even possible to create a 3D model of a tomb. In 2020, an interactive web-based digital model of the hypogeum of Ḥairan was published (Fig. 6.8).49 These are just selected examples that show how much information can be drawn from the diaries and what results can be achieved when (1) studying the unpublished tombs and sculptures from the diaries and (2) combining existing information with the new data from the diaries. Small Finds Ingholt also described smaller finds that he or his workers made, objects that he saw outside the excavation, and objects that he purchased. Throughout the diaries, Ingholt mentions lamps, bowls, glass objects, coins, 49 

Bobou and others 2020. See Raja and McAvoy 2019 for the model in Sketchfab.

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on the publication of the find.54 In 1930, Ingholt had already published the tessera in a journal,55 but no note of that is found in the diary, most likely because it was only a preliminary publication of some recently found objects. Through the documentation in the diaries, it will be possible to contextualize some findings that have since been added to private and museum collections. Often the in-situ context is not known, but the objects’ provenance can be specified. Epi­graphy

Figure 6.10. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 2 (1925, p. 21): inscriptions from the hypogeum of Nasrallat, later published in PAT (0056) (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

masks, pottery, and tesserae. Ingholt found the tesserae of particular interest and he often bought the small tokens from the locals (Fig. 6.9).50 In 1955, Ingholt published the corpus of all known tesserae, together with Henri Seyrig and Jean Starcky.51 Likely all the tesserae that Ingholt had found or bought during his field campaigns are in that publication. Most of them, either bought by Ingholt or found during the excavations, are now in the collection of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen.52 One example is RTP 302b, a tessera with an inscription and a depiction of Nebu.53 In the diaries, ‘RTP’ is added in red pen, next to the transcription of the inscription, meaning that Ingholt must have revisited the diaries in the 1950s to add a note 50 

For an example see diary 1, p. 79 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 255). 51  Ingholt, Seyrig, and Starcky 1955. 52   See Raja 2021a, 27, 58–59. For the tesserae in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek see Raja 2019c, 361–464. 53  Diary 2, p. 52 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 605); Ingholt, Seyrig, and Starcky 1955, 42; Raja 2019c, 446, cat. no. 216.

Countless diary pages are dedicated to inscriptions (Fig. 6.10). Most of these are founder inscriptions that are inscribed on a grave’s lintel or funerary inscriptions that are incised or painted on the walls next to funerary portraits or on the actual funerary reliefs. The as of yet unpublished inscriptions give an indication of the tomb’s foundation and period of usage, important knowledge to refine the chrono­log y that scholars have been working with.56 In 2016, epi­graphist Jean-Baptiste Yon published on hypogeum AG.57 From this grave, Ingholt copied an inscription that he first encountered on 10 May 1924.58 It reveals the name of the tomb owner, Julia Aurelia Ḥalapu, and that parts of the tomb were ceded in ad 218. Moreover, due to the many names mentioned in the inscriptions coming from certain graves, it might be possible to expand on the prosopo­g raphical research. Many family trees and relations are already known.59 Still, the newly published inscriptions can most likely help to close gaps in the family trees (in the case of known graves) and contribute new family trees of the Palmyrene elite.

54 

Diary 1, p. 98 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 253). Ingholt 1930e. 56  For the Palmyrene graves in general see Gawlikowski 1970; al-As‘ad and Schmidt-Colinet 2005, 39–52; Henning 2019. For graves in Syria in more general, see De Jong 2017. 57  Yon 2016, 22. 58  Diary 1, p. 91 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 279). 59  Piersimoni 1994; 1995; Krag 2019. In 1974, Ingholt made use of his notes in the diaries and wrote on the tombs I and II; in the case of tomb I, he reconstructed the family relations of the buried individuals in the tomb. 55 

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Excavation Practices Overall, little information on actual excavation practices is provided by Ingholt. He is not outlining his methodo­ logical approach in the diaries but, through the way he documented the tombs, it is evident that his focus was on the inscriptions that can be found on the door lintel and inside the graves. Inscriptions are also listed by Ingholt in his later publications as one of the things that were achievable to find and document during excavations campaigns, together with sculptures and frescos.60 It is obvious that Ingholt had his workers searching for portals but how they, in the first Figure 6.11. Ingholt by the tomb of Malkû (© Rubina Raja and the instance, started searching in Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Mary Ebba Underdown). certain places is not clear.61 If a portal was found, it was uncovered. If and how this was sible to excavate a tomb from the entrance and Ingholt recorded and which excavation techniques were used is did not seem to have then excavated such a tomb any furalso largely unclear from the diaries. Some sort of strati­ ther. However, in 1937, when the tomb of Malkû was graphy must have been documented; Ingholt points out revisited, Ingholt and his workers excavated through the how deep they had to dig to reach the upper limestone ceiling and emptied the tomb of earth and sand.65 The 62 blocks of a grave in his later publications. This informareason the tomb was not excavated earlier was due to the tion cannot be found in the diaries and must have been limited number of available workers, a difficulty which documented elsewhere; whereas the size of inscriptions was resolved in the campaigns of the 1930s.66 Despite is noted down thoroughly in the diaries. One example the change of approach to excavating the tombs with colis the hypogeum of Malkû. When first found in 1924 lapsed ceilings, the exact techniques deployed by Ingholt (even though not excavated at this point; see below), and his workers cannot be gathered from the diaries.67 the size of the lintel was documented as 59  ×  29  cm. The inscribed surface was 47  ×  17.5  ×  0.03  cm large Organization of the Work (Fig.  6.11). 63 Information like this can be found for many of the graves. The employment of larger groups of people to excavate Once a grave was accessible, the focus was on the on a single site was highly encouraged by scholars of description of the layout and the sculptural and wall the time. Droop argues that ‘the employment of large decorations.64 If the ceiling had caved in, it was not posgangs of men is more economical and more conductive 60 

Ingholt 1941, 506. Sometimes the local inhabitants would show Ingholt a grave (discussed below). For the finding of graves in Palestine, see Badé 1934, 55–56. See also Droop 1915, 31–33. 62  See for example Ingholt 1938, 13; 1974, 37. 63  Diary 1, p. 38 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 171). 64  The potential of these descriptions has already been high­ 61 

lighted above. 65  Ingholt 1941, 508; 1962, 102; 1966, 457; 1970–1971, 174. 66  Ingholt 1966, 457. 67  For excavation methods in that period and region see Badè 1934, 57–59; For further reading on excavation methods in the early twentieth century see Droop 1915; Woolley 1965 (first edition from 1930).

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documentation.71 On some days, Ingholt specified who was working in which tomb but there is never a complete overview of the day’s work or workers or what specific task they were assigned (Fig. 6.12).72 The morals and ethics of the employed workers loom large in many of the excavation reports of the time. Heinrich Schliemann (1822–1890), a self-taught archaeo­logist who excavated in Turkey between 1871 and 1873, spends quite some pages discussing his workers’ willingness to work. In his publication of the excavations in 1874, which is written in the style Figure 6.12. Workers in Palmyra during excavation of a diary, he complains (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Mary Ebba Underdown). about the workmen, the way they work, and how he to accurate archaeo­logical observations’.68 How these had to regulate their smoking and break times.73 Ingholt large groups were organized in the most efficient way seemed less troubled by his workers. At no point in the is pointed out by archaeo­logists William F. Badé, who diaries does he complain about his workers taking breaks, worked in the Near East around the same time Ingholt working too little, or trying to illegally remove things conducted his fieldwork in Syria. According to him, from the excavation site. He did, however, describe the gangs needed to be formed, and each gang consisted of general mood and personal struggles of workers. On one pickmen, basket-fillers, and carriers. Each gang had a occasion, he describes the workers’ spirit, due to the hot foreman who carried a certain responsibility for the work weather, as ‘ophidsede’ or ‘angry/incited’, thereby suggoing on.69 If Ingholt had his workers organized in a simgesting a tense atmosphere. It follows then that on the ilar way remains unclear, as we learn about most workers same day, one worker was upset that another worker had only through the lists of workers and their pay (discussed taken over his location of work.74 below). One name, however, appears on a regular basis Besides his workers, Ingholt mentioned other in the excavation diaries, and it seems that Ingholt had researchers present in Palmyra. He was accompanied a close connection to a man named Avvar.70 He probby different experts of his time, as was encouraged by ably had a function similar to a foreman, even though scholars that wrote on the perfect way of conducting Ingholt never specified this. Another name that appears research in the field.75 One example is the French archiregularly is Hijjar, who might also have had a special role tect Albert Gabriel, whom Ingholt collaborated with in the excavation that is not specified through Ingholt’s 71 

Hijjar is mentioned regularly from diary 2 onwards. See e.g. diary 1, p. 77 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 251). Ingholt wrote that Hijjar was joined by two men ‘in the tomb with the head’ on 26 April 1924. 73  For an example see Schliemann 1874, 60. 74  Diary 2, p. 49 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 599). 75  See e.g. Bulle 1913, 156. 72 

68 

Droop 1915, 4. See also Woolley 1965, 41. Badé 1934, 19. See also Woolley 1965, 42–43. 70  Avvar is first mentioned in a list with workers at the beginning of diary 1 (p. v) and on the list with all workers at the end of diary 1 (no p. no.). He then appears regularly in all the following diaries. 69 

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during the campaign in 1925 and who is mentioned in the diaries.76 Gabriel was also responsible for the reconstruction work of Palmyra’s Forum.77 Another example of collaborative work is the naming of the Danish architect Charles Christensen, who had painted watercolours of grave murals and monumental buildings.78 Some of his paintings were published with Ingholt’s articles on the Palmyrene graves and illustrate the state of preservation of wall paintings and monuments at the time of their exploration.79 The Workers, Payment, and Workhours According to Ingholt in an article from 1941, it was much cheaper to excavate in the necropolis than in the city. It seems that mainly the number of people was a factor here, and Ingholt says that ten to fifteen men were enough to excavate the ‘humbler looking tomb structures’.80 How many people were employed at the same time is not clear from the diaries. Often only one or two names were written down, indicating in which tomb they worked on that day. At the end of diary 1, multiple pages list workers and their pay (Fig. 6.13).81 The names on the list match the names that we encounter throughout the diaries, but it is also not entirely clear how many people worked for Ingholt during one campaign or over the years as many of the names reappear. They are, however, not always spelled in the same way, which can either mean that Ingholt misspelled their names or that they were indeed two different workers.82 In all diaries, Ingholt kept track of where his workers were excavating or when he had to send some of them home early.83 76 

For a mentioning by Ingholt, see diary 2, p. 7 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 515). See also Raja and Sørensen 2015, 18; Raja 2021a, 28. 77  Ouahes 2017, 56. 78  For a mentioning by Ingholt, see diary 4, p. 11 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 911). See also Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 22; Sørensen 2016, 107; Raja 2021a, 23. 79  An example are the watercolour paintings from the hypogeum of Ḥairan, published in Ingholt 1932. 80  Ingholt 1941, 506. 81  Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 374–87, 390–95. 82  It is also possible that the differences in spelling are based on incorrect transcriptions that can appear when working with handwritten notes. See also Raja 2021b, 9. 83  For an example see diary 4, p. 20 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 929).

Figure 6.13. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 1 (1924, unnumbered page): list of workers and their payment and a fingerprint that proves that they received the money (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

It is unclear how long a workday was; the only indication is the mention of a group of soldiers who began at 6.30 a.m. and a mentioning of a work-start at 6 a.m. in another place of the diary.84 On excavations in Greece, the workers worked from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., with half an hour break for breakfast and 1.5 hours break in the afternoon (two hours in the summer, which then prolonged the working time until 6.30 p.m.).85 The lists from diary 1 hold the workers’ payment, calculated in piasters, which was the currency used in 1920s Syria. Piastres came in coins of ½, 1, 2, 2.5, 5, 1, 25, and 50.86 It seems that the workers got paid nine piasters per day, as most of the amounts Ingholt wrote down are multiples of nine. The payment could be higher though, if the workers handed findings to Ingholt — findings that were most likely unearthed from one of the tombs they 84 

Diary 2, p. 61 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 623); diary 2, p. 4 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 509). 85  Droop 1915, 19. 86  Krause, Mishler, and Bruce 1993, 1780–81.

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96 were working in. However, Ingholt did not specify where these objects are from and as he often also bought findings, like tesserae, when in town, it is not always clear where the objects he paid workers for stemmed from. In his Manual of Excavation in the Near East, Badè formulated a few regulations for the workmen; no. 5 reads as follows: ‘Any person who finds an object of possible value or importance must at once show it to his foreman and indicate the exact find-spot. The finder’s name is then listed for appropriate reward on the weekly paylist.’87 A similar practice can be found in Droop’s book, who talks about giving a tip to workers for the finds they make and hand in — a system that ‘has worked well in Greece’.88 Later on, he added that the excavation leader might as well pay the workmen whatever they would get on the market for an object, to ensure that it would not be stolen by the workers.89 If Ingholt followed this guideline, it is likely that he paid his workers for finds from the graves that were unearthed by the workers, as it was common practice at this time. Often, the names of people that he paid for objects match the names of workers; it is thus likely that the objects are unearthed findings from the tombs. Palmyra in the 1920s The diaries are also a rich resource for historians, often reflecting on daily life. Despite the difficult relationship between the Syrians and the foreign powers in their country during the French Mandate, Ingholt seemed welcome. He even received hints from inhabitants as to where a grave was located.90 Other scholars of the time understood the strong potential of the knowledge that lay with local inhabitants and encouraged communication with the local community.91 Also, not all objects that Ingholt mentions come from the graves he excavated. Occasionally the inhabitants of Palmyra offered him portrait heads (often removed from sarcophagi), tesserae, or other smaller finds. These objects must have been held privately prior to coming into Ingholt’s possession, but he did not seem concerned

87 

Badè 1934, 21–22. For the same procedure see Bulle 1913, 161. Droop 1915, 16. 89  Droop 1915, 73. See also Woolley 1965, 44–45. 90  For an example see diary 2, p. 27 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 554–55). One of Ingholt’s workers, Hijjar, showed him a tomb a little outside of the necropolis. 91  Atkinson 1946, 34. 88 

Figure 6.14. Excerpt from Harald Ingholt’s excavation diary 5 (1928, p. 89a): cross-reference to earlier diaries that discuss hypogeum O (© Rubina Raja and the Palmyra Portrait Project, courtesy of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

with the circumstances that led to the objects’ acquisition and he gladly purchased them. Additionally, the military history of the region is reflected in the diaries through the mentioning of the military presence at the excavation site; in March 1925, for example, Ingholt wrote that soldiers are working in some of the graves on multiple days in a row.92 Also, army trenches are mentioned as a geo­graphical reference to where tombs are located.93 Another interesting line of inquiry is the study of different social groups, the way Ingholt speaks about the workers, how they interacted, and how locals, visitors, and other scholars were perceived. Ingholt described episodes of their daily life on the excavation site and fights on site; one dispute arose between Avvar and Muhammed, two of the workers. Avvar wanted to marry Muhammed’s sister, but the request was declined as the girl was only fifteen years old. Avvar was so upset that he asked Ingholt to terminate Muhammed’s employment.94 More anecdotes like this can be found in the diaries and can help us to understand the dynamics between Ingholt and his workers, hierarchic structures, and how Ingholt was communicating with people from the region. 92  Diary 2, pp.  6, 10, 12, 15 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 513, 521, 525, 531). The soldiers also worked with Ingholt in April, according to diary 2, pp. 61, 70 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 623, 641). 93  Ingholt uses the Danish term ‘skyttegraven’; see also diary 3, p. 82 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 811). 94  Diary 2, p. 12 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 525).

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Lacunae in the Evidence

Conclusion

As with many other archives that have been donated to museums, universities, or other collections, the Ingholt material is not complete. After the archive and diaries entered the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the material was revisited and reorganized. To what extent the diaries were affected by this is unclear, but the paper archive sheets, also discussed in this volume, have been renumbered and reorganized over the years.95 Even though Ingholt was also excavating in Palmyra in the 1930s, no diaries of these campaigns have been found. 96 The diaries from the 1920s excavations all reached the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, alongside loose pages of paper inserted in between pages. However, multiple pages are missing as well. Ingholt often referred to the earlier diaries by cross-referencing them in the later diaries but finding these mentioned pages was not always possible (Fig. 6.14).97 What is also missing are so-called estampages (squeezes) which he frequently refers to, as well as photo­graphs taken in and around the graves.98 The material we study today is also subject to personal decisions made by Ingholt. In the end, he decided what would go in the diaries and what not — in the field and during his research in the years after the excavations. There is a clear focus on the inscriptions and layouts of the hypogea. Ingholt mentioned much of the funerary portraiture as well but it is uncertain if he noted down all of the sculptures. The transcriptions are also subjected to Ingholt’s skills and interpretations. Without the squeezes and photo­g raphs he refers to throughout the diaries, the original inscriptions are unavailable and we need to trust the transcriptions of Ingholt.

When contextualizing Ingholt’s diaries within their historical and geo­g raphic framework, it becomes evident that he largely operated like other excavators of his time. The field manuals of scholars of that time are explicit about how the work should be organized and even if we cannot draw much information on the excavation techniques from Ingholt’s notes, the set-up of the excavation and what Ingholt mainly focused on becomes clear and correlates with what we find in the manuals of the time. When contextualizing the fieldwork within the period of the French Mandate, many of the things make sense, for example, the presence of the military or the visits of other European scholars at the excavation site. This chapter highlighted the rich information coming from Ingholt’s excavation diaries. With their publication, scholars can use the notes from Ingholt for their own research on various topics. As the diaries are scanned and made public, the raw data is available to researchers and a broader public without any form of selection by the authors. Instead of basing research on only the limited previously published works on the excavations that have actually been published, it is now possible to engage with the original documents and through these, obtain new interpretations and understandings. The many different potentials which the diaries hold have been discussed and epi­g raphists, archaeo­logists, and historians can all draw on the archaeo­logical as well as the historical evidence that is preserved in the Ingholt diaries. With their publication, it will be possible to venture into different research areas and explore the excavations and archaeo­logical evidence of Palmyra through the lens of an archaeo­logist who excavated in the Near East in the 1920s and 1930s. Information on the archaeo­logical context, such as the Palmyrene hypogea, their chrono­logy, decoration, and preservation, as well as information on the daily life and excavation life hold a high potential for future research. Overall, this showcases how important it is to (re-)evaluate archival materials and the high potential in studying and publishing old excavation reports. Through open data access, scholars and the public will be able to see the source material, evaluate the information given by Ingholt, and comb the diaries for future research topics.

95 

Miranda and Raja in this volume; see also n. 8. Raja 2021b, 23. 97  For an example see diary 5, p. 89 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 1463), where Ingholt, in relation to grave O, refers to diary 3, pp. 41–42. When consulting diary 3, pp. 38–41 are missing. 98  For an example see diary 2, p. 38 (Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021, 577). Ingholt estamped the inscriptions in the tombs of Bar‘a and Nasrallat. On the same page he mentions photos that were taken of the necropolis and grave no. 108. None of this material has come to light yet. See also Yon 2016, 122. For the importance of squeezes and the study of inscriptions by epi­graphist on site, see Bulle 1913, 156; Droop 1915, 44–45; Magoffin 1930, 89–90. Droop also discussed the use of photo­graphs (1915, 37, 46–50). 96 

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Acknowledgements The authors are grateful to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek for granting the rights to publish the excavation diaries. The authors thank the ALIPH Foundation and Carlsberg Foundation for generously funding respectively Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives (grant held by Rubina Raja, agreement 2019-1267) and the Palmyra Portrait Project (grant held by Rubina Raja, agreement CF15-0493). Since 2012, when the Palmyra Portrait Project was founded by Rubina Raja, several individuals have contributed to the digitalization and study of the material. The authors wish to thank everyone who has participated in and contributed to the projects. Furthermore, this work was supported by the Centre for Urban Network Evolutions (under grant 119) held by Rubina Raja.

Works Cited al-As‘ad, K. and A.  Schmidt-Colinet. 2005. ‘Kulturbegegnung im Grenzbereich’, in A.  Schmidt-Colinet (ed.), Palmyra: Kultur­ begegnung im Grenzbereich, Sonderbände der Antike Welt, Zaberns Bildbände zur Archäo­logie, 3rd edn (Mainz: Von Zabern), pp. 36–64. al-As’ad, W. 2013. ‘Some Tombs Recently Excavated at Palmyra’, Studia Palmyreńskie, 12: 15–24. Atkinson. R. J. C. 1946. Field Archaeo­logy (London: Methuen). Badè, W. F. 1934. A Manual of Excavation in the Near East (Berkeley: Uni­ver­sity of California Press). Baird, J. A. and Z. Kamash. 2019. ‘Remembering Roman Syria: Valuing Tadmor-Palmyra, from “Discovery” to Destruction’, Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, 62: 1–29. Bobou, O. and others. 2020. ‘Archive Archaeo­logy in Palmyra, Syria a New 3D Reconstruction of the Tomb of Ḥairan’, Digital Applications in Archaeo­logy and Cultural Heritage, 19: e00164 . Bobou, O. and others (eds). 2021. Studies on Palmyrene Sculpture: A Translation of Harald Ingholt’s Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur Published 1928 (Turnhout: Brepols). Bobou, O. and others. 2022. ‘Harald Ingholt’s Twentieth-Century Archive of Palmyrene Sculptures: “Unleashing” Archived Archaeo­ logical Material of Modern Conflict Zones’, Journal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeo­logy and Heritage Studies, 10.1: 74–101. Bobou, O. and others (forthcoming). ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyra: Documenting the Oasis City through the Legacy of the Journal Berytus’ Founder’, Berytus. Bobou, O., A. C. Miranda, and R. Raja. 2021. ‘The Ingholt Archive. Data from the Project, “Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives”’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 6, 1–10 . ——— (forthcoming). The Ingholt Archive: The Palmyra Material (Turnhout: Brepols). Bulle, H. 1913. Handbuch der Archäo­logie (Munich: Beck). Cheikhmous, A. 2013. ‘Syrian Heritage under Threat’, Journal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeo­logy and Heritage Studies, 1.4: 351–66 . —— . 2015. ‘Palmyra: Heritage Adrift’, ASOR [accessed 25 November 2021]. Cuneo, A. and others. 2015. ‘The Recapture of Palmyra’, ASOR [accessed 25 November 2021]. Cuneo, A., S. Penacho, and L. Barnes Gordon. 2015. ‘Update on the Situation in Palmyra’, ASOR [accessed 25 November 2021]. Danti, M. and others. 2015. ‘Special Report on the Importance of Palmyra’, ASOR [accessed 25 November 2021].

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Droop, J. P. 1915. Archaeo­logical Excavation (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­sity Press). Gawlikowski, M. 1970. Monuments funéraires de Palmyre, Travaux du Centre d’archéo­logie méditerranéenne de l’Académie polonaise des sciences, 9 (Warsaw: Éditions scientifiques de Po­logne). Gelin, M. 2002. L’archéo­logie en Syrie et au Liban à l’époque du Mandat 1919–1946: histoire et organisation (Paris: Geuthner). Grainger, J. D. 2013. The Battle for Syria, 1918–1920 (Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer). Greenhalgh, M. 2016. Syria’s Monuments: Their Survival and Destruction (Leiden: Brill). Henning, A. 2013. Die Turmgräber von Palmyra: Eine lokale Bauform im kaiserzeitlichen Syrien als Ausdruck kultureller Identität (Rahden: Leidorf ). —— . 2019. ‘Houses of Eternity’, in A. M. Nielsen and R. Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 155–72. Ingholt, H. 1928. Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur (Copenhagen: Reitzel). —— . 1929. ‘Deux inscriptions bilingues palmyréniennes et grecques découvertes à Palmyre’, Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles-lettres, 73.4: 273. —— . 1930a. ‘Fresques découvertes à Palmyre’, Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des inscriptions et belles-lettres, 74.4: 302–03. —— . 1930b. ‘The Oldest Known Grave-Relief from Palmyra’, Acta archaeo­logica, 1: 191–94. —— . 1930c. ‘Paa udgravning i Palmyra’, Tilskueren: Månedsskrift for litteratur, samfundsspørgsmål og almenfattelige videnskabelige skildringer: 336–47. —— . 1930d. ‘Quatre bustes palmyréniens’, Syria, 11.3: 242–44. —— . 1930e. ‘Some Religious Monuments Recently Found in Palmyra’, in Actes du V e Congrès international d’histoire des religions, Lund, 27–29 août 1929 (Lund: Gleerup), pp. 144–48. —— . 1932. ‘Quelques fresques récemment découvertes à Palmyre’, Acta archaeo­logica, 3: 1–20. —— . 1934. ‘Palmyrene Sculptures in Beirut’, Berytus, 1: 32–43. —— . 1935. ‘Five Dated Tombs from Palmyra’, Berytus, 2: 57–120. —— . 1936. ‘Inscriptions and Sculptures from Palmyra’, Berytus, 3: 83–125. —— . 1938. ‘Inscriptions and Sculptures from Palmyra’, Berytus, 5: 93–140. —— . 1941. ‘Tomb in the Syrian Desert’, Asia and the Americas, 42: 506–11. —— . 1962. ‘Palmyrene Inscription from the Tomb of Malkû’, Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph, 38: 101–19. —— . 1966. ‘Some Sculptures from the Tomb of Malkû at Palmyra’, in M. L. Bernhard (ed.), Mélanges offerts à Kazimierz Michalowski (Warsaw: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe), pp. 457–76. —— . 1970–1971. ‘The Sarcophagus of Be’elai and Other Sculptures from the Tomb of Malkû, Palmyra’, Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph, 46: 173–200. —— . 1974. ‘Two Unpublished Tombs from the Southwest Necropolis of Palmyra, Syria’, in D. K. Kouymjian (ed.), Near Eastern Numismatics, Icono­graphy, Epi­graphy and History: Studies in Honor of George C. Miles (Beirut: American Uni­ver­sity of Beirut), pp. 37–54. Ingholt, H. and J. Starcky. 1951. Recueil des inscriptions sémitiques de la Palmyrène du nord-ouest (Paris: Geuthner). Intagliata, E. E. 2018. Palmyra after Zenobia 273–750: An Archaeo­logical and Historical Reappraisal (Oxford: Oxbow). Jeffries, S. 2015. ‘Isis’s Destruction of Palmyra: “The Heart Has Been Ripped out of the City”’, The Guardian, 2 September 2015

[accessed 12 November 2021]. Jong, L. de. 2017. The Archaeo­logy of Death in Roman Syria: Burial, Commemoration, and Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­ sity Press). Krag, S. 2018. Funerary Representations of Palmyrene Women from the First Century bc to the Third century ad, Studies in Classical Archaeo­logy, 3 (Turnhout: Brepols). —— . 2019. ‘Palmyrene Funerary Buildings and Family Burial Patterns’, in S. Krag and R. Raja (eds), Women, Children and Family in Palmyra, Palmyrene Studies, 3 (Copenhagen: The Danish Academy of Science and Letters), pp. 38–66. Krause, C. L., C. Mishler, and C. R. Bruce. 1993. 1993 Standard Catalog of World Coins (Iola: Krause). Kropp, A. and R. Raja. 2014. ‘The Palmyra Portrait Project’, Syria, 91: 393–408. Lake, M. 2012. ‘Open Archaeo­logy’, World Archaeo­logy, 44.4: 471–78 . Magoffin, R. 1930. The Lure and Lore of Archaeo­logy (Baltimore: William & Wilkins). Marwick, B. and others. 2017. ‘Open Science in Archaeo­logy’, SAA Archaeo­logical Record, 17.4: 8–14. Nielsen, A. M. 2019. ‘Palmyra in the Glyptotek’, in A. M. Nielsen and R. Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 23–40. Ouahes, I. 2018. Syria and Lebanon under the French Mandate: Cultural Imperialism and the Workings of Empire (London: Tauris). Piersimoni, P. 1994. ‘New Palmyrene Inscriptions: Onomastics and Prosopo­graphy’, Annali di archeo­logia e storia antica, 53/54: 298–316. —— . 1995. ‘The Palmyrene Prosopo­graphy’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, Uni­ver­sity College London).

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Raja, R. 2015. ‘Palmyrene Funerary Portraits in Context: Portrait Habit between Local Traditions and Imperial Trends’, in J. Fejfer, M. Moltesen, and A. Rathje (eds), Traditions: Transmission of Culture in the Ancient World (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press), pp. 329–61. —— . 2016. ‘The History and Current Situation of World Heritage Sites in Syria: The Case of Palmyra’, in K. Almqvist and L. Belfrage (eds), Cultural Heritage at Risk: The Role of Museums in War and Conflict (Stockholm: Axel and Margaret Ax:son Johnson Foundation), pp. 27–47. —— . 2019a. ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyra’, in A. M. Nielsen and R. Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 41–64. —— . 2019b. ‘Harald Ingholt – og Palmyra, oasen i den syriske ørken’, in E. Mortensen and R. Raja (eds), Store danske arkæo­loger: På jagt efter fortidens byer (Aarhus: Aarhus Universitetsforlag), pp. 105–31. —— . 2019c. The Palmyra Collection: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek). —— . 2021a. ‘“Den smukkeste Kvindebuste, jeg endnu har set”: The Palmyra Excavation Diaries of Harald Ingholt, 1924–1928’, in R. Raja, J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds), Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeology and History, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 23–70. —— . 2021b. ‘Reading the Ingholt Excavation Diaries, and Acknowledgements’, in R. Raja, J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds), Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 7–9. —— . 2022. Pearl of the Desert: A History of Palmyra (Oxford: Oxford Uni­ver­sity Press). Raja, R. and E. H. Seland. 2022. ‘The Paradox of Palmyra. An Ancient Anomalopolis in the Desert’, Journal of Urban Archaeo­logy, 5. Raja, R. and S. Sindbæk. 2021. ‘Dark Sides of the City – Editorial’, Journal of Urban Archaeo­logy, 4: 11–13. Raja, R. and S. McAvoy. 2019. Hypogeum of Ḥairan, Main Reconstruction 3D Model [accessed 21 May 2022]. Raja, R. and A. H. Sørensen. 2015a. ‘The “Beauty” of Palmyra and Qasr Abjad (Palmyra): New Discoveries in the Archive of Harald Ingholt’, Journal of Roman Archaeo­logy, 28: 439–50. —— . 2015b. Harald Ingholt and Palmyra (Aarhus: Aarhus Universitet). Raja, R., J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds). 2021. Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4, 2 vols (Turnhout: Brepols). Raja, R., O. Bobou, and I. Romanowska. 2021. ‘Three Hundred Years of Palmyrene History: Unlocking Archaeo­logical Data for Studying Past Societal Transformations’, PLoS ONE, 16.11 . Raja, R., K. Schnädelbach, and J. Steding (forthcoming). ‘A New Map of Palmyra’s Southwest Necropolis Based on the Excavation Diaries of Harald Ingholt’, Zeitschrift für Orientarchäo­logie. Raja, R. and J. Steding. 2021. ‘Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries from his Fieldwork in Palmyra – an Open Data Online Resource’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 8, 1–9 . Romanowska, I., O. Bobou, and R. Raja. 2021. ‘Reconstructing the Social, Economic and Demo­graphic Trends of Palmyra’s Elite from Funerary Data’, Journal of Archaeo­logical Science, 133: 1–10. Sartre-Fauriat, A. 2019. ‘The Discovery and Reception of Palmyra’, in A.  M. Nielsen and R.  Raja (eds),  The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 65–76. Schliemann, H. 1874.  Trojanische Altertümer: Bericht über die Ausgrabungen in Troja, Cambridge Library Collection (Leipzig: Brockhaus; repr. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­sity Press, 2010). Sommer, M. 2018. Palmyra: A History (Abingdon: Routledge). Sørensen, A. H. 2016. ‘Palmyrene Tomb Paintings in Context’, in A. Kropp and R. Raja (eds), The World of Palmyra, Palmyrene Studies, 1 (Viborg: Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab), pp. 103–17. Tanabe, K. 1986. Sculptures of Palmyra, i (Tokyo: Ancient Orient Museum). Tauber, E. 1994. The Formation of Modern Iraq and Syria (London: Routledge). Woolley, L. 1965. Digging up the Past (Harmondsworth: Penguin). Yon, J.-B. 2016. ‘Inscriptions from the Necropolis of Palmyra in the Diaries of H. Ingholt’, in A. Kropp and R. Raja (eds), The World of Palmyra, Palmyrene Studies, 1 (Viborg: Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab), pp. 118–25.

7. The Ingholt Archive: The Impact of Archives on Palmyrene Studies and Syrian Cultural Heritage Preservation Amy Miranda and Rubina Raja Centre for Urban Network Evolutions (UrbNet), Aarhus Uni­ver­sity

Introduction Since March 2011, the Syrian people and their cultural heritage have been victims of a devastating civil war with the city of Palmyra as a central focus for both ISIS and the Syrian government and ensuing looting of the site having been undertaken at various points in time by various groups and individuals. The city’s ancient art and architecture, and its systematic destruction, have become emblematic for the immense suffering in Syria and there is to this day no overview of the damage done to the site.1 Although the sheer quantity of loss is yet to be determined due to the ongoing nature of the conflict, it is clear that artefacts have been destroyed or gone missing.2 However, looting and destruction are not exclusive to the current situation. Palmyrene culture was under threat prior to the Syrian civil war, but also historically, with the vandalism of the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries. Even in ancient times Palmyrene culture was under attack, for example, the Roman sack of Palmyra in ad 273. Such consistent attempts throughout history to erase Palmyrene culture create gaps in knowledge that scholars are working to recover. Classical archaeo­logy and cultural heritage preservation are two disciplines poised to aid in preserving and sharing Syrian heritage. However, these fields are not without complexity and come with their own inherent trajectories and historio­ graphies, which must be taken into consideration as well. Nonetheless, one way that these disciplines might deepen both scholarly and public knowledge of Palmyra is to facilitate successful campaigns for heritage preservation and dissemination through the use of archival material. The field of classical archaeo­logy has been slow to adopt the use of archives in research, often overlooking essential information housed in such material as 1  For an overview of Palmyra’s recent history, see Greenhalgh (2016). See also Raja 2022. 2  For an example of looted antiquities, see [accessed 7 July 2021].

fieldwork has traditionally taken precedence.3 Classical archaeo­logy generates massive quantities of material in short periods of time — even just a single field season — creating vast archives. The rate at which archives are created and the diverse and often unstructured information which they hold make overlooking materials rather easy and as such, data can go unpublished. Often, classical archaeo­logists will publish representative finds rather than all their data, though the cost of publication can contribute to this practice as funds are limited. It is clear that the review of data amassed in archives is essential to the field. Classical archaeo­logists might consider whether excavating new material is as important to progressing research as is assessing the already existing mountains of data. Processing old data is one response archaeo­logists can have to the early excavation methods of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The large excavations of the Middle East that began in the late nineteenth century — the German excavation of Baalbek, the French excavations of Palmyra, the Anglo-American excavations of Jerash — were not up to today’s standards of documentation. That archaeo­logy’s beginnings did not emphasize full quantification and in context excavation not only means that data might have gone missing or been overlooked, but there was not the systematic publishing strategy that present-day excavations strive for. Thus, these early excavations are in critical need of having their legacy data reviewed and in many cases simply made available to a broader audience. An example of such an archive with a depth of rich information is that of Palmyrene funerary sculpture developed by the Danish archaeo­logist Harald Ingholt (1896–1985).4 Ingholt, a leading scholar in the field of Palmyrene archaeo­logy and history in the twentieth century, gathered the material for his archive (hereafter referred to as the Ingholt Archive) over the span of 3  4 

See Baird this volume. Raja 2019a; 2019c; 2021a; 2021b.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 101–109 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130475

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of 1983 where it resides to this day (Fig.  7.1). The archive contains 2347 sheets documenting Palmyrene art and architecture, though predominantly the city’s funerary sculpture — loculus reliefs, sarcophagi, honorific statues, gravestones, and banqueting reliefs — and is foundational for the study of Palmyrene culture and historio­graphy. Once at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Danish archaeo­logist Gunhild Ploug is known to have worked on the Ingholt Archive. Although she added to Ingholt’s annotations, mostly in the form of notes on small yellow Post-It notes, Ploug never published the material.8 It was not until it was temporarily transferred to Aarhus Uni­ver­sity in 2012 for digitization by the Palmyra Portrait Project (2012–2020) that the archive saw a new phase in its study and reinvigorated reuse potential.9 The Palmyra Portrait Project, directed by Professor Rubina Raja, aimed to collect, catalogue, and research Palmyrene funerary portraiture, the largest corpus of portrait sculpture in the Roman world outside of the city of Rome. 10 This work generated the project Archive Figure 7.1. A thank-you letter to Ingholt from the director of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing © Rubina Raja and courtesy of Mary Ebba Underdown. Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives, which began in 2020 with several objectives pertaining decades, beginning in the 1920s and continuing into the to the enhancement of archaeo­logical and cultural heritmid-to-late 1970s.5 The archive was initiated to facilitate age research in Syria: research on his higher doctoral dissertation Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur published in Danish in 1928, which 1. to publish and make the digital archive accessible became and still remains the standard work on the stylisonline to the public in a searchable form and to tic development of the Palmyrene funerary sculptures.6 publish the excavation diaries including a full assessIngholt donated part of his archive — the Palmyra matement of the graves documented in these rial — to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, in 1981.7 The archive arrived in Copenhagen in the spring 5 

Bobou and others (forthcoming). Ingholt 1928; Bobou and others (eds) 2021 for an English translation and commented edition of the 1928 publication. 7  Additional portions of Ingholt’s archive can be found in other museums or foundations. Part of his archive relating to his research in Hama is located at the National Museum of Denmark, see [accessed 7 July 2021]; part of the archive relating to his Gandharan studies is now at the Getty Research Institute [accessed 7 July 2021] and part is at Yale Uni­ver­sity’s Yale Babylonian collection. 8  Bobou and others (forthcoming). 9  [accessed 21 May 2022]. 10  Kropp and Raja 2014; Raja 2018a; 2018b; 2019b.

7. The Ingholt Archive 2. to assess damages and losses of Palmyrene cultural heritage based on the primary evidence collected in the unpublished archive and the diaries 3. to reconstruct lost and damaged contexts based on the evidence collected in the archive.11 With the forthcoming publication of the archive in print, as e-book, and freely online as open data, Ingholt Archive will be a premier case study for the impact of archival material on Palmyrene studies and classical archaeo­logy. This chapter focuses on the potential of the Ingholt Archive given its accessibility and advocates for its use in the work to preserve and share Syrian cultural heritage. Not only does that archive include a record of hundreds of Palmyrene sculptures thereby expanding and nuancing current scholarly understanding of the city’s art and epi­graphy, but also it is a rich resource for the history of collections and recontextualization of objects. To illustrate the impact that the accessibility of the Ingholt Archive will have upon the fields of Palmyrene studies and cultural heritage preservation, the chapter presents three case studies from the archive. The case studies demonstrate that deep knowledge of archaeo­logical material gained through vigorous archival study brings Palmyra’s history — ancient and modern — into sharp focus, and proves fruitful for its future. The chapter first introduces the long history of devastation in Palmyra before presenting the three case studies. Then, in light of these examples, it discusses the impact of the Ingholt Archive on facilitating Palmyra’s heritage preservation and restitution efforts. A  concluding section considers the broader implications of archival research for the fields of archaeo­logy and cultural heritage preservation.

A History of Destruction in Palmyra Syria has captured global attention over the last decade due to its devastating civil war that has destroyed countless lives and uprooted others, and the city of Palmyra has become emblematic of the cultural heritage loss due to the systematic destruction of the site.12 Yet, Palmyra is rather familiar with loss. As a city that reached its zenith under the Roman Empire — meaning the first three 11 

[accessed 21 May 2022]. 12  For a perspective on the urgency of the situation in Syria regarding its heritage during the civil war, see Ali 2013; Al Quantar and others 2015.

103 centuries ad — Palmyra boasted monumental architecture and flourishing caravan trade. Yet, this cultural and economic height was undone by the very same Roman Empire when Aurelian sacked the city twice in ad 272 and 273, respectively.13 Although the city was likely not devastated, as a Roman legion was installed in Palmyra following the two sacks, it did irreparable damage to the city’s prosperity and power, and most likely resulted in lost heritage. Furthermore, the period between the end of the third century and the Early Islamic period as well as the medi­eval period has only recently begun to attract attention through scholarly investigation, leaving many questions about what has been lost.14 The history of destruction in Palmyra continues in the early modern period, when traveller accounts of the ancient city record tales of looting and damage. One such account passed down from the 1890s is that of the Danish scholar Johannes Elith Østrup. 15 As a twenty-four year old, Østrup travelled from Egypt to Copenhagen on horseback, including a visit to Palmyra, which he records in two publications.16 The first, published in 1894, produced a description of Palmyra that includes remarks on looting sculptures that have been ‘haphazardly dug’ and ‘treated with the most vandalistic behavior’.17 Østrup continues, In earlier times, the faces of the sculptures were demolished by religious fanatics, now the heads are cut off out of commercial concerns. All export of antiquities is illegal, and an entire statue or relief is not easy to hide or to transport; a decapitated head, on the other hand, is a simple thing to make disappear and sell for a few francs to a travelling Englishman. This is the reason for the demolished torsos, which one sees lying around on the southwestern edges of the ruin-city.18

Østrup’s observations, it seems, capture a culture of violence geared towards the ancient material culture that far predates the current situation in Syria. Yet, motivations for the destruction sound familiar to a present-day audi-

13   For a history of Palmyra in the third century ad, see Hartmann 2001; Smith 2013, 175–81. Recent contributions to the history of Palmyra in general include Sommer 2017; Gawlikowski 2022; Raja 2022. 14  Intagliata 2018. For further references to late antique and early Islamic Palmyra, see Gawlikowski 2009; Intagliata 2019. 15  Spencer 2022. 16  Østrup 1895; 1895; Raja and Sørensen 2019. 17  Østrup 1894, 62–63. Translation taken from Raja 2022. 18  Østrup 1894, 62–63. Translation taken from Raja 2022.

Amy Miranda and Rubina Raja

104 ence: vandalism and greed. He describes the religiously motivated destruction of sculptures and the ability of individuals to profit from the illegal art market. The political instability in Syria has contributed to the continued destruction of Palmyra’s cultural heritage in the present day. Most notably, since 2017, ISIS has advertised their earlier destruction of the Temple of Baalshamîn, the triumphal arch, and Roman theatre, to name but three examples.19 This information was made known to UNESCO, yet the ongoing conflict and a lack of funding — as well as a lack of political support — has made supporting the restitution of Palmyrene artefacts a continued challenge.20 Although the above examples — the sack by Aurelian, the vandalism witnessed by Østrup, and the destruction by ISIS — highlight major harm done to Palmyrene cultural heritage, there are less visible ways in which Palmyra’s heritage has been put at risk. Archaeo­ logical practices in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries had a much different attitude than current best practices, particularly in terms of documentation. Outside of Palmyra, a well-known example are the excavations of Max Mallowan in Syria, whose wife, Agatha Christie, provides insight in her book Come, Tell Me How You Live: An Archaeo­logical Memoir.21 In her memoir, Christie’s account of the excavations suggests that Mallowan and his team dug through and left undocumented, millennia worth of material so as to get to the prehistoric phases that were of more interest to them. This is just one episode of what would be considered poor archaeo­logical practice by the standards of the present day. In the region, (un)intentional destruction of material in order to get to or preserve one specific phase was a known practice. 19  For the destruction of Palmyra in the media, see examples such as National Geo­g raphic [accessed 2 February 2022]; The New York Times [accessed 2 February 2022]; and the United Nations [accessed 2 February 2022]. These are merely three references of many. 20  See for example, UNESCO, ‘Safeguarding Syrian Cultural Heritage’; and UNESCO, ‘Observatory of Syrian Cultural Heritage’. Both websites have useful information about a variety of initiatives in and outside UNESCO, although they are not currently kept upto-date. 21  Christie 1946.

In Palmyra, for example, Roman-period monuments were stripped of any later evidence of reuse without always recording this later phase. Specific to Palmyra, when Henri Seyrig was appointed the head of the antiquities service in the region during the French Mandate period, he oversaw several projects that entailed the removal of all post-Roman phases from the site.22 The Sanctuary of Bêl had been gradually developed into a village, yet under Seyrig, the sanctuary perimeter was cleared of all post-Roman phases to preserve the temple and temenos. This led to the displacement of hundreds of people, not to speak of the lost heritage that was never documented. Seyrig was aware of the implications of his decision, yet his personal interests in the Roman period and appeal of the temple to the site’s visitors, outweighed any sense of preservation of other phases.23 Such attitudes that privilege certain information or archaeo­logical phases over others is now outdated. Yet, these earlier efforts to preserve not only exclude certain information, but are shaped by colonialist ideas that Western culture is more important or correct. Such superiority complexes — that one’s religion permits the destruction of another culture’s material record, or that a Roman phase is more significant than an Islamic phase — are slowly being disentangled from archaeo­ logical practices as scholars seek to decolonize the field.24 As archaeo­logists reconsider and rewrite histories that acknowledge past destructive behaviours and reflect upon attitudes, there are still limits upon what scholars can recover — some heritage, tangible or intangible, has been permanently lost.25 Yet, we propose that revisiting legacy data and archaeo­logical archives might, through rigorous study, provide a means for safekeeping heritage. Archives do more than bring information to light, but they also allow scholars to rethink previously accepted narratives.

Case Studies The series of aggressions that Palmyrene cultural heritage has faced — regardless of temporal norms or supposed justifications — have made preservation and restitution 22   Raja

2022. For the French Mandate and its relation to archaeo­logy, see Bussemaker 2021. 23  See Stucky 2010. 24  On decolonizing archaeo­logy, see Atalay 2006; Pollock 2010; Schneider and Hayes 2020. 25  On recovering heritage, see Silver and others 2018; Baird and Kamash 2019.

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efforts an overwhelming task. Yet, as the field of archaeo­ logy has developed and international laws on trafficking artworks have been put in place, such work remains possible. As Ingholt documented numerous graves in his diaries, so too does he record hundreds of sculptures in his archive.26 These practices began in the 1920s and developed into the formal archive, which was revisited into the late 1970s. Here, we present several potentials of this material and its meaningfulness for Palmyra’s cultural heritage. The Funerary Relief of Hadirat Katthina (PS 772) A sheet in the Ingholt Archive known as Palmyrene Sculpture 772, commonly abbreviated by Ingholt as PS  772, documents a limestone loculus relief with a female bust (Fig. 7.2). The black-and-white photo­graph shows the relief leaning against a brick wall flanked on either side by other loculus reliefs. The image, rather small, is mounted at the sheet’s centre and is accompanied by only a few annotations. In the sheet’s upper left corner, in pencil, the date ‘3. årh ad’, or ‘third century ad’, is written. Other annotations include the relief ’s dimensions, which are given directly below the relief as ‘h. 67 – la 62’. Compelling information is provided in blue ink at the image’s lower right corner, the single name, ‘Massayeh’.27 According to the J. Paul Getty Museum, where the relief is currently part of the collection at the Getty Villa, the object’s provenance can only be traced back to 1940 when Elias Solomon David sold it to Joseph Brummer. It was in the Joseph Brummer collection until 1964 when it was sold on auction at Sotheby’s to the Arcade Gallery. It was on sale at Stanley Moss auction house in 1965 and acquired by the J. Paul Getty Museum in 2019 through the auction house Robert Simon Fine Art, New York.28 Yet, Ingholt’s photo­g raph and annotations suggest that there is more history to uncover prior to 1940. The full image shows the relief against a brick wall and Ingholt has written ‘Messayeh’ below and to the side of 26 

For the diaries, see Raja and Steding this volume. Likely a misspelling and reference to antiquities dealer R. D. Messayeh. 28   [accessed 1 September 2021]; [accessed 1 September 2021]. See also Sotheby’s, 16–17 November 1964, lot 172. 27 

Figure 7.2. PS 772. Loculus relief with female bust. © Palmyra Portrait Project, Ingholt Archive at Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, and Rubina Raja.

the photograph. The evidence suggests that the piece was with the Messayeh brothers, art dealers who specialized in Middle Eastern art and operated in New York from 1913 onwards. Loculus Relief with Bust of Priest and Female Bust (PS 252) The archive sheet for PS 252 is a yellow sheet with a black and white image glued off-centre. Traces of glue on the sheet imply that the image was re-adhered (Fig. 7.3). The image shows a loculus relief with the bust of a priest accompanied by a female bust on the viewer’s left. She rests her hands on his shoulders in a gesture that suggests she is in mourning for the deceased priest. The relief ’s inscriptions read ‘Malê son of Taîbbôl son of Malê alas’ and ‘Aqmê his mother’ and support the idea that the mother is mourning her deceased son, Malê.29 The blackand-white image is removed from any context, with the relief shown against a white background. 29 

CIS 4571; PAT 0934.

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Figure 7.3. PS 252. Loculus relief with bust of priest and female bust. © Palmyra Portrait Project, Ingholt Archive at Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, and Rubina Raja.

There are only a few annotations on the sheet, but Ingholt’s notes are telling. In the sheet’s upper right corner, near the Ingholt PS number, is the abbreviation ‘Beyr Priv 2’ which indicates a private collection in Beirut. Abbreviations in this corner of an Ingholt Archive sheet refer to the object’s collection at the point when it was added to the archive: this sculpture was in a private collection in Beirut. Notably, this abbreviation is written in a red pencil. Other annotations on the sheet are written in blue pen. In the sheet’s lower left corner is written ‘Sotheby, July, 1963. No. 37, p. 12’. This annotation must be later than the ‘Beyr Priv’ note for several reasons. As a sheet with a low PS number, meaning below 527, this sculpture was published as part of Ingholt’s higher doctoral thesis in 1928.30 Thus, it seems likely that the sheet was added to the archive during the 1920s and updated with the Sotheby note after 1963. This also indicates that Ingholt kept track of sculptures’ movements over the years. This sculpture, however, has no more up-to-date information following this publication by Sotheby’s. 30 

Ingholt 1928. For an English translation, see Bobou and others (eds) 2021.

Figure 7.4. PS 675. Loculus relief with female bust. © Palmyra Portrait Project, Ingholt Archive at Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, and Rubina Raja.

This ‘disappearance’ suggests that were this piece ever to resurface on the art market, the Ingholt Archive would be critical to the efforts to establish its provenance. The Beauty of Palmyra (PS 675) The so-called Beauty of Palmyra is an exceptional work of Palmyrene funerary sculpture, notably for its highquality carving and ornate decoration, including traces of polychromy. The Palmyra Portrait Project first published on the sculpture’s research potential in 2015, after digitization of the Ingholt Archive had been completed.31 We provide an overview of their results here to highlight how the archive can facilitate object recontextualization. On an archive sheet for PS 675, as it is known in the Ingholt Archive, the ‘Beauty’ is shown shortly after excavation (Fig. 7.4). Although this is a fascinating image on its own, showing the relief on the ground outside in front of a stone wall, it is the annotation beneath the image’s lower left corner that is of interest. The note reads, ‘Qasr Abjad’.

31 

Raja and Sørensen 2015.

7. The Ingholt Archive In an article from 1989, Klaus Parlasca, when presenting some of the sculptures found within the Qasr Abjad tomb, dismissed the idea that the ‘Beauty’ derived from this context, since, he claims, it had already been photo­g raphed in 1914 in surroundings that suggested a private collection.32 Indeed, the museum files at Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek also listed the relief as ‘probably acquired from a private collection’ though there is no supporting evidence given for this.33 Moreover, even though Parlasca was of the opinion that the ‘Beauty’ had been photo­g raphed in 1914, he gives no reference to such a photo­g raph and this photo­g raph has not yet been located. Thus, this photo­graph and the annotation are significant as they imply that the ‘Beauty’ was discovered in the Qasr Abjad tomb. This hypothesis is corroborated by Ingholt’s excavation diaries, and a 1929 Danish newspaper article.34 On 22 December 1929, the Danish newspaper Berlingske Tidende featured an article on the ‘Beauty’ stating that it had been discovered during excavations in Palmyra by Harald Ingholt in 1928 and subsequently purchased with funds from the Rask-Ørsted Foundation for the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.35 Ingholt’s evidence in the form of his diary and archive, demonstrate the correct context for PS 675 and may contribute to further research on this tomb and its decorative programme.

Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage The Ingholt Archive is an invaluable resource in Syrian heritage preservation, keeping alive the memory of objects now lost or destroyed. Moreover, given its digital form, it is poised to be a critical tool in sharing Syria’s heritage with the world. As a first step, the now digital Ingholt Archive (which was scanned at 1200dpi within the framework of the Palmyra Portrait Project) has been treated to a multipronged publication strategy so as to widely and responsibly disseminate the data Ingholt collected. The field of archaeo­logy has developed rapidly in recent years and incorporated an increasing amount of digital techno­logies, and the digitization of archives 32   Parlasca

1989, 186–87; Ploug 1995, 188–89; Raja and Sørensen 2015a, 444. 33  Raja and Sørensen 2015a, 439. 34  Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021; Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 48. 35  Ingholt 1929; 1930, 343; Raja and Sørensen 2015b, 48; Raja 2019a, 43.

107 and legacy data is an important direction for the field.36 A foundation for the Archive Archaeo­logy project are the FAIR principles, Findable, Accessible, Interoperable, and Reuseable.37 Thus, the publication strategy developed for the Ingholt Archive included publishing the ‘raw data’ online as open data, followed by publication in print and as an e-book in a fully commented version with corresponding biblio­graphy.38 In sharing data, archaeo­logy has moved slower than the hard sciences in making data points accessible. As such, it was important to the project to act by FIAR principles and democratize the data so that anyone with an interest in Palmyra can check studies of Palmyrene sculpture against the archive. This democratization takes its form in the archive’s publication as open data, so it is now freely available to anyone with internet. The project took the raw data, Ingholt’s archive sheets, and converted them to high-quality PDFs that were arranged by the number given to them by Ingholt. The sheets are available on Figshare, an established, international repository for data and were published in the Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data.39 The in-print and e-publication of the archive are separate from the transformation of the archive into open data. These publications also present each sheet from Ingholt’s archive, but are accompanied by transcription, commentary, translations, and biblio­graphy. The authors of the publication include an introductory essay that outlines the archive’s history and their approach to composing the commentary.40 This form of the archive may be preferable to some — for example, Ingholt composes some of his notes in Danish, a language not all classical archaeo­logists are trained in — yet, this form will hopefully be made available in research libraries for scholars to access. Far from ideal, as this raises issues of audience and restricts access to the transcriptions and translations, yet archaeo­logical projects face multiple issues when it comes to publishing such material as open access. Open access is an excellent way for researchers and the public to access information so long as they can access the internet. However, authors are confronted with incredibly high publication fees when choosing to publish their research as open access. Publishing the Ingholt 36 

Raja and Sindbæk 2018. Wilkinson and others 2016. 38  Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021; Bobou and others (forth­ coming). 39  Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021. 40  Bobou and others (forthcoming). 37 

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108 Archive as open data is a first step in mitigating access without burdening researchers with fees and makes the archive freely available to anyone so long as they respect the copyright. The open data publication helps mitigate the restriction issues inherent to the expensive in-print and e-publication of the archive. Yet, even having the archive online, freely available, while a current best practice, raises questions about digital colonialism. Archaeo­logists often have access to research libraries or internet, but this is not the case for the public, especially those living in conflict zones. Local populations in conflict zones can be subject to having the internet or power turned off, making research impossible. Alternatively, even if local Syrian populations, for example, are made aware of the Ingholt Archive as open data, these communities are faced with an English interface through which to access the data, and then they must read through Ingholt’s handwritten notes in Danish, French, German, and English, or the inscriptions he transcribes in Palmyrene Aramaic, Hebrew, and ancient Greek. Moving forward, these are important issues to consider when making material available for audiences beyond the archaeo­logical community. Nevertheless, it remains important to initiate conversation around the problem of digital colonialism, while still advocating for the holistic publication of archaeo­logical archives and legacy data.

Conclusions: The Archive in Archaeo­logy and Cultural Heritage Preservation The role of the archive in archaeo­logical research is only in its infancy, particularly as digital sciences impact what can be done to disseminate such data. Future methodo­ logies can develop to help share cultural heritage responsibly with a focus on equity so as to confront, head-on, the problem of digital colonialism. Increased collaborative research between archaeo­logists and cultural heritage specialists, as well as with digital sciences, and local communities can reshape the ways in which heritage is preserved in both tangible and intangible forms. The Ingholt Archive is a particular resource — it records hundreds of Palmyrene funerary sculptures as they were in the twentieth century (some images were added as late as the 1970s), well before the outbreak of the current civil war in Syria. Although this chapter demonstrates that Palmyrene heritage faced damage and looting from its early days, scholars and the public can do their best to preserve what remains and spread knowledge about the ancient culture. The archive presents the

object bio­graphies of these important sculptures, allowing scholars, in some cases, to trace them from grave to a last known location. The object bio­g raphies, like the archive itself, tell the story of an ancient life and a modern one — the funerary portraits speak beyond the moment of their employment and their afterlives then tell the history of archaeo­logy in Palmyra. This archive has the potential to lift the veil on Palmyra’s history, archaeo­logy, the history of collecting in the twentieth century, and restore knowledge of the Palmyrene culture to Syria. Archives, in general, present a wealth of information that needs reassessment as they can contribute significantly to archaeo­logical progress. Meaning, that reviewing old data with fresh eyes is not only the responsibility of researchers — such a practice can produce new methodo­logies and inspire new questions. Moreover, archives are not just to be valued for the information they contain — they are not mere receptacles of information — archives are a worthy subject of study in their own right. Thus, the production of archives and legacy data also needs to be carefully considered as the field of archaeo­logy continues to evolve. For cultural heritage preservation and sharing, tracing object bio­g raphies through archaeo­logical archives and legacy data is a best practice in restoring and honouring history. A best practice is to make the raw data available freely so that anyone can utilize the data points to work towards improving the odds that heritage will not be lost. The stories found in archives are not just those of the objects, but are critical to understanding the past and present identities of a community.

Acknowledgements The authors are grateful to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek for granting the rights to publish the archive. The authors thank the ALIPH Foundation and Carlsberg Foundation for generously funding respectively Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives (grant held by Rubina Raja, agreement 2019-1267) and the Palmyra Portrait Project (grant held by Rubina Raja, agreement CF15-0493). Since 2012, when the Palmyra Portrait Project was founded by Rubina Raja, several individuals have contributed to the digitalization and study of the material. The authors wish to thank everyone who has participated in and contributed to the projects. Furthermore, this work was supported by Centre for Urban Network Evolutions (under grant 119) held by Rubina Raja.

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Abbreviations CIS Corpus inscriptionum Semiticarum (Paris: Imprimerie nationale). PAT Hillers, D. R. and E. Cussini. 1996. Palmyrene Aramaic Texts (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Uni­ver­sity Press).

Works Cited Ali, C. 2013. ‘Syrian Heritage under Threat’, Journal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeo­logy and Heritage Studies, 1.4: 351–66. Al Quantar, A. and others. 2015. ‘Responding to a Cultural Heritage Crisis: The Example of the Safeguarding the Heritage of Syria and Iraq Project’, Near Eastern Archaeo­logy, 78.3: 154–60. Atalay, S. 2006. ‘Decolonizing Archaeo­logy’, American Indian Quarterly, 30.3/4: 269–79, 661. Baird, J. and Z. Kamash. 2019. ‘Remembering Roman Syria: Valuing Tadmor-Palmyra from “Discovery” to Destruction’, Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, 62.1: 1–29. Bobou, O., A.  Miranda, and R.  Raja. 2021. ‘The Ingholt Archive: Data from the Project “Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives”’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 6, 1–10 . Bobou, O. and others (forthcoming). The Ingholt Archive: The Palmyrene Material, Archive Archaeo­logy, 2, 4  vols (Turnhout: Brepols). —— (eds). 2021. Studies on Palmyrene Sculpture: A Translation of Harald Ingholt’s Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur, Edited and with Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols). Bussemaker, N. J. 2021. ‘Imperialism’s Stepchild: Dura-Europos and the Political Uses of Archaeo­logy in the French Mandate of Syria, 1920–1939’, MSSA Kaplan Prize for Use of MSSA Collections, 23 [accessed 21 May 2022]. Christie, A. 1946. Come, Tell Me How You Live: An Archaeo­logical Memoir (Glasgow: William Collins and Sons). Gawlikowski, M. 2009. ‘Palmyra in the Early Islamic Time’, in K. Bartl and A. al-Razzaq Moaz (eds), Residences, Castles, Settlements: Transformation Processes from Late Antiquity to Early Islam in Bilad al-Sham; Proceedings of the International Conference Held at Damascus, 5–9 November 2006 (Rahden: Leidorf ), pp. 89–96. —— . 2021. Tadmor – Palmyra: A Caravan City between East and West (Cracow: IRSA Publishing House). Greenhalgh, M. 2016. Syria’s Monuments: Their Survival and Destruction, Heritage and Identity, 5 (Leiden: Brill). Hartmann, U. 2001. Das palmyrenische Teilreich (Stuttgart: Steiner). Ingholt, H. 1928. Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur (Copenhagen: Reitzel). —— . 1929. ‘Palmyra Skønheden i Glyptoteket’, Berlingske Tidende, 22 December 1929: 7. Intagliata, E. 2018. Palmyra after Zenobia, ad 273–750: An Archaeo­logical and Historical Reappraisal (Oxford: Oxbow). —— . 2019. ‘The City that Would Not Fall’, in A. M. Nielsen and R. Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 235‒50. Kropp, A. J. M. and R. Raja. 2014. ‘The Palmyra Portrait Project’, Syria: archéo­logie, art et histoire, 91: 393–405. Østrup, J. E. 1894. Skiftende Horizonter (Copenhagen: Gyldendalske Boghandel Forlag). —— . 1895. Historisk-topografiske Bidrag til Kendskabet til den syriske Ørken (Copenhagen: Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab). Parlasca, K. 1989. ‘Beobachtungen zur palmyrenischen Grabarchitektur’, Damaszener Mitteilungen, 4: 181–90. Ploug, G. 1995. Catalogue of the Palmyrene Sculptures: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek). Pollock, S. 2010. ‘Decolonizing Archaeo­logy: Political Economy and Archaeo­logical Practice in the Middle East’, in R. Boytner, L. S. Dodd, and B. J. Parker (eds), Controlling the Past, Owning the Future: The Political Uses of Archaeo­logy in the Middle East (Tucson: Uni­ver­sity of Arizona Press), pp. 196–216 . Raja, R. 2018a. ‘Compilation and Digitalisation of the Palmyrene Corpus of Funerary Portraits’, Antiquity, 92: 1–7 . —— . 2018b. ‘Stacking Aesthetics in the Syrian Desert: Displaying Palmyrene Sculpture in the Public and Funerary Sphere’, in C. M. Draycott and others (eds), Visual Histories of the Classical World: Essays in Honour of R. R. R. Smith, Studies in Classical Archaeo­ logy, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 281–95. —— . 2019a. ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyra: A Danish Archaeo­logist and his Work at Palmyra’, in A. M. Nielsen and R. Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 41–64. —— . 2019b. ‘Portrait Habit in Palmyra’, in A.  M. Nielsen and R.  Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 137–54. —— . 2019c. The Palmyra Collection: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek).

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—— . 2021a. ‘“Den smukkeste Kvindebuste, jeg endnu har set”: The Palmyra Excavation Diaries of Harald Ingholt, 1924–1928’, in R. Raja, J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds), Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4, i (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 23–68. —— . 2021b. ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyrene Sculpture: Still a Lifelong Relationship a Century Later’, in O. Bobou and others (eds), Studies on Palmyrene Sculpture: A Translation of Harald Ingholt’s Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur, Edited and with Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 1–27. —— . 2022. Pearl of the Desert: A History of Palmyra (Oxford: Oxford Uni­ver­sity Press). Raja, R. and S. Sindbæk. 2018. Urban Network Evolutions: Towards a High-Definition Archaeo­logy (Aarhus: Aarhus Uni­ver­sity Press). Raja, R. and S. Sørensen. 2015a. ‘The “Beauty of Palmyra” and Qasr Abjad (Palmyra): New Discoveries in the Archive of Harald Ingholt’, Journal of Roman Archaeo­logy, 28: 439–50. —— . 2015b. Harald Ingholt and Palmyra (Aarhus: Aarhus Uni­ver­sity). —— . 2019. ‘Historio­graphy: Danish Research from Johannes Østrup to the Palmyra Portrait Project’, in H. Eristov and others (eds), Le tombeau des trois frères à Palmyre: mission archéo­logique franco-syrienne 2004–2009 (Beirut: Presses de l’Ifpo), pp. 59–64. Raja, R., J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon. 2021. Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4, 2 vols (Turnhout: Brepols). Schneider, T.  D. and K.  Hayes. 2020. ‘Epistemic Colonialism: Is It Possible to Decolonize Archaeo­logy?’, The American Indian Quarterly, 44.2: 127–48. Silver, M. and others. 2018. Reviving Palmyra in Multiple Dimensions: Images, Ruins and Cultural Memory (Dunbeath: Whittles). Smith, A. M. 2013. Roman Palmyra: Identity, Community, and State Formation (Oxford: Oxford Uni­ver­sity Press). Sommer, M. 2017. Palmyra: A History (London: Routledge). Spencer, C. (trans.). 2022. Shifting Horizons: Observations from a Ride through the Syrian Desert and Asia Minor, Archive Archaeo­ logy, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols) (published in 1894 as Skiftende horizonter: Skildringer og iagttagelser fra et ridt gennem ørkenen og Lille-Asien (Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1984)). Stucky, R.  A. 2010. ‘Henri Seyrig – Engagierter Archäo­loge und Verwalter des Antikendienstes während der Mandatszeit’, in C.  Trümpler (ed.), Das Große Spiel: Archäo­logie und Politik zur Zeit des Kolonialismus (1860–1940) (Co­logne: DuMont), pp. 504–11. Wilkinson, M. D. and others. 2016. ‘The FAIR Guiding Principles for Scientific Data Management and Stewardship’, Scientific Data, 3 .

8. Perspectives on Funerary Sculpture from Roman Palmyra through the Harald Ingholt Archive Ditte Kvist Johnson Uni­ver­sity of Gothenburg

Amy Miranda Centre for Urban Network Evolutions, Aarhus Uni­ver­sity

Introduction

Harald Ingholt and Palmyra

Classical archaeo­logy has traditionally underutilized archives despite the discipline’s vast quantity of such material. However, when archives are incorporated into archaeo­logical study, ‘lost’ information can be rediscovered, new questions can be asked of familiar material, and new directions can be generated for the discipline. To demonstrate such potentials, this chapter looks at the archive of the Danish archaeo­logist Harald Ingholt who amassed over 2347 sheets containing images and annotations of Palmyrene funerary sculpture.1 The archive (hereafter referred to as the Ingholt Archive), is an exemplary case study in the development of new avenues of research in classical archaeo­logy, particularly those sites in conflict zones where fieldwork is not an option for Western scholars. The Ingholt Archive contains photo­ graphic and epi­graphic data as well as observations made by Ingholt that provide the foundation for new research on Palmyrene funerary art and architecture. As such, this chapter looks at three examples of Palmyrene funerary sculpture from the Ingholt Archive to consider the archive’s repercussions for archaeo­logy, its potential for the creation and understanding of sculptural assemblages, and the usefulness of archives beyond studying the ancient past. The chapter first provides a brief introduction of Palmyra and Harald Ingholt before turning to questions of the place of archives in archaeo­ logical research. It then illustrates its main points with examples from the Ingholt Archive.

The ancient city of Palmyra, located in the Syrian steppe desert, has been a source of European fascination since its ‘rediscovery’ in the seventeenth century.2 Though the city and its surrounding area had been occupied since the early second millennium bc, Palmyra witnessed great prosperity throughout the first three centuries ad when it played a key role in the East–West caravan trade.3 Since this period in time, a large number of scholars have been interested in the city: its history at the time of the struggle for independence by Queen Zenobia,4 its central location within the transregional production and economic networks,5 the wealth of material culture and monumental architecture,6 as well as its social organization and urban dynamics within society.7 Up to the present time, an important resource for understanding Palmyra and Palmyrene material culture has been the excavations carried out by the Danish archaeo­logist Harald Ingholt in the 1920s and 1930s. Ingholt’s interest in Palmyra originated from the large collection of Palmyrene sculpture in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen, first established by Carl Jacobsen in the 1880s. 8 Ingholt began excavating in Palmyra in 1924 and primarily focused on the excava-

*  This paper originated as a contribution to the colloquium session, ‘Archive Archaeo­logy and Cultural Heritage: Documen­ tation in Conflict Zones’ organized by Rubina Raja, Olympia Bobou, and Amy Miranda at the 2021 Annual Meeting of the Archaeo­ logical Institute of America. We are grateful to the participants in the session for the questions and comments. 1  Bobou, Miranda, and Raja 2021. See also Miranda and Raja this volume.

2  Raja 2019, 51–53; Sartre-Fauriat 2019. The ‘rediscovery’ of Palmyra is often associated with the later visit by the Englishmen Robert Wood and James Dawkins who, among other things, recorded and published drawings of the monuments of the city (Wood 1953). 3  For a history of Palmyra, see Schmidt-Colinet 2005; Sartre and Sartre-Fauriat 2008; Sommer 2018; Intagliata 2018. 4  Andrade 2018. 5  Seland 2016; Meyer 2017; Steding 2020. 6  See, for example, Degeorge 2002; Delplace 2017; Raja 2017. 7  Raja 2016b; 2018. 8  Nielsen 2019.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 111–128 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130476

112 tion of the hypogea (underground tombs) located in the south-west necropolis.9 During the excavations, Ingholt not only made significant discoveries of and advances in the study of Palmyrene tombs as well as their associated inscriptions, relating business transactions and family relations, but also in the study of the funerary sculpture found in and around the tombs. Subsequently, in 1928, Ingholt published his dissertation on Palmyrene funerary sculpture and with the support of the RaskØrsted Foundation, he was able to bring a variety of discovered artefacts to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen.10 Ingholt continued to work on Palmyrene art and material culture throughout his career, developing his archive as he moved from Denmark to a position at Yale Uni­ver­sity. The archive was given to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in the 1980s shortly before Ingholt’s death. In Copenhagen, the Danish archaeo­ logist Gunhild Ploug turned her attention to Ingholt’s archive, yet the archive remained unpublished.11 Interest in Palmyrene studies more generally has changed since the period of the French Mandate, with Greece and Rome often taking precedence in studies of the ancient Mediterranean world. However, in the past thirty years or so, an increasingly expansive and geo­g raphically inclusive view of the ancient world has emerged, and although theories such as Romanization have been rethought to account for exchanges and entanglements, cities such as Palmyra are still designated as ‘provincial’ and have continued to receive far less attention than more well-known urban centres — such as Rome. However, a global turn in the humanities and recent focus on the study of the Roman provinces has redirected academic attention towards the Roman Near East. Palmyra is a critical site for understanding the ancient world, particularly with its corpus of funerary portraiture, the largest outside of the city of Rome. The large corpus is not only important to the study of Roman portraits in general but also to other topics such as the formation of regional and transregional identity, production economy, and the workings of Roman social dynamics. In parallel, renewed attention is being paid to archaeo­logical sites in the Middle East, particularly Syria, following the outbreak of the civil war in 2011. 9  Raja and Sørensen (2015, 18–19) provide a brief overview of the work of Harald Ingholt in Palmyra. 10   Ingholt’s dissertation, entitled Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur, has recently been published in an English version with commentary — see Bobou and others 2021. 11  Raja and Sørensen 2015, 60–61.

Ditte Kvist Johnson and Amy Miranda In this context, Palmyra became a major focus point for international news outlets in late May 2015 when the Islamic State (ISIS) captured the city from the Syrian government, immediately raising concerns for the preservation of Palmyra’s cultural heritage. In fact, not long after the capture of the city, ISIS destroyed some of the ancient buildings in the city and the terrorist organization released photo­g raphs showing militants smashing statues and reliefs stored in the Palmyra Museum.12 After the outbreak of the civil war, the Palmyra Portrait Project (see below) also recorded a significant increase in the number of Palmyrene portraits for sale at various antiquities dealers and auction houses around the world and raised concerns about the potential looting of Palmyra’s many tombs.13 By the time the city was recaptured by Syrian authorities in March 2017,14 Palmyra had suffered extensive damage and loss of cultural heritage, thus making study of the material from the site of the utmost importance for preservation and restitution efforts.

Palmyra Portrait Project and the Ingholt Archive From 2012 to 2020, the Palmyra Portrait Project (PPP), under the direction of Professor Rubina Raja, has been collecting all Roman-period portraits from Palmyra with the aim of compiling a detailed and comprehensive overview of the sculpture.15 At present, the project’s collection consists of over three thousand objects, all of which are scattered across museums, private collections, and antique markets around the world, revealing that Palmyrene funerary sculpture is the largest corpus of portrait sculpture in the Roman world outside Rome. The PPP initially focused on the collection at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, holding the largest collection of Palmyrene funerary sculpture outside of Syria as well as the archive and excavation diaries of Harald Ingholt. The latter had been donated to the Glyptotek by Yale Uni­

12   [accessed 19 May 2021]; https://www. channel4.com/news/palmyra-statues-destroyed-by-isis-militants [accessed 19 May 2021]. 13  Raja 2013, 169. 14   [accessed 19 May 2021]. 15  For more information regarding the history, publications, events, and news of the PPP, see [accessed 12 May 2021].

8. Perspectives on Funerary Sculpture from Roman Palmyra ver­sity where Ingholt had worked for several years.16 The Ingholt Archive, digitized by the PPP, consists of over 2347 archive sheets and holds detailed information on the sculpture he studied including pictures, notes, drawings, and references collected by Ingholt between the 1920s and 1980s.17 The archive includes both sculptures found in collections all around the world as well as many unpublished pieces whose current whereabouts or state of preservation are unknown. In particular, the photo­g raphs collected by Ingholt, often taken at (or close to) the time of excavation or discovery, are crucial to the study of Syria’s cultural heritage since a number of these pieces have since been destroyed, damaged, or stolen. Moreover, Ingholt’s notes for the different objects provide an important point of departure for the study of the portraits included in his archive as this information has since been lost or currently is unavailable — oftentimes due to the ongoing conflicts in Syria. In this way, the Ingholt Archive provides an important resource to not only explore the large amount of funerary portraiture from Palmyra but also to assess and reconstruct some of the losses of the world’s cultural heritage and the damage done to various objects from Palmyra. The publication of the Ingholt Archive is an offshoot of the Palmyra Portrait Project, as archive sheets themselves are worthy of their own inquiry. Each sheet tells the story of an object, but also provides information about early twentieth-century excavation and collection practices and demonstrates the intellectual interests of Ingholt as a scholar. Ingholt, as an archaeo­logist and theo­logian, focused much of his attention on the relief ’s inscriptions. His annotations show an interest in Palmyrene genealogy and Palmyrene Aramaic as a language. Ingholt’s fascination and facility with languages is apparent in his annotations, which are written in Danish, English, French, German, and Latin, sometimes switching between languages in a single note. Another interest of Ingholt’s is connoisseurship, perhaps best illustrated by his classification system, first published in his doctoral dissertation. In his dissertation, Ingholt created a chrono­logical and typo­logical classification system of the portraits he studied, based on pieces dated by their inscriptions as well as by comparing these to the large number of undated funerary reliefs and stelae. By 16 

The excavation diaries that Ingholt wrote during his field­ work campaigns in 1924, 1925, and 1928 detail some of the finds that he made and the tombs he excavated as well as the day-to-day occurrences of the excavation. See Raja, Steding, and Yon 2021. 17  Kropp and Raja 2014, 393–94, 396.

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using the dated objects as a point of departure, Ingholt divided the portraits into three groups, ranging between ad 50–250. Ingholt further divided the portraits within these groups into subgroups based on different stylistic criteria, such as the rendering of the eyes, the style of the drapery, the jewellery worn, or the attributes held in the hands of the depicted figures.18 The Ingholt Archive formed the basis for Ingholt’s 1928 dissertation, but expanded in size over the years. Images of the Palmyrene funerary sculptures are mounted and often retaped to the centre of the sheet, which is an orange-brown or yellow file folder rather than a sheet of paper. Ingholt wrote the object’s PS number (Palmyrene Sculpture number) in the sheet’s upper right corner — the PS number given at the top of the sheet, often in quotations, is a later number assigned by the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Although it is impossible to claim the order in which the notes were made, the erasures, faded text, and different writing implements suggest the passage of time; Ingholt returned to his sheets over and over again. Throughout the 1980s, Ploug at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek also made additional notations to the sheets, which are typically written on small yellow Post-It notes adhering to the sheets. In addition to the comments, Ploug also divided the Palmyrene sculpture at the Glyptotek into more narrow dating spans, based on stylistic criteria,19 which, at the same time, underlined Ingholt’s previous assertion that many stylistic qualities often continued into the next constructed group.20

Archive, Archaeo­logy, Assemblage In calling attention to some of the potentials of archival material in archaeo­logical research, it is important to recognize how archives have been utilized in the past, the arrival of the archival turn, and new directions forward in the use of archives in archaeo­logical practice.

18  Ingholt 1928, 19–150. Ingholt dated his groups as follows: Group I: 50–150, Group II: 150–200, and Group III: 200–250. Originally, Group I only covered the period of 100–150 but was further extended down to ad 50 by Ingholt a few years later (Ingholt 1930). Another significant addition to the study of Palmyrene portraits is Malcolm  A. Colledge’s book, The Art of Palmyra, published in 1976, which, among other things, refined Ingholt’s classification system (Colledge 1976). For an overview of the chrono­logy of Palmyrene sculpture, see, for example, Ploug 1995; Long 2016; Krag 2018, 11–13. 19  Ploug 1995. 20  Ingholt 1928, 92–93. See also Krag 2018, 12.

114 The archive as a concept holds a particular position in Western human civilization, as a historical phenomenon with origins reaching back to ancient European civilizations though the foundation for an ‘archival science’ only emerged de facto during the Scientific Revolution in the seventeenth century. By this point in time, the archive was a (national) collection of a vast range of written materials arranged according to a hierarchy of value — a process also known under the Germanic term Registratur. In the following centuries, scholars elaborated on the understanding of Registratur and its equivalents as seen in the many armouries, vaults, and treasure chests across Europe as well as the historical significance of the archive itself — though still taking established practices into account.21 In fact, since the nineteenth century, scholars, as well as political practitioners, have tended to look at archives as either ‘arsenals of authority’ on the one hand or as ‘historians’ laboratories’ on the other hand, with a profound focus on the historicity of the archive as well as its capacity as a source of information.22 Indeed, a basic assumption underlying the socalled archival turn is that prior to the late 1990s, the archive was merely a container for documentation. It was most famously articulated by Nicholas Dirks, a historian on modern India, that the archive, ‘is itself the primary document of history’,23 thus marking a new moment in scholarship on archives. An implication of this statement is that archives are not neutral; instead, archives are sites of contention, a specifically framed and curated history. This theme is addressed fully below in the discussion. Beginning in the 1990s, it has become commonplace within the humanities to speak of the ‘archival turn’, which is generally taken as a shift in the analytical status of archives from ‘archive-as-source’ to ‘archive-assubject’.24 A significant impetus for the archival turn was provided by scholars such as Michel Foucault, a philosopher, historian of ideas, and literary critic, as well as the philosopher Jacques Derrida. In his 1967 essay, Foucault introduced the archive as one of the dominant paradigms of modernity. Similarly, Derrida’s article, entitled ‘Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression’,25 has become a key reference point for archival analyses. ‘Archive Fever’, 21 

Duchein 1992; Head 2016, 499–500. Bautier 1968; Head 2019, 22–23. 23  Dirks 2002. 24  As theorized by the anthropo­logist Ann Laura Stoler (Stoler 2009). See also Hutchinson and Weller 2011, 133. 25  Derrida 1995.

Ditte Kvist Johnson and Amy Miranda itself based on a lecture delivered by Derrida in 1994, is an important contribution to the study of archives because it calls for a rethinking of the concept of the archive as a result of changes (and issues) caused by new techno­logies and digital communication methods. In sum, that archival turn flips the narrative on the neutrality of archives and allows for scholars to question their assumptions surrounding archaeo­logical documentation. The outbreak of the civil war in Syria has meant that it has been impossible for Western scholars to access Palmyra, thereby severely hindering research and any further archaeo­logical excavations of the site. The destruction of the site of Palmyra as well as its material culture has also meant that much excavated, as well as presumably unexcavated, material has either been lost or critically damaged. Since the outbreak of the conflict in Syria, a number of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) have worked meticulously on documenting the damage done to Syrian cultural heritage as well as supporting research in this area. For example, the American Society for Overseas Research has highlighted the importance of documenting archaeo­logical sites in light of the current instability of several countries in the Middle East through their many reports.26 Moreover, in recent years, scholars have taken an interest in developing a methodo­ logy for studying damage sustained to archaeo­logical sites globally — both through natural and cultural processes. However, as highlighted by Cunliffe, these studies have faced difficulties in determining the quantity of the extent of damage done to sites in an easily repeatable manner.27 As such, it has become increasingly important not only to sustain research on Palmyra and the many other sites afflicted by the conflict in Syria, but also to explore new avenues for the preservation and communication of cultural heritage, including how many of these materials were documented in the first place. In practical terms, merely documenting damage does not allow for reconstruction if proper documentation was not done before the aforementioned damage. Within this frame of reference, the corpus of photo­g raphs, drawings, and notes from the Ingholt Archive are important in many ways; the digitization of the Ingholt Archive brings about an opportunity to bring together information spread across several archive sheets and create more com-

22 

26   [accessed 1 June 2021]. 27  Cunliffe 2014, 230 with biblio­graphy. See also Casana 2015; Daniels and Hanson 2015.

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plete collections of materials, thus significantly improving not only our understanding of the portraits themselves and their history but also the contexts in which they were found, originated, and later came to be in.

Case Study 1: PS 139128 In March 2016, the American Society of Overseas Research published a report detailing some of the damage sustained to cultural heritage sites in Iraq and Syria after their recapture from ISIS militants. Amongst the several locations mentioned, the report provides a preliminary assessment of some of the losses to Palmyrene cultural heritage, including one sarcophagus with a banqueting scene located in the Palmyra Museum (inv. no. A 910/10) (Fig. 8.1). Initially reported damaged in Russian and Syrian news outlets, the injuries sustained to the sarcophagus was a consequence of the capture of Palmyra by ISIS militants in May 2015 and the subsequent military confrontations between these and state troops.29 On the image of the sarcophagus printed in the report, we observe that all the individuals represented have been defaced and large pieces of the sarcophagus lid have been broken off, making it impossible to study elements such as facial features, representations of various attributes such as jewellery, or more specific chrono­logical and stylistic developments. As such, the sarcophagus is just one of many examples of the severe damage Syrian cultural heritage has suffered in recent years. It is fortunate that this particular sarcophagus had previously been documented both in the Ingholt Archive as well as in some of Ingholt’s publications. 30 The three sheets in the Ingholt Archive record a series of photo­graphs of the sarcophagus before as well as after it was reconstructed by the excavation team (Figs 8.2–8.3). Together with the images, the sheets also detail important information such as the sarcophagus’s measurements, date, and original location, as well as some of the names mentioned in the inscriptions on the sarcophagus and the source and date of one of the photo­graphs. The sarcophagus depicts the priest Baʿlaî with his immedi28  For a preliminary investigation of this sculpture, see [accessed 21 May 2022]. 29  Danti and others 2016, 100; Raja 2016a; 2016b; 2017. 30  Ingholt 1962; 1966; 1970–1971; 1976. See also Ingholt 1935, 90–108.

Figure 8.1. PS 1391. Complete sarcophagus with portraits. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

ate family — several inscriptions on the sarcophagus lid not only identify the persons depicted and their relations but also date it to ad 188. Baʿlaî is shown reclining on a kline on the sarcophagus lid, wearing Parthianstyle clothing, and can be recognized as a priest by his priestly attire, such as the high, cylindrical, flat-topped priestly hat. To the right of him are his three daughters and wife and a standing male named Shalman, who may have been the servant of Baʿlaî. On the sarcophagus box, Baʿlaî is depicted once more and is flanked to his right by his daughter-in-law, Barbarah, and his son, Dayyôn, and to his left by two granddaughters and a boy. Two of the three sheets also carry Post-It notes originating from the period after the archive had been donated to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Interestingly, these document part of the history of the archive; one of the notes relates: ‘Var sat ned bag billedet af Beʿelais sarkofag. Ing. AN 1391’ (Was placed behind the photo­graph of the sarcophagus of Beʿelais. Ing. AN 1391), describing where a particular image was originally found in the archive (Fig. 8.3). Another one (Fig. 8.2) poses a comment for the users of the archive: ‘Kun det nederste billede affotograferes’ (Only the bottom picture is to be photo­ graphed).31 In light of the recent events described above, this relatively copious documentation both partly mitigates the destruction of the site and allows us a window into the state of the sarcophagus as it originally appeared. The sarcophagus, which originally stood in the south chamber of the hypogeum of Malkû located in the south31 

Nielsen 2019, 38.

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Figure 8.2. PS 1391. Sarcophagus before and after it was reconstructed. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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Figure 8.3. PS 1391. Complete sarcophagus and a detail of the female figures from the lid. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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118 west necropolis in Palmyra, was excavated by Ingholt in 1937 (Fig. 8.2). In the publication of the sarcophagus (see above), Ingholt noted that the sarcophagus was of high-quality workmanship and, though it was found broken into several pieces, it had only suffered minor damage. For his publication, Ingholt also drew on the several archive sheets for the sarcophagus that he had recorded in his paper archive. As mentioned above, the archive sheets included a series of pictures of the sarcophagus as well as specific details relating to it, such as the original location and date, and interestingly, the archive sheets also include pictures of the sarcophagus before it was reconstructed by the excavation team (Figs 8.2–8.3). These pictures are important because they allow us to precisely assess any new damage that the sarcophagus may have suffered since it was first discovered. They also make it possible to see how it was reconstructed, providing us with important insights into the archaeo­logical methods used at the time of the reconstruction in the 1930s. In this way, because of the careful documentation made by Ingholt, it is possible to reconstruct an important piece of Palmyrene funerary art and, further on, situate it within the broader framework of Palmyrene archaeo­logy. This example also highlights the importance of archive archaeo­logy as it shows how we might recover invaluable information about damaged cultural heritage.

Case Study 2: PS 6132 In a second example from the Ingholt Archive, it is made clear that lives of objects do not stop at their creation or even the end of their use. The funerary banquet relief of Bar ʿ ateh and his family lived its Palmyrene life until the sack of ad  273, but found new life after its excavation in the late nineteenth century. The yellow sheet of PS 61 features two different images of a sarcophagus lid and copious notes in red ink (Fig. 8.4). There are five figures on this sarcophagus lid, with Bar’ateh, the patriarch, as the reclining figure at the viewer’s right. The others are ʿAtemâ (at the viewer’s left), and three male figures: Barʿateh, Barnabû, and Nabûgaddî. The relationship of these figures to the first Barʿateh is 32  For preliminary research on this sculpture, see [accessed 21 May 2022].

unclear and this problem seemed to pose difficulties for Ingholt, who, across the five sheets for PS 61, proposed two different family trees.33 The notes in red pen strewn across the page reflect Ingholt’s interest in the inscriptions and Palmyrene genealogy. However, the PS sheets dedicated to this sarcophagus can also tell archaeo­logists about the excavation history. A telling moment in the afterlife of the sculpture is seen in the lower image on the archive sheet. Here, a man in dress contemporary to the late nineteenth century poses with the sarcophagus lid. The image was published by the Russkij archeo­l ogiečskij institut v Konstantinopole in 1902. 34 The RAIK operated from 1895 to 1914 when it ceased operations due to World War I.35 During its period of activity, the RAIK was a formidable presence in the archaeo­logy of the Middle East. The photo­g raphs in the publication as well as those taken by Ingholt show the sarcophagus lid in a better state of preservation than in a publication by al-As ʿ ad and Gawlikowski of 1997. 36 It seems that between 1902 and 1997 the sculpture underwent damage of which there is no documentation. Yet, more than these two moments — 1902 and 1997 — are hinted at across the five archive sheets. When Ingholt saw and photo­g raphed the sarcophagus lid it was not at the turn of the century, but in the 1920s as he was composing his doctoral thesis. The sculpture was still in Syria, but it was then at the Palmyra Museum (Figs 8.5–8.8). Ingholt’s photo­g raphs add another layer of intrigue to the sarcophagus lid’s story as it documents a moment after excavation, but prior to the damage it underwent. Then, almost a century later, as part of the museum’s collection during the systematic destruction of Palmyra in 2015, the sheets hold the memory of this object, the state of preservation of which is currently unknown.

33 

Ingholt 1974, 40–43. Russkij archeo­logiečskij institut v Konstantinopole, 7 (1902), pl. XIV. 35  For more information about the RAIK, see Üre 2014. 36  al-As’ad and Gawlikowski 1997, 68, cat. no. 104, fig. 104. 34 

8. Perspectives on Funerary Sculpture from Roman Palmyra

Figure 8.4. PS 61. Archive sheet with a photograph of a man posing next to the sarcophagus lid. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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Figure 8.5. PS 61. Sarcophagus lid with five portraits. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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Figure 8.6. PS 61. Sarcophagus lid with five portraits. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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Figure 8.7. PS 61. Archive sheet with a photograph of the sarcophagus lid with notes. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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The relief, which was acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York) in 1902, can be described as a gravestone carved in high relief. The museum notes that The man is reclining on a richly decorated couch, holding a palm spray or cluster of dates in his right hand and a cup in his left. The two daughters wear veils, necklaces, and earrings. The son wears a necklace and holds grapes in his right hand and a bird in his left.38

Figure 8.8. PS 61. Sarcophagus lid shortly after its discovery. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

Case Study 3: PS 6737 A third and final example, PS 67, is a banquet relief with four figures (Metropolitan Museum of Art 02.29.1) (Fig. 8.9). The relief shows Zabdibôl as a reclining figure at the viewer’s right and his family: his son Moqîmû, and his two daughters, ʿAliyat and Tadmôr. There are two sheets for PS 67. One with significant annotations to accompany the images is a brown sheet, oriented horizontally, to make space for the two images of the banqueting relief positioned side by side (Fig. 8.10). Notes are scattered across the sheet in a variety of different writing implements, tracking Ingholt’s return to the images over and over again. Although later additions made in pen indicate Ingholt’s growing interest in the inscriptions and, correspondingly, Palmyrene genealogy, his initial notes, made in pencil, show his process in understanding the sculpture on stylistic terms. 37  For preliminary research on this sculpture, see [accessed 21 May 2022].

The sculpture, which likely sealed the opening of a family burial niche, has a Palmyrene Aramaic inscription in addition to the figures. This inscription names the figures and their ancestors.39 There is little about the relief that it is exceptional by Palmyrene standards. What is innovative is Ingholt’s thinking about the sculpture: his conception of the relief as part of a pan-imperial dialogue. Rather than conceiving of Palmyrene sculpture in a vacuum, Ingholt often lists comparanda for the sculptures among his copious notes on the archive sheets. PS 67 is an extreme case of this as he looks all the way to Roman Britain for his comparison. Ingholt developed an interest in ‘The Tomb of the Victor’ of the South Shields Museum in northern England (NEWMA:1960.44.5.C). From the archive sheet, it seems that he became aware of this grave relief through an article in the Journal of Roman Studies.40 The article by F. Haverfield and H. Stuart Jones discusses several different sculptural typo­logies, with ‘The Tomb of the Victor’ falling under the designation of ‘other monuments’. This is not to say that the monument, or the Palmyrene banquet relief, is less important to the field of Roman sculptural studies. ‘The Tomb of the Victor’ shows a male figure reclining upon a kline in an aedicula. He, too, holds a palm spray or the like in his right hand and a cup in his left. There are clear formal similarities between the two male figures, however, damage to the figure’s head in ‘The Tomb of the Victor’ relief prevents any comparison of the two portraits. Without universalizing, it is possible to suggest that this motif — the reclined figure of a funerary banquet relief — could appear pan-imperially (the reclining figure motif is not only a Roman phenomenon, but has been also associated with art of earlier cul38  ‘Funerary Relief ’. Metropolitan Museum of Art [accessed 2 February 2022]. 39  CIS 4259; PAT 0615. 40  Haverfield and Stuart Jones 1912.

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Figure 8.9. PS 67. Banquet relief depicting four individuals. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

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Figure 8.10. PS 67. Archive sheet for PS 67 with multiple annotations. © Ingholt Archive at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, the Palmyra Portrait Project, and Rubina Raja.

tures, for example, in Assyria and Anatolia). Each iteration of the motif is distinctive in some way, but Ingholt maintained a dialogue between the eastern and western parts of the empire. Whether it was Ingholt’s intent or not, by connecting the Near East with Britain he was participating in a rather twenty-first-century dialogue on Roman provincial studies and, more broadly, globalization. Recent trends in the humanities such as globalization, network theory, and relational thinking — to name a few — are emerging as critical tools in developing a new appreciation for art and artefacts that were often considered marginal. Whether this marginality was geo­g raphic (such as provincial art) or typo­logic (such as decorative, or minor, arts), the impact of these artefacts on the impe-

rial centres and their monumental arts is now being reconsidered and re-appreciated due to new frameworks and proper contextualization. This is to say that the sculpture of Palmyra (and also Roman Britain) should not be considered merely provincial or as isolated entities. First, sculptures of the Roman provinces should be evaluated on their own terms rather than judged against the metropolitan sculpture of Rome and other capital cities known for their sculpture such as Athens, Greece, or Aphrodisias, Turkey. Second, the designation of ‘provincial’ should not express any negative judgement, but simply act as a geo­g raphic descriptor. Last, the local communities that created these sculptures should not be treated as insular.

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Conclusion

Acknowledgements

The Ingholt Archive is a wonderful collection of images, inscriptions, and annotations from a leading scholar of Palmyrene archaeo­logy formed during the course of the twentieth century. As the examples demonstrate, there is a broad range of possible outcomes when working with this material. For scholars of the ancient Near East, the Ingholt Archive will be a valuable tool in new research. More broadly, the archive shows the worth of working with legacy data: there is much to learn from past excavations and archaeo­logical research. Archives not only store information — they are more than mere containers. Archaeo­logical archives enrich present-day research with details of the distant and more recent past, allowing researchers to contextualize their findings — both the objects they study in an ancient context, but also present research practices within archaeo­logy’s history.

This work was undertaken at the Centre of Excellence for Urban Network Evolutions (UrbNet), funded by the Danish National Research Foundation under the grant DNRF119. Additional work was performed as part of the projects Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives and the Palmyra Portrait Project, funded by the ALIPH Foundation and Carlsberg Foundation respectively, both with grants held by Rubina Raja. The authors wish to thank Professor Raja for her direction on these projects.

Abbreviations CIS Corpus Inscriptionum Semiticarum (Paris: E Reipublicae Typo­grapheo). PAT Hillers, D. R. and E. Cussini. 1996. Palmyrene Aramaic Texts (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Uni­ver­sity Press).

Works Cited al-As’ad, K. and M. Gawlikowski. 1997. The Inscriptions in the Museum of Palmyra (Warsaw: Palmyra Museum and Uni­ver­sity of Warsaw). Andrade, N. J. 2018. Zenobia: Shooting Star of Palmyra (Oxford: Oxford Uni­ver­sity Press). Bautier, R.-H. 1968. ‘La phase cruciale de l’histoire des archives : la constitution des dépôts d’archives et la naissance de l’archivistique (xvie – début du xixe siècles)’, Archivum, 18: 139–49. Blömer, M. and R. Raja. 2019. ‘Shifting the Paradigms: Towards a New Agenda in the Study of the Funerary Portraiture of Greater Roman Syria’, in M. Blömer, and R. Raja (eds), Funerary Portraiture in Greater Roman Syria, Studies in Classical Archaeo­logy, 6 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 5–26. Bobou, O., A.  Miranda, and R.  Raja. 2021. ‘The Ingholt Archive. Data from the Project “Archive Archaeo­logy: Preserving and Sharing Palmyra’s Cultural Heritage through Harald Ingholt’s Digital Archives”’, Journal of Open Archaeo­logy Data, 9: 6, 1–10 . Bobou, O. and others (eds). 2021. Studies on Palmyrene Sculpture: A Translation of Harald Ingholt’s Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur, Edited and with Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols). Casana, J. 2015. ‘Satellite Imagery-Based Analysis of Archaeo­logical Looting in Syria’, Near Eastern Archaeo­logy, 78.3: 142–52. Colledge, M. A. R. 1976. The Art of Palmyra (London: Thames and Hudson). Cunliffe, E. 2014. ‘Archaeo­logical Site Damage in the Cycle of War and Peace: A Syrian Case Study’, Journal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeo­logy and Heritage Studies, 2.3: 229–47. Daniels, B. I. and K. Hanson. 2015. ‘Archaeo­logical Site Looting in Syria and Iraq: A Review of the Evidence’, in F. Desmarais (ed.), Countering Illicit Traffic in Cultural Goods: The Global Challenge of Protecting the World’s Heritage (Paris: The International Council of Museums), pp. 83–94. Danti, M. D. and others. 2016. ‘ASOR Cultural Heritage Initiatives (CHI): Planning for Safeguarding Heritage Sites in Syria and Iraq. NEA-PSHSS-14-001. Weekly Report 85–86 — March 16 – 29, 2016’ [accessed 21 May 2022]. Degeorge, G. 2002. Palmyra: Einführung von Paul Veyne (Munich: Hirmer). Delplace, C. 2017. Palmyre: histoire et archéo­logie d’une cité caravanière à la croisée des cultures, L’Esprit des lieux (Paris: Éditions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique). Derrida, J. 1995. ‘Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression’, Diacritics, 25.2: 9–63.

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Dirks, N. B. 2002. ‘Annals of the Archive: Ethno­graphic Notes on the Sources of History’, in B. K . Axel (ed.), From the Margins: Historical Anthropo­logy and its Futures (Durham, NC: Duke Uni­ver­sity Press), pp.  47–65 . Duchein, M. 1992. ‘The History of European Archives and the Development of the Archival Profession in Europe’, The American Archivist, 55.1: 14–25. Haverfield, F. and H. Stuart Jones. 1912. ‘Some Representative Examples of Romano-British Sculpture’, The Journal of Roman Studies, 2: 121–52. Head, R. C. 2016. ‘Configuring European Archives: Spaces, Materials and Practices in the Differentiation of Repositories from the Late Middle Ages to 1700’, European History Quarterly, 46.3: 498–518. —— . 2019. Making Archives in Early Modern Europe: Proof, Information, and Political Record-Keeping, 1400–1700 (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­sity Press). Hutchinson, B. and S. Weller. 2011. ‘Archive Time (Guest Editors’ Introduction)’, Comparative Critical Studies, 8.2–3: 133–53. Ingholt, H. 1928. Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur (Copenhagen: Reitzel). —— . 1930. ‘The Oldest Known Grave-Relief from Palmyra’, Acta archaeo­logica, 1: 191–94. —— . 1935. ‘Five Dated Tombs from Palmyra’, Berytus, 2: 57–120. —— . 1962. ‘Palmyrene Inscription from the Tomb of Malkû’, Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph, 38: 101–19. —— . 1966. ‘Some Sculptures from the Tomb of Malkû at Palmyra’, in M. L. Bernhard (ed.), Mélanges offerts à Kazimierz Michalowski (Warsaw: Państwowe Wydawnictwo Naukowe), pp. 457–76. —— . 1970–1971. ‘The Sarcophagus of Be’elai and Other Sculptures from the Tomb of Malkû, Palmyra’, Mélanges de l’Université Saint-Joseph, 46: 171–200. —— . 1974. ‘Two Unpublished Tombs from the Southwest Necropolis of Palmyra, Syria’, in D. K. Kouymjian (ed.), Near Eastern Numismatics, Icono­graphy, Epi­graphy and History (Beirut: American Uni­ver­sity of Beirut), pp. 37–54. Intagliata, E. E. 2018. Palmyra after Zenobia ad 273–750: An Archaeo­logical and Historical Reappraisal (Oxford: Oxbow). Krag, S. 2018. Funerary Representations of Palmyrene Women: From the First Century bc to the Third Century ad, Studies in Classical Archaeo­logy, 3 (Turnhout: Brepols). Kropp, A. and R. Raja. 2014. ‘The Palmyra Portrait Project’, Syria: archéo­logie, art et histoire, 91: 393–408. Long, T. 2016. ‘Facing the Evidence: How to Approach the Portraits’, in A. Kropp and R. Raja (eds), The World of Palmyra (Viborg: Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab), pp. 135–49. Meyer, J. C. 2017. Palmyrena: Palmyra and the Surrounding Territory from the Roman to the Early Islamic Period (Oxford: Archaeo­ press). Nielsen, A. M. 2019. ‘Palmyra in the Glyptotek’, in A. M. Nielsen and R. Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 23–40. Ploug, G. 1995. Catalogue of the Palmyrene Sculptures Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek). Raja, R. 2013. ‘Gravportrætterne i Palmyra: Mellem krig og kunstmarked’, SFINX, 36.4: 168–69. —— . 2016a. ‘The History and Current Situation of World Heritage Sites in Syria: The Case of Palmyra’, in K.  Almqvist and L. Belfrage (eds), Cultural Heritage at Risk: The Role of Museums in War and Conflict (Stockholm: Axel and Margaret Ax:son Johnson Foundation), pp. 27–47. —— . 2016b. ‘In and out of Contexts: Explaining Religious Complexity through the Banqueting Tesserae from Palmyra’, Religion in the Roman Empire, 2.3: 340–71. —— . 2017. ‘Going Individual: Roman-Period Portraiture in Classical Archaeo­logy’, in A.  Lichtenberger and R.  Raja (eds), The Diversity of Classical Archaeo­logy, Studies in Classical Archaeo­logy, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols), pp. 271–86. —— . 2018. ‘Urbanizing the Desert: Investigating the Diversity of Urban Networks through the Images of Deceased Palmyrenes’, in R. Raja and S. M. Sindbæk (eds), Urban Network Evolutions: Towards a High-Definition Archaeo­logy (Aarhus: Aarhus Uni­ver­sity Press), pp. 75–80. —— . 2019. ‘Harald Ingholt and Palmyra’, in A.  M. Nielsen and R.  Raja (eds),  The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 41–64. Raja, R., J. Steding, and J.-B. Yon (eds). 2021. Excavating Palmyra: Harald Ingholt’s Excavation Diaries; A Transcript, Translation, and Commentary, Studies in Palmyrene Archaeo­logy and History, 4, 2 vols (Turnhout: Brepols). Raja, R. and A. H. Sørensen. 2015. Harald Ingholt and Palmyra (Aarhus: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek). Russkij archeo­logiečskij institut v Konstantinopole, 7 (1902). Sartre-Fauriat, A. 2019. ‘The Discovery and Reception of Palmyra’, in A.  M. Nielsen and R.  Raja (eds), The Road to Palmyra (Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), pp. 65–77. Sartre-Fauriat, A. and M. Sartre. 2008. Palmyre: la cité des caravans (Paris: Découvertes Gallimard). Schmidt-Colinet, A. (ed.). 2005. Palmyra: Kulturbegegnung im Grenzbereich, Sonderbände der Antike Welt, Zaberns Bildbände zur Archäo­logie, 3rd edn (Mainz: Von Zabern).

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Seland, E. H. 2016. Ships of the Desert and Ships of the Sea: Palmyra in the World Trade of the First Three Centuries ce, Philippika, 101 (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz). Sommer, M. 2018. Palmyra: A History, Cities of the Ancient World (Abingdon: Routledge). Steding, J. 2020. ‘Carvers & Customers: The Production Economy of Limestone Loculus Reliefs in Roman Palmyra, 1st to 3rd Century ad’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, Aarhus Uni­ver­sity). Stoler, A. L. 2009. Along the Archival Grain: Epistemic Anxieties and Colonial Common Sense (Princeton: Princeton Uni­ver­sity Press). Üre, P. 2014. ‘Byzantine Heritage, Archaeo­logy, and Politics between Russia and the Ottoman Empire: Russian Archaeo­logical Institute in Constantinople (1894–1914)’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, the London School of Economics and Political Science). Wood, R. 1753. The Ruins of Palmyra, Otherwise Tedmor, in the Desart (London).

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn: Challenges and Results (2018–2021) Patrick M. Michel Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne (ASA)

Introduction This article presents a vital heritage project carried out at the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne (UNIL) since 2017 and also proposes, after three years, to take stock of the challenges encountered and the successes. The archives of the Swiss archaeo­logist Paul Collart have been preserved at UNIL since the late 1980s. Critical documentation includes the Swiss excavations of the Baalshamîn sanctuary in Palmyra between 1954 and 1956 and in 1966. After the destruction of the temple by explosives in 2015, this archive has become the world’s most comprehensive source of documentation on the lost monument. It is in this context that the Collart-Palmyre Project was born. It is an important project developing on various levels: indexing in databases, 3D modelling, educational and social actions with local communities, and the fight against the trafficking of cultural goods. First, the reader will find a brief presentation of the project’s genesis and the Palmyrene sanctuary excavated by the Swiss teams. Then, we will place the recent destruction of the Temple of Baalshamîn in the broader context of the various heritage destructions on the site of Palmyra. The material loss of the monuments on the site motivated the exploitation and indexation of the scholar’s archives to preserve this heritage and ensure its access through rich documentation. We will, therefore, also present the varied composition of this archive. Based on the documentation, the reader will then be able to discover how the documents are indexed within various databases, how the archives are used for the production of 3D models, and finally, how our teams have * As scientific director of the project, it is my pleasure to name and thank every team member. Such a project would have been impossible without the energy and the goodwill of all the members: Prof. Anne Bielman, Nathalie Pichard, Amélie Mazzoni, Cati da Silva Simoes, Ludivine Colombara, Scott Mcavoy, and Valentin Michellod (who I also thank for his help in writing this paper). I  would like to also thank a former member of the team, Julien Es-Borrat. Finally, many thanks to Jana Dambrogio (MIT) for her proofreading. All errors are mine.

created activities and educational programmes with local populations and refugees to work on the transmission of this cultural memory. Last but not least, we will also present the work carried out to participate in the fight against the illicit trafficking of cultural goods. All aspects will be evaluated, and the challenges and results will be presented.

The Collart-Palmyre Project (Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne, Switzerland). An Overview Paul Collart was a Swiss archaeo­logist and former Professor of Archaeo­logy at the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne. He managed the first important Swiss archaeo­logical expedition outside national borders (1954–1956). It is impossible to talk about Collart without naming Henri Seyrig. Seyrig held many leadership roles in Lebanon and Syria. For example, in 1929, under the French Mandate, he was the founder and director of the French Institute of Near Eastern Archaeo­logy in Beirut and the director of Antiquities of the French High Commissioner of Syria. The Antiquities of the French High Commissioner of Syria entrusted Collart with excavating the Monumental Altar of Baalbek in Lebanon in 1938. In 1953, shortly after the Second World War and upon Seyrig’s request, UNESCO entrusted Collart with establishing the inventory of the cultural goods of Syria and Lebanon. This was the first occasion for Collart to be in touch with the antiquities authorities in Syria. The very next year, 1954, was the beginning of the excavation of the Baalshamîn temple and Sanctuary in Palmyra. The excavation and the mission — made possible thanks to the Swiss team and funding from the Swiss National Fund for research — lasted from 1954 to 1956. The last campaign in 1966 took place before the final publication of the results of the missions. Some years later, Collart became director of the Swiss Institute in Rome (1961–1969). He availed himself of his residency in

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 129–144 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130477

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Figure 9.1. Stone slab (lintel) with Baalshamîn depicted as an eagle (Fonds Collart, UNIL, ASA).

Rome and published the results of his Syrian research in the collection of the Swiss Institute in 1969. After Collart died in 1981, his heirs gave the Uni­ ver­sity of Lausanne all their father’s pictures. Indeed, as Collart was a former Professor of Classical Archaeo­logy at the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne, he wanted to bequeath his archive to this university. The material contains pictures, drawings, plans, and notebooks preserved, studied, and used at Lausanne. The Baalshamîn Sanctuary The Baalshamîn sanctuary — dedicated to the ‘Lord of the Heavens’, a West Semitic deity — is located in the northern part of the ancient city.1 This sanctuary changed considerably between ad 20 and the inauguration of the tetrastyle temple in ad 130/31, during Emperor Hadrian’s rule.2 The nature of the god Baalshamîn is known through epi­g raphic evidence calling him a supreme god. His Greek name is Zeus Hypsistos. 3 Master of the world, 1 

Yon 2002, 156. The date is known thanks to the inscription on a statue erected to Malê Agrippa on the pronaos of the temple by the Senate and People of Palmyra, see: Collart and Vicari 1969, 93. Malê paid for the construction of the temple as well as for oil on the occasion of the emperor’s visit to the city. See Collart and Vicari 1969, pl. VIII, no.  17, LXIX  nos  2 and 4: ‘Le sénat et le peuple (ont honoré) Malê, surnommé Agrippa, fils de Iaraios, fils de Raaios, qui, devenu secrétaire pour la deuxième fois lors de la venue du divin Hadrien, a fourni de l’huile aux étrangers et aux citoyens, a rendu service en tout pour la réception des troupes, et a élevé le temple de Zeus avec son pronaos et ses autres […] à ses frais’. 3  See for example the altar dedicated Zeus Hypsistos by a Roman 2 

he also rules over the Sun (Malakbêl) and the Moon (Aglibôl). This can be seen in the icono­g raphy where Baalshamîn, master of the sky, is depicted as an eagle with wide-open wings governing the heavenly body (Fig. 9.1).4 Furthermore, he is the god who gives rain and guarantees a good harvest: ‘The lightning he brandishes in his hand is not a representation of terrifying power, but a reminder of the fertile rain which accompanies a storm, which makes the desert green again and prevents the springs from running dry’.5 In the region of Palmyra, where the economy is fundamentally based on caravans, he also guarantees the people, cattle herders, and farmers protection from drought. He is also worshipped as an agrarian god, symbolized by the corn ears, fruits, and grapes bouquet he wears.6 The whole Sanctuary of Baalshamîn consists of three courtyards with porticoes, a banquet room, and a cella. Of this sacred part, only the pronaos and the naos remained until August 2015. The cella was similar to a small building: 15 m long and 10 m wide. The six columns surrounding the pronaos were decorated with Corinthian capitals with consoles for statues and inscriptions, and the inner part of the building was very officer on 25 September ad 302. Collart and Vicari 1969, 93. 4  The lintel called ‘bas-relief aux aigles’, today still in Palmyra’s museum, was found broken in two pieces when Collart dismantled the Byzantine apse. Collart underlines in his publication that the reuse of this block allows it to be much better preserved. See: Collart and Vicari 1969, 16. 5  Collart and Vicari 1969, 203. 6  On the double character of the deity, see Collart and Vicari 1969, 203.

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placed inside the naos without any architectonic link to it. It is, therefore, a unique construction. Nevertheless, the reuse of the temple as a church during the Byzantine period (fifth century ad) is still disputed. Since the destruction of the sanctuary by ISIL on 23 August 2015, the archive of Paul Collart — kept at the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne — has become the most important and the most complete documentation able to keep the memory of the monument alive, able to ensure further investigation, and to allow 3D modelling of the structures of the monument. Destruction in Palmyra Figure 9.2. Palmyrene inscription on limestone found embedded in the mud-brick wall bordering the dromos of tomb G to the north-east on 10 September 1956. The block was held in place by a large stucco frame covered with numerous graffiti. Translation: ‘Month of Iyar, Year 322 (May 11), this grave has been opened’.

particular and typical of oriental religious architecture. The naos was divided into three thalamoi (also called adyton) with false windows and doors designed for optical illusion.7 Before constructing the temple, this area was occupied by a funerary monument dating back to the first century bc (Late Hellenistic period). Rudolf Fellmann and the Swiss archaeo­logical team excavated it in the 1950s. In fact, an inscription on a limestone block tells us that the monument was still in use at the beginning of the first century ad (Fig. 9.2). Later, in the Byzantine period, the temple was reused. The most outstanding achievement of Paul Collart in Palmyra was that he recognized, amongst the later Byzantine structures in front of the cella, the blocks that belonged to the inner part of the cella. He was then able to reconstruct the thalamos in the naos of the temple by identifying fifty-three sculpted blocks of the thalamos.8 This discovery provided important information on the actual practice of rituals in the Palmyrene religion as the thalamos of the temple was an independent structure slightly different restitution of the thalamos has been provided by Michel Gawlikowski and Michal Pietrzykowski in Gawlikowski and Pietrzykowski 1980, 421–52. 8  A triple apse had been constructed by the Byzantines in front of the temple, destroying the inner part of the temple, see Collart and Vicari 1969, 16. This Byzantine structure was then dismantled again by Collart in order to restore the Roman temple. A slightly different reconstruction of the thalamos was published by Michel Gawlikowski and Michal Pietrzykowski. See Gawlikowski and Pietrzykowski 1980, 421–52. 7  A

The site of Palmyra was occupied by ISIL as of 21 May 2015. According to eyewitnesses, on 23 May 2015, ISIL militants destroyed the Lion of Allat and other statues. This event came days after the militants had gathered the citizens and promised to allow the city’s monuments to remain intact. During this first occupation of the city, funerary monuments were demolished on 10 June. Khaled al-Asʿad, the former director of Antiquities of Palmyra, was beheaded. Then, the Sanctuary of Baalshamîn was blown up on 25 August. Five days later, the Temple of Bêl was blown up. It became known on 4 September 2015 that ISIL had destroyed three of the best-preserved tower tombs, including the Tower of Elahbel. On 5 October 2015, news media reported that ISIL also targeted buildings with no connections to religion, including the monumental arch. This monumental arch (rather a gate) dated back to the reign of Septimius Severus and was ravaged on 4 October 2015. The city was taken over by the Syrian, Iranian, and Russian forces and Shiite militias on 27 March 2016 and then occupied again by ISIL (December 2016). During the city’s recapture by the troops of ISIL on 11 December 2016, the tetrapylon (or tetrakionion) and the theatre stage were destroyed. In March 2017, the site was taken over by the Syrian army. Following this, Maamoun Abdulkarim, former director of antiquities and museums at the Syrian Ministry of Culture, stated that the damage to ancient monuments may be lesser than earlier believed, and preliminary pictures showed almost no further damage than what was already known. Antiquities official Wael Hafyan stated that the tetrapylon was severely damaged and that it was the damage to the facade of the Roman theatre that was to be considered less severe as previously thought.

132 UNOSAT satellite images allow us to document the various destructions between 2015 and 2016: the funeral towers in June 2015, the temples of Baalshamîn and Bêl in August 2015, and the monumental arch in October of the same year, and the later destruction of the tetrapylon and the stage wall of the theatre in December 2016. The Project at the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne: Gathering the Archival Material In a broad understanding, an archive could be considered all the archaeo­logical records (written documents, databases, and finds) and museum collections. As stated in the session abstract Archives and Archaeo­logy – Sources from the Past, Tools for the Future, ‘The importance of archives for archaeo­logical research is undisputed in present-day archaeo­logy’.9 Gustavsson added that archives are essential for historians of archaeo­logy, but at the same time they are also invaluable for the everyday practice of archaeo­logists. The process of archiving is one of the most important features of archaeo­logy and it has had a great influence on the professionalization of the discipline. […] In addition, the archive can work as a resource connecting the past, present and future of our discipline. Archives can also provide a starting point for research projects.10

In the case of Palmyra, after the destruction of the monuments and the sack of the local museum, archives (including photo­g raphs, drawings, plans, inventories, and notebooks) are the only remaining elements that can be used to keep the cultural memory of the monument alive (with the possibility of creating a digital double of the lost monument) and to estimate the feasibility of reconstructions (using techno­logical devices to create a simulation of the reconstruction — anastylosis). Another important way an archaeo­logical archive can be used is by helping the fight against the illicit trafficking of cultural goods. After a theft in a museum or on an archaeo­logical site, the archaeo­logist’s documentation, inventory, images, and maps, become the last evidence proving an artefact belongs to a national collection. 9  European Association of Archaeo­logists (EAA) Conference, Vilnius, 2016, Gustavsson, Anna, Gothenburg Uni­ver­sity, Sweden (presenting author). 10  European Association of Archaeo­logists (EAA) Conference, Vilnius, 2016, Gustavsson, Anna, Gothenburg Uni­ver­sity, Sweden (presenting author). Available online [accessed 1 June 2021].

Patrick M. Michel When heritage is at risk, working on an archive offers the possibility of preserving this endangered heritage and a way to pass it on to future generations. To make the information accessible to local communities, we, at the Collart-Palmyre Project, had to imagine and create specific content and ways of communication. We worked to build bridges between the past and the present through our material. Our goal was to shed light on the content of the archive by including it in the whole history of the site of Palmyra. For example, one of the historical parts of the project focuses on the understanding of Palmyra as a significant trading post on the Silk Road to recall the multicultural background of the ancient city and explain the various influences identified there. After the destruction of the Baalshamîn temple in Palmyra, problems faced are concerning the documentation of the monument itself and its destruction. Also, questions include the feasibility of physical restoration or reconstruction and factors in the conservation of the cultural memory of the location. The possibility of new archaeo­logical research is also a consideration. To address these challenges, the project at the Uni­ver­ sity of Lausanne aims to digitally publish all the documentation produced by Collart’s team and make it accessible to researchers around the world. This project is a great occasion to realize the value of an archive. Thus, the team does not produce new data but publishes and renders accessible on an open-access database all the available information on the destroyed monument. With all its documentation, the Collart archive represents part of the Syrian cultural heritage. Therefore, while promoting the value of the archive, the Collart-Palmyre Project also considers ethical questions on the meaning of its actions and how it functions by involving local communities. The archive of Collart consists of pictures, drawings, plans, and notebooks, which are preserved, studied, and used at the Uni­ver­s ity of Lausanne. Members of the Collart-Palmyre team are digitizing all the original documents of the archive, making them available on online open-access databases, such as Tiresias (tiresias.unil.ch) and on the online generator of catalogues of the Uni­ver­ sity of Lausanne CATIMA. Tiresias contains the photos, sketchbooks, and notebooks of Paul Collart in PDF format. Even unpublished documents are available on it. Through the indexation process, our work aims to give a digital double of the destroyed temple throughout its history, without prioritizing a specific period (Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, Arabic), and allow future generations to keep the memory of the monument alive.

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn To summarize, this project aims to: 1) digitize the whole of Collart’s archive, 2) make it accessible online through specific databases, 3) produce 3D models of the destroyed temple throughout its history, with geolocalization of metadata, 4) support the fight against illicit trafficking of cultural goods, and finally, 5) share knowledge and sustain the notion of cultural memory within local communities.

Documentation in the Archive The documentation left by Paul Collart contains a whole range of diverse material, including photo­graphs, plans, epi­graphic material, as well as hand notes on the sculptures: The Photo­graphs Thousands of pictures were taken during the weeks of excavation in the 1950s. Many of these are still unpublished: photo­graphs of architecture, capitals, sculptures, pictures of the parts of the thalamos, and of the anastylosis process. One of the main challenges that members of the Collart-Palmyre Project team had to face was identifying the structures on the photos and the dating of this material. However, thanks to some notes given by Collart in his field notebooks, we were able to provide a chrono­logical perspective to the documentation. For example, we know that anastylosis was done in the porticoes around the cella in 1956 and 1966. We assigned dates to all the images documenting the anastylosis process and identified the images taken before and after. Within the identification process of these photos, we also had to work on the inventory numbers given to the objects, architectural elements, and decorations found during the excavation. Some pictures, not all of them, were assigned inventory numbers of artefacts given during the excavation. This is the case for the capitals, the inscriptions, and the sculptures and for the columns and the crenels. These pictures and their ID number are beneficial for the identification of the blocks in situ. For artefacts without inventory numbers, we had to simply add a description as precise as possible of the object in the databases. In addition to the icono­g raphic documentation left by Collart, and since a funerary complex has been found behind the cella of Baalshamîn, the Collart archive also contains pictures of the so-called Grabanlage (northwest of the cella) excavated and photo­g raphed by the German archaeo­logist Rudolf Fellmann, in collabora-

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tion with the Swiss team.11 These photos are also being indexed and identified on the databases. Finally, it is interesting to note that Paul Collart took pictures of the Baalshamîn Sanctuary, and photo­ graphed other monuments in Palmyra, such as the Bêl temple with its thalamos and ceiling, the funerary towers, the theatre, or the arch. The Plans The archive contains all the original plans that have been published by Collart. In addition, we also have plans drawn on tracing paper that were used for the interpretation of the monument. These were elaborated using different colours, and they were used to distinguish the different strati­graphic levels. However, the original colours are not visible since they were published in black and white. These plans are beneficial because they offer the possibility of reconstructing the interpretation steps in phasing the site.12 Regarding the thalamos, we have Collart’s Byzantine structures plans and surveys before and after its dismantling for the reconstruction inside the cella. As mentioned, the Byzantines used the blocks from the thalamos to make the structure bigger in its reuse. The numbered blocks help to identify architectonics problems, as well as with the reconstruction of the entablature. Even if Collart mentions in his publications that he could recognize fifty-three blocks from the original thalamos in the Byzantine structure, we had much difficulty identifying each block. Indeed, in the end, we were able to identify fifteen blocks only. The Epi­graphic Material On the one hand, the documentation concerning every artefact with Greek, Latin, or Semitic inscriptions (stones, ceramics, and coins) consists of photo­g raphs taken chiefly by Collart and, not only, of notes and drawings by Christiane Dunant. On the other hand, it also includes mentions of the epi­graphic material written by Collart in his own notebook. Architectural blocks, and inscriptions, and objects were directly listed with a first 11 

Fellmann 1970; Dunant 1971. Some plans show the structure of the apse with the main altar in the foreground. Finally, we have unpublished plans with and without the grid showing the whole sanctuary as well as details. We also have the restitution of the floors and the organization of the entrance to the monument. 12 

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134 number given during the excavation to identify them. Once in the museum, a second number was added. When necessary, Collart also added small pictures of the artefact or the inscriptions to complement its description. All these inventory numbers recorded in the archive are instrumental in identifying the archaeo­logical material. With it, one could trace objects on the market or control that no piece is missing in the actual collection of a local museum. However, this work will not be done until local archaeo­logists work on the local museum’s inventories. The Documentation on the Sculptures The sculptures of the Baalshamîn sanctuary have been differently identified during the years of excavation.13 Looking at the first two volumes of the publication on the sanctuary (Vicari and Collart, 1969), we noticed that various numbers were given to the sculptures.14 When we studied the documentation in Lausanne in 2017, we deduced that a first inventory number was given in the field (1954–1956), followed by a different numbering system assigned at the end of the excavation. A catalogue existed for the sculptures with another numbering system, similar to the epi­graphic material. During 1966, the catalogue of sculptures and inscriptions was complete and allowed Prof. Rolf Stucky, at the Uni­ver­sity of Basel, to publish all the material in 2000.15 In the 1960s, the most beautiful pieces were transported to the local museum and displayed in the permanent exhibition. The rest of the sculptures were kept in the basement of the museum. Concerning the preserved pieces safeguarded in the museum of Palmyra, a different identification number was added by the museum. In Stucky’s publication from 2000, the numbers are those of Collart’s catalogue, with some changes following the identification of the motifs by Stucky. Some pieces were not considered important enough to be on display and were obviously not studied after the excavation. These pieces not being in the catalogue; they are identified only by the inventory number given in the field and kept only in the archive. Finally, as we noticed during our work on 13 

There are about three hundred pieces of sculpture inventoried during the excavation. The high number of elements is explained by the fact that the statues had been voluntarily broken to be used as a replacement in the late walls. 14  All sculptures have been widely photo­g raphed and drawn mostly by Michele Boissonnas who was on the field, freshly married to Luc Boissonnas. 15  Stucky and Dunant 2000.

the documentation, some pieces have no numbers at all. The pictures are vital for identifying the stone items and are the only way to decipher the current puzzle of stone elements after the sack of the local museum. As it happens, the museum was vandalized, and the pictures of the archive became useful to better understand what remained in the museum and what was possibly stolen. The museum sustained considerable damage. After the liberation of Palmyra, the Syrian General Direction of Antiquities emptied the museum of Palmyra and sent the archaeo­logical material to Damascus and Beirut. Nowadays, the rescued sculptures are kept in Damascus.

Databases In order to give access to the archive material, we decided to publish the documents using online databases or creating specific tools for this purpose. Our policy is to work in open access. The UNIL Intention Plan’s 2017–2021 plan of intent states that:16 UNIL researchers and teachers devote a significant part of their time to their research activities and [that] the funds invested in them are considerable. However, the visibility of the results of this research is not certain. It depends essentially on the motivation of their authors to publicize them, beyond their traditional publication in scientific journals, books or conference proceedings. Today’s research is open, participatory and transdisciplinary. […] The management of the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne intends to adopt a very clear promotion policy in favor of openness, both for publications (Open Access) and for research data (Open Data). This policy of openness must be carried out in collaboration with the privileged editorial partners, UNIL researchers, […] as well as national partners […], the political world, donors, the research community or the Consortium of Swiss Uni­ver­sity Libraries. Therefore, all the work carried out by the members of the Collart-Palmyre Project is available online.

16   [accessed 12 June 2021].

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Challenges

Results

We used different databases based on our need to track the typo­logy of information and our varying project aims. The first challenge here was to use or create specific tools for online access to the documents. That is the reason why we now have three different databases. All the photo­graphs, plans, and notebooks are accessible in a database created in the Institute of Archaeo­logy and Classical Studies of the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne to study the ancient world: Tiresias. Then, to publish the archaeo­ logical finds and objects excavated by the Swiss archaeo­ logists, we have created a specific English database using the generator of online catalogues of the Faculty of Arts of the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne, CATIMA. This database is called the Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database. The second main challenge was to follow the London Charter and the Sevilla Principles for Virtual Archaeo­logy, which is why we published our research on the online database of the Technische Universität Darmstadt, the Digital Design Unit database called The Reconstruction Argumentation Method. This third database allows transparency to understand the 3D modelling made in the project. The London Charter aims to enhance the rigour with which computer-based visualization methods and outcomes are used and evaluated in heritage contexts, thereby promoting understanding and recognition of such methods and outcomes. It is valuable to cite here two of the principles:17

After several years, we can share the following results. More than five thousand items have been indexed in the Tiresias database, of which c. 4500 are specifically on Palmyra, and approximately five hundred artefacts are available in the Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database. We also have documented three different phases of the Sanctuary of Baalshamîn on The Reconstruction Argumentation Method database. Finally, to publish the 3D models created within the project, we have used Sketchfab and PoTree, making the models available online. The following lines propose a more in-depth vision of the three databases where the research of the CollartPalmyre Project is published:

Principle 3: Research Sources In order to ensure the intellectual integrity of computer-based visualisation methods and outcomes, relevant research sources should be identified and evaluated in a structured and documented way.

The Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database on CATIMA

Principle 4: Documentation Sufficient information should be documented and disseminated to allow computer-based visualization methods and outcomes to be understood and evaluated in relation to the contexts and purposes for which they are deployed.

17  

[accessed 12 June 2021].

Tiresias The database aims to classify and save images related to Antiquity to make them accessible to the whole Institute of Archaeo­logy and Ancient History of the Uni­ver­sity of Lausanne and for users outside the university. Tiresias has three main objectives. It first intends to preserve the collections of several professors from Lausanne Uni­ver­ sity, the second intends to index the photo­g raphs and surveys of the various archaeo­logical sites, and finally, it intends to digitize any Antiquity-related image. This database contains all the documentation available in the archives and PDFs of notebooks, which can be downloaded (Tiresias.unil.ch).

CATIMA is an online catalogue generator with a priority for image catalogues. The Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database is specifically created for professionals of the art market in English. The Collart-Palmyre Project has developed, via this online catalogue generator, a database that follows the ‘Object ID’ standard elaborated by ICOM to publish the objects and small architectural elements found during the Swiss archaeo­logical mission in Palmyra (1954–1956). This database aims at preventing the illicit trafficking of cultural property, and access to the documentation on the database is available on request. The structure of the items inventory sheets is based on the Object-ID system, the international standard used to describe cultural objects. The database design is accessible and used by any professional who fights against the trafficking of cultural goods. This is why only a limited number of fields containing relevant information to identify the object have been registered.

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Figure 9.3. Tiresias Database.

Figure 9.4. The Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database on CATIMA.

These fields are: – Title: a short description of the object. – Picture: the main photo is on top of the page above the description. Below the description are several images that allow a vision of the object under various angles. – Object type: category of the object, whether it is inscribed, ceramic, sculpture, jewel, etc. – Materials: that composed the object (iron, silver, clay, etc.). – Dimensions and diameter of the object. – Inscription and particular characteristics: whether the artefact has colours or special features (breaks, holes, etc.) that clearly identify the object. – ID-Excavation: the number given on the field when found.

– ID-Museum: the number given by the museum after the excavation. – ID-publication: the number given in the Baalshamîn publication by Paul Collart and his collaborators. – Tiresias database ID: inventory number of the archive document as it appears in the database of the Collart archives. – Date: approximative dating of the object. – Description: a brief description of the object. – Biblio­graphy: references where information on the object have been found. All the book references mentioned in the ‘inventory files’ sheets are fully developed on the page ‘Biblio­graphy’. All identifying information entered in the database is based on the Collart archives, and the published work carried out by the Swiss researchers.

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Figure 9.5. The Reconstruction Argumentation Method Database.

The Reconstruction Argumentation Method As stated by Marc Grellert who created the database: The goal of the proposal presented is to compare images of the reconstruction with the sources and to link them to a written text (argumentation), which explains upon what basis, including sources, analogies,  etc. the reconstruction was made. The core is therefore the triad — ‘Reconstruction – Argumentation – Source’. In addition, there exists the possibility to also depict variants for the different areas of a reconstructed building. The advantage of such a documentation method is that it would be theoretically useable for every kind of architectural reconstruction and thus also for haptic models, reconstruction

drawings or actually built structures. The technical goal is a web-linked database that can serve as a platform for work, publication and discussion.18

Nowadays, we have documented and discussed the production process of the cella of Baalshamîn, the Byzantine structure, and the funerary monument from the Late Hellenistic period in this database. 18   Abstract available online [accessed 25 May 2021].

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Figure 9.6. Byzantine structures in the Blender file.

3D Modelling19 Challenges and Results The digital modelling was a work in progress in collaboration with the French start-up ICONEM in Paris. The 3D model is now being integrated onto a platform (PoTree) that will allow archival items to be geolocalized, associating them with the architectural/archaeo­ logical objects they document. The challenge here was to access metadata on the 3D model and to ease access to the archives through online tools. To produce the digital doubles, hundreds of pictures and plans have been used. The high poly digital model of the Baalshamîn temple is composed of more than sixty-one billion polygons. These have been drawn to reach such accuracy in the rendering. The model is accessible together with photogrammetry of the actual state of preservation of the temple. Furthermore, we wanted to publish a diachronic 3D model showing the different periods of occupation of the whole sanctuary. Therefore the digital model reproduces the story of the Baalshamîn sanctuary from the second century bc (during the Hellenistic period, when 19 

Michel 2020.

a funerary monument was in use on this area) until the ninth century ad, when the courtyards were occupied by Islamic houses and workshops. This range of time includes the Byzantine reuse of the cella of the temple during the fifth or sixth century ad. For sites under threat of disappearance, this techno­ logy guarantees that, whatever happens, the archaeo­ logical knowledge is preserved. The whole memory of this area of Palmyra is carried within a scientific tool for research, and this cultural memory will be preserved in iconic images for future generations. As a challenge, we also had to question the texture rendering of the various 3D models. The texture of 3D models is important, but the job could be expensive, and it takes time.20 The lack of time and money affected our choices to invest in this part of the project. Furthermore, we had to face a shortage of documentation available for the pre- and post-Roman period compared to what 20 

Texture on 3D models allows models to be coloured or closer to reality instead of being blank.

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn was available for the temple. As a classical archaeo­logist, Paul Collart worked extensively on the Roman level. Thereafter, the other periods are less well documented. Furthermore, the late Hellenistic tombs were made of mud bricks and poorly preserved, allowing the conservation of fewer vestiges. In the project, we therefore invested more time and money on the 3D model of the Roman-era temple and were not able to reach the same level of accuracy for the modelling of the other phases of the sanctuary: the late Hellenistic tombs, the Byzantine reuse of the temple, and the Islamic levels in the great court. We however decided to create digital doubles of the monuments as they were before the destruction and not as they were in Antiquity. That is why neither the roofs nor some of the wall heights could be recreated for the tombs and Byzantine structures. For the pre- and post-Roman periods, we produced models that give an idea of the architecture and the monuments’ size without dealing with the obvious assumptions and hypothesis that a full reconstruction would involve. Regarding the late Hellenistic funerary monument, we tried to reconstruct two vaults made of bricks to help users visualize the morpho­logy of the funerary monuments. Concerning the post-Roman houses discovered in the great court, we decided to recreate some specific areas, such as small rooms with domestic elements (basin, stairs), and only rebuild the wall of the other elements, whose height is still unknown.

Reaching Local Communities This kind of project would not be meaningful if not undertaken for and with the local populations. However, one must bear in mind that the 3D models were produced far from the local communities and that the manner used to keep the cultural memory of the destroyed monument is paradoxically a manner of dematerialization. We keep a virtual image of a lost monument as heritage, producing a virtual heritage that has to be safeguarded as well. As we have seen in the last decades, the global crisis in human migration due to war has accompanied a rise in material and immaterial cultural heritage destruction. These destructions have driven the urgency to deploy digital imaging and modelling as a means to preserve both historical monuments and objects, not only for preservation agendas but also as touchstones for the collective memories associated with them. Despite the genuine potential for virtual models to be used as part

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of humanitarian actions for displaced people, they are nonetheless ‘assets’, available for exploitation, in some cases serving economic, nationalistic, or neocolonial agendas. Scholars, such as J. Giblin21 have recently begun to confront colonialist dimensions of digital humanities research and emphasize the scope for postcolonial digital archives to decentre global humanities institutions by engaging with local practice.22 Aside from the scientific value of our Baalshamîn temple work, digital double aim is to keep alive a memory of the monument throughout its history — including its destruction. Therefore, the Collart-Palmyre Project wished to consider evaluating the social impact of its work on local communities. In this respect, we aim to investigate the possible mobility of memory in digital heritage reconstruction, and we question the authentic transmission of memory via digital objects.23 The team produced an Arabic booklet providing the history of Palmyra, and the background about the activities and goals of our project. The booklet is considered an educational tool with explanations to create cultural activities. The hope is to provide people in Syria and Syrians in refugee camps in Jordan, Lebanon, Greece, or Switzerland with this booklet and various activities that tell the story of Palmyra, with emphasis on the multicultural aspects of the city during Antiquity. That is a crucial point in the education of the next generation. People are obviously facing difficulties in finding occupations in camps. Presenting our research offers one way for people to stay connected with their heritage and their past, and also a way to transmit traditions to the next generation. That is why the project would like to participate in providing a place where culture could be expressed. While dealing with the conservation of cultural memory, we came to the idea of linking intangible with tangible cultural heritage. We therefore created an embroidery activity. Azra Aksamija (Future Heritage Lab, MIT),

21 

Giblin 2015, 123–43 and Risam 2018. 2015, 123–43 and Risam 2018. In the CollartPalmyre Project, we developed a ‘Mobility, Materiality, Memory’ research in collaboration with Sarah Kenderdine. We thank her for the inspiring discussions, the results of which are in these lines. 23  On authenticity and 3D model in archaeo­logy, see Morcillo and others 2017, 35–43. This article discusses the authenticity requirements for virtual archaeo­logy as it appears in the Seville Principles (2011) but begins by discussing the authenticity concept itself. 22   Giblin

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140 states that embroidery patterns ‘depicts the personal history of migration, and creation process, which facilitates transcultural exchange’. Furthermore, ‘textiles represent the icono­g raphic and ornamental expressions of their respective civilization’.24 Palmyra, being an important site for textile production and embroidery on the Silk Road during Antiquity, within the project, we came to the idea of developing an activity focusing on that art. In the case of Palmyra, we decided to use ornamental designs from the now destroyed Baalshamîn temple to produce embroidery patterns. This idea was also supported by the fact that, in Palmyrene tombs, silk and wool textiles have been found. Silk textile came from China (Han Dynasty),25 but wool textiles (the great majority) were also produced and decorated locally during Antiquity.26 The motifs designed on some textiles have been studied by Schmidt-Colinet in an article published in 2019.27 In this research, it was surprising that the icono­graphic repertoire of motifs in antique Palmyra was the same in architecture and textile. Indeed, the same models were used to create architectural ornaments, as well as to represent textile models on sculptures and the production of original fabric models. Palmyra has also shown a transfer of models from textile art to stone carving and architecture and not the other way around. We have then produced models and canvases that will be used for embroidery in the refugee camps and schools. The use of these patterns will give birth to activities that consider tangible and intangible heritage. It will integrate the heritage value of the Baalshamîn temple, as part of the common past of Syria, with the local tradition of embroidery and it might participate in the reconstruction of identity for the younger generations. As stated by G. Mentges, from central Asia to northern Africa, ‘the practical dealings and discourses of textile tradition […] are used in the process of nation-building and in the quest for an identity’.28 We should also underline the fact that textile traditions are considered national emblems. ‘Today’s memory of the different textile handicrafts […] takes tra24 

See ‘Diaspora Scroll’ on [accessed 3 June 2021]. 25  Zuchowska 2015, 143–61. 26   See Schmidt-Colinet 1995, 47: ‘The more than 2000 textile fragments found at Palmyra are among the largest groups of antique textiles of proven origin. They all were found either as parts of mummies or as isolated fragments in tower tombs dated by inscriptions from the first century bc to the second century ad’. 27  Schmidt-Colinet 2019, 477–85. 28  Mentges 2017, 19.

ditional symbolism seriously and includes the formerly ritualistic meanings of technical procedures.’29 Through a process of transformation for contemporary fashion, it is possible to attempt to find a modern design vocabulary for traditional designs. Producing embroidery is a way of performing cultural heritage and underling the multicultural fashion inspirations present in Syria. Therefore, the project’s aim is social and cultural and could be one element to restore social cohesion. Working on textiles and designs in ancient Palmyra gives us the possibility to recall the multicultural background of Palmyra and should contribute to reinforcing community cohesion and sustaining peace. Challenges One of the main challenges was the way we could reach local communities in various areas in Syria itself, but also in Jordan, especially during COVID. We also spent a lot of time identifying partners for our activities in Syria and in Jordan. Sometimes it was difficult to convince NGOs to work with us, and the pandemic has changed the urgency of actions. Sanitary problems became much more important than cultural activities. Once we found partners, we had to deal with the writing of Memorandums of Understanding. These procedures were sometimes very time-consuming and prevented us somehow from acting as fast as we wanted. In order to implement our embroidery activities on a large scale, we also had to find ways to work with people in cities like Aleppo or Damascus, but also in the region of Idlib. Furthermore, we had to find partners to access refugee camps in Jordan. After the first partnership with UNDP-Syria, we launched a pilot workshop collaborating with an NGO called ‘The Day After’ (TDA) in the Idlib region. TDA seeks to organize a series of workshops to reconnect local and displaced (IDP’s) populations with their cultural heritage and promote awareness of the importance of protecting this cultural heritage. This effort would fill the future civil society gaps needed to protect cultural heritage sites as the country re-stabilizes after the conflict. Also, it would ensure that the younger generations remain connected to their roots. Our collaboration is designed to educate children, youth, and women, particularly by giving them interconnected activities on embroidery that they can use to continue learning from one another once the workshop is over. This will be 29 

Mentges 2017, 20.

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn accomplished through hands-on projects that introduce participants to the artistry of their material heritage. It is hoped that children will learn the importance of documentation and preservation. In order to work with people in Azraq ( Jordan), we have set up a partnership with InZone, a group that pioneers innovative approaches to multilingual communication and higher education in communities affected by conflict and crisis. To do so, they design, develop, and scientifically validate learner-centred and techno­logysupported pedagogical models.30 Due to the sanitary crisis, it has not been possible for the Collart-Palmyre Project team to travel to Azraq, but activities have been set up online. Results In June–July 2020, UNDP-Syria partnership implemented the embroidery activity in Syria as part of its ‘Dealing with the Past’ (DwP) programme. UNDP defines this programme as follows: History is a continual repetition. Factors of crisis are often the same. Causes that lead to conflicts are often unchanged throughout History. State-building processes worldwide have been part of a long socio­logical rhetoric of selected national values and history interiorized by their citizens to reinforce their belonging and loyalty to a certain territory. These social connectors — interiorized and therefore accepted by the population — are part of the Rousseau’s Social Pact between a state and its citizens. In the aftermath of internal or external crisis, the Social Pact between a state and its citizens is weakened and, therefore, would need to be redefined and readjusted to the new situation in order to reinforce the community cohesion and sustain the peace. This approach is known as ‘Dealing with the Past’ (DwP) and is considered to be an essential basis for a peaceful society and aims at establishing a culture of accountability, rule of law and reconciliation. […] An holistic approach to Dealing with the Past recognises the interdependence of the four key pillars of the right to know, the right to reparation, the right to justice and the guarantee of non-recurrence.31

The activity was integrated in thematic days on ‘Women empowerment’ during which the portraits of notable Syrian women figures were presented, particularly 30 

Description available on the website of the project [accessed 3 June 2021]. 31   UNDP presentation document of the DwP initiative (informal document shared with the members of the CollartPalmyre Project).

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Queen Zenobia in Palmyra.32 It was around the figure of Zenobia that the booklet was used and that the embroidery activity was able to be settled. While it was complicated to establish any activity on the Syrian territory, this embroidery activity has been developed in several Syrian cities such as Aleppo, Hama, Damascus, and its suburbs, Soueïda, Kuneitra. It was well received, and positive messages have been shared by the participants of this activity. Some messages that we received from participants after the activity were very precious for us. These notes given to us carried messages such as: ‘I would like to thank everyone who supports and love and talk about Syria. And thank to Lozan Uni­ver­sity (Lausanne Uni­ ver­sity) because it talked about the Syrian monuments and history. Thank you very much’. After the activities in partnership with UNDP-Syria, we have launched a pilot workshop with TDA. Online activities are running with InZone, and we also provided a socio­logical study about the virtual reconstruction of heritage monuments, thanks to a collaboration with Dr Jenny Maggi (Senior Lecturer at the Uni­ver­sity of Geneva, Department of Socio­logy). This qualitative socio­logical study conducted among the Syrian diaspora (Switzerland, Turkey) has revealed that the site of Palmyra, and the Syrian cultural heritage, as a whole, is an integral part of their identity. For the respondents, Palmyra symbolizes Syria’s glorious past, pride, strength, resilience, directly linked to the history of Queen Zenobia, who defied the Romans and wanted to be independent. Palmyra is a historical heritage site that belongs to the Syrians but also to all humanity. The memories attached to Palmyra are always delightful and attached to deep emotions. The memories most often refer to the whole site, its magic, the magnificent view from the hill at sunset, and the emotions felt, more than specific monuments. After having been confronted with an immersive experience provided by a 3D model of the Temple of Baalshamîn, some respondents consider that this interactive virtual experience does not replace or correspond to their lived experience and emotions felt on the site. For some, it revives a feeling of loss and sadness, not only in relation to Palmyra, but for the whole of the destruction in Syria. Others consider the 3D modelling as very interesting and actual, although they underline that it remains ‘virtual’, and represents mainly an intermediate step towards an accu32  The collaboration was made possible thanks to the incredible work and motivation of Sarah Chardonnens who we would like to thank.

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Figure 9.7. Embroidery activity.

rate restoration (at least partial). For another part of the respondents, 3D would be the only way to transmit the memory of Palmyra; it contributes to giving hope to Syrians. The transmission of cultural memory via a virtual experience is considered necessary, especially for the identity of young people from the diaspora who grew up outside Syria and for people who have never visited the site of Palmyra. Moreover, such an approach contributes to enhancing the richness of Syrian heritage and raising public awareness about the importance of preserving historical heritage.

The Fight against Illicit Trafficking of Cultural Goods As mentioned, one of the aims of the Collart-Palmyre Project is to establish an inventory of all the objects found during the excavations lead by Paul Collart in Palmyra. Such an inventory aims to contribute to preserving cultural goods, ensuring their provenance and traceability so that professionals can identify and return them to their original location. This work was carried out in collaboration with the International Council of Museums from Austria (ICOM-Österreich) under a database hosted on the online catalogue CATIMA and made available (on request) to professionals who fight against the

illicit trafficking of cultural goods. The Collart-Palmyre Object ID Database was first sent to interested stakeholders (INTERPOL, OSCE, Carabinieri, UNODC, FBI, Cranfield Forensic Institute) by ICOM at the end of 2020. The Collart-Palmyra Project was invited to present its Collart-Palmyra Object ID Database during the last Netcher Forum (1–2 March 2021).33 The presentation summarized the database’s main functions and characteristics (in Object-ID format), which, for several months now, has been at the disposal of international institutions such as INTERPOL, the FBI, and the UNODC thanks to the collaboration with ICOM-Austria. The participation of the Collart-Palmyre Project in this forum reinforced the international work of the project and will undoubtedly allow better visibility of this specific database. Finally, working on inventories of objects will make it possible to compare Swiss archaeo­logists’ records of material in Palmyra and Damascus museums with updated inventories produced by the DGAM in Damascus.

33 

Netcher H2020 Consortium 2021, 34–37.

9. Digital Treatment of Paul Collart’s Archives on the Temple of Baalshamîn

Conclusion The Question of Real Heritage and Digital Heritage and the Transmission of Cultural Memory In this project, we consider the ethical issues in the digitization of cultural heritage. The virtual ‘return’ of cultural heritage that was displaced or destroyed is a great opportunity. But this opportunity creates new inequalities. ‘Often, the communities that should benefit from such projects cannot access these heritage collections due to barriers created by memory institutions (museums, archives, universities)’.34 Furthermore, we often use our own language or expensive software and therefore create limitations on access. The digital doubles are then created outside their original context and far from people and communities who need them. We also try to address these conflicting views by developing a unique theoretical and curatorial framework for memory mobility in digital heritage. We also have to keep in mind that we use metadata schemas that the Western world commonly uses to describe and arrange indigenous heritage. This way of operating has a destructive impact on community culture and challenges its integrity. The critical investigation of questions of digital heritage, collective memory, authenticity, and exploitation are to: – examine the capacity of virtual models to act as vessels for mobile migrant memories; – study the potential of digital models to migrate memory and safeguard these as intangible ‘heritage at risk’; – interrogate the notion of the ‘aura’ and authenticity of digital heritage virtual counterparts.35

the quality in a thing of being what it is claimed to be (valid, real, genuine) verified in archives and special collection through an investigative process known as authentication. […]  There is here a challenge to maintaining the object’s authenticity in its traditional meaning, even if the notion of authenticity is a social construction, authenticity is embedded in a set of established and agreed practices.36

As we tried to investigate the mobility of memory in digital heritage reconstruction and the questions of the authentic transmission of memory via digital objects, we led a socio­logical study thanks to a socio­logist. This is also why we translated a part of our research into Arabic and produced embroidery activities for refugees and young generations in camps. We produced an embroidery pattern inspired by the decoration of the destroyed Temple of Baalshamîn (a merlon of the temple). The idea is to show how, in Antiquity, motifs from textiles already inspired the decoration of buildings in architecture. By producing such an activity, teenagers and children can work on both material-tangible and immaterial-intangible cultural heritage. That is a crucial point in the education of the next generations. The meaning of the activity is given by the fact that this tradition (having the same ornament for textile and building ) comes from the antique site itself. It is one humble way to deal with cultural heritage and local communities, in their language, to link the memory of a destroyed and displaced heritage to the memory of the local communities. Finally, we are grateful to fight against the illicit trafficking of cultural goods by publishing our inventories and sharing information. The great Netcher network, as well as the ICOM-Austria have been of great help.

Aside from the scientific value of our work on the Baalshamîn temple, the digital double aim is to keep the monument’s memory alive throughout its history, including its destruction. But the only way we now have to keep this memory is the use of virtual models. We should then study the differences and connections between a digital heritage and a physical heritage. Digital replication paradoxically poses a conceptual threat to the perceived authenticity of material heritage in which aura and authorship come into contest. As Manzuch mentions, authenticity is defined as: 34 

Manzuch 2017, 11. ‘Mobility, Materiality, Memory’ research in collaboration with Sarah Kenderdine. 35 

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Manzuch 2017, 9–10.

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Patrick M. Michel

Works Cited Collart, P. and J. Vicari. 1969. Le sanctuaire de Baalshamîn à Palmyre, ii: Topo­graphie et architecture (Rome: Institut suisse de Rome). Dunant, C. 1971. Le Sanctuaire de Baalshamîn à Palmyre, iii: Les inscriptions (Rome: Institut suisse de Rome). Fellmann, R. 1970. Le sanctuaire de Baalshamîn à Palmyre, v: Die Grabanlage (Rome: Institut suisse de Rome). Gawlikowski, M. and M. Pietrzykowski. 1980. ‘Les sculptures du temple de Baalshamîn à Palmyre’, Syria, 56: 421–52. Giblin, J. 2015. ‘Decolonial Challenges and Post-Genocide Archaeo­logical Politics in Rwanda’, Public Archaeo­logy, 11: 123–43. Manzuch, Z. 2017. ‘Ethical Issues in Digitization of Cultural Heritage’, Journal of Contemporary Studies, 4: 11. Mentges, G. 2017. ‘Introductory Remarks’, in G. Mentges and L. Shamukhitdinova (eds), Textiles as National Heritage: Identities, Politics and Material Culture; Case Studies from Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Algeria and Peru (Münster: Waxmann), pp. 9–27. Michel, P. M., 2020. ‘De l’analogique au digital. Le cas du sanctuaire de Baalshamîn à Palmyre’, Patrimoine culturelle à l’ère numérique – Kulturerbe in digitalen Zeitalter, NIKE-Bulletin, 35.2: 4–7. Morcillo, J. M. and others. 2017. ‘Authenticity through VR-Based Documentation of Cultural Heritage: A Theoretical Approach Based on Conservation and Documentation Practices’, Virtual Archaeo­logy Review, 8: 35–43. Netcher H2020 Consortium. 2021. ‘Networking to Fight against Looting and Illicit Trafficking of Cultural Goods’, Project Repository Journal, 9: 34–37. Risam, R. 2018. New Digital Worlds: Postcolonial Digital Humanities in Theory, Praxis, and Pedagogy (Evanston: Northwestern Uni­ ver­sity Press). Schmidt-Colinet, A. 1995. ‘The Textiles from Palmyra’, ARAM, 7: 47–51. —— . 2019. ‘Bauornamentik und Textilmuster in Palmyra’, in B. Wagner-Hasel and M.-L. B. Nosch (eds), Gaben, Waren und Tribute: Stoffkreisläufe und antike Textilökonomie (Stuttgart: Steiner), pp. 477–85. Stucky, R. and C. Dunant. 2000. Le sanctuaire de Baalshamîn à Palmyre, iv: Skulpturen: Sculptures, Bibliotheca Helvetica Romana, 10 (Basel: Schwabe). Yon, J.-B. 2002. Les notables de Palmyre (Beirut: Institut français du Proche-Orient). Zuchowska, M. 2015. ‘Grape Picking Silk from Palmyra. A  Han Dynasty Chinese Textile with a Hellenistic Decoration Motif ’, Swiatowit: Annual of the Institute of Archaeo­logy of the Uni­ver­sity of Warsaw, 12: Mediterranean and Non-European Archaeo­logy: 143–61.

10. Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor, Univ ­ ers­ ity of Münster: The Untapped Potential of the Dörner Archive Michael Blömer Forschungsstelle Asia Minor, Universität Münster

Emanuele E. Intagliata Centre for Urban Network Evolutions (UrbNet), Aarhus Uni­ver­sity

Introduction The Forschungsstelle Asia Minor (henceforth, Forschungs­ stelle) is a research centre based at the Uni­ver­sity of Münster that was founded by ancient historian and epi­ grapher Friedrich Karl Dörner in 1971. Since its foundation, this centre has accumulated extensive archaeo­ logical documentation from the excavations and surveys conducted by its members. Today, it holds a vast archive that has continued to grow thanks to additions by scholars that were not directly affiliated with the Uni­ver­sity of Münster. Among the most extensive archival collections at the Forschungsstelle is the donation of its founder, Friedrich Karl Dörner (1911–1992). The Dörner archive includes documents related to the excavations in Commagene and the photo­graphs and travel notes of Dörner and his team in Asia Minor. A large part of this material was published by its former owner. However, a considerable number of documents remain that have not been thoroughly studied or presented to the scholarly community. These range from photo­graphs of individual artefacts — for example, funerary stelae, inscriptions, and pottery sherds to field notes and photos of excavations. This article briefly presents the material in the Dörner archive at the Forschungsstelle, with a particular focus on the documents pertaining to two surveys in coastal Bithynia, Paphlagonia, and Pontus conducted in 1961 and 1962 and Dörner’s work at Arsameia-on-theNymphaios in Commagene. As the study of this material is still in progress, the chapter reflects upon the untapped research potential of this collection and examines these two regions through Dörner’s eyes.

Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor Friedrich Karl Dörner founded the Forschungsstelle at Münster in 1971 as a base for his diverse activities in Turkey.1 Since then, it has evolved into one of the most prolific centres for research in the ancient heritage of Turkey. For fifty years the Forschungsstelle has not only harboured various fieldwork projects, but also facilitated scholarly exchange between Turkey and Germany. Moreover, since 1990 more than a hundred volumes have appeared in a book series edited by the centre and dedicated to all aspects of ancient Turkey, the Asia Minor Studien. The Forschungsstelle was and still is part of the Department of Ancient History at Münster Uni­ver­sity, but from the beginning, its character has been interdisciplinary, bringing together archaeo­logists, epi­graphers, and historians. When the Forschungsstelle was founded, Dörner could already look back to almost three decades of research in ancient Turkey. Born in Gelsenkirchen in 1911, he took up the study of classics at Greifswald in 1930 and finished with a PhD in 1935. In the following year, Dörner was awarded a prestigious travel grant by the German Archaeo­logical Institute. During the yearlong trip, he came to Turkey for the first time in 1937. Subsequently, from 1938–1940, he took up a position as research fellow at the German Archaeo­logical Institute in Istanbul. During this time, he started the exploration of Commagene and Bithynia, two regions that remained the focus of his scientific work for the rest of his life. After World War II, in which he served in the German Army, Dörner continued his studies as lecturer in 1 

2017.

For a brief history of the Forschungsstelle, see Schwertheim

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 145–159 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130478

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Figure 10.1. Contact print from the Dörner archive (D1961.7 — © Forschungsstelle Asia Minor).

Tübingen and Münster. At the latter university he submitted his habilitation in 1950. The following two decades were dominated by fieldwork. Until 1969, he spent almost every summer in Turkey, either in Commagene or in Bithynia. Late in his career, in 1963, he was appointed extraordinary professor and became full professor in 1965. Dörner retired in 1976, but he continued to run the Forschungsstelle and even resumed fieldwork activities in Turkey. After a gap of fifteen years, he returned to Commagene in 1984 and started a short-lived restoration project on Nemrud Dağ. Dörner died in 1992. Four years earlier, in 1988, his student Elmar Schwertheim succeeded him as director of the Forschungsstelle. He expanded the activities of the centre and established a new research focus on the Troad, where he directed surveys and excavations in Neandria and Alexandria Troas.2 The tradition of research in Commagene was continued by Engelbert Winter, who started fieldwork in Doliche and in the Sanctuary of Jupiter Dolichenus on Dülük Baba Tepesi in 1997.3 In 2009, Nikolaus Zimmermann followed Schwertheim as director of the Forschungsstelle 2  3 

See Schwertheim 2018 with further references. See Winter 2017 with further references.

and added epi­g raphic research in Patara at the Lycian coast to the portfolio of projects. From the start, the Forschungsstelle was conceived of as a place for archiving data generated during travel and fieldwork in Turkey. By now, the centre keeps the documentation of various excavation projects as well as the archives of individual researchers. The core of the holdings is the archive of Dörner, which includes his personal notes, manu­scripts, and communications, as well as the photo­graphic documentation of his fieldwork campaigns in Bithynia and Commagene. In recent years, the systematic classification and digitalization of the archive has become a key objective. The goal is to make all holdings accessible online in the near future. At the same time, Münster Uni­ver­sity has provided new storage rooms that facilitate working with the archives and allow for the integration of additional archives. The latest addition was the archive of Brigitte Freyer-Schauenburg, which includes a systematic survey of Greek and Roman sculpture from museums in Turkey and beyond.

10. Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor

Friedrich Karl Dörner and the Black Sea Friederich Karl Dörner’s interest in Bithynia started early in his career. He conducted his first trips to Bithynia between 1938 and 1940, when he was based at the German Archaeo­logical Institute in Istanbul as a research assistant, and in 1948. His enthusiasm for shedding light on the history and archaeo­logy of Bithynia was also driven by the fact that, until then, not much research had been conducted on the antiquities of this region.4 Dörner funnelled the data collected in these trips into two major contributions to the history and archaeo­logy of this area: Inschriften und Denkmaler aus Bithynien (1941) and Bericht über eine Reise in Bithynien (1952). In the former, Dörner concentrated on the antiquities from the areas of Nicomedia, Prusias ad Hypium, and Prusa — present-day İzmit, Düzce, and Bursa. The latter centred on Prusias ad Hypium and Bithynion-Klaudiopolis — present-day Bolu. These two books offer a systematic overview of the inscriptions retrieved by Dörner during his trips, but do not fail to include other types of archaeo­logical evidence, including architecture and sculpture. Dörner resumed his work in northern Anatolia in the early 1960s. In 1961 and 1962, he conducted two trips to coastal Bithynia, Paphlagonia, and Pontus. Accompanying him was Wolfram Hoepfner, who, thanks to these trips, developed an interest in the south Black Sea coast and would continue to visit the area in later years. The 1961 and 1962 surveys were initially meant to complement and expand the data already accumulated by Dörner in the 1940s for the writing of Tituli Asiae Minoris, vol. iv, dedicated to Bithynia.5 However, most of the information retrieved from these trips was never integrated into this book, though some appeared in other essential works, including, for example Hoepfner’s Herakleia Pontike – Ereğli.6 The archival collection of the Forschungsstelle houses thirty-four film rolls associated with the surveys conducted by Dörner and his team in north Anatolia, a total of 1058 photo­g raphs. These were primarily taken by Dörner himself (twenty-four rolls, 827 photo­graphs), but also by Hoepfner (seven rolls, 171 photo­graphs) and Theresa Goell (two rolls, sixty-one photo­g raphs). Of these photo­graphs, 419 (fourteen film rolls) were taken in 1961 and 476 (fourteen film rolls) in 1962. Goell’s 4 

Dörner 1941, 2. Dörner 1963, 30. This was published in 1978. Dörner 1978. 6  Hoepfner 1966; see also Hoepfner 1972. 5 

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photos were shot in 1963, most likely in Germany,7 while the vast majority of the photo­graphs taken by Hoepfner pertain to a visit to ancient Heraclea Pontica — presentday Ereğli — in 1964. The photo­graphers used ADOX KB 17 (35 mm) B&W print films that was later developed to produce contact prints — photo­graphic images developed from film rolls but not enlarged. Each contact print was then glued to a rigid piece of cardboard and assigned a title. The titles include the year and place in which the photo­g raphs were taken and the number of the roll from which they were developed (Fig.  10.1). However, the vast majority of these photo­g raphs were never fully printed. This collection is far from complete. At least ten rolls of film are missing from the 1961 survey and three from 1962; only one film roll might be missing from the Goell collection, but at least eight film rolls are missing from Hoepfner 1964’s survey at Ereğli. Therefore, the original photo­g raphic collection must have exceeded 1700 photo­graphs.8 Despite these gaps in the documentation, the remaining photo­graphs are invaluable for the researcher, as they offer important insights into the history and archaeo­ logy of a region that, after the 1960s, underwent significant changes as a result of urbanization and industrialization. After this date, villages and cities changed abruptly, and so did the remains of their past, which were gradually devoured by the construction of new buildings. The Bithynia visited by Dörner and Hoepfner in the early 1960s was dramatically different from today’s. Consequently, in addition to their research potential, the photo­g raphs of the Dörner archive have the added value of depicting a region that no longer exists. Tracking Dörner’s Travels in the Black Sea It is possible to approximate the course of the trip conducted by Dörner and Hoepfner based on the sequence of photo­graphs in the archive and the titles of the contact prints (Fig.  10.2). General notes on their travel routes, which were published in a number of preliminary reports, are also helpful and complement this information.9 However, one should note that the exact location 7  Hoepfner and Goell’s photo­g raphs were clearly marked, and their names appear on the pieces of cardboard. 8  This is a conservative estimate based on an average of thirtyone photo­g raphs per film roll. The current location of the missing rolls is unknown. 9  Dörner 1963, 30; 1964, 133. To date, no field notes associated

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Figure 10.2. Main travel routes and sites visited by Dörner and Hoepfner in 1961 and 1962 in coastal Bithynia and Paphlagonia (Map by Emanuele E. Intagliata).

of most of the monuments, artefacts, and inscriptions documented by Dörner and Hoepfner in their photo­ graphs is still difficult to pinpoint, given the absence of field notes in the archive. The 1961 survey started in the area of Düzce and then moved towards the coast, where the travellers made Akçakoca their base as they surveyed the river valleys opening onto the Black Sea. The first six film rolls associated with this survey are not preserved in the archive, making it difficult to follow their initial movements. In his preliminary report, Dörner describes finds at Dariye Yürükler Köyü, Akçakoca, Aftun Dere Köyü, and Akkaya. These consist of inscriptions and a number of architectural and sculptural elements, including the base of a statue of Cybele, photo­graphs of which are preserved in the archive. The travellers then moved to Ereğli, ancient Herakleia Pontika, where they remained until the end of their stay. At Ereğli, Dörner and Hoepfner documented the widespread phenomenon of reusing classical architecture and sculpture in medi­e val and modern buildings. They also visited the areas surrounding the city — including the Acherontal — with the help of local guides. The 1962 route began at Kendira. From there, the travellers were able to visit Şile, Kerpe, and the villages of Kumluköy and Hocaköy. At Kendira, Dörner with these two trips have been found in the archive.

also received permission to visit the remains at Kefken Adası — ancient Apollonia/Thynias/Daphnusia, an island that otherwise has received little attention from archaeo­logists. At Kefken Adası, the travellers sketched a plan of the visible remains at the site and collected a large quantity of pottery dating from the Hellenistic to the Ottoman period.10 They were also allowed to visit the private collection of the island’s lighthouse keeper, which included capitals, one inscription, and various bulk finds. It seems that a Hellenistic black-slipped jug was photo­g raphed after the visit to Kefken Adası, and the rest of the artefacts were photo­g raphed in 1963 by Theresa Goell. Thus, it is likely that this material was acquired from the lighthouse keeper and then brought to Europe.11 The travellers then proceeded to İzmir and Düzce. They followed the route already taken in 1961 to reach Ereğli. The stay at Ereğli allowed Dörner and Hoepfner to expand the pool of data they collected previously and to visit the remains in nearby Kilisecik, a small harbour that would be excavated in 1963. The survey then continued to Amasra, Sinope, Trabzon, Maçka, 10 

The preliminary results of this short trip were later published in an article on the antiquities of the island. Dörner and Hoepfner 1989. 11   The current locations of these artefacts are, however, unknown.

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and the Sumela monastery, which was the easternmost stop of the trip. On their way across Paphlagonia and Pontus, Dörner and Ho epfner a lso pause d at Devrek, Eskipazar — ancient Hadrianopolis, and Taşköprü — ancient Pom­ peio­polis. In 1963, the two conducted a third trip in the region, during which the remains at Kilisecik were excavated and documented.12 However, the archive does not contain docu- Figure 10.3. Breakdown of the photo­graphs of the 1960s surveys by subject (Graph by Emanuele E. Intagliata). ments related to this survey. One year later, Hoepfner revisited Ereğli and produced tery and coins. The rests depict landscapes, people, and a collection of film rolls, several of which are now premodern buildings (Fig. 10.3). served at the Forschungsstelle. In their photo­g raphic hunt for antiquities, the travellers first looked for displaced elements embedded in modern buildings or asked permission to enter private Dörner’s Perception of the Black Sea properties or collections. Their search was not systematic As opposed to modern digital photo­g raphy, in which but driven by their research interests and expertise. thousands of pictures can be stored on a single memory After being copied and measured, inscriptions were card and instantly reviewed after shooting, analogue photo­graphed at least twice — if small or medium-sized photo­g raphy relied on film rolls that could accom— or more — if larger or located in areas that were diffimodate a limited number of pictures — approxicult to reach and thus were photo­graphed from a distant mately thirty-five to thirty-six in ADOX KB 17 rolls. viewpoint. Photos of inscriptions, 125 in total, make up Furthermore, in analogue photography, pictures cannot 12 per cent of the archival collection. Most of the fortybe reviewed immediately after being taken, nor can they six inscriptions recorded during the 1961 and 1962 cambe deleted. Consequently, if the photo­g rapher deemed paigns were pre-fourth century ad, reflecting Dörner’s a subject important, more than one picture was generprimary academic interests. However, there are excepally taken. The tendency to take multiple photo­g raphs tions. These include, for example, the 10 m long inscripof the same subject or object, which frequently recurs tion of David Comnenos, reporting the construction in the archive, provides insights into what Dörner conof a tower in the city walls of Ereğli in 1206 — photo­ sidered important and worthy of documentation. This graphed six times — and the thirteenth-century inscripincludes antiquities, but also landscapes, people, and tion commemorating the imperial secretary Basileios modern buildings. With this in mind, in this section, we Chrysomallos — photo­g raphed only once — also at will briefly review the photo­graphs in this archival colEreğli.13 Conversely, no post-Byzantine epi­g raphs were lection to attempt to see the Black Sea coast thorough systematically documented during these surveys.14 Dörner’s eyes. The aim of the trips to the southern Black Sea coast 13   Inv. nos  D1962.8.64–74, D1961.19.39–40. See Jonnes was to collect evidence on the history and archaeo­logy of 1994, 24 (n. 35 — Basileios Chrysomallos); 25 (n. 38 — David coastal Bithynia, Paphlagonia, and — to a lesser extent Comnenos), with extensive biblio­graphy. — Pontus. Of the 1058 photo­graphs in the archive, over 14  This was deliberate. In 1961, for example, the travellers visited 740 illustrate objects ranging from inscriptions to pot12 

Hoepfner 1972, 50–58.

an Ottoman cemetery on a hill close to Ereğli. They took general pictures of the area, particularly the view of the city from the hill (D1961.7.65–72), but failed to document the stelae of the cemetery.

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Figure 10.4. Selected pictures with people as subjects: a. An artisan working in his shop at Amasra (DS1961.11.21–22); b. Boys being taught the Quran in a mosque at Ereğli (D1961.13.28–29); c. Horse riders near Kilisecik (D1962.7.6–7); d. Street vendors at Ereğli (D1962.10.18–19) (© Forschungsstelle Asia Minor).

Pictures of displaced architectural elements abound and represent the most photo­g raphed category in the archive (20 per cent). Primarily, these include the decorated sides of capitals, column bases, and cornices. Unfinished, plain sides were rarely documented. A similar preference for decorated sides can be noted in the photo­g raphs of sculptural elements (13 per cent, 135 pictures), such as statues and funerary portraits. Photos of the latter are numerous in the archive, with several of these objects photo­graphed more than twice. A curious case study is represented by a rectangular funerary stela depicting a man wearing a toga shown in the act of distributing food (possibly bread) to two smaller figures. The stela, which is uninscribed and was found by Dörner at Ereğli, was photo­graphed eleven times.15 Post-classical 15  The stela does not appear in Hoepfner’s work of 1966 and 1972. Surprisingly, it is absent in the more recent archaeo­logical catalogue of Akkaia (1994).

sculptural elements were also photo­g raphed whenever possible but not subject to systemic searches. At Amasra, for example, Dörner photo­g raphed only a few of the Genoese heraldic inscriptions and reliefs known in the city.16 These include the reliefs of the coat of arms of Genoa and the Poggio and Malaspina families above the citadel gate, which were photo­graphed twice. The majority of the photo­g raphs that depict stillstanding ancient architecture were taken at Ereğli. Hoepfner and Dörner took particular care to document the still-visible remains of the Roman and Byzantine city walls. These were later used in Hoepfner’s major work on the history and archaeo­logy of this city.17 Hellenistic and classical remains were again preferred subjects in Hoepfner and Dörner’s photo­g raphs. For example, in 16  17 

D1962.12.16–19. See Hasluck 1910, 138–39 with literature. Hoepfner 1966.

10. Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor their short report on Kefken Adası, the two scholars report that most of the remains of fortification walls surrounding the island were Byzantine, and only in the north was classical or Hellenistic masonry preserved.18 Nevertheless, five out of eight photos associated with this monument are of a single Hellenistic stretch of wall.19 In the category ‘other finds’ (Fig.  10.3), we have included photo­g raphs of artefacts like small statuettes, glass, pottery, coins, and mosaics.20 This type of artefacts was generally photo­graphed only once. There are, however, exceptions to this trend. The most striking of these is a fourth-century bc black-slipped jug showing an eros sleeping by a crater, which was photo­graphed from different angles eight times.21 The vast majority of photo­ graphs from this group (fifty-seven pictures) pertain to Byzantine glazed pottery collected at Kefken Adası 1962. These sherds were photo­g raphed front and back on a white background, and the images also depict a ruler that was used as a scale by Goell. Notes made by Goell directly on the contact prints include the year of the find and a progressive number — likely related to inventory. This suggests that there was probably an intention to publish this material systematically at a later date. Landscapes are the second most represented group of photo­graphs in the archive (18 per cent, 189 photo­ graphs). These were mostly taken to remind the travellers of the aspect or location of certain sites, such as Ereğli, Amasra, and Trabzon. However, the majority were shot as mementoes of their travel. Unsurprisingly, most of the photo­graphs in this category were taken in Paphlagonia and, in particular, the Pontus, which were relatively unexplored regions for these scholars. Scenery, such as the crossing of the Zigana pass in the area of Trabzon or the monastery of Sumela, was often photo­graphed more than once. Perhaps the most curious set of photo­g raphs associated with these surveys depict people (10 per cent, 103 photos). These include artisans and fishermen at work; 18 

Dörner and Hoepfner 1989, 105. Inv. no. D1962.1.64–76. One of them, D1962.1.68–70, was published (Dörner and Hoepfner 1989, taf. 1). 20  The photo­g raphs taken by Dörner of small or bulk finds are often of complete artefacts — for example entire vessels — or decorated fragments. The category ‘other finds’ in Fig. 10.3 also includes eleven images (D1961.8.23–44) of two mosaics found in cave 1 of the Acherontal (Ereğli) and in the city centre at Ereğli. The mosaics were later published by Hoepfner (1966, 92–93; 1972, 43 and taf. 1). 21  This find, which is from Kefken Adası, was later published (Dörner and Hoepfner 1989, 105 and taf. 2–3). 19 

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teachers giving lessons in mosques; children playing, studying, and going to school; street vendors; lively scenes in bazaars; women talking or posing; and curious passers-by, whose identities are now lost (Fig. 10.4). These snapshots show the everyday life of the Turkish communities along the southern Black Sea coast and reveal the interest of Dörner in its people. The ethno­ graphic curiosity of Dörner is evident in other documents housed in this archive — mainly photos of modern buildings (2 per cent, twenty-two photo­graphs). In one particular case, Dörner photo­graphed six times and from the same angle a wooden door that was scribbled over with chalk by local children.22 A quick glimpse at the material in the archive of the Forschungsstelle suggests that the travellers were predominantly interested in inscriptions, architectural elements, sculpture, and the remaining architecture of the classical past. Pre-classical and medi­e val archaeo­logical evidence was rarely documented. In addition, with several exceptions, Dörner and Hoepfner were not concerned with bulk finds such as pottery or glass, which were often documented if decorated or in an excellent state of preservation. This reflects the common academic trend in classical archaeo­logy of that time. However, despite the fact that the aim of the travellers was driven by research, it is evident that the southern Black Sea coast was not simply considered a hunting ground for antiquities by Dörner and his team. The photo­graphs in the archive suggest that connecting with local communities was not merely a way to find unpublished material but to try to understand contemporary Turkey and the everyday lives of its people.

Commagene Throughout his career, Dörner’s main area of interest besides Bithynia was the Hellenistic kingdom of Commagene, a region between the Taurus Mountains and the Euphrates River in modern south-east Turkey.23 After his first research trip to Commagene in 1938,24 he returned in 1951 with the plan to continue the exploration of the famous tomb sanctuary of King Antiochos I of Commagene on Nemrud Dağ.  At that time, the region was still very isolated and few scholars had vis22 D1962.5.46–58. 23  For the history and archaeo­logy of Commagene, see Facella 2006; Blömer and Winter 2012; Brijder 2014; Versluys 2017; Blömer and others 2021. 24  Dörner and Naumann 1939.

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Fi e l d w o r k a t b o t h sites started in 1953. In Arsameia, Dörner focused on the exploration of the processional way that led up to the plateau of Eski Kale. Along this way, three stations were fitted with installations, reliefs, and inscriptions, which shed new light on Commagene and the deeds of King Antiochos I. In 1956 Dörner concluded the work . He returned briefly in 1958, but in this period his interest had shifted back to Bithynia. Work in Commagene was resumed only in 1963 with a new project that targeted the Hellenistic occupation on the top of Eski Kale. Figure 10.5. Theresa Goell and Friedrich K. Dörner in the excavation camp at Eski Kăhta in 1954 the same time, the team At (© Forschungsstelle Asia Minor). extended the scope of the project both chrono­ and spatially. On the one l ogically ited the monument after the first publications by Otto hand, architects and archaeo­logists started to investigate Puchstein, Carl Humann, Osman Hamdi Bey, and the adjacent Mamluk castle, which occupied the second Osgan Effendi.25 However, before Dörner arrived at peak of Arsameia. On the other hand, the team set their Nemrud Dağ, a farmer pointed him to another, so far sights on the surrounding region and engaged in test unknown site, where a relief had recently been dug up. excavations at various sites in the immediate vicinity of This was Eski Kale (old castle), a prominent hill next to Arsameia. The main goal here was to explore the area of the Mamluk fortress Yeni Kale (new castle) and adjacent the Hellenistic city. After six campaigns, 1963–1965 and to the village of Eski Kahta. The site turned out to be 1967–1969, Dörner had to cease working in Arsameia Arsameia-on-the-Nymphaios, the burial place of King because of lack of funding, but also worsening relations Mithradates I, father of Antiochos I. with Turkish authorities and internal quarrels. Despite the importance of the new discovery, The results of fieldwork in this period have been pubDörner’s top priority was still Nemrud Dağ, but he soon lished in preliminary reports that came out in 1965, 1966, learned that the American archaeo­logist Theresa Goell 26 and 1970.27 Dörner mentioned variously that a full pubhad similar plans. Without knowing of each other, lication was in preparation, but it never appeared. One both Goell and Dörner had visited Nemrud Dag in 1951 reason was the growing discord between Dörner and and applied to the Turkish Department of Antiquities Goell. Their initial agreement stipulated that they would for a permit to conduct excavations at the site. After be equally responsible for the publication of the results prolonged negotiations they agreed to collaborate, with achieved in Arsameia and Nemrud Dağ. A first volume Goell being in charge of Nemrud Dağ and Dörner of the of the final reports of the excavations at Arsameia, which new site of Arsameia (Fig. 10.5). focused on the results of the 1953–1956 campaigns, was indeed published in 1963 as a collaborative effort.28 25   Puchstein 1883; Hamdi and Effendi 1883; Human and Puchstein 1890. 26  For Theresa Goell, see Sanders and Gill 2004.

27  Dörner and others 1965; Hoepfner 1966; Dörner 1966a; Dörner 1969/1970. 28  Dörner and Goell 1963.

10. Archive Archaeo­logy at the Forschungsstelle Asia Minor Further volumes were planned, among them the publication of Nemrud Dağ, but in the 1960s the relationship between Goell and Dörner started to deteriorate. They accused each other of stalling the publication process and intriguing. Tensions increased after Dörner had to give up active fieldwork in Turkey. He continued to publish on Commagene, Arsameia, and Nemrud Dağ, but mainly for a more general public.29 In the Arsameia series only one further final publication appeared in 1983, a concise study of the hierothesion of Mithridates I and its architecture by Wolfram Hoepfner.30 The contributions for the final Nemrud Dağ publication, some of which had been written in the late 1950s, were published only in 1996 after both Goell and Dörner had died.31 In the end a significant portion of the results of the excavations at Arsameia in the 1960s were never fully published. Apart from the quarrels between Dörner and Goell, the lack of interest in a full publication seems to have been exacerbated by the nature of the results achieved. The first campaigns in the 1950s had yielded spectacular monuments and inscriptions that attracted considerable international attention and changed the perception of Commagene in academia. In the second phase of the project, the character of the results was different. The excavation of the plateau of Arsameia significantly improved the understanding of the layout and character of the tomb sanctuary and some outstanding pieces of sculpture were discovered, but later occupation and erosion had severely damaged the Hellenistic buildings.32 More serious was that Dörner’s assumptions about the city area of Arsameia did not prove true. In the main cult inscription of the hierothesion, which he had identified in 1951, King Antiochos I portrays Arsameia as a city which he expanded and embellished with royal palaces. 33 Dörner’s main goal was the discovery and exploration of that city. Ultimately, however, the team failed to find any traces of it. Neither the excavations in the Mamluk fortress nor at any other place in the vicin29  

Dörner 1975; Dörner 1981. A  second amended edition of the latter book came out in 1987. It is not only an overview of Commagene and the history of research, but also has strong bio­ graphical overtones. 30  Hoepfner 1983. 31  Letters kept in the Dörner archive shed light on the long and protracted way to the publication, which since 1984 was coordinated by Donald H. Sanders, who worked another twelve years on the preparation of the manu­scripts for printing. 32  Hoepfner 1981; Oenbrink 2017. 33  Dörner and Goell 1963, 36–59.

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ity of the hierothesion revealed remains of Hellenistic occupation to speak of. Likewise, it was not possible to substantiate the assumption that a noteworthy pre-Hellenistic settlement existed at Arsameia. Apart from the buildings and monuments related to the hierothesion, the bulk of evidence at all sites examined pertained to the late antique and medi­eval periods. In 1963 and 1964, substantial resources went into the investigation of the so-called ‘iron field’, an area where surface finds of slag indicated large-scale iron production. 34 The excavations revealed bloomeries and furnaces, but the datable finds pointed to a medi­eval date. Nevertheless, Dörner suggested that Arsameia was a centre of iron production already in the Hellenistic period, but in the end the flimsy remains were not substantial enough to arrest attention.35 In 1965, the main focus of the campaign shifted to the ‘mosaic field’, an area further down the Nymphaios River, where a mosaic had been located in 1963 (see below). In addition to the hierothesion, the Mamluk fortress, the ‘iron field’, and the ‘mosaic field’, small-scale soundings were undertaken at sites further away. At most of them archaeo­logical remains of medi­eval date prevailed, in some instances prehistoric features were studied. 36 Overall, the campaigns at Arsameia during the 1960s added much to the understanding of the architecture of the tomb sanctuary of Mithridates I at Eski Kale, but beyond that they were mainly successful in collecting evidence for the development of Commagene in the late antique and medi­eval period. Dörner clearly supported the investigation and documentation of this evidence, but his personal interest always was in the Hellenistic city, which, however, remained elusive. It must therefore not surprise that there was little incentive to press ahead with the study of the excavation results after the Arsameia project stalled. Disagreements with members of the excavation team posed additional hurdles to a publication. From a contemporary perspective, the lack of information about the excavation results is regrettable, because little is known about the development of the 34 

Dörner and others 1965, 222–31. Dörner 1965; Dörner 1966b. 36  Dörner 1969/1970, 276–86. Among these minor projects was the drilling of the Karakuş tumulus, which generated some public attention, but little usable results, see Dörner 1969/1970, 266–76; Blömer and Winter 2012, 99. In this period, Dörner and his team travelled through the wider region and took pictures of sites and monuments. 35 

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Figure 10.6. Main sites explored by Dörner and his team in the vicinity of Arsameia (Map by Michael Blömer).

northernmost tip of ancient Syria after the demise of the Hellenistic kingdom of Commagene. Over the last thirty years, the exploration of Late Antiquity has flourished in many areas of north Syria and changed the perception of this period, but Commagene still is a blank spot on the map of the late ancient world. It is therefore to be hoped that a systematic investigation of the Dörner archive can close some of the gaps and shed new light on the development of the region and its material culture from Late Antiquity to the Mamluk period. The ‘mosaic field’, the main focus of the 1965 campaign, may serve as an example to illustrate the potential of the unpublished material. Reassessing Dörner’s Work at Arsameia on the Nymphaios in 1965 In 1963, shepherds had found a Bronze Age cylinder seal in an area at the eastern banks of the Nymphaios River south-west of Arsameia at a distance of approx-

imately one kilometre from Eski Kale/Arsameia (Fig. 10.6).37 When the German team visited the site, they observed concentrations of mosaic tesserae. A first test trench was laid out immediately and a mosaic floor as well as hypocausts showed up. 38 Dörner was excited about the discovery, because he and his team considered the mosaic floor of late Hellenistic date. The ‘mosaic field’, as the area was dubbed by Dörner, finally seemed to open up an opportunity to explore a part of the urban area of Hellenistic Arsameia. Moreover, the find of a Bronze Age seal suggested the presence of earlier phases of occupation. 39 Dörner secured new funding and in 1965, large-scale excavations started in the ‘mosaic field’ (Fig. 10.7). 37 

For the seal, see Moortgart-Correns 1965. Dörner and others 1965, 231. 39  On the cylinder seal, see Moortgart-Correns 1965. 38 

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Figure 10.7. Photograph of the ‘mosaic field’ taken during the campaign of 1965 (© Forschungsstelle Asia Minor).

As was to be expected, a bath complex came to light. Various rooms, some of which were equipped with a hypocaust underfloor heating, and a praefurnium were examined. The excavators distinguished different phases of use and reuse of the complex. Large test trenches in the adjacent areas showed that whole area was densely occupied. Shortly after the campaign, Dörner briefly discussed the results in a preliminary report.40 A key question was if the baths and the other structures discovered at the ‘mosaic field’ could be interpreted as parts of the city of Arsameia. In the report, Dörner did not support this claim, but he suggested that it was a peripheral zone with villas and, later, workshops and industrial installations.41 However, he still proposed a late Hellenistic– Early Roman date for the mosaic, although in a more cautious way and implied that the baths were contemporary with the Hellenistic phase of Arsameia.42 Yet,

the report contains only one picture and no maps of the excavated areas. This made it impossible to assess the validity of Dörner’s interpretations. In his later publications on Arsameia and Commagene, he does not mention the excavations of the ‘mosaic field’ at all. While the ‘iron field’ and the story of Commagene as a centre of iron production was perpetuated, the baths sunk into complete oblivion.43 The Dörner archive, however, includes material related to the excavation on the ‘mosaic field’ and offers an opportunity to review the results of fieldwork in 1965. Unfortunately, it does not seem to contain the full documentation of the excavations. It appears that a substantial portion has remained with the excavators who were supposed to publish the material. Most notable is the absence of field notes and maps, but also of informa43   The

40 

The report has been published twice in identical form, see Dörner 1966a, 134–39; Dörner 1968, 37–41. 41  Dörner 1966a, 138–39. 42  Dörner 1966a, 135.

excavations in the baths were supervised by Erika Brödner, who specialized in the history and archaeo­logy of Roman bathing. In a popular book on ancient baths she refers twice to baths near Arsameia and maintains the late Hellenistic date of the mosaic and the baths, cf. Brödner 1983, 21.131. MB is grateful to Fynn Riepe for pointing me to this fact.

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Figure 10.8. Detail of the mosaic discovered in the ‘mosaic field’ in 1965 (© Forschungsstelle Asia Minor).

tion concerning finds. The incomplete record precludes a full examination of the evidence, but it certainly allows for a general reassessment. If we take the mosaic, for example, the pictures of it in the archive make it possible to revise the Hellenistic dating proposed by the excavators (Fig. 10.8). The simple pattern consisting of overlapping octagons filled with squares certainly has predecessors in the Late Hellenistic and Early Roman period, but much better comparisons can be found in late antique mosaic floors of north Syria. 44 A late date is also supported by the simple and careless execution, the crude borders that consist of very large white tesserae, and the construction of the surrounding walls. It is also hardly conceivable that a bath building with hypocausts existed in Commagene in the Late Hellenistic period, when Roman influence was still very limited. Consequently, there can be little doubt that the bath building was constructed in Late Antiquity. Further studies of the adjacent structures are necessary to determine the context of the baths, but it might have been part of a large estate or village. The new dating of the complex has repercussions for the general assessment of Arsameia. It supports the idea that contrary to what King Antiochos I proclaimed and Dörner believed the Hellenistic site cannot be con44  See, for example, the pattern Campbell 2005, 86 no. 28b, which is attested in various buildings of Antioch dating between the fourth and sixth centuries ad.

sidered urban. The data at hand suggests that it was a fortified residence (the location of which still needs to be identified) and the tomb sanctuary of Mithridates I. In the Roman period, the rural character of the settlement was even more pronounced. A new phase of flourishing seems to have started in Late Antiquity. The results of the Arsameia suggest that population density and land use peaked in this period and hardly abated in the following centuries. Looking at Commagene through Dörner’s Eyes For the study of Commagene the Dörner archive is important for various reasons. The most obvious is the unpublished material from the excavations at Arsameia and Nemrud Dağ, which can be used to illuminate details of the fieldwork, which so far have not arrested much attention. Moreover, the pictures and notes taken by Dörner and his team during visits at other sites of the region are of great value, because the archaeo­logical exploration of the region has largely stalled after the 1960s. However, it is also important to note that Dörner was not only concerned with antiquities and the ancient history of Commagene. His writings and even more so his photo­graphs betray his fascination for the people living in the contemporary villages around Arsameia. With a quasi-ethno­graphical impetus, he tried to capture their life. Among the photo­g raphs taken by himself, a large

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efforts is still palpable today. More than fifty years after fieldwork in Arsameia ceased and thirty years after his death, Dörner still is deeply entrenched in the memory of the villagers, he has become a mythical figure. Stories about him have been passed over generations and people will proudly talk about family members who once worked for him.46 To conclude, the archives offer not only the opportunity to study ancient Commagene, but also Dörner’s complex relationship with contemporary south-east Turkey, which oscillated between orientalist tropes, prejudices, and a deeply felt fascination for the other, for a notion of life in a premodern world. While this approach and mindset was not at all unique, it was remarkable in a period when archaeo­logical expeditions in the wider region had started retracting from colonialist and orientalist concepts. In remote Commagene, however, Dörner still preserved an approach that was rooted in the tradition of nineteenth-century expeditions to the Near East. It is to be hoped that future studies will further elucidate Dörner’s complex and often contradictory relationship with the people of contemporary Commagene and Turkey in general.

Conclusions

percentage is not concerned with ancient monuments, but with village people and the — in his words — heroic landscape of Commagene (Fig. 10.9). There are even various magnetic tapes with songs and recitations in Kurdish, which Dörner recorded during his stays. Thus, the archive sheds light on the life of the isolated rural communities in the Taurus Mountains in the 1950s and 1960s, but also exposes the Western gaze at these village societies at the verge of modernity. The archive also conveys a good impression of Dörner’s self-image. He presented himself as a father figure and benefactor of the village people, supplying medical assistance and support for the local population and spending considerable efforts to improve the water supply for the village of Eski Kahta.45 The legacy of his

The aim of this chapter was to provide the reader with an introduction to the archival collections at the Forschungsstelle, Uni­ver­sity of Münster, with particular focus on works of Friedrich Karl Dörner in Bithynia/ Paphlagonia and Commagene. It has explored the potential of this archive for further works and examined how Dörner perceived these regions based on the photo­graphic collections and other records kept in this research centre. The vast set of photo­g raphic data produced by Dörner and his team during their surveys in Bithynia/ Paphlagonia has allowed us to follow in detail the routes undertaken in 1961 and 1962 in north-west Anatolia. Although some of the archaeo­logical material photo­ graphed during these fieldworks was published by this scholar and his pupils, there is much that has not found its way into Dörner’s written works and deserves further studies. In addition to confirming Dörner’s research interests, a quantitative analysis of the subjects of these

45  This self-image also pervades the narrative of his popular account of the history of research in Commagene, Dörner 1981. Very illuminating in this regard is also the description of life during the excavations published by his wife Eleonore Dörner, see Dörner 1983.

46   The positive image of Dörner contrasts sharply with an increasingly negative perception of Theresa Goell, which is an interesting phenomenon that requires a more thorough analysis.

Figure 10.9. Woman preparing food and tea in Eski Kăhta in 1956 (D1956.5.5) (© Forschungsstelle Asia Minor).

158 photo­g raphs has also highlighted Dörner’s fascination with contemporary Turkey and its people. Equally illuminating for the scope of this chapter was the examination of the material produced by Dörner in south-east Anatolia. Dörner was the most prolific scholar working in Commagene. He dedicated much of his life to the study of the monuments and directed fieldwork at Arsameia-on-the-Nymphaios for almost two decades. However, for various reasons substantial parts of the fieldwork in Arsameia remained unpublished. The study of the Dörner archive offers the opportunity to fill some of the gaps in our knowledge. A systematic reassessment of the unpublished material promises to improve our knowledge of these areas which are crucial for a better understanding of Arsameia as a multi-period settlement. Already a quick look at this material has shown that it is necessary to revise some of the interpretations brought forward by Dörner and his team. Most importantly, there seems to be much less evidence for an urban settlement in the Hellenistic period than has been suggested. Instead, Late Antiquity emerges as a largely overlooked period in which the region of Arsameia flourished.

Michael Blömer and Emanuele E. Intagliata

Acknowledgements Portions of this work were funded by the Danish National Research Foundation under the grant DNRF119 — Centre of Excellence for Urban Network Evolutions (UrbNet).

Works Cited Blömer, M. and E. Winter. 2012. Commagene: The Land of Gods between Taurus and Euphrates (Istanbul: Ege Yayınları). Blömer, M. and others (eds). 2021. Common Dwelling Place of All the Gods: Commagene in its Local, Regional, and Global Context, Oriens et Occidens, 34 (Stuttgart: Steiner). Brijder, H. A. G. 2014. Nemrud Dağı: Recent Archaeo­logical Research and Conservation Activities in the Tomb Sanctuary on Mount Nemrud (Berlin: De Gruyter). Brödner, E. 1983. Die römischen Thermen und das antike Badewesen: Eine kulturhistorische Betrachtung (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft). Dörner, E. 1983. Bei den Gottkönigen in Kommagene: Erlebnisse in einem deutschen Ausgrabungslager im Osten der Türkei (Melle: Knoth). Dörner, F. K. 1941. Inschriften und Denkmäler aus Bithynien, Istanbuler Forschungen, 14 (Berlin: Roher). —— . 1952. Bericht über eine Reise in Bithynien: Ausgeführt im Jahre 1948 im Auftrage der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften (Vienna: Rohrer). —— . 1962. ‘Vorbericht über eine im Herbst 1961 ausgeführte Reise in Bithynien’, Anzeiger der phil.-hist. Klasse der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Jahrgang, 99: 30–35.

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—— . 1963. ‘Vorbericht über eine Reise in Bithynien und im bithynisch-paphlagonischen Grenzgebiet 1962’, Anzeiger der phil.-hist. Klasse der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Jahrgang, 100: 132–39. —— . 1965. ‘Kommagene. Das Land – ubi ferrum nascitur’, Anzeiger der phil.-hist. Klasse der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissen­ schaften, Jahrgang, 102: 1–7. —— . 1966a. ‘Arsameia am Nymphaios. Bericht über die Grabungskampagne 1965’, Istanbuler Mitteilungen, 16: 130–56. —— . 1966b. ‘Kleinasien – Ursprungsland des Eisens? Bericht über Ausgrabungen in Kommagene’, Stahl und Eisen, 86: 1–7. —— . 1968. ‘Arsameia am Nymphaios. Bericht über die Grabungskampagne 1965’, Türk Arkeoloji Dergisi, 15: 35–54. —— . 1969/1970. ‘Kommagene: Forschungsarbeiten von 1967 bis 1969; Mit Beiträgen von Klemens Böhne, Wolfram Höpfner, Erwin Lucius und Eckart Fr. Schneider’, Istanbuler Mitteilungen, 19–20: 255–88. —— (ed.). 1975. Kommagene: Geschichte und Kultur einer antiken Landschaft, Antike Welt Sondernummer, 6 (Küsnacht: Raggi). —— . 1981. Kommagene: Götterthrone und Königsgräber am Euphrat (Bergisch Gladbach: Lübbe). Dörner, F. K. and R. Naumann. 1939. Forschungen in Kommagene, Istanbuler Forschungen, 10 (Berlin: Deutsches Archäo­logisches Institut). Dörner, F.  K. and T.  Goell. 1963. Arsameia am Nymphaios: Die Ausgrabungen im Hierothesion des Mithradates Kallinikos von 1953–1956 (Berlin: Mann). Dörner, F. K. and others. 1965. ‘Arsameia am Nymphaios. Bericht über die 1963 und 1964 ausgeführten Ausgrabungen’, Archäo­ logischer Anzeiger, 1965: 188–235. Dörner, F. K. and W. Hoepfner. 1989. ‘Das Eiland Thynias – Apollonia’, Istanbuler Mitteilungen, 39: 103–07. Dörner, F. K. and M.-B. Von Stritzky. 1978. Tituli Asiae Minoris: collecti et editi auspiciis academiae litterarum austriacae, i.4: Tituli Bithyniae – Linguis Graeca et Latina conscripti, Paeninsula Bithynica, praeter Calchedonem, Nicomedia et Ager Nicomedensis cum septentrionali meridianoque litore sinus astaceni et cum lacu sumonensi (Vienna: Apud Academiam Scientiarum Austriacam). Facella, M. 2006. La dinastia degli Orontidi nella Commagene Ellenistico-Romana (Pisa: Giardini). Hamdi, O. and O. Effendi. 1883. Le tumulus de Nemroud-Dagh: voyage, description, inscriptions (Istanbul: Loeffler). Haskluk. F. W. 1910. ‘Genoese Heraldry and Inscriptions at Amastra’, Annual of the British School at Athens, 17: 132–44. Hoepfner, W. 1966. ‘“Das Hierothesion Mithridates” I. von Kommagene. Ergebnisse der jüngsten Ausgrabungen in Arsameia am Nymphaios’, Archäo­logischer Anzeiger, 1966: 528–32. —— . 1972. ‘Topo­graphische Forschungen’, in F. K. Dörner (ed.), Ergänzungsbände zu der Tituli Asiae Minoris N. 5: Forschungen an der Nordküste Kleinasiens, i: Herakleia Pontike, Forschungen zur Geschichte und Topo­graphie (Vienna: Böhlau), pp. 37–61. —— . 1983. Arsameia am Nymphaios, ii: Das Hierothesion des Königs Mithradates I. Kallinikos von Kommagene nach den Ausgrabungen von 1963 bis 1967 (Tübingen: Wasmuth). Humann, C. and O. Puchstein. 1890. Reisen in Kleinasien und Nordsyrien: Ausgeführt im Auftrag der Kgl. Preußischen Akademie der Wissenschaften (Berlin: Reimer). Joannes, L. 1994. The Inscriptions of Heraclea Pontica, with a Prosopo­graphia Heracleotica by Walter Ameling (Bonn: Habelt). Moortgart-Correns, U. 1965. ‘Ein Rollsiegel aus Arsameia’, Zeitschrift für Assyrio­logie und Vorderasiatische Archäo­logie, 57: 6–11. Oenbrink, W. 2017. Die Sakralarchitekture der kommagenischen Hierptheisa and Temene, Dolichener und Kommagenische Forschungen 8, Asia Minor Studien, 83 (Bonn: Habelt). Puchstein, O. 1883. ‘Bericht über eine Reise in Kurdistan’, Sitzungsberichte der Königlich Preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, 1883.1: 29–64. Sanders, D. H. and D. W. J. Gill. 2004. ‘Theresa B. Goell, 1901–1985’, in G. M. Cohen and M. Sharp Joukowsky (eds), Breaking Ground: Pioneering Women Archaeo­logists (Ann Arbor: Uni­ver­sity of Michigan Press), pp. 482–523. Schwertheim, E. 2017. ‘Professor Dr  Friedrich Karl Dörner (1911–1992), die Forschungsstelle Asia Minor und die deutschtürkischen Altertumswissenschaften an der WWU’, in P.  Leidinger and U.  Hillebrandt (eds), Deutsch-Türkische Beziehungen im Jahrhundert zwischen Erstem Weltkrieg und Gegenwart: Grundlagen zu Geschichte und Verständnis beider Länder; 100 Jahre Deutsch-Türkische Gesellschaft Münster (Münster: LIT), pp. 339–45. ———. 2018. Neue Forschungen in Alexandria Troas, Asia Minor Studien, 88 (Bonn: Habelt). Versluys, M. J. 2017. Visual Style and Constructing Identity in the Hellenistic World: Nemrud Dağ and Commagene under Antiochos I (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­sity Press). Winter, E. (ed.). 2017. Vom eisenzeitlichen Heiligtum zum christlichen Kloster: Neue Forschungen auf dem Dülük Baba Tepesi, Dolichener und Kommagenische Forschungen, 10, Asia Minor Forschungen, 84 (Bonn: Habelt).

11. The Site of the Archive: Responsibility and Rhetoric in Archival Archaeol ­ ogy of the Middle East J. A. Baird Birkbeck College, Uni­ver­sity of London

Archaeo­logical Archives More than two decades have now passed since what has been called ‘The Archival Turn’, in which the archive became conceptualized not only as a source of documents, but as a document and object of study in and of itself.1 Like many ‘turns’ in the broader humanities, it has been slow to come to archaeo­logy.2 This, in some ways, is surprising, given that archaeo­logy is so good at producing information, at generating mountains of data that we don’t always do anything with. Recent years have seen a movement towards grappling with that data, motivated in part by the increasing inaccessibility of archaeo­logical sites in conflict regions to Western scholars, and the increasing attention to the potentials of digital platforms for making ‘legacy data’ from early excavations available online. In Syrian archaeo­logy, we have seen a number of ‘digital’ and online projects emerge, including the Danish Palmyra Portrait Project, the UK-based Institute for Digital Archaeo­logy’s 3D-printed reconstruction of Palmyra’s triumphal Arch, as well as large-scale statefunded European projects. 3 These have included for * This paper originated as an invited contribution to the colloquium session on ‘Archive Archaeo­logy’ organized by Rubina Raja, Amy Miranda, and Olympia Bobou at the Annual Meeting of the Archaeo­logical Institute of America ( January 2021). I am grateful to the organizers for the invitation to contribute, and to participants in the session for the questions and comments. I am also deeply grateful and indebted, as always, to the custodians of the Dura-Europos archives at Yale (particularly Susan Matheson and Lisa Brody, who have for many years graciously and generously enabled my work on Dura) and in the Joint Library of the Institute of Classical Studies and the Hellenic and Roman Societies (without the invitations and guidance of Gabriel Bodard, Joanna Ashe, and Paul Jackson, I would have been unaware the Wood collection even existed). The editors, Adnan Almohamad, and Mirjam Brusius all provided helpful feedback on a draft version of this chapter and it is much improved as a result; remaining errors are, of course, mine alone. 1 

Stoler 2002; Stoler 2009. Baird and McFadyen 2014. 3  A recent digital reconstruction as part of the Palmyra Portrait Project can be found in Bobou and others 2020. The Institute for 2 

instance the French Ministry of Culture’s website series on Grands sites archéo­logiques which includes the sites of Dura-Europos and Palmyra in a series on Near Eastern Patrimony, and the Syrian Heritage Archive Project financed by the German Foreign Office.4 Such projects have had a range of receptions, with the IDA’s reconstructed Palmyrene arch drawing particular critique. These critiques have been, in my opinion, well founded, questioning as they do issues around authenticity, memory, audience, and the purpose of ‘reconstruction’.5 Less scrutiny, perhaps, has been given to online archive projects which present Syrian archaeo­logy, often in the form of digital databases, as these are perceived not as an act of curation but simply the proffering of source material. Digital Archaeo­logy’s narrative on the arch can be found on their website [accessed 28 May 2021]. 4   The French project, created in 2016, aims to show the ‘universal’ value of the sites (‘Créée en 2016, la série Patrimoine du Proche-Orient vise à diffuser la connaissance sur les sites du ProcheOrient pour permettre la poursuite des recherches et donner à voir ce que furent ces civilisations et ces sites universels’). . Funded by the French ministry of Culture and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs [accessed 11 June 2021]. The Palmyra showcase there curates a very specific version of Palmyrene history which is largely focused on a Graeco-Roman characterization and French excavations at the sites. It links, for example, to a number of French digital resources including Palmyrene antiquities held in the Louvre, and the Projet Collart-Palmyra, which digitized Collart’s photo­g raphs of the Temple of Baalshamîn at Palmyra (infamously destroyed by ISIS) and hosts a 3D reconstruction of it. [accessed 11 June 2021]. The images from Wood’s publication, discussed later in this chapter, are used on the site as section labels but not cited or credited. On the explicit French policy of ‘scientific diplomacy’ with regard to archaeo­ logical expeditions . Syrian Heritage Archive Project [accessed 28 May 2021]. 5 

Bevan 2016; Kamash 2017; Stobiecka 2020; Munawar 2021, 123.

Archival Historiographies: The Impact of Twentieth-Century Legacy Data on Archaeological Investigations, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, and Rubina Raja, ARC 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2022), 161–173 BREPOLS PUBLISHERS 10.1484/M.ARC-EB.5.130479

J. A. Baird

162 However, as with the case of the Palmyrene arch, we cannot take for granted that digital projects including the digitization of records and the production of digital archives are inherently a good thing. Archival archaeo­ logy, like other sites of archaeo­logical practice, is not a neutral playing field, and nor is the digital realm. While the Covid-19 pandemic has shown us just how important and valuable digital resources can be for researchers and students, particularly when access to other types of resources is limited, the proliferation of digitization projects also demonstrates the need to engage carefully and critically with the assumptions or motivations underpinning those projects, and the way in which they are delivered.6 For archaeo­logical sites in regions which are currently in zones of conflict such as in Syria, the problem of access to sites which arose for some researchers during the pandemic was already a longstanding one, as direct access to archaeo­logical sites was impossible. Archives of archaeo­logical sites, in such cases, have become the only documentation available: the site of the archive, physical or digital, has become a proxy for the archaeological site.7 Control and presentation of those archives online thus has come to serve many of the same roles as fieldwork had with the foreign expeditions to the Middle East, as a form of soft state power, which explains the recent proliferation of state-funded digital archaeo­logical archive projects.8 On the ground, other problems are of course more acute. Archives can be a site of encounter, where archaeo­ logists face the primary material, and in this way they structure the archaeo­logical knowledge produced from them: these affordances matter, as I will explore below. As a site of encounter, and as a form of proxy evidence, digital archives can also enable a certain forgetting, by allowing archaeo­logical work on Syrian sites to continue remotely even as local populations of those sites continue to live in war zones. That is, the safe distance created between Western researchers and physical sites allows a 6  While digital archives have been noted as a pedagogical tool in archaeo­logy, e.g. Agbe-Davies and others 2014, it has only been the lack of access to physical archives which has forced a large-scale shift, the long-term results of which remain to be seen. 7  On photo­graphs of objects in archaeo­logical archives as proxy for objects, Baird 2011a, 442. On the production of field records and the shifting of the epistemo­logical status from the site to those records, Lucas 2001, 44. 8   For a recent exploration of the role of archaeo­log y in diplomacy and soft power (from a US-Jordanian perspective), see e.g. Kersel and Hill 2020. On US soft power through archaeo­logy more broadly, Luke and Kersel 2013.

forgetting, or even occlusion, of the realities of such sites and also of our responsibilities towards the people there which might otherwise be more readily apparent.9 Perhaps an even bigger issue for archaeo­logy than the safe physical and epistemo­logical distance which archives create between local realities and the production of knowledge is our collective failure to deal with the backlog of data that archives hold and protect. By this I mean the failure of the discipline as a whole: our failure to cope with the accumulation of data we have produced, the many sites that were excavated but remain unpublished, the many finds seen only by a lucky clutch of excavators, the diligently collected photo­g raphs and context sheets carefully filed away.10 All of this accumulation, and the very existence of the archive (as indeed the notion of ‘preservation by record’) points towards a future imagined user of that archive.11 Archaeo­logical archives can have the best data management plans, the nicest acid-free archival boxes, the best designed databases, the most well-intentioned plans for the protection of their legacy. They can hold the digital or physical door to the archive wide open through physical and digital open access arrangements. But, doesn’t it matter if nobody ever comes through that door? If the imagined future towards which all storage and archives gesture really is imagined?12 In this paper, looking to the examples of two Syrian archaeo­logical archives in Western institutions, I briefly examine the ways in which those collections have come into being. I then reflect on some of the rhetorics which have persisted in the creation of (and now attention towards) archives of Middle Eastern archaeo­logical sites, rhetorics to do with discovery and salvation. 9 

I’ve attempted to address this tension, at Dura-Europos, in Baird 2020. On the complexities of community relationships to archaeo­logical sites in Syria, see e.g. Almohamad 2022. On the occlusion of particular histories, I am thinking in the sense of Stoler 2016, 10. On the physical archives and the relationship to the production of knowledge in those spaces, Putnam 2016, 395. As Putnam puts it, ‘Things happen in archives and libraries and on the way to them’. 10  This is to say nothing about the many archaeo­logical archives which have become personal rather than institutional collections and for which accessibility and access is even more remote. 11  As per Lucas (although from the context of conceptualizing the archaeo­logical record itself as an archive), ‘The point about an archive is that it reaches out to the future as much as it is a record of the past’. Lucas 2012, 206. 12  On the meanings of storage in museum context, Brusius and Singh 2017.

11. The Site of the Archive Next, I  pose some questions we perhaps need to ask ourselves as we design or engage with archaeo­logical archives, including digital ones, and ask what might be the new legacies of dealing with ‘legacy’ data.13 Finally, I want to ask what might shift if we start thinking about archaeo­logical archives the way we think about archaeo­ logical sites, as spatial and material entities where the context of each (archival) object matters?

Syrian Archaeo­logical Archives The history of archaeo­logical investigations in Syria is a long one, preceding the creation of the bounds of the modern state of Syria which encloses many significant sites dating from prehistory to the contemporary.14 This wealth of monumental archaeo­logical remains has long drawn foreign explorers, travellers, and expeditions, including in the mid-eighteenth century, the tours of men such as Robert Wood, whose records of Palmyra will be discussed later in this chapter. The incursions of foreign expeditions in the region continued into the modern period, through wars and mandates, with many large-scale excavations of major monumental urban and tell sites. By the turn of the millennium, more than a hundred foreign archaeo­logical expeditions were working in the country, and a number of its sites had been inscribed on or nominated to the UNESCO World Heritage Sites list.15 Archaeo­logical archives, whether made of paper or pixels, reveal much in their structures and designs about their intentions, motivations, and presumed audience. Things which we now call archaeo­logical archives have come about both deliberately and accidentally as products of the long history of archaeo­logical investigation in Syria. One example of the less intentional type of 13   On legacy data in archaeo­logy, e.g. Allison 2008. For a transparent approach to creating a digital ‘living archive’ using linked open data at Çatalhöyük, Lukas, Engel, and Mazzucato 2018. While the potentials of open data for archaeo­logy for public engagement has long been noted and indeed theorized, e.g. contributions in Bonacchi and Bevan 2012; major digitization projects seem disengaged with this. 14  An over view of twentieth-centur y archaeo­ l og ical investigations in Syria can be found in Gillot 2010. 15  Kanjou 2020, 339–40. Those inscribed to the list include the ancient cities of Aleppo, Damascus, and Bosra, as well as Palmyra, the Dead Cities, and Qal’at Sahah el-Din/Crac des Chevaliers [accessed 21 May 2021]. DuraEuropos is on the nominated list. On the UNESCO’s role in Syrian archaeo­logy, Luke and Meskell 2019.

163 archive from the earlier period of archaeo­logical interest in Syria is the Wood collection, now held by The Combined Library of the Institute of Classical Studies and the Hellenic and Roman Societies in London. This collection originates with the mid-eighteenth-century expedition of Robert Wood and his colleagues to the Mediterranean and Middle East which led to the first major publication on the monuments of Palmyra. 16 But, it is not an archaeo­logical archive in the (perceived ideal) sense of being a systematic record of the site, having been made before the discipline existed as such, but rather is typical of the records created by early gentleman travellers, consisting largely of personal notebooks and sketches. Wood was near the start of a long series of foreign expeditions and ‘collectors’ who would visit Syria. Like many primary records of Syria’s past, the diaries, notes, and drawings made at Palmyra by Wood, his funder and colleague James Dawkins, and their architect Giovanni Battista Borra in the 1750s, have never returned to Syria. Indeed, they were until relatively recently in private hands, as the collection remained in the possession of Wood’s descendants until it was donated to the Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies in 1926. The collection remains now in the Joint Library, where it can be consulted by anyone who asks, and has recently been entirely scanned to make it more accessible.17 This is an interesting and incomplete collection: some diaries were lost before the donation was made, or are in unknown private hands, and other materials, such as the preparatory drawings for the published engravings are elsewhere.18 Across the Syrian steppe from Palmyra is the less wellknown Dura-Europos, a Graeco-Roman urban site on the middle Euphrates, which was the location of largescale excavations in the 1920s and 1930s; after a short investigation by the Uni­ver­sity of Chicago’s James Henry Breasted, campaigns were undertaken by the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres under Franz Cumont 16 

Wood 1753. Butterworth 1986; Baird and Kamash 2019. In 2020–2021, the whole archive was scanned and made available online in work funded by the Leventis Foundation [accessed 11 June 2021]. 18  For instance, in the archives of the Royal Institute of British Architects, where you can see the drawings online, accessible through an interface designed to sell framed prints and image licences. E.g., Borra’s plan of Palmyra [accessed 11 June 2021]. 17 

164 and then jointly by Yale and the French Academy under Cumont and Mikhail Rostovtzeff.19 The archives of the Dura expedition, which are held at the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery, are the result of the ten seasons of excavation undertaken in the 1920s and 1930s, and perhaps a more typical archaeo­logical archive. This archive holds excavation diaries, photo­g raphic collections, object records, and much more, including artefacts and wall paintings. Virtually every publication on Dura-Europos since the 1930s has been based on the records and objects it holds.20 Through them, I’ve been able to use the legacy data to (for example) reconstruct the archaeo­ logy of the houses at the site, which were excavated but little published by the original team, and to examine how the photo­graphs related to the site’s interpretation, and study the site’s graffiti.21 Other scholars have similarly used the archives to examine a range of different facets of the site and its history, from sculpture and paintings to religious practices and the military.22 Much of the Dura archival material is available online, due to the valiant efforts over many years of colleagues in the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery to digitize them and make them publicly available.23 These are all open access, including the photo­graphs of the expedition which are lodged on ArtStor.24 These are astonishing resources, and have been available for years, although very few academics seem to have made use of them in their digital form.25 19  On the history of excavations at Dura, Baird 2018a, 1–16. A new survey of Cumont’s work at Dura can be found in Kaizer 2020. 20  The exception of course being the publications of the FrancoSyrian expedition to Dura since the 1980s which conducted new excavations there. The preliminary results of which have appeared in a series of volumes, Doura-Europos Études and Europos-Doura Varia. These, too, of course rely heavily on the records of the Yale Dura archive. 21  Houses: Baird 2012; Baird 2014. Photo­graphs: Baird 2011a; Baird 2019. Graffiti: Baird 2011b; Baird 2018b. 22  See e.g. contributions to Hoffman and Brody 2011; Kaizer 2016. 23  Concerted digitization efforts of the Dura-Europos archive at Yale began in the 1990s, focusing on the photo­graphs. 24  The photo­g raphs from the Dura-Europos archive, including both the records of the excavation and modern photo­graphs of the archaeo­logical objects, are available through the Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery: Dura Europos Collection on ArtStor, at [accessed 21 May 2021]. 25  A new project, the Yale Digital Dura-Europos Archive has recently started, which will hopefully tempt more utilization of these resources — I’m grateful to Anne Hunnell Chen for permission to share these new initiatives. An overview of the project is available

J. A. Baird Dura-Europos is typical of many Syrian sites, where foreign expeditions conducted excavations and took the records of that work with them back to their home institutions, so that it could be analysed and written up. This practice, of course not unique to Syria, created a parallel absence of those records in Syria itself.26 After the First World War, from the time of the French Mandate in Syria and Lebanon, a partage system operated in which foreign expeditions were permitted to retain a proportion of the objects which were excavated. An example of an agreement which included such an arrangement is that drawn up during the mandate period in Syria is that between the Yale Uni­ver­sity and the Haut-Commissaire de la République Francaise in 1933, giving a new accord on the excavations at Dura-Europos (Fig. 11.1).27 In that agreement (Fig. 11.1, item no. 4) there are specific arrangements for the division of objects (antiquités mobilières) at the end of each campaign, which were to be divided into two equal parts, one for the excavation project and one for the antiquities service, with special provision for objects of particular importance to be kept in state collections. The provision to the antiquities service of an object inventory and photo­g raphs of objects is noted (no. 5), the delivery to the Damascus Museum of objects apportioned to the Syrian State is specified (no. 6), and specific prearrangement is made for the discovery of wall paintings (no. 7). The exclusive rights to publication are given (no. 8), and specification made for objects needing special study (no. 9), including parchments and coins. This system of partage is of course well known in this period throughout the contemporary Middle East. The ‘products’ of the expedition are, for the purposes of the accord, envisaged to be objects, paintings, and publications. But, in our contemporary context, we might also notice what is missing from this and at [accessed 21 May 2021], and Wikidata available [accessed 21 May 2021]. 26  Awareness of local, personal, archives, when they exist, is of course another problem (to say nothing of unarchived local knowledge); parallel issues arise also (e.g.) in Greek archaeo­logy, with the personal/private ownership of archaeo­logical archives. 27  This is of course only one of a number of permits granted to Yale for archaeo­logical work in Syria, including those which were not acted upon. Documents in the Yale archive from American State Department make clear that the expeditions enabled by such permits, and their arrangements, were very much part of broader American cultural policy objectives: Baird 2018a, 15. On histories of and approaches to archaeo­logical permits, Luke and Kersel 2013, 46–58.

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Figure 11.1. Copy of agreement regarding the expedition to Dura-Europos made in 1933, signed by James Angell, president of Yale, and Damien de Martel, the French High Commissioner of the Levant. Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery Dura-Europos Archive, ‘Agreements with Syria’ Folder, scan in 2015 by author, reproduced by kind permission of Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

other such documents: no mention is made of the other excavation records, save the object photo­graphs. Nor is the protection and maintenance of the site mentioned. This is revealing about the priorities of the time, among which were filling galleries in New Haven by Yale and in Damascus by the French Mandatory authorities, and the way in which sites were seen, at least by some, as generators of objects rather than generators of knowledge. The other ‘products’ of the excavation: photo­g raphs, notebooks, object registers, plans and drawings, were all retained by Yale and remain there today. Dura’s excavation took place, of course, in a particular inter-war context. Later, after Syrian independence, archaeo­logy was increasingly nationalized, and with the establishment of Syrian Antiquities Law in 1963 (Qanun al-‘athar) rules and responsibilities governing foreign expeditions were put in place, with retention of objects by Syria and guidelines concerning site protection and publication enacted. But, while there has long been a formal provision for control of the objects produced by

foreign archaeo­logical expeditions, there has still been little provision for the records of excavations, with these usually being retained by the foreign expeditions, even as more recently those expeditions became formally joint Syrian-foreign teams. Arguably, the site records are more important than the objects themselves, particularly with regards to the generation of new archaeo­logical knowledge and publications, but the focus on objects as products of excavation (among other things) reflects a concern with the control and display of physical heritage as symbols of institutional and state control. I bring up these two archives of Syrian archaeo­logical sites, Palmyra and Dura, as examples of archaeo­logical archives which are typical of archives of Syrian tangible heritage, in that the primary records reside outside of Syria. Many Syrian objects went to Western museums, and while issues of cultural property and repatriation are not my focus here, I think we need to think more carefully about the ways in which archives, like objects, are a form of diaspora, a heritage that resides outside Syria, and

166 indeed are inaccessible to many Syrians not just because of where it is, or the language it is produced in, but also the kinds of knowledge and monetary capabilities needed to access them, even when they are digitally available.

Rhetorics While the public and archaeo­logists alike perhaps like to imagine archives looking like the warehouse from closing scenes of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, the reality is often considerably more prosaic. In considering two rhetorics here, those of discovery and salvation, I  ask if particular perceptions and rhetorics that prop up research projects and underpin disciplinary identities are holding us back. One of the rhetorics archaeo­logy struggles with is that of ‘discovery’ — this matters to archives both as a proxy for and vessel of ‘discoveries’, but more, for the present purpose, in the way that the drive for discovery causes a parallel neglect of archives.28 Perhaps one of the reasons we have, as a discipline, struggled to deal with our backlog of (archival) data is precisely because there is so much cultural and literal capital in the moment of discovery itself as a disciplinary value and measure of success. In archaeo­logy, fieldwork is valued and valorised above almost everything else.29 The value placed on fieldwork and new discovery is easy to see, for example, in the job market, with many job ads in classical archaeo­ logy for junior academic positions necessitating an active field project. I mention this not because I don’t think we should be finding out new things (obviously we need to), but because I think we should doing more to question the place of fieldwork as the defining aspect of our discipline, and the idea that we’re only doing real archaeo­logy if we are bringing things out of the earth.30 While there are valid reasons for developer-funded/CRM projects to continue, when sites might otherwise be destroyed without a trace, how can we really justify new archaeo­logical fieldwork when generations’ worth of archaeo­logical data remains largely unstudied and unpublished? 31 28 

Such tropes have been discussed e.g. by Holtorf 2007. One might look to the contents of major archaeo­logical journals for an indication of this, for example, in which many articles focus on ‘new evidence’ and sections are devoted to ‘field reports’. 30  But, on the problems of the digital move to web archives and new forms of data: Milligan 2016. On the trope of archaeo­logy-asexcavation, and of the past being buried and hidden (and the call to look instead to surface survey and the archaeo­logy of the present), Harrison 2011. 31  Even if we restrict our search to Syrian Graeco-Roman sites 29 

J. A. Baird The disciplinary value placed on ‘discovery’ I think links directly, and explains in part, the broad disciplinary failure to work in the archives. Archaeo­logy is a discipline built on a tradition of major sites whose excavation was overseen by (but not actually done by) a series of towering (usually male) figures. If career paths in the academy require fieldwork, colleagues can hardly be blamed for undertaking it, even if this is to the detriment of focusing on the data generated by others. So, I would argue, part of our lack of attention to archives lies in the very conception of what we think the work of archaeo­logy is. A different problem, but also one fundamental to many archaeo­logical narratives, is that of salvation: that is, the positioning of archaeo­logists as protectors and saviours of sites and heritage.32 This is not a new problem; the mandatory powers in the Middle East framed their archaeo­logical work as a form of salvation. These rhetorics of salvation and protection have long been used as a premise for ‘clearing’ contemporary peoples from archaeo­logical sites.33 The same narrative has carried over into contemporary conflict-torn Syria, with a variety of international organizations whose modus operandi is to save and protect Syrian heritage.34 Of course, much valuable and well-intentioned work is being done, but it’s not always a clear matter of for whom which pasts are being saved.35 Rhetorics of salvation and protection are convenient for institutions and funders, and indeed are often used in support of genuine efforts by archaeo­logists and others who care for the remains of the past, but I think it’s something we should be more wary of, as there’s an underlying position which is paternalis-

with archaeo­logical archival materials held at American universities, there are e.g. those of Harold Crosby Butler at Princeton and the material from Antioch (the site is of course, in modern Turkey); those of Dura-Europos and Jerash at Yale; the Oriental Institute of the Uni­ver­sity of Chicago’s extensive holdings, including those of James Henry Breasted; John Henry Haynes’s material at Harvard. 32  Or, as per Holtorf, archaeo­logists are averse to loss: Holtorf 2015. 33  As at Palmyra: Baird and Kamash 2019, 16. 34  e.g. SHIRĪN — Syrian Heritage in Danger (although the web presence of this organization has disappeared in 2021). For an evaluation of the government and non-governmental organization responses to Syrian heritage protection, Munawar 2019. See also a number of database efforts, e.g. ‘The CIPA Database for Saving the Heritage of Syria’ Silver and others 2016. 35  For example ; [accessed 24 June 2021].

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Figure 11.2. Screenshot of Dura-Europos record from ‘Syrian Heritage Archive Project’ [accessed 24 June 2021].

tic, placing those doing the protecting in the position of stewardship while excluding others. For instance, concern for site protection rarely extends to the living communities of those sites, and the protection of sites tends to be limited to those of a particular type, those that are recognizable, around which cultural capital has already been constructed, as at Palmyra.36 Narratives of discovery and salvation have carried into the digital age unabated. Salvation, like reconstruction, is a way of making a claim on the future  of the Syria’s past, and this is no less true of digitization projects of archives than it is of physical sites and monuments.37 This is redoubled with the digitization of archival materials, which despite being often hailed as a democratizing move, has more complex realities: digital formats can reproduce existing power structures and provide less context for understanding them, a topic to which I will return below.38 36  On the broader discourse of Western salvage paradigm in the Middle East, and the lack of appreciation of local importance of sites like Palmyra, Brusius 2019. 37  On restoration as claim-making: Stoler 2008, 202. 38  Baird and McFadyen 2014; Putnam 2016.

Digitization projects often claim to ‘benefit science, human heritage, and citizens’, and indeed a planned digitization project of the archives of the Franco-Syrian expedition to Dura claims exactly that.39 It is also frequently claimed that digitization can be a form of democratization and even repatriation, by making cultural objects available online, despite well-documented barriers to access.40 And yet, it is increasingly clear that digitization of archaeo­logical archives alone is not enough to ensure access, and indeed that digitization has the potential to reinvent the same power dynamics of ownership and control of the past that the original expeditions created.41 We see troubling aspects of this in some heritage projects. The German Archaeo­logical Institute ‘Syrian Heritage Archive Project’, funded by the Federal Foreign Office, offers the same narratives of salvation and dis39  This quote is from a press release on the planned digitization of the archives of the recent Franco-Syrian expedition to DuraEuropos (active since the 1980s), the archives of which are held in Paris and have been planned for digitization (press release dated 25 March 2019, accessed 21 May 2021). 40  Taylor and Gibson 2017. 41  Boast and Enote 2013; Bond 2018a and 2018b.

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Figure 11.3. Pages from Clark Hopkins’s 1931 field notebook at Dura-Europos. Draft plan of block C7 on left, and selection of November diary entries on the right, including movements of filed staff, weather, and finds. The notation at the start of each day’s entry (e.g. 5–21–204) denotes the number of foremen, boys, and men working on site that day. Scanned by author in 2009. Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery.

covery, but lacks the inherent context of the archives it digitizes. For example, it doesn’t engage with the simple question of why these huge collections of images of Syrian archaeo­logical sites are held by German institutions. And, if we dive into the database, most records have a site name, but many are otherwise completely decontextualized, or nearly so. Figure 11.2 is an example record from Dura-Europos: there’s no scale, or direction, or building name, or biblio­graphy.42 Who can really 42 

I have of course just chosen an example; most of the Dura photo­g raphs on the database are 1990s photo­g raphs of religious structures there, which are potentially of use, if someone could access the German/English database and was familiar enough with the site to contextualize them. They are however watermarked and there is a cost if they are to be used in publication (details of which are given

use this photo­g raph, and for what? What service does it really provide? Is this project actually about sharing archaeo­logical knowledge on digital platforms, or is it about reproducing and reasserting ownership and stewardship of sites we can no longer physically go to? Are such projects just a new form of foreign institutions laying claim to Syrian heritage, without providing anything in return?

The Archaeo­logical Archive as an Archaeo­logical Site For those of us who’ve long worked in the archaeo­logical archives, those archives have become proxy sites. This is [accessed 24 June 2021]).

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something that is a problem, though, for disciplinary identities: when I tell people that I work in archives, the next question is usually ‘But, have you dug there?’. Luckily for me, I have excavated in Syria, but it is no longer a possibility for Western researchers, and while I value my time in the field I don’t think that fieldwork necessarily validates my archaeo­logy or my archival work. As I noted above, archaeo­logical archives have become largely unacknowledged proxy sites, and even more so as actual archaeo­logical sites have become less physically accessible. Indeed, I think we would do well to consider archives as sites more broadly and more purposefully: that is, to think of archaeo­logical archives as places where we could take into account spatial relationships and the status of objects as material entities with their own contexts. By objects I mean not only archaeo­logical material culture but also archival objects, all of the ‘stuff ’ produced and lodged in archives. We could even think about the archaeo­logical archive as something that has its own formation processes: how archaeo­logical archives came to be, where they are located, and why they have the form they do is an important part of the tale. In this way we could do more to integrate the insights of the archival turn in archaeo­logy, elucidating Figure 11.4. Scanned page from the photo­graph album of Maurice Pillet, the first field not only the archaeo­logical past but the director at Dura. Pillet wrote the captions himself, here describing the cleaning of the west corner of the south tower of the Palmyrene gate on 8 May 1928. Scanned by past of archaeo­logy. author in 2009. Dura-Europos Archive, Yale Uni­ver­sity Art Gallery. What then is the taphonomy of the digital turn for archaeo­logical archives? In part, I think it is one of new erasures. Archaeo­logical postal deliveries. That is, the form of the records, such archives have their own affordances which mediate as fieldwork notebooks, forces an encounter with the knowledge production: the physical archive forces a difcircumstances of their production, with the mud still ferent encounter with the material than we might get by sometimes smeared across the page. This is an encounter searching for what we want on a digital interface. This that disappears when information is accessed by (e.g.) a (Fig. 11.3) is an example from Dura, of the notebook keyword search.43 of one of the excavation directors, Clark Hopkins. In Or here, in the photo­g raph album of the first Yale order to learn about the plans of the houses in such a director on site, Maurice Pillet (Fig. 11.4). In searching notebook, you have to leaf by other information: things the physical archive to find the photo­graph you thought such as the weather at the site, or the payments of the workmen. Transcriptions of inscriptions share pages 43  This example is hypothetical, in as much as the fieldwork with descriptions of the muddy roads and the lack of notebooks from Dura are not yet digitally available nor searchable.

J. A. Baird

170 you wanted of an ancient monument, you might be distracted by other things, by faces and names which aren’t in the usual stories, who now catch your eye and press into view.44 Personally, being deep in the physical Dura archive (and not just cherry-picking ‘housing’, which I definitely wanted to do when I first arrived in the archive, but which wasn’t an option, because of the structure of the excavation and the archive) forced me to confront the colonial underpinning of the project in a way I hadn’t planned to but that I continue to struggle with. For the most part, that had to do with seeing the faces, over and over and over, of those who are not part of the histories of archaeo­logy, but who did most of its labour. The faces of those whose names never made it into the captions, and now who are similarly invisible in the digital metadata of those same images. Just as the materiality of the archives can force us to confront the place of archaeo­logy in the colonial project and the exploitation of local peoples at archaeo­ logical sites, so too can its affordances teach us about the veracity (or not) of our records. Take for instance the ephemerality of Borra’s Palmyra drawings in the Wood archive: Borra’s pencil sketches are so faint they barely show up in scans or photo­g raphs without enhancement. Encountering its ephemerality and scale, and in the library where we can set it up next to the published version, allows us to reflect on and confront just how truly ‘documentary’ those engravings really are.45 The ease with which it is possible to zoom in on an image in the digital archive might allow us to look closely at these images from the safe comfort of a laptop screen, but this creates different types of encounter with those archives, which all but erases scale and ephemerality. How can digital archives ever communicate the vanillasweet mustiness of the tissue-thin paper, the pencil lines which you almost need to touch your nose to in order to see, and the types of questions that encounter might provoke? The Wood collection of the ICS has been digitized, and a conscientious attempt to engage with the collection has used linked open data to allow anyone to annotate and comment on them, in work led by Gabriel Bodard and Valeria Vitale. This work used Recogito (part of the Pelagios network), open source web software which allows annotations on documents. A workshop which invited not only academics, but also a broader 44  45 

Further on photo­graphs from Pillet’s album, Baird 2019. As described in more detail in Baird and Kamash 2019.

audience including Syrian students, enabled a group of respondents to comment on a selected range of Palmyrarelated documents from the archive, by providing brief training and support for its use.46 This invited participants to ‘annotate’, or make interventions on, scans of the documents, interventions which ranged from transcription and description of texts and images to notes on the materiality of documents, to personal responses to their contents. While this work was preliminary, it does show that other types of (potentially, but not unproblematically, multivocal) encounters are possible with digital archives, when diverse users are actively brought together, and the broader use of techno­logy is enabled. The archaeo­logical archive confronts you in some ways with the circumstances of its own production, in a way that digital searches allow us to find, perhaps — if we’re looking for them — but also make those circumstances easy to navigate around; that is, our ability to search hundreds and thousands of files quickly can also be an act of erasure.47 More broadly, it is also now possible for archaeo­logists in search of data to ‘find without knowing where to look’, knowledge no longer being mediated by the necessity of being familiar with sites themselves.48 That is, it would have previously been necessary to be familiar with a site — to know by which institution it was excavated, by whom the records were kept, as well as familiarizing oneself with the site topo­ graphy and nomenclature, etc. — to research a specific part of it. No longer. The removal of literal and figurative gatekeeping to archives through digitization can of course be welcomed in some senses, but the gatekeepers are not all that is disappearing with the creation of online archives: we lose also the visibility of the power structures that have shaped the archive, and to which they remain anchored. Digitized archaeo­logical archives might hypothetically make lots of material accessible to lots of people, but in many cases those users remain hypothetical. It takes time to find your way through an archive, just like it does a site. One of the reasons I 46   A seminar on annotating documents (and documents from the Wood archive specifically) can be found here as part of the Sunoikisis programme [accessed 24 June 2021]. Simon and others 2017. Further on the potentials of annotating digital documents: Barker, Foka, and Konstantinidou 2020. 47  On other problems in digital archives, including algorithmdriven discovery and misleading forms of search, poor OCR, etc.: Hitchcock 2013. 48  Putnam 2016, 377.

11. The Site of the Archive think scholars and students don’t perhaps engage with digital archives as much as they could is because it can be very hard to get a sense of the relationship of the part to the whole; being physically in an archive intrinsically can give a much better, embedded, sense of this (even in the simple thickness of one folder compared to others, or being able to glance at the number of filing drawers a collection inhabits). This is not to romanticize physical archives, which can be difficult and expensive to access, nor to imply there are no positive aspects to the disintermediation of archives. Nonetheless, we must be wary of creating new problems, and reproducing old ones, as we create new digital access to the archives: for digitized collections, the bulk production of metadata can lead to ‘thin’ records, such as poor captions on photo­graphs, even when such data exists in the physical archive; mass digitization struggles to reproduce affordances as simple as turning over a photo­graphic print to look at the accumulated notes on the reverse. The ability to search online collections also relies heavily on search terms, tags, or the taxonomies which are applied to digital photo­g raphs and other records. This can be seen, for example, in the continued lack of visibility (which is now also the lack of searchability) of local workers in the excavation photo­ graphs, through the reproduction of old captions (as seen in the original caption of Figure 11.4, above) — of the current 15,030 photo­g raphs available online in the Dura-Europos collection on ArtStor, a search of the term ‘worker’ yields not a single result, despite hundreds of photo­graphs depicting them.49 If we give our archives the conceptual respect we give archaeo­logical sites, I think new potentials open, potentials which we can utilize as we conceptualize and design digital archaeo­logical archives. Further, if we more convincingly treated archives as sites in themselves, sites of encounter, sites of translation, and sites with complex taphonomies, could we even shift the primacy of fieldwork? Digitization can be an opportunity to pay close attention to the structure and materiality of archives, and to do this with stakeholder communities, as we create new structures and materialities; indeed, archaeo­ logy might do well to consider the case for slow digitization. In the context of the digitization of manu­scripts, Prescott and Hughes have suggested a slow digitization, 49  In fact, the image from Pillet’s album reproduced above is not available in the online Dura-Europos photo­g raph collection at all because the photo­graphic collection digitization was made from the negative collection, and this image exists only as a print in an album. For the online Dura-Europos collection, see note 25 above.

171 ‘in which rapid access is less important than the use of techno­logical and other tools to gradually excavate the complex layers that make up each manu­script’.50 In the same way, we might consider the slow digitization of records in archaeo­logical archives, where digitization includes a careful consideration and inclusion of the complicated archival context of each digitized item. This is not an argument against mass digitization, nor against the creation of online archives, but one for using the opportunity to pay real attention to our data. This is not only a matter of caring about the generation of new archaeo­logical knowledge, however, it is about the ongoing duty of care to the people within the archives, particularly those figures who have long been without names, much less a voice.51 I think there are also potentials in considering whether we could use archives as a site where we might engage with the communities from whom such archives have long been alienated. What shape might digital archives take if such communities also had their say: a community archaeo­logy in the archive? For this to happen in a genuine way, local and other stakeholder involvement needs to happen before data are digitized and published online: we need to create dialogues with Middle Eastern communities and stakeholders before the digitization process begins, not after it has happened.52

Conclusion Where do we go from here? I offer some humble suggestions. First, as we embrace the digital turn (or are forced to embrace it through lack of alternative), we should learn lessons from the archives that we already have as we create their digital counterparts. The digital brings its own affordances and challenges, but it need not faithfully reproduce the power structures and imbalances that we know exist and which have been detrimental to a more open archaeo­logy that serves a broader range of 50 

Prescott and Hughes 2018. Odumosu 2020. On archaeo­logical ethics and multivocality, Richardson 2018, 69. As per Richardson: ‘The narratives that are created by professional archaeo­logists and communicated through digital techno­logies, or those digital projects that create content or visualisations through more community focused inclusive practices, cannot be extricated from the diverse contemporary and historical social, political and economic contexts in which archaeo­logy is practiced.’ On the potentials of the social web in archaeo­logy, Perry and Beale 2015. On the gap in archaeo­logical ethics in relation to the digital, Dennis 2020. 52  Beale 2012, 618. 51 

172 stakeholders or users. We can’t presume digitization is by its very nature democratic and inclusive: we need to be inclusive as we think about digitization, and invite more people in before the process begins. Second, I make a simple plea to use the archives we already have. We have a responsibility to the material, and to the complicated legacies of our discipline, to deal with the data we have before we dig more of it; by this I also mean there is an imperative to integrate this data and its use into our teaching.

J. A. Baird Third, I think we should be wary of the narratives of discovery and salvation that we tell ourselves and communicate about our discipline: What if we instead focused our attention on using archival spaces of papers and of pixels as places of reconciliation rather than salvation? Archives provide this opportunity and the digital perhaps even more so — the potential to allow us to engage not only with the archaeo­logical past but archaeo­logy’s own past, for all its shame and all its wonder.

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Brusius, M. 2019. ‘Objects and History Adrift. Contextualizing the Debate about Middle Eastern “Heritage”’, in U. Fleckner and E. Tolstichin (eds), Das verirrte Kunstwerk (Berlin: De Gruyter), pp. 55–71. Butterworth, J. A. 1986. ‘Library Supplement: The Wood Collection’, The Journal of Hellenic Studies, 106: 197–200. Dennis, L. M. 2020. ‘Digital Archaeo­logical Ethics: Successes and Failures in Disciplinary Attention’, Journal of Computer Applications in Archaeo­logy, 3: 210–18. Gillot, L. 2010. ‘Towards a Socio-Political History of Archaeo­logy in the Middle East: The Development of Archaeo­logical Practice and its Impacts on Local Communities in Syria’, Bulletin of the History of Archaeo­logy, 20 [accessed 15 December 2016]. Harrison, R. 2011. ‘Surface Assemblages. Towards an Archaeo­logy in and of the Present’, Archaeo­logical Dialogues, 18: 141–61. Hitchcock, T. 2013. ‘Confronting the Digital’, Cultural and Social History, 10: 9–23. Hoffman, G. and L. Brody. 2011. Dura-Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity (Chestnut Hill: McMullen Museum of Art). Holtorf, C. 2007. Archaeo­logy Is a Brand! The Meaning of Archaeo­logy in Contemporary Popular Culture (Oxford: Archaeopress). —— . 2015. ‘Averting Loss Aversion in Cultural Heritage’, International Journal of Heritage Studies, 21: 405–21. Kaizer, T. 2016. Religion, Society and Culture at Dura-Europos (Cambridge: Cambridge Uni­ver­sity Press). —— . 2020. ‘Introduction’, in D. Pret, T. Kaizer, and A. Lannoy (eds), Doura-Europos, Bibliotheca Cumontiana: Scripta Minora, 7 (Rome: Academia Belgica), pp. xi–xcviii. Kamash, Z. 2017. ‘“Postcard to Palmyra”: Bringing the Public into Debates over Post-Conflict Reconstruction in the Middle East’, World Archaeo­logy, 49: 608–22. 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Index

1. Index of Names Abdulkarim, Maamoun: 131 Akoumianos, Emmanuelis (Manolis): 14, 16–17 al-Asʿad, Khaled: 118, 131 ʿAliyat: 123 Angell, James Rowland: 24, 29 Aqmê: 105 Aurelian: 103 Avvar: 94, 96

Dunant, Christine: 133 Dunand, Maurice: 87

Bacquet, Émile: 26 Badé, William Frederic: 94–95 Baʿlaî: 115 Barʿateh: 118 Barbarah: 115 Barnabû: 118 Baur, Paul Victor Christopher: 56 Bodard, Gabriel: 170 Borra, Giovanni Battista: 163, 170 Breasted, James Henry: 24, 44, 163 Brown, Frank Edward: 24, 34–35, 38 Brummer, Joseph: 105 Burckhardt: 64 Butler, Howard Crosby: 37

Gabriel, Albert: 87, 94–95 Gawlikowski, Michał: 118 Gettens, Rutherford: 38 Goell, Theresa: 147, 148, 151–53 Grellert, Marc: 137 Gute, Herbet Jacob: 4, 23–24, 26–40

Christensen, Charles: 95 Christie, Agatha: 104 Chrysomallos, Basileios: 149 Collart, Paul: 5, 129, 130–43 Collins, Varnum Lansing: 37 Comnenos, David: 149 Comstock, Francis B.: 27 Crowfoot, Dorothy: 64 Cumont, Franz: 24, 44, 163 Cunliffe, Emma: 114 David, Elias Solomon: 105 Dawkins, James: 163 Dayyôn: 115 de Jong, Piet: 36–37 Derrida, Jacques: 114 Dörner, Friedrich Karl: 5, 145–48 Dirks, Nicholas: 114 Droop, John Percival: 83, 93, 96 du Mesnil du Buisson, Robert: 28, 34, 35

Evans, Arthur: 4, 9–14, 17, 20 Fellman, Rudolf: 131, 133 Fotou, Vasso: 11 Foucault, Michel: 114 Freyer-Schauenburg, Brigitte: 146

Hadrian: 129 Hayfan, Wael: 131 Hijjar: 94 Hoepfner, Wolfram: 147–50, 153 Hopkins, Clark: 24, 25–29, 35, 168, 169 Horsfield, George: 64 Ingholt, Harald: 1, 2, 4, 83–97, 101, 105–07, 111–12, 118, 123 Jacobsen, Carl: 86, 111 Kraeling, Carl Hermann: 55, 59 Løytved, Julius: 86 Mackenzie, Duncan: 9, 11–13, 14–15, 17, 20 Male, son of Taîbbôl: 105 Mallowan, Max: 104 McFayden, Lesley: 42, 46 Messayeh brothers: 106 Moqîmû: 123 Muhammed: 96 Murphy, M. C.: 24 Nabûgaddî: 115

Østrup, Johannes Elith: 86, 103–04 Parlasca, Klaus: 107 Pearson, Henry: 26–28 Pendlebury, John: 14–17, 19, 20 Pillet, Maurice: 24, 169 Platon, Nikolaos: 13 Ploug, Gunhild: 102, 112–13 Popham, Mervyn: 14 Robertson, Donald Struan: 64 Robinson, David: 37 Rostovtzeff, Michael Ivanovich: 24, 27–28, 163 Schaefer, Catherine: 27–28, 39 Schliemann, Heinrich: 94 Schumacher, Gottlieb: 55 Schweig, Joseph: 63, 64–66 Schwertheim, Elmar: 146 Seetzen, Jasper Ulrich: 55 Seyrig, Henri: 28, 92, 104, 129 Shalman: 115 Stinespring, William Franklin: 64 Sivan, Hagith Sara: 31 Starcky, Jean: 92 Stuart-Jones, Henry: 123 Stucky, Rolf: 134 Tadmôr: 123 Taîbbôl son of Male: 105 Vitale, Valeria: 170 von Peschke, Georg: 37 Winter, Engelbert: 146 Wood, Robert: 163, 170 Yon, Jean-Baptiste: 4, 92 Zabdibôl: 123 Zenobia: 111 Zimmermann, Nikolaus: 146

176

2. Index of Places Aegean: 9 Africa: 3 Aftun Dere Köyü: 148 Akçakoca: 148 Akkaya: 148 al Athar: 43 Alexandria Troas: 146 Anatolia see Asia Minor Amasra: 148–49 American University in Beirut: 87 Apollonia see Kefken Adası Asia: 3 Asia Minor: 5, 125, 145, 147 Assyria: 125 Aphrodisias, Turkey: 125 Athens, Greece: 36, 125 Agora: 36 Azraq: 141 Baalbek: 55, 101, 129 Beirut, Lebanon: 106 Black Sea: 147–49, 151 Bithynia: 145–49, 15–52, 157 Acherontal: 148 Aftun Dere Köyü: 148 Akçakoca: 148 Akkaya: 148 Amasra: 148, 150–51 Bithynion-Klaudiopolis: 147 Bursa: 147 Dariye Yürükler Köyü: 148 Devrek: 149 Düzce: 147–48 Eskipazar: 149 Heraclea Pontica see Ereğli Hocaköy: 148 Kefken Adasi: 148, 151 Kendira: 148 Kerpe: 148 Kilisecik: 148–49 Kumluköy: 148 Maçka: 148 Nikomedia: 147 Prusa: 147 Prusias ad Hypium: 147 Şile: 148 Sinope: 148 Sumela monastery: 148 Taşköprü: 149 Trabzon: 148, 151 Bithynion-Klaudiopolis see Bolu Bolu: 147 Britain: 125 Roman: 123, 125 ‘Tomb of the Victor’: 123 Bursa: 147 China: 140 Commagene: 145–46, 151–57, 158 Arsameia-on-the-Nymphaios: 145, 152–58 Eski Kahta see Arsameia-on-theNymphaios

Index Eski Kale: 152–53 Nemrud Dağ: 146, 151, 152–53, 156 Yeni Kale see Arsameia-on-the-Nymphaios Copenhagen: 103 Corinth: 36, 37 Dariye Yürükler Köyü: 148 Daphnusia see Kefken Adası Decapolis: 4, 55 Denmark: 5, 112 Devrek: 149 Doliche: 146 Dülük Baba Tepesi: 146 The Sanctuary of Jupiter Dolichenus: 146: Doura-Europos, Europos-Doura see Dura-Europos Dura-Europos: 4, 5, 23–40, 43–45, 49–50, 161, 163–65, 167–69 Mithraeum: 28 Synagogue: 25–31, 37–38, 40 Temple of Azzanathkona: 28 Temple of Bêl: 43, 49–50, 88 Temple of the Oriental Gods; Temple of Palmyrene Bêl; Temple of the Palmyrene Gods; Temple of Zeus see Temple of Bêl Düzce: 147–48 Egypt: 103 Eskipazar: 149 Ereğli: 147–51 Euphrates: 31–32, 43 Europe: 114 Genoa: 150 Gerasa: 4, 55–60, 65, 73, 101 Ain Kerawan: 77 Ajlun Castle: 75–77 Baptistery: 67 Cathedral: 59, 61–62, 64, 66, 68–69 Church of Procopius: 66 Fountain Court: 61–64 Great Staircase: 63, 69 main street: 63–64 Mosque: 77–79 Northwest quarter: 4 Nymphaeum: 65–66 Propylaea Church: 64, 68 Sanctuary of Artemis: 59, 61, 64–66 Shrine of B. V. M: 70 St Theodore: 66, 70, 74 St. George: 66 St. John the Baptist: 66–67 Sts Cosmas and Damianus: 66–67 Suf: 77–78 Temple of Zeus Olympios: 66–67 Tetrapylon: 65 Hadrianopolis see Eskipazar Halae: 36 Heraclea Pontica see Ereğli Hocaköy: 148

India: 114 Iraq: 115 Isthmia: 37 İzmir: 147, 148 İzmit: 147 Jerash see Gerasa Jordan: 4, 55, 60 Kefken Adası: 148 Kendira: 148 Kerpe: 148 Kilisecik: 148 Knossos, Crete: 4, 9–20, 36 House of Frescoes: 4, 9–20 Little Palace: 14 Palace: 9–11 Royal Road: 10 Kumluköy: 148 Lebanon: 164 Lycia: 146 Maçka: 148 Malaspina: 150 Mediterranean: 3, 5, 37, 112, 163 Ancient: 37 Eastern: 3, 5, 112 Middle East: 3, 5, 84, 101, 112, 114, 118, 162–63, 170 Mycenae: 36 Neandria: 146 Near East: 3–4, 86–87, 94, 97, 112, 125, 140, 161 Nemrud Dağ: 146 Nicomedia see İzmit Olynthus: 37 Palmyra: 1–5, 83–97, 101, 104, 107, 111–12, 114–15, 129–43, 161, 163, 165, 167, 170 Forum: 95 funerary see tombs graves see tombs hypogeum of AG: 92 hypogeum of ʿAtenatan: 91 hypogeum of Ḥairan: 90, 91 hypogeum of Malkû: 83, 93, 115–18 lion of Allat: 131 Museum: 84, 118 Qasr Abjad: 106–07 Roman theatre: 104, 131 Sanctuary of Bêl: 104, 131, 133 Southwest necropolis: 4, 83, 85–86, 90–91, 112, 115–18 Temple of Baalshamin: 5, 104, 129, 130–35, 137–41, 143 Tetrapylon: 131 Theatre: 132 Tombs: 2, 83, 84, 85, 86, 89–95, 97, 112 Tower of Elahbel: 131 Triumphal arch: 104, 131, 161–62 Roman sack of: 101, 103, 104, 118

I ndex Paphlagonia: 145, 147, 149, 151 Patara: 146 Perachora,: 36 Poggio: 150 Pompeiopolis see Taşköprü Pontus: 145, 147–49 Prusa see Bursa Prusias ad Hypium see Düzce Pylos: 36 Rome: 125 Salihiyah: 24, 43 Sanctuary of Jupiter Dolichenus, Dülük Baba Tepesi: 146 Sardis: 37 Şile: 148 Sinope: 148 Sparta: 36 Sumela monastery: 149 Syria: 1–2, 4–5, 24, 26–28, 31–35, 37, 43, 83–84, 86–89, 94–96, 101, 103–04, 112, 115, 153, 156, 161–70 Taşköprü: 149 Thynias see Kefken Adası Trabzon: 148 Troad: 146 Turkey: 145–48 Zygouries: 36

3. General Index Aarhus University: 4, 60, 86, 102 Académie des Inscriptions et BellesLettres: 24, 163 ALIPH Foundation: 108, 126 American Society for Overseas Research: 114–15 American University in Beirut: 87 Antiquities of the French High Commissioner of Syria: 129 Arabic see Islamic Arcade Gallery: 105 Archaeological Institute of America: 3 archaeology: 1–35 classical: 25, 101, 107–08, 111–12, 151, 166 development of the discipline: 1, 11, 34–36, 44–46, 50, 59, 88–89, 93–96, 101, 104, 161–64, 166, 169, 172 documentation of fieldwork: 2–4, 11–20, 24–29, 31, 34–36, 42, 55, 56–57, 59–60, 83–85, 90, 92–96, 145, 148, 162, 165–66, 169 ethics: 161–67 excavation practices see development of the discipline of archives: 3, 5, 9, 11–20, 50–52, 55, 59–60, 84, 86, 145–51, 161–64, 169, 171–72

177 partage: 44, 164 provenance of finds: 11–20, 42, 46, 92, 96 virtual: 135, 141 architectural elements: 133, 151 archive archaeology see archaeology of archives Archive Archaeology Project: 1, 5–6, 84, 102, 107–08, 126 archival turn: 114, 161, 169 archives: 1–6, 132–33 access: 1–6, 41–43, 46–47, 51–52, 55–56, 58–59, 83, 85–86, 97, 102–03, 107–08, 161–64, 166–67, 170–71 analogue: 41–42 archaeological: 1, 3–6, 11–20, 41–42, 44–46, 55–59, 84–86, 89–97, 145, 147, 161–65, 167–69, 171 bias: 5, 47, 56, 86, 149, 161, 163, 171 classification: 133, 135–36, 146 conservation, see preservation correspondence: 25–28, 31–32, 35–36, 38 digitization: 1–2, 4–5, 41–42, 46–48, 50–52, 55, 58–59, 84, 102, 107, 132, 146, 161–64, 167–69, 170–71 dissemination see access drawing: 26–29, 31, 133 epistemology: 5, 162 ethics: 5, 41, 43, 50, 89, 162–66, 168 fragmentation: 44–46, 163, 165 historical context: 4–5, 11, 32, 35, 44–46, 50, 83, 85–89, 93–97, 156–57, 162, 164–65, 169 historical: 1, 42, 93–97 impact of: 4, 47, 50, 101, 103, 111 language of: 5, 42–45, 49–50, 52, 86, 107–08, 113, 123, 166 material: 3–5, 41–42, 46–47, 58, 60, 83–86, 97, 111, 133, 169, 170–71 photographic: 1, 4, 13, 28, 31–32, 34, 36, 47, 58, 60, 84, 86, 91, 97, 113, 145, 147–49, 151, 164–65, 169 plans, see drawing potential of: 2–6, 41, 50, 59, 83, 86, 89–90, 97, 102–03, 106, 108, 111, 113–12 preservation: 3, 14–17, 20, 40, 58–59, 139, 162, 166 printed: 2, 4–6, 55, 59, 83 processing of: 101, 105, 162 science of: 114 stakeholder: 171 use of: 101 ArtStor: 24, 58, 164, 171 Asia Minor Studien: 145 Bard College: 41–42 Berlingske Tidende: 107 Birkbeck College, University of London: 161 Black Sea: epigraphy: 149, 151 sculpture: 148, 150–51

Bronze Age: 9–12, 19, 20, 154 Byzantine: 55, 59, 69, 130, 132–33, 137–38, 149–51 Carlsberg Foundation: 6, 86, 98, 108, 126 Centre for Urban Network Evolutions: 4, 55, 83, 108, 126 Civil war, Syria: 2, 52, 84, 101, 103–04, 108, 112, 114, 162, 166 Classical: 55, 148, 150 Collart-Palmyre Project: 5, 129, 132–34, 139, 141 colonialism: 5, 32, 35, 41, 50, 87–89, 96, 104, 139, 157, 162, 170 digital: 108 Combined Library of the Institute of Classical Studies and the Hellenic and Roman Societies: 163, 170 cultural heritage: 1–5, 41, 88, 103, 108, 112, 132, 140–41, 165, 168 anastylosis see recreation 3D model see recreation destruction: 1–4, 41, 84, 103–04, 114–15, 129, 131–32, 139, 147 digital see intangible dissemination of: 103, 107, 168 intangible: 140, 143 local communities: 4–5, 88–89, 94–96, 108, 125, 129, 132, 139–40, 151, 157, 161–67, 17–71 looting: 2, 41, 84, 88, 90–91, 165 preservation: 1, 4–5, 24–28, 36, 41, 84, 101, 103, 104, 107, 108, 139, 165 reconstruction see recreation: recontextualization: 2, 91, 103, 106 recreation: 2, 4, 34, 36–37, 91, 103, 129, 132, 133, 135, 138–39, 141, 161, 164, 167 refugees and: 129 tangible: 140, 143 trafficking: 5, 88, 129, 132–33, 142 transmission: 129, 132, 138–39, 142–43 see also archives Danish-German Jerash Northwest Quarter Project: 60 Danish National Research Foundation: 126, 158 decolonization: 104 digital sciences: 108 Dura-Europos art: 38–39, 44 e-publication: 6, 55, 59, 103, 107 FAIR principles: 56, 107 Figshare: 59, 79, 85, 87, 89, 96–97, 104, 107, 112, 129 Forschungsstelle Asia Minor, University of Münster: 145–58 French Institute of Near Eastern Archaeology in Beirut: 129 French Mandate: 55, 83, 86, 104, 112, 163, 164–65

178 German Archaeological Institute: 145, 147, 167 German Foreign Office: 161 Getty Villa: 105 globalization: 125 Graeco-Roman: 163 Grands sites archéologiques: 161 Greek: art: 87, 146 epigraphy: 130, 133 Hellenistic: 37, 59, 83, 130, 132, 13–39, 148, 150–56, 158 Institute for Digital Archaeology, UK: 161 ISIS: 101, 104, 112, 115, 131 ISIL see ISIS Islamic: 54–55, 60, 72–73, 132, 138–39, 168 J. Paul Getty Museum: 105 Journal of Open Archaeology Data: 107 Journal of Roman Studies: 123 Late Antique: 60, 65, 153–54, 156 legacy data: 1, 3–6, 41–47, 56, 58–59, 83–86, 90, 108, 132, 161, 163–66, 172 archaeological: 1, 12–19, 41–44, 50, 56–59, 85–86, 90, 93–97, 161, 164–66, 170 diaries: 1, 12, 14–19, 47, 58, 83–86, 88–89, 90–95, 97, 163–65 drawing: 12–15, 26–31, 35–39, 42, 58, 83, 85, 91, 163, 165, 169 notebook: 1, 13–19, 42, 44, 47, 58, 83–84, 86, 97, 133, 145–47, 151, 156, 163, 165, 169 notes see notebook painting see drawing London Charter see archaeology, virtual Mamluk: 152, 153–54 Medieval: 59, 148, 151, 153 musical instrument: 32–34 National Museum in Damascus: 28, 31, 44, 164 network theory: 125 New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art: 123 New York, Robert Simon Fine Arts: 105 Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek: 83, 86–87, 92, 97, 102, 107–08, 111–13, 115 open data: 1–2, 4, 6, 41, 55–56, 59–60, 83, 85, 97, 103, 107–08, 132, 134, 161, 164 linked: 42, 48–52 open access see open data Ottoman: 55, 61, 87, 148–49

Index Palmyra Portrait Project: 2, 4, 84, 86, 102, 106–08, 112–13, 126, 161–63 Palmyrene: 1–2, 4, 83–96 archaeology: 1–2, 83–89, 91, 108, 111–12, 114, 126 architecture: 102 art: 1–2, 4, 83, 101–03, 118 banqueting motif: 102, 115, 123–25 culture: 4, 101–02 cultural heritage: 103, 108, 166 epigraphy: 2, 89, 91–92, 97, 133 genealogy: 113, 118, 123 portraiture: 4, 83–86, 91–92, 96–97, 113 sculpture: 4, 84–85, 91–93, 96–97, 101–02, 105–06, 108, 111–12, 115, 118, 123, 125, 134, 140 studies: 4, 101, 103, 107, 112 Parthian empire: 43 -inspired clothes: 115 photography: 26, 36, 47, 50, 133, 149 pottery: 11–20, 71–73, 151 Byzantine-glazed: 151 pre-classical: 151 pre-Hellenistic: 153, 156 published data: 3, 5–6, 59, 97, 149 Rask-Ørsted Foundation: 107, 112 Recogito: 170 Reconstruction Argumentation Method: 135, 137 restoration of archives see archives, conservation Registratur: 114 reuse: 62, 104, 131–32, 138–39, 154–55 rhetorics: 5, 161, 162, 166–67, 172 of discovery: 162, 166–67, 172 of salvation: 162, 166–67, 172 Roman: 4, 9, 17, 29, 55, 59, 62, 69, 74–75, 78–79, 104, 132, 139, 150, 155–56 art: 87, 102, 112, 146 Empire: 43, 67, 103, 141 provincial sculpture: 125 romanization: 112 Russkij archeologiečskij institut v Konstantinopole: 118 Sassanian: 28 Seleucid: 43 scientific revolution: 114 Sevilla Principles see archaeology, virtual Sotheby’s auction house: 105–06 South Shields Museum: 123 Stanley Moss auction house: 105 Studier over Palmyrensk Skulptur: 102, 106, 112–13 Swiss Institute in Rome: 129–30 Syrian Heritage Archive Project: 161, 167

tesserae: 92, 96 Tituli Asiae Minoris: 147 Tulane University: 9 Turkish department of Antiquities: 152 Umayyad: 83 UNESCO: 41, 104, 129, 163 University of Lausanne: 129–32, 134 University of Münster: 145–46, 157 University of Tübingen: 146 UNOSAT: 132 wall painting: 10–11, 24–28, 31, 36, 38, 40, 44–45, 91, 93, 95, 164 Web 2.0: 42, 48 Web 3.0: 48 World War I: 55, 87, 118, 164 World War II: 31, 87, 126, 129, 145 Yale University: 4, 24–26, 28–29, 30, 42, 44, 55–56, 112, 164, 169 Yale University Art Gallery: 23, 24, 27–31, 33, 40, 44, 55–56, 58–60, 74, 163–64

4. Index of Archives Dörner Archive: 5, 145–58 Gerasa Archives: 4, 55–58, 59 Gute archive: 4, 26–40 Ingholt archive: 1–2, 4, 83–86, 89–90, 97, 101–03, 105, 106–08, 111–15, 118, 126 Diaries: 1–2, 4, 83–86, 88, 89–97, 107 Paul Collart Archive: 5, 129, 131–33, 142 Wood collection: 163, 170 Yale Digital Dura-Europos Archive: 4, 24, 42, 49, 56

Archive Archaeology All volumes in this series are evaluated by an Editorial Board, strictly on academic grounds, based on reports prepared by referees who have been commissioned by virtue of their specialism in the appropriate field. The Board ensures that the screening is done independently and without conflicts of interest. The definitive texts supplied by authors are also subject to review by the Board before being approved for publication. Further, the volumes are copyedited to conform to the publisher’s stylebook and to the best international academic standards in the field.

Titles in Series Johannes Østrup, Shifting Horizons: Observations from a Ride Through the Syrian Desert and Asia Minor. A Translation of Johannes Elith Østrup’s ‘Skiftende horizonter’, trans. by Cisca Spencer (2022)

In Preparation The Ingholt Archive: The Palmyrene Material, Transcribed with Commentary and Bibliography, ed. by Olympia Bobou, Amy C. Miranda, Rubina Raja, and Jean-Baptise Yon (4 vols) Shaping Archaeological Archives: Dialogues between Fieldwork, Collection, and Private Archives, ed. by Rubina Raja