Franz Kafka (c. 1883-1924)
“Everyone knows something about us, either the truth as far as they know it, or at least some rumour they’ve heard or more often made up, and everyone thinks about us more than necessary, but no one will tell you straight, they can’t bring themselves to talk about such things. And they’re right not to.”
Armenia, in the 7th century, was caught between two feuding empires. On the one hand, the region had been under Roman influence for well over a millennium. But, like much of the Roman Empire’s Middle Eastern and North African provinces in the 7th century, Armenia faced attacks by Arab armies, challenging the Roman/Byzantine capital of Constantinople’s ability to maintain control of the area. Armenia was largely occupied by the Arabs in successive military campaigns that occurred around 640, 643, and 650. By that point, the Arabs considered the region to be generally conquered, especially when the Armenian nobleman and regional military commander, Theodore Rshtuni, subsequently submitted in 653 to the eventual founder of the Umayyad Dynasty, Mu’awiya (r. 661-680). Yet, pockets of pro-Byzantine and anti-Arab resistance remained, launching attacks against the occupiers and keeping in contact with the emperors of Constantinople.
Although most of Armenia was under Arab influence by the time Mu’awiya became caliph, the emperors of Constantinople were able to help shape the remaining rebel strongholds of the Armenian borderland into buffer zones of resistance. Notably, Emperor Constans II of Constantinople (r. 641-668/669) managed to claw back some influence in Armenia around 657 or 658. His son, Emperor Constantine IV (r. 668-685), negotiated a truce with Mu’awiya after fending off the Umayyad leader’s unsuccessful siege of Constantinople between 674-678. And the Umayyad leader, Abd al-Malik (r. 685-705), negotiated a joint-rule scheme with Emperor Justinian II (r. 685-695, 705-711) that included conflict regions like Armenia. Justinian later broke the agreement and positioned troops for an Anatolic campaign, but the emperor’s amassed regional forces were dealt a decisive defeat by their Umayyad opponents in the Battle of Sebastopolis around 692 or 693, causing much of Anatolia to fall back under Arab sway. Unpopular Emperor Justinian II then was deposed by Emperor Leontios (r. 695-698), who in turn was supplanted by Tiberius III (r. 698-705), and both of those usurpers fared just as poorly or worse than Justinian against the Umayyads.
Despite the imperial chaos and drama back in Constantinople, the Armenian resistance was still alive and maintained a hope of throwing off Umayyad rule. Around the year 703 or 704, a sizable Armenian rebellion broke out against the Arab authorities stationed in the region, and the rebels reached out for military assistance from the reigning emperor of Constantinople, Tiberius III (known informally as Apsimar or Apsimaros). On this, the chronicler Theophanes (c. 750s-818) wrote, “In this year the leaders of Armenia rebelled against the Saracens and killed the Saracens there. They sent messengers to Apsimaros, who brought the Romans into their country” (Theophanes, Chronographia, entry for Annus Mundi 6195 [Sep. 703-Aug. 704]). The initial revolt, therefore, was a success. With the Umayyad governing officials defeated by the rebel forces and a new garrison of imperial troops on the way from Apsimaros/ Tiberius III, the situation was beginning to look promising for the resistance. Alas, when the imperial reinforcements arrived, they were too few in number, and far from effective.
Unfortunately for the Armenian rebels, the Arab leaders quickly pulled together a military force to confront the revolt, and the Umayyads committed more manpower, resources, and talented officers than Constantinople had dispatched to the region. Consequently, the Arab forces went on to carry out an efficient and decisive campaign against the rebellion. Emperor Tiberius III’s garrison there was defeated, the revolt was crushed, and the rebel leaders were captured. Theophanes described the fate of the rebellion and its principal figures, stating that the Arab general’s “campaign against them killed many. Once he had resubjected Armenia to the Saracens, he gathered the Armenian grandees together and burned them alive” (Theophanes, Chronographia, entry for Annus Mundi 6195). With the defeat of the Armenian rebels and the execution of its leaders, the emperors of Constantinople were dealt a major blow to their ambition of regaining influence in Armenia.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Camp Fire, by Winslow Homer (1836–1910), [Public Domain] via the MET).
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American artist Charles Frederick Ulrich (1858–1908) was inspired to paint this scene of Muranese glassblowers around 1886 after he visited the island of Murano in the Venetian Lagoon of Italy. Murano’s glass industry has truly ancient roots, reaching back over a millennium to the time of the Roman Empire. In that era, Murano and the other islands of the Venetian Lagoon were seen as safe havens for refugees, and Romans fled to the islands when waves of chaos and bloodshed ravaged the Italian mainland. It was that crucible of war and conflict that set the settlement of the Venetian islands in motion and shaped the Venetian culture for industry, commerce, and glassmaking.
King Alaric of the Visigoths invaded Italy in 401 and sacked the city of Rome in 410. The Huns began attacking the Romans around a decade later, when the leader, Rua (also known as Ruga), invaded the region of Thrace in 422 and imposed extortionary tribute payments in exchange for peace. Rua’s nephew, Attila amped up the Hun war efforts, eviscerating the Balkan and Greek regions of the Eastern Roman Empire in the 440s. Attila then turned his ire to the Western Roman Empire, invading Gaul (France) in 451 and Italy in 452. The threat of the Huns prompted many people in the cities around the Gulf of Venice to flee to the islands of the Venetian Lagoon, where major settlement and development began in the 5th century.
A renewed wave of settlement occurred a century later, when King Alboin of the Lombards (r. 560s-572) invaded Italy in 568. The Emperors of Constantinople recognized Venice as a strategic defensive position in their war against the Lombards, and Byzantine forces (as well as accompanying priests, craftsmen, and camp followers) were stationed on the islands of the lagoon by the 7th century. Murano, like many of the other islands of the lagoon, saw settlement in this chaotic period between the 5th and 7th centuries. Notably, the inhabitants of the Venetian Lagoon quickly took to glassmaking, as, according to archaeological evidence, there was a noticeable glass industry in the region as early as the 6th or 7th century.
In the following centuries, Venice achieved autonomy and relative independence (although they remained titularly under Constantinople’s control) during the complicated political power shifts between Constantinople’s Byzantine Empire and Charlemagne’s ascendant Frankish empire (which set the seeds for the Kingdoms of France and Italy, and the Germanic Holy Roman Empire). The time period was made all the more tumultuous by Norman invasions of Italy, and especially the era of the Crusades (1095-1291). It was an age rife for opportunism and dealmaking, and the Venetians excelled at both. During that time of war and chaos, Venice became a dominant sea power in the Mediterranean, setting up a network of trade ports that crossed international boundaries and generated incredible wealth for Venetian merchants.
Although glassmakers had been present in the Venetian Lagoon since the 6th or 7th century, a major turning point for the Venetian glass industry was the 13th century. A catalyst may have been Venice’s role in the Fourth Crusade, when the Venetians and Crusaders captured the imperial city of Constantinople in 1204. During the looting of the great city and the aftermath of the war, the Venetians seized Byzantine glass techniques and brought imperial glassworkers back to Venice. Amid this influx of glass production, a Venetian glassblower guild was formed around 1224, and a decision was subsequently made to move and consolidate the glassblowing workshops to the island of Murano in 1291. The glassblowers embraced ancient glass styles, such as the murrine (mosaic) and millefiori (thousand flower) techniques. In the following centuries, Muranese glassblowers innovated and made new discoveries. Notably, Angelo Barovier (1405-1460) invented a method to produce clear cristallo glass. The 15th century also saw the advent of the aventurine technique (clear glass with metallic powder or particles), as well as the marbled and stone-like calcedonio glass. In the 16th century, advances in glass engraving were achieved, and it was also in that century that the filigrana technique (often mislabeled as latticino or latticinio in the English language market) was created, in which glass canes or threads are arranged to make complex patterns. Murano’s glassmakers found that there was a high demand in Europe for their glass products, and the Venetian trade network was readily available to facilitate the commerce.
Murano reached a peak in glass production in the 16th century, when the glassworker community on the island was reportedly more than 30,000 people strong. Yet, with so many people aware of Murano’s trade secrets, the industry became susceptible to state and corporate espionage. During the course of the 16th century, many other major European powers managed to acquire Murano’s techniques and were able to produce their own Venetian-styled glass. By the 18th century, major Murano masters, themselves, were leaving their island to set up shop in other countries. With the loss of the monopoly on their techniques and the departure of some master glassblowers, the Venetian and Muranese glass industry experienced a lull in popularity, which negatively impacted Muranese business, morale, and enthusiasm.
At the turn of the 18th century into the 19th century, Venice was in crisis—both economically and geopolitically. Economically, the Muranese glassblowers had not yet adjusted to the reality of vibrant foreign competition and a reduction in demand for Venetian glass. Geopolitically, it was the time when post-Revolution France was at war with the rest of Europe, and Venice became embroiled in the conflicts. Amid the fighting, France and Austria arranged for Venice to be placed under Austrian control in the 1797 Treaty of Campo Formio. Following this treaty, Napoleon became First Consul (r. 1799–1804) and then Emperor of France (r. 1804–1814/15). Later, the Prussians forced Austria to finally cede Venice to the Kingdom of Italy in 1866. Fittingly, this reunification of Venice with Italy also coincided with a growing mid-century revival for the glassmakers on Murano.
Major players in the revival at that time were the Salviati, Barovier and Toso families. Of these names, the first to start their business was the Toso clan, with Angelo, Carlo, Ferdinando, Giovanni, Gregorio and Liberato Toso founding their Fratelli Toso company in 1854. Their financial needs were met by creating bottles and pieces for lighting fixtures (like chandeliers and candelabras), but they were also known to produce award-winning glass art that they displayed at exhibitions. A few years later, Antonio Salviati (1816-1890), a lawyer who was struck by a passion for glassmaking, formed a company called Salviati Dott. Antonio fu Bartolomeo in 1859 with the prominent glassmaker Lorenzo Radi (who had previously rediscovered how to produce calcedonio glass in 1856). This would be the first of many iterations of the Salviati & C. (or Salviati & Co.) business. Notably, it was also around this same span of time that the Murano Glass Museum was founded in 1861 by Antonio Colleoni (1811-1855) and Abbot Vincenzo Zanetti (1824-1883). They also set up a school for glassblowing in 1862.
Antonio Salviati was an excellent marketer and salesman. On the one hand, he achieved prestigious contracts, such as his company’s manufacturing of a Last Supper mosaic for the high altar of Westminster Abbey between 1867-1873, but, on the other hand, he also pushed his company toward a mass-production model catered to more affordable glass products. Around the time of the Westminster Abbey project, Antonio Salviati partnered with English investors, notably Sir Austen Henry Layard (c. 1817-1894), and they created another company called Societá Anonima per Azioni Salviati & C. in 1866. The name of that business was changed to The Venice & Murano Glass & Mosaic Company Limited (Salviati & C.) in 1872, but there were growing tensions between the English and Italian partners.
Meanwhile, around the same time, the Fratelli Toso company, began leaning more into art glass and won their first gold medal at the 1864 Murano Glass Exhibition (their first of many), and acquired a deal that same year to create reproductions of historical Venetian Renaissance art based on the Murano Museum collection. As Fratelli Toso continued to win gold medals at other expos every year or so (1867, 1868, 1869, 1872…), Antonio Salviati was navigating himself into new business deals. The growing disagreements with his English investors prompted Antonio Salviati to depart from the English-backed iteration of Salviati & Co. Upon this break-up in 1877, Sir Layard founded Compagnia Venezia-Murano (CVM), whereas Antonio Salviati created a new Salviati & C. (for mosaics and retail), and another Salviati Dott. Antonio company for glassblowing and the production of art glass and glassware. The Barovier glassblowing family was involved in the founding and operations of the Salviati Dott. Antonio company, and Antonio Salviati sold that portion of the business to the Barovier family around 1883. Per contract, the Barovier-owned Salviati Dott. Antonio glassblowing operation was to keep its name (until after Antonio’s death), and the Baroviers would supply glass to Antonio Salviati’s Salviati & C. mosaic and retail company. Salviati & C. also contracted with the Fratelli Toso company to supply Salviati & C. with murrine technique glass in the 1890s. After Antonio Salviati’s death in 1890, the Barovier family would eventually change the name of the Salviati Dott. Antonio operation to Artisti Barovier, which would evolve into the modern Barovier & Toso company.
Such is the history that Charles Frederick Ulrich walked into when he visited the island of Murano around 1886. He arrived about three years after the Barovier purchase of the Salviati Dott. Antonio company. Unfortunately, Ulrich did not clearly define which glass companies he visited, or the specific workshops that inspired his painting. Given the date, it would have likely been a workshop associated with Salviati & C., Salviati Dott. Antonio, or Fratelli Toso. Whatever the case, the American painter was inspired by the family aspect of the Muranese glass community. He emphasized this familial scene by depicting men and women of all ages and generations in his painting.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
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Deuteronomy
(A Book of the Bible also known as Děbārîm (Words) or Mishneh Torah (A Copy of the Law). It was written and edited between the 7th and 6th centuries BC)
“Cursed be anyone who deprives an alien, an orphan, or a widow of justice.”
Pliny the Younger (c. 61/62-113), like his uncle Pliny the Elder (c. 23-79), was a man of well-rounded scholarly interests, including natural history. The younger Pliny, when he was not practicing law, or offering professional financial advice, or serving as an administrative official of the Roman Empire, he often passed his free time by writing letters to his friends and acquaintances, regaling them about his interests, including the aforementioned subject of natural history. He liked to emphasize Italy’s own natural wonders, and in his opinion, one such wonder of nature resided in his own extended family’s property.
Pliny the Younger, through his wife’s grandfather, became responsible for a body of water known then as Lake Vadimon, near the ancient Italian locale of Ameria (approximately the modern Amelia region of Umbria). The lake was located to the northwest of what is now the town of Orte. Back in Pliny’s day, the body of water was an impressive sight. As a sacred place, people believed that the water had healing properties. But, most strikingly, the lake appeared to be perfectly round to the naked eye. The environment there was noticeably marshy in nature, with water-plants thriving on the lake, creating buoyant masses that looked like floating islands. Pliny the Younger proudly described his family’s sacred lake, comparing it to exotic overseas natural attractions. He wrote:
“My wife’s grandfather had asked me to look at his property in Ameria. While going round I was shown a lake at the foot of the hills called Lake Vadimon, and at the same time told some extraordinary facts about it. I went down to look at it, and found it was perfectly round and regular in shape, like a wheel lying on its side, without a single irregular bend or curve, and so evenly proportioned that it might have been artificially shaped and hollowed out. It is subdued in colour, pale blue with a tinge of green, has a smell of sulphur and a mineral taste, and the property of healing fractures. It is of no great size but large enough for the wind to raise waves on its surface. There are no boats on it, as the waters are sacred, but floating islands, green with reeds and sedge and the other plants which grow more profusely on the marshy ground at the edge of the lake. Each island has its peculiar shape and size, and all have their edges worn away by friction, as they are constantly knocking against each other and the shore…The small islands often attach themselves to the larger, like small boats to a merchant ship, and both large and small sometimes appear to be racing each other; or they are all driven to one side of the lake to create a headland where they cling to the shore” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 8.20).
Despite the sacred nature of the lake, the surrounding fields were evidently home to roving cattle, which could result in comical sights. According to Pliny, it was not uncommon for cows to wander their way onto the beached water-plant islands, and the floating masses had enough buoyancy to carry an unsuspecting cow out for a journey on the lake. Pliny reported, “Cattle are often known to walk on the islands while grazing, taking them for the edge of the lake, and only realize that they are on moving ground when carried off from the shore as if forcibly put on board ship, and are terrified to find themselves surrounded by water; then, when they land where the wind has carried them, they are no more conscious of having ended their voyage than they were of embarking on it” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 8.20).
Unfortunately, in the current day, there is very little water left above ground at the site of the lake. Back in Pliny’s day, he wrote of how, “Another feature of the lake is the river leading from it, which is visible for a short distance before it enters a cave and continues its course at a great depth” (Letters, 8.20). It seems that, over the millennia, the majority of the lake water has flowed down into those deepening underground caves, decreasing the size of the lake as the outflow outpaced the replenishing inflow. Given its greatly reduced size, the lake can no longer sustain the great floating plant masses that once carried cattle across the water.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Cropped Lake Albano and Castel Gandolfo, by Camille Corot (1796–1875) [Public Domain] via MET, with A Cow by Jan Vrolijk, dated 1879, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and Rijksmuseum).
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This artwork, by the American artist Henry Siddons Mowbray (c. 1858–1928), depicts the Muse of Lyric Poetry and it is part of a series of paintings devoted to different Muses of arts and sciences. Mowbray’s series expanded beyond historical muses, but this particular Muse of Lyric Poetry is a figure that is grounded in traditional Greek and Roman mythology. Namely, the Muse of Lyric Poetry was a goddess called Erato, whose name goes back at least to the 8th century BCE. A scholar named Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE) wrote of the evolution of Muse worship, stating:
“The majority of the writers of myths and those who enjoy the greatest reputation say that they were daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne; but a few poets, among whose number is Alcman, state that they were daughters of Uranus and Gê. Writers similarly disagree also concerning the number of the Muses; for some say that they are three, and others that they are nine, but the number nine has prevailed since it rests upon the authority of the most distinguished men, such as Homer and Hesiod and others like them…To each of the Muses men assign her special aptitude for one of the branches of the liberal arts, such as poetry, song, pantomimic dancing, the round dance with music, the study of the stars, and the other liberal arts” (Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 4.7).
Hesiod (c. 8th century BCE), who was mentioned by Diodorus Siculus, is thought to have been the first to name the nine canonical Muses of the Greco-Roman religious worldview. He wrote, “the Muses sang, who dwell in Olympus, the nine daughters born of great Zeus, Clio and Euterpe and Thaleia and Melpomene, Terpsichore and Erato and Polyhymnia and Urania, and Calliope, who is chief among them all” (Hesiod, Theogony, approximately lines 76-79). On Erato and her name, the scholar Diodorus Siculus (c. 1st century BCE) wrote, “For the name of each Muse, they say, men have found a reason appropriate to her…Erato [lovely one], because she makes those who are instructed by her…desired and worthy to be loved” (Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, 4.7). Focusing in on the concepts of love and desire, Erato and her lyrical sphere of influence encompassed poetry on love and erotic themes. Plato (c. 427-347 BCE), referencing this, made mention of “Erato for the lovers” or “Erato for the poets of love” in his Phaedrus (Plato, Phaedrus, section 259). Given her musical qualities, Erato was also associated with the lyre.
It is this goddess, Erato, the Muse of Lyric poetry and songs, that Henry Siddons Mowbray re-creates in his painting. Erato can be seen wearing clothing dyed in red and pink hues, which are appropriate for her poetic themes of love and eroticism. Additionally, in details that signal her influence over verse and music, the goddess wears the headpiece of a poet and can be seen strumming on the strings of her lyre.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
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Herbert Krause (c. 1905-1976)
“I guess we never learn from the troubles of other folks; we learn only from our troubles; and then—then it’s too late, too late. Nothing is gleaned from yesterday’s grief. Each must suffer and weep before he knows that he is crying yesterday’s tears.”
Ancient Greeks observed that Iberian warriors received special burial monuments in their native land and culture. For full disclosure, the ancient Greek sources (such as Aristotle (c. 384-322 BCE)) could be vague about which Iberian peoples—Spanish or Anatolian—they were addressing. In this case, however, comments on the burial monuments were likely in reference to the Iberian Peninsula. The Greek observers noticed that the monuments were individually unique, with each buried warrior receiving varying numbers of spike-like objects adorning their resting place. The nature of these spikes remains debated, with some suggesting they were spears, while others argue they were stelae or small pointed stones, and the objects also, in a more literal sense, could have been actual spikes or large nails. Whatever the case, some buried warriors received more of these objects, while others had less. After some investigation, ancient Greek inquirers concluded that the spikes represented the number of foes that the buried warrior slew in battle. This observation and conclusion was recorded by the ancient philosopher and scholar, Aristotle, who wrote, “Among the Iberians, a warlike race, the tombs of their warriors have little spikes around them showing the number of enemy slain” (Aristotle, The Politics, Bekker page 1324b). Curiously, archeological investigations into the ancient inhabitants of the Iberian Peninsula have, indeed, resulted in evidence that the Iberians made use of spears, nails, and other spiked/pointed objects in their ancient burial practices. Aristotle approved of these burial monuments, believing that the gesture incentivized a battle-ready society and honored warriors who put their lives on the line for the interests of their people.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Assortment of Iberian items, labeled Cigarralejo003, photographed by Extrema dorii, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and Wikimedia Commons).
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This engraved print was produced by the Dutch artist Philips Galle (c. 1537 – 1612) after a design by Maarten van Heemskerck (1498 – 1574). Their art illustrates a scene of King Josiah of Judah (r. 640–609 BCE) cracking down with an iron fist against the worship of deities from the Canaanite pantheon of gods and goddesses. Curiously, the king’s realm was a target-rich environment for his religious oppression, as many of Josiah’s predecessors had been tolerant, and even supportive of, the worshippers of particular deities from the Canaanite (or West Semitic) religious pantheon. That religious and cultural tradition was loosely shared by the peoples of ancient Palestine, Lebanon, Jordan, and Syria, who were linguistically and literarily similar to the Hebrews. The most ancient and foundational Hebrew kings (like Saul, David, Solomon, and others) had enigmatic ties to Canaanite religious entities (such as the high-god El, the storm-god Baal, the consort goddess Asherah, and the fertility goddess Astarte). Kings Saul (said to have ruled approximately c. 1021–1000 BCE) and David (flourished c. 1000 BCE), the first and second kings of Israel, both had children with names that referenced Baal. Wise King Solomon (said to have ruled in the 10th century BCE) was reported to have built shrines to the gods Chemosh, Moloch/Molech, Milcom, and the goddess Astarte. King Ahab (flourished 9th century BCE) built shrines for Baal and Asherah, as did King Manasseh (said to have reigned c. 686 to 642 BCE). Such was the long tradition that King Josiah began to undo when he started his ruthless campaign to stamp out the worshippers, priests and shrines in his land that were not devoted to Yahweh. On this, the Bible stated: “The king defiled the high places that were east of Jerusalem, to the south of the Mount of Destruction, which King Solomon of Israel had built for Astarte the abomination of the Sidonians, for Chemosh the abomination of Moab, and for Milcom the abomination of the Ammonites. He broke the pillars in pieces, cut down the sacred poles, and covered the sites with human bones” (2 Kings 23:13-14). It is this scene of King Josiah defiling the shrines of Astarte/Ashtoreth, Chemosh and Milcom that Philips Galle and Maarten van Heemskerck re-create with their art.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
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Euripides (c. 485-406 BCE)
“If a man cannot unlock a pure heart
and respect his friends,
may he perish without reward.
He will never be a friend of mine.”
