Film History: Early Editing #1

One thing I that find endlessly fascinating is the development of film as its own specific art form. The earliest experiments in film go back way further than we might initially imagine; if we consider the invention of moving imagery as the first step in the direction of cinema then film history has its roots in a piece of 5200 year old pottery recovered from an archaeological site in Iran called Shahr-i Sukhteh.

When spun, the patterns on the outside of the pottery create the short animation above. But how did humans first come up with the idea of combining images to create movement? The answer to this perhaps goes back even further...

It's been theorised that some of the early European cave paintings, such as the Trois Freres paintings (which are estimated to be somewhere between 14 000 and 40 000 years old) may have been deliberately transformed into animations when they were lit by flickering fire. For a demonstration on this, see the video above.

Eventually, of course, the combination of this long-held knowledge with the 19th century invention of photography led to cinema itself - see here for a lesson based on the very first 'proper' films from 1875.

Experiments in Editing: Life of an American Fireman

We take a lot in filmmaking for granted now but there are certain editing techniques that didn't come naturally to the first directors and editors. It was their innovations in the earliest days of silent cinema that created the film grammar we now rely on to create narratives on the screen. 

Below is Life of an American Fireman, a six minute film directed by pioneering American director Edward S. Porter in 1903. 

In the film, a group of firemen respond to a call and rescue a family from the second floor of their burning house. Porter wanted to depict the action from multiple perspectives, showing the helpless family inside the house as they were rescued by the firemen and the firemen as they climbed up the ladder outside and brought the family down to safety. 

Today a director would show these multiple perspectives by cross-cutting back and forth several times. Porter, however, lacked access to this technique as it hadn't been invented yet. Often referred to as 'parallel editing', the idea of portraying concurrent sequences at the same time by cutting between them did not really solidify on film until 6 years later with D.W. Griffith's A Corner in Wheat. 

Porter attempted to solve the issue in Life of an American Fireman by first showing the events within the house and then replaying the events afterwards from the outside.

It isn't the best way to show things happening at the same time. A modern audience finds it jarring to see events repeated in this way, and so it doesn't really work for us when creating a narrative. We can, however, see Porter attempting in his film to grapple with the concept of parallel editing. Even though he would not be the one to invent the technique of cross-cutting, Porter at least realised that - unlike the theatre - the medium of film had the potential to show events in multiple locations and to suggest that they were happening at the same time.

Film critic Mark Cousins calls this concept the 'meanwhile' of film grammar; we see something happening meanwhile something is also happening somewhere else. It was a radical jump in the crafting of film narratives as previously films had been content to portray events in a strictly linear fashion. This was the 'and then' of film grammar - it meant we would see one scene cutting to another to suggest that something happened and then something else happened next.

Students: Purpose and Methods

Getting students to understand film grammar is an intrinsic part of learning how to craft a film narrative. And understanding the history of this helps to highlight why taken-for-granted techniques such as cross-cutting are so important. One effective way of exploring film grammar with students is to have them film a relatively simple series of events (silent is better... introducing dialogue just makes things too complicated at this point). Students then edit their raw footage in multiple ways to show their understanding of cross-cutting and the differences between 'meanwhile' and 'and then'. By reflecting on this afterwards, students are able to develop their ability to articulate some of the terminology and reasoning behind editing and narrative-writing in general. 

It's beneficial for students to learn this for a range of reasons, and not just for the sake of developing their understanding of film or visual literacy. In terms of writing, the formulation of a narrative in this medium forces a degree of reflection that helps develop imagination and critical thinking. 

For More on Film Grammar

See also: The 180 Degree Rule.

See also: The Close-Up.

See also: Teaching Film as Language.

Researching for History Curriculum

Thanks Penrith Library!

I thought I'd share with you today one of my current methods for researching and writing History curriculum. There's no single way to program, of course, but I do know that if someone had outlined a few methodologies to me back in my university days then it might have made things a little easier. I've experimented with various ways of writing programs for teaching and I guess that 2020-21 was the moment where I finally became happy with an approach to researching for the subject of History. So I thought I'd share it!

There were a few contributing factors that helped me arrive at the method I now use... 

• In 2019 I was commissioned to write some chapters for the Cambridge History Transformed series. In order to feel comfortable in providing a baseline from which other teachers could work, I knew that I would have to undertake a considerable amount of research.
• At my new school I was placed onto Ancient History, a subject I hadn't taught for at least 9 years. For all intents and purposes I'm basically teaching it for the first time so I needed to refresh my approach.  
• I fortuitously attended some online PL conducted by the History Teachers' Association of NSW. This 'Introduction to Ancient History' module was run by Dennis Mootz, who highlighted the use of Excel Spreadsheets as a powerful aggregation tool for historians to use. 

My approach isn't revolutionary but I'm finding it increasingly useful and it's something I'll be teaching a variation of to my students for the upcoming Historical Investigation component of Ancient History. I'll also teach it when I next have a History Extension class. 

Step 1: Look at the syllabus. 

I start by reading through the part of the syllabus I'll be teaching. In this case, for example, it's the introductory Nature of Ancient History topic 'The Treatment and Display of Human Remains'. 

Then I code the content dot points within the syllabus for my own reference, using the following schema: 

• 1 = The Nature of Ancient History as it's the first module in the Preliminary course. 
• 6 = The Treatment and Display of Human Remains as it's the 6th topic within the module. 
• The four main dot points within this topic are then labelled A, B, C, D.
• Any sub-dot points within these are labelled with a further number, EG. 1, 2, 3, 4. 

Here is what it looks like after I code it...

Students investigate:

• The condition of the human remains and how they were preserved, discovered and/or removed from where they were found 1-6-A
• The methods and results of scientific analysis (dating of finds and forensic techniques) and modern preservation of the remains 1-6-B
• The significance of the human remains and other sources, for examples written, for an understanding of the life and times in which they lived, including: 1-6-C
• The social status of individuals 1-6-C1
• The beliefs and practices of the society 1-6-C2
• The health of ancient populations 1-6-C3
• The nature of the environment 1-6-C4
• The ethical issues relevant to the treatment, display and ownership of the remains, for example the use of invasive methods of scientific analysis 1-6-D

Step 2: Read.

I recently read a tweet where the poet Eileen Chong made reference to a creative process figuratively labelled as 'wool-gathering'. This refers to the necessary time that writers need to spend on reading, gathering up the intellectual resources that will allow for creation. In preparing to teach an area of history I will gather together any available resources I can find, place them in a stack on my table, and start reading. 

Step 3: Raw notetaking. 

I find that, without focus, examining history can become quite overwhelming. Reading one thing will lead to another and I'll be fascinated by the minutiae of particular events only to realise (when it's too late) that it has no relevance to what I need to teach. This is where the above coding from Step 1 comes into play.

Using an excel spreadsheet, I will keep one eye on the syllabus content points and make notes on what I'm reading. Each separate entry is coded with one of the 8 codes from the above syllabus. This is what it looks like:

Click to enlarge.

The columns are as follows:

• Information: My notes from the source in question. This can be a summary, or a quote, or a suggestion.
• Key Word: In something like this topic it's useful to be able to separate the entries geographically as the plan is to examine significant bodies from different parts of the world (EG. Bog Bodies from Europe, Mungo Man from Australia, etc.).
• Reference: This lets me know the source I've used. I keep another tab in the Excel spreadsheet running to collect together my sources as a proper bibliography. 
• Page Number: So I can follow up in case I come back to the entry and realise I need more context, or need to check if I've quoted something correctly. After all, I don't want Keith Windschuttle to come after me (that's a joke for the History Extension teachers).
• Syllabus: The coding from Step 1. This becomes most important in the next step.
• Format: The type of source it's from. This can help me evaluate how I plan to use the information.
• Category: A categorising column additional to the Key Word column can be useful when it comes to sorting the document afterwards, in case there are different ways of ordering the information (EG. By culture/body rather than by geography).

Step 4: Sort.

The final step before I start programming my unit (in other words, planning out my sequence of lessons and populating it with resources) is to take all the raw information and make some sense out of it. This is a simple but powerful step where the spreadsheet is re-sorted by using the coding. All the entries are then reorganised in order of the syllabus, allowing me to work through it methodically. 

I then move onto creating my unit of work. Recently, for example, while creating a unit for the Boudicca Case Study, I've been able to refer back to all my entries on Boudicca's representation through history and use this to create a lesson focused on just this one aspect of the syllabus. It's been incredibly useful. 

And that's it. I have other ways of using the spreadsheet but I think this will do for today :)

Mexico City and Teotihuacan, Mexico (Day 12 - 9/1/14)

The Pyramid of the Moon, Teotihuacan

Today is our first day trip in Mexico, and boy am I excited. We are going to see our first pyramids with a pre-booked guide. Duck is still a little apprehensive about Mexico in general but our hotel here in the city has been first class. Well, except for the part of the doorframe that ripped off when I opened door while the security chain was locked. Whoops!

Alejandro drops us off in the Zocalo so we can sightsee a little more before it's time for our trip. The car slows significantly as we approach the square. Protestors have lined the streets, way more intensely than the previous day, holding placards with a politician's face on it. We are naturally curious, and ask Alejandro about it but he is reluctant to answer in specifics. He points out to us that all the protestors are poor, as if this somehow negates their protesting. It's hard to tell just exactly what point he is making though as English is his second language - nonetheless, I find his answering a bit intentionally ambiguous, and I am unable to tell if he is being cynical or sympathetic. 

Protestors lined many streets

Note the police presence: they were everywhere

When we finally get into the Zocalo the place is throbbing with human activity. Hundreds upon hundreds of protestors (possibly thousands) stand around the perimeter in an orderly fashion while someone shouts slogans at them through a megaphone. The police are present as well, both in a regular capacity and also in riot gear, poised to suppress the protestors if things should get ugly. No one seems worried though, touristas and Mexicanos alike pay the protestors and police no mind as they bustle about the square. Kids are still ice skating, and the churches are still open. Tellingly, the Presidential Palace has wisely chosen to close its doors for the day.

Colonial Architecture in Mexico City

More magnificent architecture

 We decide to have a close look at the Basilica, the huge and magnificent cathedral adjacent to the palace.

Outside this cathedral there are glass windows set into the ground. We peer down into them and see the ancient catacombs still preserved underneath. These are the remains of the Aztec temples that once stood here. When Cortez conquered Mexico he (vindictively... piously... it's up for debate really) built the Zocalo and its accompanying church directly over the top of the Aztec capital's centre. The Basilica is literally built on Aztec skulls. You can see them through the glass, half-buried in the walls of the catacombs. It's horrific but also slightly exciting, like I've wandered into an Indiana Jones movie.

Note the skull set into the wall.

Inside the Basilica is something else. I'm finding it hard to describe each of the landmarks we see without descending into hyperbole, but let me just say that this is the biggest church I've ever been in. About two to three times larger than the already quite grand one we went into yesterday. The ceilings reach up to the Heavens and curve over to encompass them. Camera-clutching tourists rub shoulders with quiet bow-backed Catholics, admiring the intricate marble architecture and Californian Redwood-like stone columns while locals weep solemnly for their sins and loved ones. Alcoves line the walls, each one depicting a different collection of saints. Some have been opened up for people to pray in. As I gaze up at the towering pillars of stone that hold up the roof - each one thicker than the length of a small car - I wonder; why do we not build stuff like this anymore? Are such architectural feats always dependent on religion or the suffering of a large lower class? Sure, we have our Opera House in Australia, but it's quite minimalist in comparison to Mexico City's egotistical yet impressive opulence - and this is a country where half the population live below the poverty line.

Outside the Basilica

 

Inside the Basilica

 

With half an hour to spare, we decide to grab some more street food for lunch. We spy a busy joint selling tacos for the equivalent of 60 Australian cents each, and we make a beeline for it. After laughing and staring our way through more broken espanol we get shuffled through a lunch line while a mohawked Mexican punk reaches into a large bucket full of soggy, interlocking tacos and plops them onto a plate for us, the halo of oil radiating around them in a vivid shade of orange.

$1.80 worth of tacos

I wait until we're almost finished eating them, and remark to the Duck, "Well, if these tacos don't make us sick, then nothing well!" Duck laughs and we wipe our hands on our jeans in lieu of napkins. 

Another stray observation about Mexico City... everyone sells cigarettes, even the old beggar woman on the church steps. Her cigarette packets sit propped open in front of her invitingly, the ciggies within available for individual purchase. Amazing.

We meet Itzal, our tour guide for the Teotihuacan pyramids (pronounced Teo-ti-wah-cun), and with her are two other tourists from Australia - a pair of girls from Melbourne who work together in accounting. Itzal tells us that most of the tourists who book tours with Bamba across Mexico are either Australian or from mainland Europe. Make of that what you will.

Mexico City Metro

Itzal takes us on the Mexico City Metro, a fairly new subway that connects up roughly half of the city. The crowds are insane, and the doors of the train close against the Duck barely milliseconds after we get on. We swap trains three times until we get to the bus station that will get us to Teotihuacan, which is about 40-50 kilometres outside of the city. The security at the bus station is comparable to the Mexico City Airport, if not even more extreme. We have to show identification and I undergo two separate body pat-downs before they let me onto the bus. There is a large sign outside the queue with the photographs of about forty criminals who are to be watched out for, and we then all pass through a scanner while our bags get checked. I guess this is to prevent bus hijackings and Itzal later confirms that they had a problem with the buses "several months ago" (as if this were the distant past!). One of the accountants exclaims, "Only a few months ago!" and Itzal changes her answer to "a year ago". Later, the bus gets checked mid-route by a security officer who greets each one of us with a "hola" while filming us with a video camera, flashes a torch in my eyes, and looks under all of the seats.

The favelas (slums) stretch on for miles outside the metropolitan part of Mexico City

Another funny thing about the bus; it stops to let hawkers on.

A salesman or saleswoman will come on with a big tray full of snacks, a line of coke bottles strapped to their bodies like a bandolero. The bus driver waits for them patiently to walk up and down the bus aisle before leaving, and Itzal explains that they are allowed to sell whatever they want to us but for for no more than $1 American dollar. Good deal.

Teotihuacan is a true wonder but is not heritage-listed yet as it was only discovered around 1910 (these huge pyramids - some of the biggest in Mexico - were previously covered in dirt so they looked like hills and mountains). The ancient city has been partially reconstructed in parts to demonstrate the full scope of the complex built by a Mesoamerican civilisation known only as the Teotihuacanos. Not much is known about this group as they had no written language. Their civilisation flourished between 300 BC and 200 AD, and their buildings were regarded by later civilisations (such as the Mixtecs and the Aztecs) as tombs of the gods. The grand complex has an efficient drainage system, and some of the walls still retain their original red paint and murals depicting jaguars, parrots and pumas.

Itzal points out the surviving artwork, nearly 2000 years old

Teotihuacano jaguar

After walking through the complex we move past the various smaller structures and come to the Pyramid of the Moon. The steps only take tourists halfway up the structure but that's more than high enough for me. The stairs are narrow and steep, and I resolutely look only two steps ahead as I climb the ascent. Once at the landing I scramble as far from the edge as I can get and turn back to take in the view of the city. It's larger than I thought, and Itzal tells us that the ancient city was home to some 250, 000 Teotihuacans around 2000 years ago. I try to picture the city alive but the structures are too big for my imagination at this point, and I feel breathless from the climb (and my fear of heights doesn't help either). I watch as an American girl poses right on the ledge for a photo, my heart skipping beats as I picture her slipping and tumbling to a stupid, sudden and unavoidable death.

It's at this point that I quickly make my descent, grasping the black rubber rope for comfort as I try not to look down. 

At the bottom Itzal explains the nature of Mesoamerican society to us. A person's role in this society was determined by the day they were born on. One of these days was a day of sacrifice, so if you were born on this day it was your lot in life to eventually be sacrificed to the gods. I guess there has to be some kind of payoff... the Teotihuacans couldn't accept the beauty of their pyramids without undergoing some kind of suffering in return, so the streets were awash with blood, and it makes a twisted kind of sense if you're standing at the foot of these giant buildings.

View of the ancient city

I struggle to imagine how someone could so willingly lay down their life for an abstract concept like religion, and Itzal tries to explain that it was just a way of life for this society. The 'victim' would have their back cracked over a large rock (a rock that we stand next to as she explains this), and the severing of the spinal column would act as a brutal but effective anesthetic for what was to come. It was required for the sacrificial victim to be conscious until their death so that they could watch their torso being opened up. With the breaking of their back, they could painlessly watch their heart being removed and held in front of their face before they expired.

What a way to go.

And if that wasn't shocking enough, then the heart would be eaten by a high priest in a tamale (a kind of corn-husk burrito). Oh, and did I mention that each corner of the larger pyramids has the remains of babies buried inside them? Cheerful bunch, these Teotihuacanos. 

We look to the Pyramid of the Sun, the city's larger pyramid and one of the tallest such structures in all of Mexico. I don't know if I can climb this one. It's three times higher than the Pyramid of the Moon, and I was packing it. As we get closer to it I remain non-commital. Maybe I'll climb it, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll take it one step at a time and see how I go. Maybe I'll just wait at the bottom.

Maybe I just have to do it because this will be the only time I'm ever here and it's a crazy-huge two thousand year old pyramid and if I don't do it I'll hate myself for the rest of my life.

I try not to think about it.

One flight of stairs at a time.

This isn't too bad. These steps aren't as steep.

I'll just take a little peek behind me.

Bad idea.

I lean in towards the stairs and grasp the rubber rope. A six year old boy just within my field of peripheral vision jumps around ahead of me. Where are his goddamn parents? If he falls and comes somersaulting down towards me I will shift out of his way.

I try to pull myself up another flight of stairs. This time I'll look up rather than down.

It's so high.

265 steps later (yes, this is how many there are in total, and no, I didn't count them) I reach the highest landing. From here you can scuttle over rubble up to the apex, which I force myself to do. I stay crouched down, irrationally but irrevocably afraid that if I stand the wind and gravity will take me off the edge all those 65 metres to the ground.

The smaller structures in ancient Teotihuacan

The pyramid used to be higher but the top was dynamited during its uncovering. That's what all this rubble is. I sit with the others for a while on the upper most landing and I manage to find some tranquility despite my ever-present fear. People say you can conquer your fears by doing things like this but my phobia remains undiminished alongside my triumph. Coming back down is scary, but at least I get to be on the ground at the end.

Once I'm on the ground again a sudden crowd of locals swarm to us like moths, carrying T-shirts, obsidian jewellery, polished death masks and noisemakers that sound like the harsh growl of a jaguar. I'm pretty okay with just ignoring them, and sometimes say "No" in espanol (which sounds like "No" in English, only you say it with a Mexican accent). The Duck tires of it quickly though, her innate politeness preventing her from simply moving past them silently.

The tour doesn't end after Teotihuacan, Itzal has a few other things to show us. She's very small but also boisterous and mischievous, always ready to slip a well-rehearsed joke into her explanations but also able to chat less formally with us. She finds a taxi who is willing to take five passengers in his four seats (as it's Mexico, this is very easy to organise - all she had to do was ask the first taxi driver that she saw). One of the accountants sits on Itzal's lap in the front seat. There are no seat belts in the back. The taxi wheels around in a slow circle, mounting the makeshift dirt gutters before taking us down some gravel backstreets to the nearby town.

Obsidian artisan outside of Teotihuacan

The fences in the town (also named Teotihuacan) are often broken into pieces, and there is no evidence of any kind of town planning - people build their houses right up against each other, or wherever else they like. Dogs are everything, lounging in the streets and even on the roofs of houses. A mangy poodle watches us from a tin awning as we pass. Also, as it's just after Christmas, endless strings of colourful paper flowers hang over the streets like bunting. It's quite a sight - a ramshackle community with its heart on its sleeve.

We pull up at the outskirts of the town where a local (who speaks very good English) demonstrates the many tribal uses of the agave cactus and the way that obsidian is crafted into many kinds of decorative objects. Most importantly, we try three varieties of cacti-based alcohol - pulqua (a traditional Aztec drink, quite tasty and not too potent), tequila (which I've always had issues with, and this local variety is no different) and mescal (yeah, the one with the worm - this one is a bit foul too).

Pulqua, Tequila, Mescal

Cactus-thread

Itzal then takes us through the streets of the town, leading us down colourfully painted alleyways, past homes-converted-into-shops and to another cactus-product outlet where we sample chips, liqueurs and lollies made from agave and prickly pears. While walking through the streets I see another roof dog; a large and very loud Rottweiler that bounces from the flimsy single line of wire designed to hold him back. He barks quite viciously, scaring the stuffing out of some local women as they pass by. I decide to take a photo of this awesome dog, and he turns towards me, absolutely losing his temper and getting tangled up over the wire as he tries to get from the roof down to the street. For a moment I worry that he might jump over it and come tumbling down on top of me, very angry and ready to tear my throat out. It was great.

Roof Poodle

Roof Rottweiler

Itzal describes the meaning of Teotihuacan street art

The zocalo in the modern township of Teotihuacan

Teotihuacan street

 

As the sun goes down, Itzal takes us to a local Mexican family's house where we have a traditional home-cooked meal. Having witnessed the poverty throughout the town, and comparing it to this huge house (which was far bigger than our place back in Australia), I decide that this family is not very reflective of what's average in this part of Mexico. But, that's not to say it isn't a welcome visit, it's a very nice meal and the family are quite interested in what Australia is like, so the time passes pleasantly.

Home-cooked Mexican

It's past 9 pm when we get back to the subway in Mexico City, so it's a lot quieter than it was at midday, but no less crazy. Private security soldiers walk past us with their handguns drawn, as if ready to fire on someone like it isn't a big deal. The Duck and the accountants see a guy carrying a giant rifle rather nonchalantly as well but my attention is elsewhere. As far as deterrents go, it seems a fairly effective strategy. The Metro subway feels pretty safe. No one could really say that Mexico isn't trying to do something to clean up its reputation as a hotbed of crime, and when one of these mercenaries smiles at me and says, "Hola", I feel quite safe indeed. But even so, I still can't deny the ambivalence I feel about the whole thing after the fact. As a tourist I might feel quite safe in the presence of such men, but what does the ongoing work of these security forces do to the psyche of the local population?

History and Archaeology at Pompeii and Herculaneum

Dr Joanne Berry's book on Pompeii

The discovery of historical artefacts isn't something that happens in a vacuum. That's the main thing I took away from a fantastic set of lectures on Pompeii and Herculaneum by Doctor Joanne Berry and Professor Nigel Pollard, who visited Australia from Swansea University in the UK thanks to the HTA. Said lectures were held at Glenmore Park High School, which was very nice for those of us based in Western Sydney and/or the Blue Mountains.

I can't say that I'm very knowledgeable about Pompeii as I'm more of a Modern History enthusiast than an Ancient History one, but from an Extension History standpoint both Berry and Pollard provided more than enough grist for the historiographical mill for anyone with even a passing interest in the past. Dr Berry, an archaeologist who has been working at Pompeii and Herculaneum for over 25 years, stressed the importance of context in relation to archaeological material, whilst Professor Pollard honed in on the status of Pompeii during WWII as a fascinating case study that would be very useful for Extension History. I'll write on Professor Pollard's talk in a future post as today I want to concentrate on what Berry spoke about.

In exploration of context, Berry described the initial conditions in which Pompeii emerged as an archaeological site in the mid-18th Century. King Charles VII, the Spanish monarch who controlled Naples at this time, was consolidating a new kingdom alongside already established royalty in neighbouring states. For a rube like me,  who has never taught the mandatory Pompeii study, it was fascinating to hear about the context of Charles VII, the Spanish monarch who controlled Naples in mid-18th century - a new kingdom desperate to gain acceptance from surrounding royal families. Charles VII brought in poets, composers, artists, etc. in an effort to turn Naples into a cultural centre in Europe. He bought up the area where the Pompeii excavations took place, and the above portrait shows the artefacts around him - signifying the importance of these antiquities as conferring status onto the monarch.

Two years later, Horace Walpole arrived and recorded the discoveries made at Herculaneum. This was the birth of archaeology - seeing the arrival of military engineers, soldiers, and forced labour overseen by a military engineer. Walpole criticised the overseer for excavating artefacts at the expense of the ancient Roman city that was being uncovered, raising issues regarding the need to preserve the past. The things found at Herculaneum were selected, recorded and preserved only on the basis of what the engineers thought the King would be interested in - everything else was discarded, or destroyed. It was more like mining than discovery. It was only through recognition from foreigners like Walpole that people began to realise that an opportunity for learning was being lost.

This Peter Fabris painting from the time shows the excavation of the Temple of Isis - here the excavators were starting to become aware of impressing their financiers/benefactors, so that when they realised they had found something significant they would stop and then wait until a prestigious visitor arrived and then 'stage' the excavation. This led to important visitors (such as Maria Carolina) coming along and 'instructing' the excavators on what to do, believing that they themselves were directing the excavation. The benefit for the real excavators was that these important visitors would then also give money to them. Thus, the birth of archaeology as a practice supported by patronage.

The visiting of the Pope made it necessary to remove stepping stones in the Pompeii streets so that his cart could travel through, and often these stones were not put back. Our record of this now (and its delivery in Joanne Berry's lecture) shows the way history interacts with itself to create its own narrative - the early modern age interacting with the ancient world, as reflected through our contemporary perspective. In other words, the ancient streets of Pompeii were disturbed and restructured by the arrival of visitors such as the Pope in the 18th/19th Century, and now - in the modern day - we must contend with these restructurings of the site if we are to reach a better understanding of what it really looked like.

The Unification of Italy in 1860 politically required examples of Italy's past greatness as justification for nationalism, so Pompeii became emblematic of the new Italy, and this drew increased funding. Suddenly, anyone could visit the excavation (not just the rich and powerful), and an archaeological school was set up to train future excavators so that more glory could be uncovered. Fast forward to the 1930s-1940s, and the Italian fascists also poured incredible funds into Pompeii (in particular the excavations overseen by Amedeo Maiuri) with the expectation that he will find important things and will publish them under the aegis of the fascists. 

Berry says that what we know about Pompeii/Herculaneum depends on when it was excavated and who was doing the excavating, and that these things are affected by political context. There's also the influence of romanticism and the desire to impress, things that have affected the archaeological approach to Pompeii in all periods. Berry describes this a 'circular' process, the coming and goings of various regimes keen to use Pompeii for their own political and cultural advantage.

Palmyra: Past, Present and Future

An aerial photo of Palmyra, taken prior to its destruction at the hands of ISIS

Thematically relevant to the study of Pompeii and its conservation is the recent development of socio-political fragility in Syria, and the impact this has on the UNESCO World Heritage site of Palmyra. Students looking to develop research projects in Elective, Ancient and Extension History may want to look into Palmyra's importance, the events unfolding around it, and the way this interacts with History as a discipline.

Alternatively, Professor Nigel Pollard's studies on Palmyra (on which this post is based) also provide fertile ground for non-syllabus specific historical discussion. 

Palmyra is a significant site for a number of reasons. Founded in 2000 BCE, it grew into a vibrant centre of pre-Islamic culture in the Middle East, and has been envisioned by historians as a key site on the 'Silk Road'. Palmyra's existence as a multi-cultural trading hub between Eastern and European classical cultures provides evidence for an ancient global economy (Big History scholars will find much of interest in this), and it has also been viewed, alongside the excavation of Pompeii, from a historiographical standpoint as somewhat instrumental in the West's rediscovery of the ancient world.

In reference to the earlier parts of its history, Palmyra's political status has been seen by historians as somewhat hyphenated. Sitting at the base of mountain ranges in the unforgivably desolate Syrian Desert, Palmyra occupied a geopolitical point between the West (Rome) and East (Persia) as a marginalised part of the Roman Empire. The oasis created by the wadi (valley) that sits between the two halves of the Palmyrene mountain range provided the conditions that made this a perfect exchange network between the Mediterranean and Asia.

In the 3rd Century, Palmyra broke from the Roman Empire and asserted its own authority as an independent city state, with it's own ruler; the regent Zenobia who ruled in place of her adolescent son. The city grew into the relatively shortlived Palmyrene Empire with the conquest of Egypt and Galatia, which predictably ended with the destruction of the Empire at the hands of the Romans (resulting in significant destruction of the city and its people).

Professor Nigel Pollard talking about the rise of the Palmyrene Empire at Glenmore Park High School, Western Sydney

Much more recently, WWI and the Syrian Civil War have both seen further threat to the survival of Palmyra as an archaeological treasure. In the Syrian conflict, the movement of troops and displaced peoples has had a tremendous impact on historical sites like Palmyra and - in much more sinister fashion - the intentional targeting of Syria's heritage by ISIS (for ideological reasons) has resulted in significant damage as well. Indeed, the status of Palmyra as a heritage site has actually made it a target for ISIS, who have blown up the Temple of Bel and other major parts of the ancient city. UNESCO's denomination of Palmyra as historically and cultural significant has also made it a focus for what Professor Pollard calls 'soft' power, with both Russia and the Syrian regime very keen to claim its capture and protection as a legitimisation of their rule over the region.

Crimes against cultural property are essentially crimes against people, as these sites are emblematic of a people's heritage - Pollard asserts that there is often a correlation between those who would commit genocide with those who destroy sites of historical significance. It's a case of erasing the signs that a culture ever existed, and examples of this are unfortunately all too common in recent history - in the Balkans, Afghanistan, Iraq, etc. - and almost always coincide with ethnic cleansing and similarly abhorrent crimes against identity.

For more information on the destruction of Palmyra, visit the following links:
Reuters - Palmyra Before and After ISIS
Guardian Article about the Destruction of Palmyra
'The Battle Over History' - Foreign Policy Blog on Palmyra
The Ancient City of Palmyra