October 23, 2014 § Leave a comment
Over the last few weeks, David Pettegrew and I have been working on an article that compares finds data from the Corinthia and from our site of Pyla-Koutsopetria on Cyprus. We were particularly interested in understanding how the types of ceramics that we can identify in survey assemblages shapes the types of economic relationships we can recognize in the Eastern Mediterranean. As one might expect, our focus has been on the Late Roman world, and we have been particularly interested in the difference between the kind of economic relationships manifest in assemblages comprised of highly visible amphoras and those manifest in highly diagnostic Late Roman red slip wares. The entire project is framed by Horden and Purcell’s notion of connectivity and that’s the unifying theme of the volume to which this paper will contribute.
The paper is exciting because it represents a step beyond the work that David has been doing on his book on the Isthmus of Corinth. I’ve read a draft of the book and it’ll be exciting. It also represents the next step for our work with the Pyla-Koutsopetria data. It is significant that all of our survey data upon which this paper is based, is available on Open Context. Our book should be available in time for the holidays.
The draft below is 95% of the way there with only a few niggling citations to clean up. Enjoy and, as always, any comments or critiques would be much appreciated!
September 4, 2014 § Leave a comment
One the best things about being a sabbatiquol is getting a chance to make a dent in my backlog of reading. This week, I pushed on through Leslie Dossey’s Peasant and Empire in Christian North Africa (Berkeley 2010). I am only 5 years late!
As you might guess, I read the book as I am collecting my thoughts and citation for a short article with David Pettegrew comparing evidence for connectivity in the Eastern Corinthia (via EKAS data) and the site of Pyla-Koutsopetria on Cyprus (via PKAP data). David and I will, more or less, follow current trends in discussions of Late Roman trade, but trying to find the fine line between older arguments that recognize most ancient economic activity as state sponsored and more recent arguments that see the economic structure of the ancient world outlined in a series of relationships between interdependent, but relatively autonomous microregions. Juxtaposing these two understandings, of course, implies more of a dichotomy than actually exists. As I argued last week, there is an issue of visibility that complicates matters. Economic activity that took place at a scale sufficiently large to be visible was likely mediated by the state. In fact, most of our typologies of ceramics – particularly transport amphora from Late Antiquity – focus on vessels used for the distribution of agricultural goods on a very large scale. In fact, the scale alone the massive quantities of highly visible Late Roman amphoras compromises an romantic (and frankly silly) notion of an economy powered exclusively by small scale cabboteurs carrying a few amphoras from each port of call.
Dossey’s book sets out one way to understand the relationship between individual communities and large-scale trade in the Mediterranean by arguing that indigenous communities (i.e. communities of not fully Romanized “peasants” in imperial North Africa) acquired growing access the diagnostic Late Roman material over the course of Late Antiquity. This access reflected both change in the status of peasants and, more importantly, the change in consumption patterns. The access peasants had to material associated in earlier periods with Roman or thoroughly Romanized populations of North Africa reflected decisions on the part of the Roman policy and peasant communities. The Roman and Romanized populations depended upon, the consumption of red slip pottery, as a marker of distinction and elite status during the initial centuries of Roman rule in North Africa. This occurred because the Romans undermined the traditional land tenure, village settlement structure, and production patterns in the region and drew peasants onto larger estates where the Romans could exert considerably more control over peasant consumption patterns through social pressures and the increasingly monetized nature of the Roman economy that focused on production for urban elites and export.
For Dossey, then, Roman rule led not to depopulation – as some have argued – but the collapse of an identifiable rural signature for the non-Roman population. The “reappearance” of the rural population in Late Antiquity occurred not because peasants began to reoccupy the countryside, as some have argued, but because of the breakdown of Roman social, economic, and – at least during the 3rd century – political organization. This breakdown had an economic impact in that it motivated the redevelopment of rural industry as it sought to fill the gap left by the larger disrupted economic relationships. The development of rural industry and the breakdown of traditional social and political order also created space for changes in peasant consumption. Not only did peasants have greater access to material, but they also took the opportunity to subvert weakening social pressure by adopting increasingly Roman habits.
While she doesn’t articulate it specifically in this way, Dossey describes Roman and Late Roman consumption patterns (and attendant archaeological visibility) in North Africa as a function of communities of practice. I’ve been messing with these ideas over the last year or so as a way to understand variation in Late Roman ceramic assemblages across the island of Cyprus. Our site at Pyla-Koutsopetria, for example, showed a far greater variety of imported fine wares than, say, the site of Polis-Chrysochous on the western side of the island. Both sites showed signs of 6th century economic prosperity, but it manifest in substantially different assemblages of pottery.
The idea that assemblages are not exclusively representative of access to materials, but also represent decisions by communities adds a level of complexity to my own tendency toward systemic arguments. Both the Eastern Corinthia and Pyla-Koutsopetria are areas that show significant engagement with the economic power of the Late Roman state. At the same time, both areas show distinct assemblages of table and fine ware that hint at the workings of communities there.
August 26, 2014 § 1 Comment
I’ve spent some quality time with the most recent volume of Late Antique Archaeology this past month in preparation for writing a short contribution with David Pettegrew on connectivity in the Late Roman eastern Mediterranean. We plan to compare the Late Roman assemblages produced by two survey projects: Eastern Korinthia Archaeological Project and Pyla-Koutsopetria Archaeology Project. An important component of both assemblages is Late Roman amphoras: EKAS produced substantial quantities of Late Roman 2 Amphora probably produced in the Argolid; PKAP produced quantities of Late Roman 1 Amphora produced both on Cyprus and in southern Cilicia. We hope to discuss how the concentrations of these common transport vessels reflected and complicated how we understand economic patterns in the Late Antiquity.
Over the past half-century two basic models for the Late Roman economy have emerged. The earlier models saw the state as the primary engine for trade in antiquity. More recently, however, scholars have argued that the core feature of ancient trade is small-scale interaction between microregions across the Mediterranean basin. While there is undoubtedly some truth in both models, the latter has substantially more favor among scholars at present and the volume dedicated to connectivity focuses on the kind of small-scale interregional exchange that created a network of social, economic, and even cultural connections that defined the ancient Mediterranean world. The classic question introduced to complicate our view of ancient connectivity is: if the ancient Mediterranean is defined by these small-scale connections, then why did the political, economic, social, and even cultural unity of the communities tied to the Middle Sea collapse with the fall of Roman political organization in Late Antiquity?
This is where David and I want to introduce the complicating matter of formation process archaeology. The substantial assemblages of Late Roman amphora represent the accumulation of discard from two “nodes” within the Late Antique economic network. These two nodes, however, are particularly visible because of the substantial concentration of a class of transport vessel.
These transport vessels most likely served to transport supplies to imperial troops either stationed in the Balkans or around the Black Sea, or in the case of the Eastern Korinthia, working to refortify the massive Hexamilion Wall that ran the width of the Isthmus of Corinth or stationed in its eastern fortress near the sanctuary of Isthmia. The visibility of these two areas depends upon a kind of artifact associated with a kind of exchange. As David has noted the surface treatments associated with LR2 amphora make them highly diagnostic in the surface record. LR1s, in turn, have highly diagnostic, twisted, handles that make them stand out from a surface assemblage dominated by relatively undifferentiated body sherds. In other words, these amphora assemblages represent a visible kind of economic activity.
The impact of this visible type of economic activity on our understanding of Late Roman connectivity is complex. On the one hand, the kind of persistent, low-level, economic connections associated with most models of connectivity are unlikely to leave much evidence on the surface. The diverse and relatively small group of very diverse amphoras, for example, found upon the coasting vessel at Fig Tree Bay on Cyprus would have been deposited at numerous small harbors along its route. Moreover, the fluidity of the networks that characterized connectivity would have made the routes of caboteurs irregular and contingent on various economic situations throughout the network of relationships. This variability and the small-scale of this activity is unlikely to have created an archaeologically visible assemblage at any one point on these routes. More than this, overland trade in wine or olive oil may not have used amphoras at all further impairing the archaeological visibility of the kind of low-level connectivity characteristic of Mediterranean exchange patterns. Between ephemeral containers and variable, low-density scatters, the regular pattern of archaeological exchange characterizing connectivity will never be especially visible in the landscape.
In contrast, imperial provisioning requirements, fueled for example by the quaestura exercitus, would present exceptionally visible assemblages of material. The interesting thing, to me, is that the amphoras visible on the surface in the Korinthia and at Koutsopetria are not what is being exchanged, but the containers in which exchange occurs. The material exchanged, olive oil and wine, are almost entirely invisible in the archaeological records on their own. The visibility of these two places reflects the presence of outlets for a region’s produce. The produce itself, however, leaves very little trace, and we have to assume that networks that integrated microregions across the Mediterranean functioned to bring goods from across a wide area to a particular site for large-scale export.
The collapse of these sites of large-scale export during the tumultuous 7th and 8th centuries did not make trade between microregions end, but it made it more contingent and less visible, as I have argued for this period on Cyprus. The absence of large accumulations of highly diagnostic artifact types in one place represent a return to our ability to recognize normal patterns of Mediterranean exchange as much as the disruption of this exchange. The decline of these sites both deprived archaeologists of visible monuments of exchange and ancient communities of a brief moment of economic stability within longstanding contingent networks.
August 6, 2014 § Leave a comment
David Pettegrew and I are working up a paper for a volume on connectivity in the ancient Mediterranean. Connectivity has been a buzz word in Mediterranean archaeology since Horden and Purcell’s The Corrupting Sea used it to describe the regular pattern of small-scale connections between microregions. These microregions depend upon connectivity for political and social stability and economic subsistence.
Our original plan was to compare the artifact assemblages at our two research sites on Cyprus: Polis-Chrysochous and Pyla-Koutsopetria and show how these two sites engaged the broader Mediterranean world in a different ways. They not only showed links to different regional networks of exchange, but also showed different kinds of relationships to these networks. Polis, for example, was a small city and Koutsopetria seems to have been a regional emporium directed toward the export of agricultural goods.
After mulling this paper over for a few weeks (and missing some deadlines and conjuring enthusiasm for various arguments), we decided to take a shot at making a very generous deadline extension and turn the paper in a different direction. David is almost finished his book on the history of the Corinthian Isthmus based heavily on the work of the Eastern Korinthia Archaeological Survey (EKAS) and we have also recently submitted our completed manuscript documenting our intensive survey at Pyla-Koutsopetria. So it occurred to us that we might productively compare the results from these two survey projects as they share methods and sampling strategies.
More than that, the assemblages produced by comparable methods have certain clear similarities. Both study areas produced an abundance of Late Romam material particular easily-identified Late Roman amphoras. In the case of Koutsopetria, these are largely Late Roman type 1 amphora. In the Corinthia, the survey area produced a substantial quantity of Late Roman type 2 amphoras. While neither amphora was produced locally, both are regional types and LR1 kilns are known on Cyprus and there are LR2 kilns in the Southern Argolid. Both of these amphora types have been associated with forms of administrative trade in the Late Roman world, and provisioning the army on the borders of the empire in particular.
Connectivity has tended to focus on the small-scale trade between interdependent microregions rather than the larger-scale, administrative trade. In fact, considering the role of this larger-scale trade in our notions of connectivity marks a return to older notions of trade in the Late Roman world which saw economic activity largely stimulated by the requirements of supplying the capital and the armies. The Corinthian Isthmus featured both imperially funded construction in the Hexamilion wall and, at least in the 6th century, a garrison of troops at fortress at Isthmia. The appearance of LR2 amphora in this context suggests the movement of goods into the area most likely to provision the garrison and to supply construction crews associated with the Hexamilion wall renovations in the 6th century.
At Koutsopetria, the abundance of LR1 is perhaps tied to the need to supply the army in the Balkans. The site may have served as a transshipment point for agricultural produce leaving Cyprus through the small embayment there. The numerous fragments of amphora there makes it unlikely that they represent goods coming into a small community, but more likely represented exports. The uniformity of the amphora types also suggests that goods are flowing out from the site in a systematic way.
The advantage of comparing these two study areas is to present a useful counterpoint to the common view of connectivity that emphasizes links between microregions. Our paper will return to a view of the Mediterranean that considers the links between small places and the center while at the same time attempting to understand how these connections influence their relationships to other small places in their regions.
June 25, 2014 § Leave a comment
Every now and then when I’m in the field, I panic about falling behind in my journal reading and letting the ENTIRE DISCIPLINE PASS ME BY.
WHAT?? Archaeological Dialogues has an issue dedicated to ROMANIZATION? I thought about that once, like four years ago! I must… read… now!
WORLD ARCHAEOLOGY has forthcoming volume dedicated to the archaeology of sound? I know people working on that RIGHT NOW and how can I possibly interact with them without being familiar with soon-to-be-published articles. More than that, I’m an audiophile and I need to understand the archaeology of connectors. And I’ve done archaeology of the contemporary world (forthcoming) so I must understand what was albums were found on the floor of a commune where the Grateful Dead once live.
It’s not that it has to happen eventually – like say while I’m on sabbatical – it has to happen now.
So instead of spending a weekend catching up on vital scholarship and remaining relevant to my discipline, I decided to clean up some audio file that I captured over the past few weeks in the field.
On my hike to the cave, I encounter a fairly agitated hawk and this what he (or she) sounded like:
We’ve also had the good fortune of encountering some very vocal goats:
And some excitable frogs (especially at night!):
Finally, you can faintly hear the bells of the church at Kaparelli at the western edge of our survey area:
June 25, 2014 § Leave a comment
This is mainly to start a blog post with the line that I want you use at the beginning of an important article:
“The study of Ottoman bridges in the Western Argolid remains in its infancy. The goal of this brief article is to bring attention to a small, but important body of Ottoman bridge work in this region.”
This lovely arch spanned a small ravine and carried a switchback kalderimi road down a low saddle to the village of Lyrkeia and our survey area. The stone work is lovely consisting of local grey limestone faces with smaller stones used as chinking. The arch itself is made of thinner stones arranged carefully with a substantial quantity of pebbly white mortar.
The road that leads to this bridge runs on its own carefully wrought terrace through olive groves. The is evidence that the bedrock had been cut back to let the road pass more easily. The bedrock was close enough to the surface to allow it serve as paving for part of the route, and it probably made this particular field appealing for use as a road (and less than appealing for agriculture!).
May 28, 2014 § Leave a comment
The Western Argolid Regional Project has the distinct benefit of two senior staff members who specialize in Late Antiquity. Scott Gallimore, one of the co-directors, recently finished a dissertation on Late Roman Crete, and people who read this blog should be pretty aware of my interest in that period.
This concentration on the Late Antiquity is, at first blush, appropriate for a project in the Argolid which scholars have long understood to be a center of activity in this period. The city of Argos, for example, appeared on most of the prominent Late Antique geographies, and had a prominent bishop in Late Antiquity who attended the council of Constantinople in 381, Chacedon in 451, and Constantinople II in 680. The ancient city was riddled with Early Christian basilicas, cemeteries, and mosaic fragments of Late Roman date. So-called, “slavic” pottery, appeared in Argos suggesting that it saw a change in material culture consistent with sites elsewhere in the northeastern Peloponnesus.
Outside of Argos, there is evidence for rather intensive activities throughout the coastal region of the Argolic Gulf. The village of Myloi, where we stay, produced a Late Roman building, probably an exurban villa, of Late Roman date, and Late Roman activity extended inland from there around the village of Skaphadaki. Across the Gulf, Nauplion produced inscriptions of the 4th century (and an informal walk through town reveals spolia of Late Antique date) and a villa was discovered near the site of Asine – better known for its earlier remains. In the well-explored Southern Argolid, Halieis and Hermione witnessed signifiant activities in Late Antiquity with the former a production center for Late Roman 2 amphora and the latter featuring a Early Christian basilica complex with impressive mosaics and inscriptions mentioning a bishop Hermias. Troezene appears in Hierokles and was a center of ecclesiastical activity with a basilica and inscriptions, and despite its coastal location it appears to have survived into the 8th century with a bishop appearing at the Second Council of Nicaea reinforced with evidence from seals. The churches in the area of Epidauros are well-known and long thought to be among the earliest in Greece (on the dubious basis of architectural style). At Ano Epidauros a substantial quantity of Late Antique activity appeared, including the intriguing church at Lailoteika which may date to the 7th century or later. Scholars have long debated the reason for the Late Antique flourishing of activity on the small islands of the Saronic Gulf like Spetses, Dolkos, and Chinitsa which seems to have continued in the 7th century.
The Late Romans did not spare the Argolid’s famous Bronze Age sites, with the neighborhood of Limnes, Prosymna, and the mighty Tiryns producing Early Christian graves and the citadel of Midea featuring activities in the 5th or 6th centuries.
To use a vivid Appalachian saying: you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting Late Roman or Early Christian remains in the Argolid.
In contrast, the valleys of the Western Argolid including our survey area which follows the upper reaches of the Inachos River from the village of Kaparelli east through Lyrkeia and ancient Orneai, toward Sterna and the northwestern suburbs of Argos. This region is a blank space without almost no published sites of Late Roman date. In fact, the most prominent Late Roman site in our survey area appears in a two-page reference to some Early Christian remains around the village of Lyrkeia by Dimitrios Pallas in the ADeltion of 1960 (pp. 100-101).
Needless to say, this is odd. The valley bottom is fertile and the river provided a transportation route between the densely settled Argive plains and Arcadia which continued to prosper at least judging from the numerous buildings of Late Roman in this region. Moreover, the (relatively) easily traversed passes, strategic hill tops, and accessible valley walls, presented exactly the kind of topography to attract the attention of Late Roman military planners. This kind of “marginal land” also tended to attract Late Roman settlement. Recent scholarship has seen 5th and the first half of the 6th centuries as a period of population growth and settlement expansion manifest in monumental architecture and extensive trade in easily recognized ceramic types. In other words, the upper Inachos valley is exactly the kind of place where you’d expect Late Roman activity.