I just came home from a week long field trip to the Peloponnese. While this was my second and third time at some of the sites, the views, architecture, and just down and dirty archaeology never cease to amaze me.
After piling on the bus and crossing over the Corinth Canal, we arrived at one of my favorite sites: Mycenae. I felt like I was going back home. I visited this site during my dig (see previous posts) and I've spent the better part of the summer obsessing about the Mycenaean civilization.
As we ascended the pathway up to the huge walls of the citadel, I was literally skipping. I believe the phrase Cloud 9 comes to mind. We toured the ancient citadel and tholos tombs, stopping to have a picnic lunch at the edge of the site.
Alan, Sam, and I at Mycenae
Even though I had enough pictures of the site from my last trip here to fill a few extra large photo albums (I think I inherited that trait from my mom) I still felt the overwhelming urge to capture every rock and view and corbelled vault.
Our hotel was in the city of Nafplio, just about 20 minutes away from Mycenae. It is a gorgeous little city with oodles of character and charm. This was the city that was intended to be Greece's capital, instead of Athens, after the War of Independence. It is right on the water and the Old Town is lined with little boutiques and gelato shops, perfect for a stroll.
One of the "Seven Brothers" that protected the port of Nafplio during the Ottoman Occupation.
Not all the sites we visited were ancient. Mystra was a hilltop city in the Middle Ages, loaded with ruins of old churches and castles, with even a functioning nunnery. The views were breathtaking, almost rivaling Meteora for the "Most Picturesque" superlative.
Melanie and I at Mystra
We also stopped off at Epidaurus, Sparta, Delphi (you know, gotta consult that oracle!), and Olympia.
The Delphi Charioteer
At Olympia, we got to the museum just as it was opening. The combination of that and the fact that it is the off-season for tourists meant that we practically had the museum all to ourselves. When we walked into the room where the pediments were displayed, it was an out of body experience. These works of art are some of my favorite pieces. The images of Apollo and Zeus are striking yet reserved, truly deserving the title: masterpiece.
I love everything about these sculptures. What I love most is the power behind the sculpture. When looking at them, you directly connect with those living 2500 years ago. Your eyes and their eyes have gazed at the same image, which has generated the same emotions in each viewer. It is like gazing at the stars. A common focal point, seen from multiple planes and distances, unites all gazes into one unified vision. An image holds such power and beauty, things I repeatedly underestimate. A simple image contains so much knowledge, yet refuses to share it unless its hard shell of interpretation is cracked. It can be distorted and mistook, yet it yearns, almost shouts, to be understood. It is a mind bending brain teaser that beckons the eager scholar or the unintentional passerby. An image clasps onto you without any intention of letting you go. Fighting with an image only tightens its hold. Its water stain can be deep, unable to be washed off or rubbed out. The literal, visual sight be be gone, the the effect lingers like a smelly uncle, or burnt toast, or strong perfume, or freshly washed clothes. It can hug you and pierce you.
The artist is able to instill this feeling with only lines and shadow. He has survived the ages through his art. He lives forever in his crisp marble, preserved for posterity to marvel in awe and wonder at his ability to capture the emotion of the scene, the fluid nature of the body, the gaze of the eye, in heavy flat rock, lifeless inorganic matter.
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