Back Views of the Ancient Greek Kithara

1975 ◽  
Vol 95 ◽  
pp. 175-175
Author(s):  
Martha Maas

In an appendix to their article ‘Lute-Players in Greek Art’ (JHS lxxxv [1965], 62–71) R. A. Higgins and R. P. Winnington-Ingram included useful material on the shape of the kithara, with a list of representations that attempt to show the depth and shape of the back of the kithara sound-box. The list includes a mid-sixth-century metope from Delphi, back views from late fifth-century to late fourth-century coins, Hellenistic terra-cottas, and a back view on a late second- or early first-century relief, Athens National Museum 1966. These more-or-less three-dimensional objects show us a characteristic of the kithara that may affect the possibilities of playing technique, one that cannot be guessed by looking at the many front-view paintings: the back of the kithara soundbox bulges out at the top, tapering toward the base; and in examples from the fifth century and later, it rises to a vertical ridge running down the centre of the back.To this group of objects should be added one more important item from the fifth century: the back view of a kithara which is part of the Parthenon frieze of the Panathenaic procession (447–432 B.C.).

Author(s):  
Simone Beta

‘Comic’ is not an adjective one would normally use in connection with or ancient Greek Byzantine riddles. Yet Greek riddles began to show their comic side after the fifth century BCE, when they became typical sympotic pastimes. At some point, ainigmata turned into griphoi and, according to the definition given by the Peripatetic philosopher Clearchus of Soli, became a ‘a problem put in jest’. The comicality we see in in the many griphoi Athenaeus took from Attic comedy in the tenth book of the Deipnosophists is more evident, and less dangerous; and it is generally agreed that such drollery is mostly absent from Byzantine riddles. A survey shows how the unknown Byzantine authors who took pleasure in composing these little conundrums were even able, in some circumstances, to jest with Holy Scripture and to linger on topics more suitable for Old Comedy.


Author(s):  
Lawrence J. Bliquez

The chapter looks at Greek and Roman surgical instruments. The survival of Greco-Roman surgical instruments falls into two divisions: tools available in Hippocratic times (fifth to fourth century bce), and instruments at the disposal of surgeons, mostly Greek, from the late Republic through the Empire (first century bce to fifth century ce). From the former, most survivals are cupping vessels from graves. The texts suggest the Hippocratic physician often created his tool on the spot or had a tool prepared for an immediate need, whereas most of an Imperial surgeon’s repertoire consisted of instruments professionally made and sold by smiths. The various kinds of instruments are described, explained, and illustrated: cupping vessels, scalpels, phlebotomes (for phlebotomy), lithotomes (for bladder stones), needles, probes, cauteries, hooks, forceps, saws, drills, chisels, files, levers, tubes, douches, specula, and abortives.


2014 ◽  
Vol 64 (1) ◽  
pp. 91-120 ◽  
Author(s):  
Simon Hornblower

The subject of this paper is a striking and unavoidable feature of theAlexandra: Lykophron's habit of referring to single gods not by their usual names, but by multiple lists of epithets piled up in asyndeton. This phenomenon first occurs early in the 1474-line poem, and this occurrence will serve as an illustration. At 152–3, Demeter has five descriptors in a row: Ἐνναία ποτὲ | Ἕρκυνν' Ἐρινὺς Θουρία Ξιφηφόρος, ‘Ennaian … Herkynna, Erinys, Thouria, Sword-bearing’. In the footnote I give the probable explanations of these epithets. Although in this sample the explanations to most of the epithets are not to be found in inscriptions, my main aim in what follows will be to emphasize the relevance of epigraphy to the unravelling of some of the famous obscurity of Lykophron. In this paper, I ask why the poet accumulates divine epithets in this special way. I also ask whether the information provided by the ancient scholiasts, about the local origin of the epithets, is of good quality and of value to the historian of religion. This will mean checking some of that information against the evidence of inscriptions, beginning with Linear B. It will be argued that it stands up very well to such a check. TheAlexandrahas enjoyed remarkable recent vogue, but this attention has come mainly from the literary side. Historians, in particular historians of religion, and students of myths relating to colonial identity, have been much less ready to exploit the intricate detail of the poem, although it has so much to offer in these respects. The present article is, then, intended primarily as a contribution to the elucidation of a difficult literary text, and to the history of ancient Greek religion. Despite the article's main title, there will, as the subtitle is intended to make clear, be no attempt to gather and assess all the many passages in Lykophron to which inscriptions are relevant. There will, for example, be no discussion of 1141–74 and the early Hellenistic ‘Lokrian Maidens inscription’ (IG9.12706); or of the light thrown on 599 by the inscribed potsherds carrying dedications to Diomedes, recently found on the tiny island of Palagruza in the Adriatic, and beginning as early as the fifth centuryb.c.(SEG48.692bis–694); or of 733–4 and their relation to the fifth-centuryb.c.Athenian decree (n. 127) mentioning Diotimos, the general who founded a torch race at Naples, according to Lykophron; or of 570–85 and the epigraphically attested Archegesion or cult building of Anios on Delos, which shows that this strange founder king with three magical daughters was a figure of historical cult as well as of myth.


2011 ◽  
Vol 28 (2) ◽  
pp. 181-215 ◽  
Author(s):  
John R. Wallach

This article interprets demokratia and arete as dynamically related terms of political thought in ancient Greek culture, from Homeric times to the end of the classical era. It does so selectively, identifying three stages in which this relationship is developed: (1) from the Homeric to archaic eras; (2) fifth-century Athenian democracy, in which demokratia and arete are posed as complementary terms; and (3) the fourth century era in which philosophers used virtue to critique democracy. Relying mostly on evidence from writers who have become benchmarks in the history of Western political thought, the argument emphasizes the inherently political dimension of arete during this period of ancient Greek culture. Noting different ways in which arete is related to political power in general and democracy in particular, it also illustrates the manner in which arete is neither philosophically pristine nor merely an instrument of practical power. The effect of the research contradicts traditional and recent readings of democracy and virtue as inherently antagonistic. The aim of the article is to identify ancient Greek contributions to understanding the potential, contingencies and dangers of the relationship between democracy (as a form of power) and virtue (as a form of ethics) — one which may benefit both democracy and virtue.


Author(s):  
Johannes Zachhuber

This chapter traces the initial reception of the Cappadocian philosophy. In a first section, two major early fifth-century thinkers, Cyril of Alexandria and Theodoret of Cyrus, are shown to presuppose all major principles of the Cappadocian theory. A second section argues that this unique position of the three fourth-century thinkers was related to their role as paradigms of Christian education. The remainder of the chapter turns to the Christological controversy. Remarkably, the Cappadocian theory was applied to a wide variety of doctrinal topics but not initially to Christology. Yet this application became universally shared from the early sixth century onwards. The present chapter therefore examines the roots of this later convention. To this end, two distinct phenomena are examined: the Apollinarian controversy of the late fourth century and the emergence of the so-called double homoousion as an increasingly accepted formula suggesting a conceptual parallel between the Trinity and Christology.


Author(s):  
Peter Wothers

It was not until the late eighteenth century—over a hundred years after the discovery of phosphorus—that it was appreciated that both phosphorus and sulfur were actually elements. Prior to this time, it was thought that all matter was made up of four so-called elements: earth, air, fire, and water. The realization that this was not so centred on understanding that the air is actually composed of a number of different gases, and in particular, understanding what happens when things burn. The discovery that water could be broken down into, or indeed synthesized from, two simpler elementary substances started a chemical revolution in France. The fruits of this revolution are embodied in the very names we now use for these two components, hydrogen and oxygen. However, the path to enlightenment was tortuous, lasting over 200 years. At its peak at the end of the eighteenth century, chemists fell into two distinct camps—those for the new French chemistry, and those against it. Several different names were given to the gases before ‘hydrogen’ and ‘oxygen’ triumphed. As it turns out, one of these names is still based on an incorrect theory, and it might have been more appropriate if the names hydrogen and oxygen had been swapped around. From the sixth century BC, the ancient Greek philosopher Thales taught that water was the primary matter from which all other substances were formed. Perhaps this idea came from water’s ready ability to form solid ice, ‘earth’, or vapours and mists, ‘airs’. Other philosophers thought the primary substance was air; others still, fire. It was less common for earth to be thought of in this way, possibly, as Aristotle later wrote, because it was too coarse-grained to make up these fluids. In the fifth century BC Empedokles brought the four ‘elements’ together—earth, air, fire, and water—and for many centuries it was thought that these made up everything around us.


1975 ◽  
Vol 55 (2) ◽  
pp. 295-337 ◽  
Author(s):  
Martin Biddle

SummaryThe excavations of 1971 concluded the eleven-year programme begun in 1961. Eight sites were investigated in a season whose main emphasis was on the Roman and Anglo-Saxon periods down to about A. D. 1000. The Iron Age defences were examined at Assize Courts North and shown to date to the mid first century B.C. The Roman defences were sectioned at Castle Yard. The Roman south gate was discovered and its development followed from c. A.D. 70. Inside the Roman city extensive areas were examined at Lower Brook Street and Wolvesey Palace. At the former a possible military phase of the mid first century A.D. was followed by urban development c. A.D. 70 which continued down into the fifth century and included a Romano-Celtic temple and a large late third- or fourth-century workshop. At Wolvesey one house was entirely excavated and parts of two others examined. At Lankhills the excavation of the late Roman cemetery was concluded with a further season in 1972. A total of about 450 graves, many of them furnished and ranging in date from c. A.D. 310 to the early fifth century, was examined in 1967–72. A small fourth-century cemetery was excavated at Winnall. Information about the defence of the late Roman town was provided by the discovery of a bastion added to the town wall at South Gate, and by the implications of structures and objects from Lower Brook Street, Wolvesey, and Lankhills. Important evidence for the state of Winchester in the fifth to ninth centuries was recovered from South Gate, Lower Brook Street, and Wolvesey. At South Gate the gate was blocked first by a ditch and then by a wall, probably in the eighth century.


2013 ◽  
Vol 44 (2) ◽  
pp. 195-217
Author(s):  
R. W. Burgess

Abstract A late eighth-century Latin translation of a Greek Alexandrian chronograph of the second quarter of the sixth century contains a reference to a Sosates, who is described as a “Jewish Homer” who lived in Alexandria. The first, and most complicated, difficulty with this short entry is determining Sosates’ date, which would seem to be the second quarter of the first century B.C.E. The next difficulty is working out what “Jewish Homer” means. Clues are provided by the Jewish poets Philo, Theodotus, and Ezekiel, who used Greek tragic and epic verse to describe Jewish content including the Old Testament, and by the later tradition of Christian Biblical epic in Greek and Latin, which we know of from the fourth century onwards. These examples suggest that Sosates turned some part of the early books of the Old Testament into Homeric verse.


1970 ◽  
Vol 23 ◽  
pp. 195-208
Author(s):  
Olof Brandt

In the study of ancient buildings and monuments, only on rare occasions, there is a crystal-clear relationship between the information given by texts and that found in the physical remains of the structure. A good example is the U-shaped basilica in the complex of San Lorenzo fuori le mura in Rome, excavated in 1950. Usually it is identified with a basilica built in the early fourth century by Emperor Constantine, according to the sixth-century source Liber Pontificalis. Another text in the same source mentions also another basilica, built or repaired in the fifth century by Pope Sixtus III, which by some scholars have been identified with San Lorenzo fuori le mura. Other scholars have preferred to see this fifth-century basilica in the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina, but this paper stresses that recent research in other fields makes this identification is impossible, concluding, for this and other reasons, that the basilica of Sixtus III probably is San Lorenzo fuori le mura but that this Pope perhaps only repaired the church, which probably was built by Constantine.


1932 ◽  
Vol 26 (3-4) ◽  
pp. 195-208 ◽  
Author(s):  
R. P. Winnington-Ingram

Ancient Greek music was purely or predominantly melodic; and in such music subtleties of intonation count for much. If our sources of information about the intervals used in Greek music are not always easy to interpret, they are at any rate fairly voluminous. On the one hand we have Aristoxenus, by whom musical intervals were regarded spatially and combined and subdivided by the processes of addition and subtraction; for him the octave consisted of six tones, and the tone was exactly divisible into fractions such as the half and quarter, so that the fourth was equal to two tones and a half, the fifth to three tones and a half, and so on. On the other hand we have preserved for us in Ptolemy's Harmonics the computations of a number of mathematicians, who realized correctly that intervals could only be expressed as ratios (e.g. of string-lengths), that the octave was less than the sum of six whole tones and that this tone could not be divided into equal parts. These authorities are Archytas, the Pythagorean of the early fourth century, Eratosthenes (third century), Didymus (first century) and Ptolemy himself (second century A.D.). To these we must add the scale of Plato's Timaeus (35B) and, closely related to it, the computations of the pseudo-Philolaus (ap. Boethium, Mus. Ill, 8) and of Boethius himself (IV, 6). Aristoxenus is less easy to understand than the mathematicians because of the unscientific nature of his postulates. His importance, however, is very great, not only from his comparatively early date but because he claims to champion the direct musical consciousness against the scientific approach of some of his predecessors and contemporaries.


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