The analysis of ceramics is nothing new to archaeologists, in fact it may be one of the oldest archaeological practices. However, how archaeologists analyze ceramics has grown by leaps and bounds. And through different methodologies and theoretical approaches new understandings of cultures have been revealed by looking at ceramics in different ways. This is part of the premise of Sarah E. Jackson’s “Imagining Courtly Communities an Exploration of Classic Maya Experiences of Status and Identity Through Painted Ceramic Vessels” (2009) Jackson has decided to look at the Maya ceramics from the Late Classic period through an interpretive archaeology view of spatial organization and identity in the noble courts.
What Jackson is trying to reveal is the dynamics in the royal courts and how identity in the royal courts may have been expressed through spatial and cultural displays. (Jackson 2009:71) Jackson’s belief is that these identifying displays would have been more apparent on ceramics because of pottery’s ability to circulate and be traded to different parts of the Maya Empire. Ceramics are also more easily made and less durable than items like stone buildings so there are more available and they show the different identity markers of different court periods better than other art forms. (Jackson 2009:71-72) The ceramics that she was analyzing were from different places around the Maya Empire but showed similar poses and spatial recognitions and themes. The main themes Jackson discusses the ceramic vessels by are Spatial Organization, Vision and Gaze, Bodily Gesture and Formalized Roles for Courtly Bodies, each showing some very similar iconographic markers with many respectful and powerful depictions of the courts and its members. (Jackson 2009:75-76)
The vessels showed many similar elements, but to fully understand what Jackson is trying to depict about the identity of different courts within and what courts depicted to other polities the theories of the interpretive archaeology must be discussed. Interpretive archaeology believes that humans create the traditions and social practices of culture as a representation of what they understand life to be. (Geertz 1973: 538) These ceramic vessels were transported with images of power, spatial deference to leaders and generally depicted how great a particular court was so that they could show what their abilities were to other polities. This is a display of social identity and reality through material culture. The vessels were used by courts so they could act “competitively and recognized themselves as exhibiting differently defined identities.”(Jackson 2009:77) This meant that the courts used the vessels as extensions of themselves, as almost ambassadors to display different aspects like economic superiority and how powerful the depicted court was to a lesser court. They defined their social identity to other polities by ceramic depictions and by how well made the ceramic depiction was.
How the vessels were eventually perceived by each Mayan community, were as a social power because of what they bring from court to court. Jackson points out that the social spaces that the court occupies are transformed into two worlds through the ceramics, both a physical world and a social-symbolic world(Jackson 2009:78.) This different look at ceramics as physical traveling social powers depicting the different power structures of individual Maya courts opens up a new understanding of inter-court relations. Looking at ceramic depictions in a different interpretive way could bring new understandings to complex social societies as Jackson did with the Mayan ceramics.
Reference
Geertz, Clifford
1988[1973] Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture. Reprinted in High Points in Anthropology, 2nd edition, edited by Paul Bohannan and Mark Glazer, pp. 531-552. McGraw-Hill, New York.
Jackson, Sarah E.
2009 Imagining Courtly Communities: An Exploration of Classic Maya Experiences of Status and Identity Through Painted Ceramic Vessels. Ancient Mesoamerica 20(1) 71-85.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Digging Pixels 3: The Conventions of Archaeological Imagery
Stephanie Moser’s 2001 “Archaeological Representation: The Visual Conventions for Constructing Knowledge about the Past” summarizes the growing realizations through the 1980s–90s that the communication of archaeological knowledge is not a neutral process; that the way knowledge is presented is as important as what knowledge is presented, in terms of the meanings transmitted. During this time, archaeologists (along with anthropologists in general) also became aware of their subjective positions as individuals with their own preconceptions and cultural backgrounds, subject to the same pop-culture images and baggage as everyone else. Moser points out that this includes popular imagery about archaeology. In other words, the production of archaeological knowledge is a two-way street: archaeological information filters out to the public, but public conceptions feed back into the system.
Those presenting archaeological information, whether in scholarly journals, museums, or PBS documentaries, rely on visual information. Photos, maps, illustrations, and models all influence the way we consumers of the information (archaeologists and public alike) construct the imagined past. Moser shows that these representations have conventions that provide their own layers of meaning, in addition to the obvious “top layer” of information they contain. She singles out several conventions to review: “iconography, autonomy, longevity, authenticity, singularity, dramatism, and persuasiveness” (p. 269).
Moser’s method in this article is to examine historical illustrations of archaeological subjects, ranging from 1548 to 1924, for these underlying conventions. She shows examples of each. 1) Iconography is the use of familiar symbols to convey meaning. 2) Autonomy refers to the way representations take on a life of their own, such as through the contributions of a particular artist. 3) Archaeological icons have longevity through being adapted and reused, and because early iconic images (such as the “primitive naked warrior”) are fundamental to many of our ideas about the past. 4) Authenticity is a two-edged sword: Archaeologists (and many popularizers) are concerned to present thorough and correct information—to be as authentic as possible. But any illustration is an abstraction, and any reconstruction is a fiction to some degree. The more authentic-looking the representation is, the more we are tempted to accept it unquestioningly. 5) Singularity refers to the inescapable fact that we cannot present the totality of past existence, only limited or single views. 6) Effective representations are often dramatic and emotionally laden, increasing our acceptance of the image’s veracity and details. 7) To be successful, representations must be plausible; to be plausible, they must conform to our beliefs and expectations.
This is a powerful collection of ideas that any reader/viewer of archaeological material can use. When watching a documentary, for instance, we can ask, “What familiar images do I see? Is this a convincing representation, and why? Am I seeing what I expect to see, or something surprising? What other explanations could there be for the evidence?” This kind of awareness is becoming increasingly important as visual technology becomes more powerful and convincing. Archaeologists are concerned that 3D models, for instance, are dangerously convincing, and so they are working on ways to show uncertainty. It’s also becoming much easier for the public to produce their own archaeological models, such as in 3D virtual worlds. It will be interesting to see how Moser’s list of conventions play out when almost anyone can build their own Alamo.
Reference
Moser, Stephanie
2001 Archaeological Representation: The Visual Conventions for Constructing Knowledge about the Past. In Archaeological Theory Today, edited by Ian Hodder, 262-283. Polity Press, Cambridge, UK, and Malden, Maryland, USA.
Those presenting archaeological information, whether in scholarly journals, museums, or PBS documentaries, rely on visual information. Photos, maps, illustrations, and models all influence the way we consumers of the information (archaeologists and public alike) construct the imagined past. Moser shows that these representations have conventions that provide their own layers of meaning, in addition to the obvious “top layer” of information they contain. She singles out several conventions to review: “iconography, autonomy, longevity, authenticity, singularity, dramatism, and persuasiveness” (p. 269).
Moser’s method in this article is to examine historical illustrations of archaeological subjects, ranging from 1548 to 1924, for these underlying conventions. She shows examples of each. 1) Iconography is the use of familiar symbols to convey meaning. 2) Autonomy refers to the way representations take on a life of their own, such as through the contributions of a particular artist. 3) Archaeological icons have longevity through being adapted and reused, and because early iconic images (such as the “primitive naked warrior”) are fundamental to many of our ideas about the past. 4) Authenticity is a two-edged sword: Archaeologists (and many popularizers) are concerned to present thorough and correct information—to be as authentic as possible. But any illustration is an abstraction, and any reconstruction is a fiction to some degree. The more authentic-looking the representation is, the more we are tempted to accept it unquestioningly. 5) Singularity refers to the inescapable fact that we cannot present the totality of past existence, only limited or single views. 6) Effective representations are often dramatic and emotionally laden, increasing our acceptance of the image’s veracity and details. 7) To be successful, representations must be plausible; to be plausible, they must conform to our beliefs and expectations.
This is a powerful collection of ideas that any reader/viewer of archaeological material can use. When watching a documentary, for instance, we can ask, “What familiar images do I see? Is this a convincing representation, and why? Am I seeing what I expect to see, or something surprising? What other explanations could there be for the evidence?” This kind of awareness is becoming increasingly important as visual technology becomes more powerful and convincing. Archaeologists are concerned that 3D models, for instance, are dangerously convincing, and so they are working on ways to show uncertainty. It’s also becoming much easier for the public to produce their own archaeological models, such as in 3D virtual worlds. It will be interesting to see how Moser’s list of conventions play out when almost anyone can build their own Alamo.
Reference
Moser, Stephanie
2001 Archaeological Representation: The Visual Conventions for Constructing Knowledge about the Past. In Archaeological Theory Today, edited by Ian Hodder, 262-283. Polity Press, Cambridge, UK, and Malden, Maryland, USA.
Green Stones in Central Jalisco
Lorenza Lopez Mestas Camberos' Green Stones in Central Jalisco is a report on a large number of green lithic artifacts made from a fairly diverse array of raw materials in funerary contexts in Western Mexico, with a particular focus on a comparison between the Late Formative site of Huitzilapa and the Late Classic site of La Higuerita, both in Jalisco. Camberos provides a general background of the known use of green stones, starting in the Early Formative period before the first known ritual use in 1500 B.C., and ending around 800 B.C. Green stone prevalence in interments appears to start around 1150 B.C. throughout Oaxaca and later in other areas of Mexico. From the earliest times, the archaeological record shows a very uneven distribution of green stones and other grave goods, which may be an indication of status differentiation in the earliest data, although Camberos appears much more certain about later indications of status. Camberos argues for the possibility of early status from the standpoint of interregional contact evidence in figurine and pottery styles, which would have been a sort of conduit for the spread of ideas from other cultures that may have had a higher degree of complexity.
Here, Camberos suggests the same pattern of long-distance trade creating an exchange of both objects and the ideas behind those objects, as noted above for the Early Formative period. Yet compositional analyses via mass spectrometry show that over 91% of the interred green stones are from local sources; only seven pieces are made from an imported material (Jadeite), in the form of small, plain beads.
The source distribution is curious, and leads to more questions: If distantly traded, exotic materials are acquired at all, why were only a handful of small, plain beads rather than more elaborate items interred? Far more elaborate green stone objects of local origin were included, amd most of them were also quite small, ranging from approximately 2 cm to 7 cm in height, the one primary exception being an atlatl hook over 20 cm tall, which appears to be ceremonial in nature due to a lack of use wear and the presence of a stylized two-headed snake, typically associated with fertility in Huitzilapa. (One might also add the impracticality of using decorative stone for an actual hunting weapon, due to factors of weight, durability and relative expense in raw material and manufacture over wooden items.) Yet, green stones in general do appear to correlate well with elite status in an apparently complex hierarchy. Camberos suggests that the stone carving tradition has a more local, Western Mexico origin, although no production evidence exists in Huitzilapa. Further, since one of the Jadeite beads is in a zoomorphic form of a shell, and Camberos suggests that the Jadeite items may have been imported as finished products, since the shell bead does not match any local style, and beads would be easier to transport than raw material.
It would appear that our perceptions of the association of elaborate artifacts with hierarchical rank need independent evaluation against the relative importance of raw material availability, without an assumption of any positive correlation between the two. We need to keep in mind that, while general trends may be apparent, there is no necessary link between artifact complexity or production effort, and the perceived symbolic importance to a hierarchy. Likewise, other factors not included in Camberos evaluation should also be independantly considered and weighed as factors in behavior, such as the workability of the raw material, visual distinctiveness of different raw materials, and expenses involved in known methods of creating different types of products.
La Higurarita
The Late Classic site of La Higuerita underwent a significant transformation in settlement patterns, natural resource exploitation, ceremonial center locations and architectural form. Most of the site has been destroyed by modern urban expansion, although significant burials have been located. These burials contain "massive scale" offerings in box shaped tombs, with many ceramic vessels, spindle whorls, obsidian points and knives, and green stone beads. Camberos also reports stones laying on top of broken vessels, which appear to have been thrown at them to intentionally break them. The tombs were filled with layers of different colored clays. Two groups of tombs contain 336 green stones, while no green stones have been found in another chamber, which was not completely excavated. Compositional analysis of these stones reveals primarily amazonite with a significant amount of turquoise (about 10%). Only one item was made from jadeite. All beads at this site are "plain" in that they are completely undecorated and unembelished, although the amazonite objects are irregular due to taphonomic effects on a material that is relatively susceptible to environmental degradation. The turquoise beads are described as "better made", although there is no explanation of this assessment or how product quality might be shown to differ for reasons other than long-term taphonomy, given the disparity in the current physical states of these objects. This confusion may be due more to translation issues from an original article in Spanish, considering that the wording at several points in this paper has required some additional effort in interpretation.
The one Jadeite bead was a "half-moon" shape with a perforation in one end, much like some objects found in the Huitzilapa site, and Camberos suggests that the bead's context may be due to heirloom effect (i.e., the object was passed down through a number of generations), or perhaps taphonomic displacement from an earlier period. No source distance information is given for this site, although given the source pattern information from Huitzilapa, it appears likely that all sources here are also local (for which the evidence may have been destroyed by modern urban encroachment), with the exception of the Jadeite from Central Mexico. Camberos concludes from this site that green stones were still status markers in funerary contexts, although the types of raw materials had changed.
Camberos further states that funerals were most likely not the original contexts for most or all of these objects, even though none have been found outside funerary contexts to date. While we may never know the original purposes of these stones, it is suggested that these objects separated human groups, both symbolically and materially. Camberos further speculates that ancestral connections helped to solidify the hierarchical structure, and states the need for "more data" to confirm or reject these ideas.
Camberos also suggests that the diversity in lithic sources reflects "great diversification and a complex set of religious beliefs" (p. 2), but what stands out in the data thus far is consistancy in only three attributes, a decorative or symbolic form (most likely, none of these items serve as tools), diminuative size (which could be due to source size limitations) and the color green. Composition does not appear to matter, and some of these objects likely have very different consistancies affecting workability, durability, etc., which could be confirmed with additional study. The color in lithic material must therefore have some powerfully symbolic or perceived supernatural attribute, which may only be approachable through ethnographic research and cross-culture comparisons.
Also, with so few foreign items in both lithic inventories, Aoyama's idea that intra-regional trade may be far more important than long-distance trade in some locations (Aoyama 2001) may be relevent here. Exotic items may have been relevent to kings and other nobility, but may have had little bearing on the society as a whole. Such items could have been completely re-interpreted within the local ideology with little or no actual transfer of ideas during the exchange.
However, foreign objects must have born some significance in order to have been interred with elite individuals. "More data" is indeed required to investigate these ideas, but data of what type? We may strengthen or weaken arguements of symbolic hierarchy, both in death and in life, but it seems that some more interesting questions raised by this study will require entirely different forms of data to bring us closer to any answers.
Source article:
Camberos, Lorenza Lopez Mestas. 2008. Green Stones in Central Jalisco. Report to the Foundation for the Advancement in Mesoamerican Studies, Inc. Translated by Eduardo Williams. Electronic document, http://www.famsi.org/reports/03083/index.html, accessed April 11, 2010.
Additional reference:
Ayoyama, Kazuo. 2001. Classic Maya State, Urbanism, and Exchange: Chipped Stone Evidence of the Copan Valley and Its Hinterland. American Anthropologist 103(2):346-360.
Huitzilapa
Here, Camberos suggests the same pattern of long-distance trade creating an exchange of both objects and the ideas behind those objects, as noted above for the Early Formative period. Yet compositional analyses via mass spectrometry show that over 91% of the interred green stones are from local sources; only seven pieces are made from an imported material (Jadeite), in the form of small, plain beads.
The source distribution is curious, and leads to more questions: If distantly traded, exotic materials are acquired at all, why were only a handful of small, plain beads rather than more elaborate items interred? Far more elaborate green stone objects of local origin were included, amd most of them were also quite small, ranging from approximately 2 cm to 7 cm in height, the one primary exception being an atlatl hook over 20 cm tall, which appears to be ceremonial in nature due to a lack of use wear and the presence of a stylized two-headed snake, typically associated with fertility in Huitzilapa. (One might also add the impracticality of using decorative stone for an actual hunting weapon, due to factors of weight, durability and relative expense in raw material and manufacture over wooden items.) Yet, green stones in general do appear to correlate well with elite status in an apparently complex hierarchy. Camberos suggests that the stone carving tradition has a more local, Western Mexico origin, although no production evidence exists in Huitzilapa. Further, since one of the Jadeite beads is in a zoomorphic form of a shell, and Camberos suggests that the Jadeite items may have been imported as finished products, since the shell bead does not match any local style, and beads would be easier to transport than raw material.
It would appear that our perceptions of the association of elaborate artifacts with hierarchical rank need independent evaluation against the relative importance of raw material availability, without an assumption of any positive correlation between the two. We need to keep in mind that, while general trends may be apparent, there is no necessary link between artifact complexity or production effort, and the perceived symbolic importance to a hierarchy. Likewise, other factors not included in Camberos evaluation should also be independantly considered and weighed as factors in behavior, such as the workability of the raw material, visual distinctiveness of different raw materials, and expenses involved in known methods of creating different types of products.
La Higurarita
The Late Classic site of La Higuerita underwent a significant transformation in settlement patterns, natural resource exploitation, ceremonial center locations and architectural form. Most of the site has been destroyed by modern urban expansion, although significant burials have been located. These burials contain "massive scale" offerings in box shaped tombs, with many ceramic vessels, spindle whorls, obsidian points and knives, and green stone beads. Camberos also reports stones laying on top of broken vessels, which appear to have been thrown at them to intentionally break them. The tombs were filled with layers of different colored clays. Two groups of tombs contain 336 green stones, while no green stones have been found in another chamber, which was not completely excavated. Compositional analysis of these stones reveals primarily amazonite with a significant amount of turquoise (about 10%). Only one item was made from jadeite. All beads at this site are "plain" in that they are completely undecorated and unembelished, although the amazonite objects are irregular due to taphonomic effects on a material that is relatively susceptible to environmental degradation. The turquoise beads are described as "better made", although there is no explanation of this assessment or how product quality might be shown to differ for reasons other than long-term taphonomy, given the disparity in the current physical states of these objects. This confusion may be due more to translation issues from an original article in Spanish, considering that the wording at several points in this paper has required some additional effort in interpretation.
The one Jadeite bead was a "half-moon" shape with a perforation in one end, much like some objects found in the Huitzilapa site, and Camberos suggests that the bead's context may be due to heirloom effect (i.e., the object was passed down through a number of generations), or perhaps taphonomic displacement from an earlier period. No source distance information is given for this site, although given the source pattern information from Huitzilapa, it appears likely that all sources here are also local (for which the evidence may have been destroyed by modern urban encroachment), with the exception of the Jadeite from Central Mexico. Camberos concludes from this site that green stones were still status markers in funerary contexts, although the types of raw materials had changed.
Camberos further states that funerals were most likely not the original contexts for most or all of these objects, even though none have been found outside funerary contexts to date. While we may never know the original purposes of these stones, it is suggested that these objects separated human groups, both symbolically and materially. Camberos further speculates that ancestral connections helped to solidify the hierarchical structure, and states the need for "more data" to confirm or reject these ideas.
Camberos also suggests that the diversity in lithic sources reflects "great diversification and a complex set of religious beliefs" (p. 2), but what stands out in the data thus far is consistancy in only three attributes, a decorative or symbolic form (most likely, none of these items serve as tools), diminuative size (which could be due to source size limitations) and the color green. Composition does not appear to matter, and some of these objects likely have very different consistancies affecting workability, durability, etc., which could be confirmed with additional study. The color in lithic material must therefore have some powerfully symbolic or perceived supernatural attribute, which may only be approachable through ethnographic research and cross-culture comparisons.
Also, with so few foreign items in both lithic inventories, Aoyama's idea that intra-regional trade may be far more important than long-distance trade in some locations (Aoyama 2001) may be relevent here. Exotic items may have been relevent to kings and other nobility, but may have had little bearing on the society as a whole. Such items could have been completely re-interpreted within the local ideology with little or no actual transfer of ideas during the exchange.
However, foreign objects must have born some significance in order to have been interred with elite individuals. "More data" is indeed required to investigate these ideas, but data of what type? We may strengthen or weaken arguements of symbolic hierarchy, both in death and in life, but it seems that some more interesting questions raised by this study will require entirely different forms of data to bring us closer to any answers.
Source article:
Camberos, Lorenza Lopez Mestas. 2008. Green Stones in Central Jalisco. Report to the Foundation for the Advancement in Mesoamerican Studies, Inc. Translated by Eduardo Williams. Electronic document, http://www.famsi.org/reports/03083/index.html, accessed April 11, 2010.
Additional reference:
Ayoyama, Kazuo. 2001. Classic Maya State, Urbanism, and Exchange: Chipped Stone Evidence of the Copan Valley and Its Hinterland. American Anthropologist 103(2):346-360.
Symbolism and Identity in Domestic Architecture
Although the material aspects of households are the most readily amenable to archaeological interpretation, symbolic archeologists would argue that one must surpass the purely material and functional understanding of domestic structures, to examine households as symbolic representations of the people who inhabit(ed) them. Symbolic archaeology arose in the 1980’s under the umbrella term ‘post-processual archaeology,’ as a reaction to the rigid materialism and ecologically-deterministic view of culture which dominated prior archaeological study. Ian Hodder, a British symbolic archaeologist, was critical of the ability of “function and utility in explaining social and cultural systems,” where “material culture is seen simply as a passive object of functional use” (Hodder 1982: 3). Instead, Hodder (1982) believed that culture, and material remains, should be interpreted for meaning rather than function.
Lepofsky et al. (2009) examined settlement remains of the Stó:lō Coast Salish people in Fraser Valley, British Columbia using data from six recently tested archaeological sites, spanning a period from 4200 B.C. to A.D. 1800’s. The six settlements in the analysis incorporate semi-subterranean houses of different forms as well as above-ground plank houses. Through this investigation of a range of house types over a quite broad time scale, the researchers are able to see both change and continuity in settlement location, layout, size and house form (595). Drawing from a rich source of historical and ethnographic records, as well as archaeological work done on the site over the past 60 years, Lepofsky et al. (2009) analyze and interpret how the house location, layout, size and form may “simultaneously reflect and reproduce social, political and ideological principles of their owners and occupants” (596).
Lepofsky et al. (2009) determined that there is a strong continuity between the ancient houses in the Frasier Valley and the more recent pithouse and plank house settlements that arose after colonial contact (Lepofsky et al 2009). The styles of the unique house and settlement types that exist in the Fraser Valley today are believed to be symbolic representations of the fluidity of the Fraser River itself, and represent “the unique character, central place, and long-term importance of the Stó:lō amid both Northwest Coast and interior spheres of regional interaction and identity formation” (595) .
The importance of agency is more apparent in symbolic constructions of domestic space, particularly in works such as Lepofsky et al (2009) which relate architecture to social identity. In general, symbolic archaeologists speak more about agency in archaeology than most, perhaps due to their typically finer-grained scale of analysis, and some even assert the concept of “active material culture.” In this sense, material culture is given a sort of agency in and of itself, in that it is not simply seen a collection of passive objects only to be used and manipulated by agents, but rather, material culture – and in this case, residential architecture – is active, simultaneously being shaped by and shaping human action.
Hodder, Ian
1982 Theoretical Archaeology: a Reactionary View. In Symbolic and Structural Archaeology, edited by I. Hodder, pp. 1-16. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Lepofsky, D., Schaepe, D.M., Graesch, A.P., Lenert, M., Ormerod, P., Carlson, K.T., Arnold, J.E., Blake, M., Moore, P., and Clague, J.J.
2009 Exploring sto:lo-Coast Salish interaction and identity in ancient houses nad settlements in the Fraser Valley, British Columbia. American Antiquity 74(4): 595-627.
Lepofsky et al. (2009) examined settlement remains of the Stó:lō Coast Salish people in Fraser Valley, British Columbia using data from six recently tested archaeological sites, spanning a period from 4200 B.C. to A.D. 1800’s. The six settlements in the analysis incorporate semi-subterranean houses of different forms as well as above-ground plank houses. Through this investigation of a range of house types over a quite broad time scale, the researchers are able to see both change and continuity in settlement location, layout, size and house form (595). Drawing from a rich source of historical and ethnographic records, as well as archaeological work done on the site over the past 60 years, Lepofsky et al. (2009) analyze and interpret how the house location, layout, size and form may “simultaneously reflect and reproduce social, political and ideological principles of their owners and occupants” (596).
Lepofsky et al. (2009) determined that there is a strong continuity between the ancient houses in the Frasier Valley and the more recent pithouse and plank house settlements that arose after colonial contact (Lepofsky et al 2009). The styles of the unique house and settlement types that exist in the Fraser Valley today are believed to be symbolic representations of the fluidity of the Fraser River itself, and represent “the unique character, central place, and long-term importance of the Stó:lō amid both Northwest Coast and interior spheres of regional interaction and identity formation” (595) .
The importance of agency is more apparent in symbolic constructions of domestic space, particularly in works such as Lepofsky et al (2009) which relate architecture to social identity. In general, symbolic archaeologists speak more about agency in archaeology than most, perhaps due to their typically finer-grained scale of analysis, and some even assert the concept of “active material culture.” In this sense, material culture is given a sort of agency in and of itself, in that it is not simply seen a collection of passive objects only to be used and manipulated by agents, but rather, material culture – and in this case, residential architecture – is active, simultaneously being shaped by and shaping human action.
Hodder, Ian
1982 Theoretical Archaeology: a Reactionary View. In Symbolic and Structural Archaeology, edited by I. Hodder, pp. 1-16. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Lepofsky, D., Schaepe, D.M., Graesch, A.P., Lenert, M., Ormerod, P., Carlson, K.T., Arnold, J.E., Blake, M., Moore, P., and Clague, J.J.
2009 Exploring sto:lo-Coast Salish interaction and identity in ancient houses nad settlements in the Fraser Valley, British Columbia. American Antiquity 74(4): 595-627.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Treponemal Disease in the Middle East
The Origin of Treponemal diseases, such as pinta, yaws, endemic and venereal syphilis, is a very controversial issue (Mitchell 2003:117). The issue itself can be broken down into several debates, which even now the archaeological community is arguing over. The biggest question of these debates is, of course, were treponemal diseases present in the Old World pre-contact or do we have Columbus to thank for bringing these diseases to Europe (Hunnius et.al. 2006: 559)? Answers to other smaller issues that are directly involved in this central issue are also being researched, though. For example, an article by Piers Mitchell called “Pre-Columbian Treponemal Disease From 14th Century AD Safed, Israel, and Implications for the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean” seeks to answer the question: when did these diseases enter the Middle East (Mitchell 2003:117)? In this article, he is attempting to show that treponemal diseases were present before the 17th and 18th centuries because these dates are the earliest dates archaeologists have for these disease’s presence in the Middle East, and if these dates are earlier than those of Columbus’ return, 1492, then this paper also lends credence to the belief that treponemal diseases were present pre-contact (Mitchell 2003: 117 and Hunnius et.al. 2006: 559 and 565). The importance of this issue demands that the public and archaeological community take a critical view of any articles that present evidence on one side or the other of this debate and as such, this paper will present Mitchell’s findings, methods, and whether these methods were carried out in a careful enough manner to really provide trustworthy evidence towards the larger issue of these debates.
Mitchell’s sample for this study is believed to have been excavated from a cave in Israel near a town called Safed (2003: 118). These remains, “68 skulls”, are now located at the University of Cambridge and there is very little documentation to support when or where these remains were unearthed (Mitchell 2003: 118). The only thing known for sure is that they ended up in Cambridge in 1912 (Mitchell 2003: 118). Only the skulls of these remains are present at Cambridge and very few of the skulls themselves are complete (Mitchell 2003: 118). Mitchell conducted both an macroscopic analysis of just the skulls and then he conducted a radiological analysis to see within the bone (2003: 118). He found that only one of the skulls showed lesions suggestive of treponemal disease, skull 5111 (Mitchell 2003: 118). This skull is incomplete, with only the parietals or the bones on the sides of the skull and only some of the occipital or the bone at the back of the skull present (Mitchell 2003: 118). This particular skull was dated using AMS or “accelerator mass spectrometry radiocarbon dating” (Mitchell 2003: 118).
The analysis of skull 5111 found that there are two star-shaped lesions on the parietals of the skull that can be seen trough macroscopic analysis and the radiograph showed several star-shaped lighter areas (Mitchell 2003: 119). They also found that some of the bone was healing by being covered over with an outer layer of bone and a tiny area of caries sicca was present (Mitchell 2003: 119 and 121). Though destruction of the skull bones can be caused by several diseases, these star- shaped lesions, the presence of caries sicca, and the healing processes present are characteristic of treponematosis (Mitchell 2003: 121). The date of this skull is between 1290 and 1420 AD (Mitchell 2003: 117).
His argument seems very convincing at first, but there are several problems with this study, most of which are not the author’s fault. First, there is the fact that the only evidence that these remains were found near Safed is a “hand-drawn map” and a note made when these remains came to the university (Mitchell 2003: 118). This is not documentation, these remains could have come from anywhere, which does not lend credence to his argument that treponematosis was present in the Middle East before the 17th century (Mitchell 2003: 117). Second, Mitchell does not have the rest of the remains of this skeleton to support his conclusion, which. while not his fault, leaves him with very little evidence to support his conclusions (Mitchell 2003: 119). Finally, radiographic analysis is a fine way to study diseased bone, but for suspected cases of treponemal disease more evidence can be found by using “ polarized light microscopy” on thin ground sections of bone because there are some features characteristic of treponemal disease that can only be seen microscopically (Schultz 2001:110,112, and 126).
Keeping all of these problems in mind, Mitchell did a pretty good job with what he had to work with. Unfortunately, the lack of verification of where these remains came from kills his argument (Mitchell 2003: 118). This same problem also makes it hard to support the argument that treponemal diseases were present in Europe pre-contact (Mitchell 2003: 118 and Hunnius et.al. 2006: 559). Perhaps if the site could be found where these skulls came from and was re-excavated, there may be further evidence of treponemal disease found on these bones, but until that happens all Mitchell has really shown is that there are remains at the University of Cambridge with lesions indicative of treponemal disease (Mitchell 2003: 118).
Works Cited
Hunnius, Tanya E. von, Charlotte A. Roberts, Anthea Boylston, and Shelley R. Saunders
2005 Histological Identification of Syphilis in Pre-Columbian England. American Journal of Physical Anthropology129: 559-566.
Mitchell, Piers D.
2003 Pre-Columbian Treponemal Disease From 14th Century AD Safed, Israel, and Implications for the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean. American Journal of Physical Anthropology 121: 117-124.
Schultz, Michael
2001 Paleohistopathology of Bone: A New Approach to the Study of Ancient Diseases. Yearbook of Physical Anthropology 44: 106-147.
Mitchell’s sample for this study is believed to have been excavated from a cave in Israel near a town called Safed (2003: 118). These remains, “68 skulls”, are now located at the University of Cambridge and there is very little documentation to support when or where these remains were unearthed (Mitchell 2003: 118). The only thing known for sure is that they ended up in Cambridge in 1912 (Mitchell 2003: 118). Only the skulls of these remains are present at Cambridge and very few of the skulls themselves are complete (Mitchell 2003: 118). Mitchell conducted both an macroscopic analysis of just the skulls and then he conducted a radiological analysis to see within the bone (2003: 118). He found that only one of the skulls showed lesions suggestive of treponemal disease, skull 5111 (Mitchell 2003: 118). This skull is incomplete, with only the parietals or the bones on the sides of the skull and only some of the occipital or the bone at the back of the skull present (Mitchell 2003: 118). This particular skull was dated using AMS or “accelerator mass spectrometry radiocarbon dating” (Mitchell 2003: 118).
The analysis of skull 5111 found that there are two star-shaped lesions on the parietals of the skull that can be seen trough macroscopic analysis and the radiograph showed several star-shaped lighter areas (Mitchell 2003: 119). They also found that some of the bone was healing by being covered over with an outer layer of bone and a tiny area of caries sicca was present (Mitchell 2003: 119 and 121). Though destruction of the skull bones can be caused by several diseases, these star- shaped lesions, the presence of caries sicca, and the healing processes present are characteristic of treponematosis (Mitchell 2003: 121). The date of this skull is between 1290 and 1420 AD (Mitchell 2003: 117).
His argument seems very convincing at first, but there are several problems with this study, most of which are not the author’s fault. First, there is the fact that the only evidence that these remains were found near Safed is a “hand-drawn map” and a note made when these remains came to the university (Mitchell 2003: 118). This is not documentation, these remains could have come from anywhere, which does not lend credence to his argument that treponematosis was present in the Middle East before the 17th century (Mitchell 2003: 117). Second, Mitchell does not have the rest of the remains of this skeleton to support his conclusion, which. while not his fault, leaves him with very little evidence to support his conclusions (Mitchell 2003: 119). Finally, radiographic analysis is a fine way to study diseased bone, but for suspected cases of treponemal disease more evidence can be found by using “ polarized light microscopy” on thin ground sections of bone because there are some features characteristic of treponemal disease that can only be seen microscopically (Schultz 2001:110,112, and 126).
Keeping all of these problems in mind, Mitchell did a pretty good job with what he had to work with. Unfortunately, the lack of verification of where these remains came from kills his argument (Mitchell 2003: 118). This same problem also makes it hard to support the argument that treponemal diseases were present in Europe pre-contact (Mitchell 2003: 118 and Hunnius et.al. 2006: 559). Perhaps if the site could be found where these skulls came from and was re-excavated, there may be further evidence of treponemal disease found on these bones, but until that happens all Mitchell has really shown is that there are remains at the University of Cambridge with lesions indicative of treponemal disease (Mitchell 2003: 118).
Works Cited
Hunnius, Tanya E. von, Charlotte A. Roberts, Anthea Boylston, and Shelley R. Saunders
2005 Histological Identification of Syphilis in Pre-Columbian England. American Journal of Physical Anthropology129: 559-566.
Mitchell, Piers D.
2003 Pre-Columbian Treponemal Disease From 14th Century AD Safed, Israel, and Implications for the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean. American Journal of Physical Anthropology 121: 117-124.
Schultz, Michael
2001 Paleohistopathology of Bone: A New Approach to the Study of Ancient Diseases. Yearbook of Physical Anthropology 44: 106-147.
The Hohokam"Collapse"
The concept of societal collapse looms large in an archaeological context and yet, a singular variable as a means of causation remains elusive. Numerous models have been developed and applied to collapse. However, they are devoid of a conclusive causation. Collapse is not a product of a singular action or condition, but must be attributed to multiple variables. When they are applied in conjunction create a situation ripe for social instability. Rebecca M. Dean goes beyond the traditional ecological models of Hohokam collapse and analysis the role of hunting intensification prior to abandonment in the region of Southern Arizona by the middle of the 15th century. In her paper Hunting intensification and the Hohokam “collapse”, she attempts to demonstrate that population decline is a product of economic intensification and poorer nutrition brought about by a shrinking resource base.
There have been numerous explanations for the decline of the Hohokam population by A.D. 1450. However, they tend to be firmly and solely rooted in ecological explanations: “catastrophic climate deterioration, the failure of crops due to draught, flood, climate change or salinization of fields” (Dean 2007:110). Even warfare as a possible cause of decline has its basis on the competition for a limited resource base due to environmental constraints. Dean views the gradual population decline of the Hohokam people as a product of demographic stressors in conjunction with ecological stressors on settlements and the landscape, which is visible in the archaeological record. The resulting economic intensification and poorer nutrition due to a lack of sustainable resources led to a decrease in fertility and a rise mortality that would eventually bring about the demise of the Hohokam people.
In order to maintain population and cultural stability within a group context, resource sustainability must be maintained. When evidence of resource stress and hunting intensification becomes apparent in faunal assemblages, there is an apparent degradation in the resource base. Rebecca Dean uses this as the foundation for her analysis of how hunting intensification and an investment in to diverse hunting strategies is a key indicator of resource instability, which directly leads to the “collapse” of the Hohokam populations.
The author bases her assertions on a database of 85 faunal assemblages from the entire Hohokam cultural region, which span the Early Agricultural through the Classic periods. In order to provide an adequate sample size, assemblages were required to contain at least 100 identifiable species in a village context and at least 50 in a logistical camp or farmstead site. All samples were located below 800 m in elevations to limit a disproportionate number of particular game species. Even excluding higher elevation, the author contends that the sample retains adequate environmental diversity. The fauna database was also limited to specimens that could be collected through ¼ in. screen. Dean notes that fish and bird specimens may not be recovered from the standard ¼ in. screen. Dean attests that fish remains were not common at Hohokam sites and that species of raptors were used as ritual burials, which greatly inflate their presence in the archaeological record. Rodent species also tend to be problematic, therefore only the larger species were used in the analysis.
The intent in not to analyze the quantity of small or large game in the assemblages, but rather determine diversification in hunting strategies through time. The assumption is that the greater the observed diversity, the greater the populations need to implore additional resources to sustain the group. Dean attests that a society would not undertake an investment in diverse hunting strategies unless there was a specific need for the community. She then divides the Hohokam hunting strategies into five categories, not by faunal type but rather, the strategic methods for hunting them. Prey species are also then divided into five categories based on the strategic methods for hunting them. The distribution of faunal remains within these groups is subjected to a diversity index of evenness. The higher the index value the greater the shift in the traditional hunting strategy of hunting lagomorphs (rabbits).
Based on the resulting indices created from the 85 faunal assemblages a clear pattern of diversification emerges through time. Dean’s interpretation of the index analysis is that by the Classis period tradition hunting strategies were no longer providing adequate food and that diverse hunting strategies had to be implored to provide subsistence for the population. It is noted however, that by the Classic period the population “may have been sufficiently aggregated to allow an additional strategy of resource intensification: the allocation of specialized labor to long-distance artiodactyl hunting” (Dean 2007:124). Areas of highest population density also sought out higher degrees of diversity in hunting strategies. These diverse strategies included an increased willingness to hunt small game, birds, aquatic animals, and artiodactyls in conjunction with traditional diet staples. The underlying nature of hunting diversification demonstrates a society on the brink. When ecological or social factors such as warfare come into play, societal collapse is only hastened.
Rebecca Dean’s article makes significant forays into understanding the greater complexity of societal collapse. By acknowledging that collapse is the result of numerous factors intertwining to produce a singular effect over an extended temporal period rather than an overreaching variable during a single generation, she lays the foundation for a deeper understanding of “collapse”. Unfortunately, the model she developed may be to generalized to retain validity under securitization. Dean acknowledges the flaws in her analysis, but asserts that because it has fewer assumptions to violate and relies less heavily on specific data it is more applicable on a regional scale. This may be true, but the lack of specificity creates broad generalization that may not be implicit in all cases. Therefore, the analyses Dean provides retains important implications on understand resource stresses and the effect on population densities and eventually societal collapse. However, Dean should acknowledge that generalizations may not provide enough to substantiate an irrefutable analysis on the Hohokam “collapse”.
By: Lucas Hoedl
References Cited
Dean, Rebecca M.
2007. Hunting intensification and the Hohokam “collapse”. Journal of Anthropological
Archaeology 26: 109-132.
Monday, March 15, 2010
High-Altitude Biological Adaptation
In Lorna Grindlay Moore’s, and Judith G. Regensteiner’s paper entitled Adaptation to High Altitude, the authors write about the biological problems that humans face who live at high altitudes. They outline the challenges that hhumans living at high altitudes today experience largely due to the low levels of oxygen in the air. In fact, the oxygen supply is reduced by one-half at the highest altitudes at which human populations reside. This reduction in oxygen intake can cause serious and life-long health issues.
This paper points to a multitude of problems that are prevalent in populations from high altitudes, some that can even lead to death. These include reduced fecundity, problems during pregnancy, childhood growth retardation, high-altitude pulmonary edema, chronic mountain sickness and emphysema. With all these health risks, one would assume that high altitudes would not be popular places to live. However, today, at least 30 million people live and successfully reproduce at elevations over 7,500 feet and people have done so for thousands of years.
Hypoxia (a condition in which the body is deprived of adequate oxygen supply) of high altitudes cannot be ameliorated by culture. This distinguishes hypoxia from other harsh environmental conditions like extreme cold or heat. In addition, it created an ideal environment for studying natural selection because all of the people in a population have access to the exact same amount of oxygen. Today, there are only four regions of the world in which groups of humans reside at elevations above 2500 meters: the Rocky Mountains in North America, the Andes of South America, the Ethiopian Highlands of Eastern Africa, and the Himalayas of South-Central Asia.
Scientists feel that natural selection has had enough time to increase the frequency of adaptive alleles in mountain populations who live in all four of these areas except the Rocky Mountains. Research has been done with populations that have inhabited the Andean and Tibetan Plateaus for millennia and scholars have identified distinctive morphological and physiological characteristics thought to offset the stress of high-altitude hypoxia. These adaptations include thin-walled pulmonary vasculature, relative hypoventilation of Andean high-altitude natives or the elevated exhaled nitric oxide of Tibetans.
Scientists now feel that there is enough evidence to show that people who have lived in these high altitudes for long periods of time have developed adaptations resulting from natural selection favoring more effective adaptive responses to hypoxia. Yes, there are those who can say that their ancestors have lived in a high-altitude environment for thousands of years, but not many. The implications for the health of many people who live in high altitudes are obvious. As stated by Moore and Regensteiner, many questions remain to be explored, especially those regarding prevention and treatment.
Moore, Lorna Grindlay and Regensteiner, Judith G.
1983 Adaptation to High Altitude. Annual Review of Anthropology 12:285-304.
This paper points to a multitude of problems that are prevalent in populations from high altitudes, some that can even lead to death. These include reduced fecundity, problems during pregnancy, childhood growth retardation, high-altitude pulmonary edema, chronic mountain sickness and emphysema. With all these health risks, one would assume that high altitudes would not be popular places to live. However, today, at least 30 million people live and successfully reproduce at elevations over 7,500 feet and people have done so for thousands of years.
Hypoxia (a condition in which the body is deprived of adequate oxygen supply) of high altitudes cannot be ameliorated by culture. This distinguishes hypoxia from other harsh environmental conditions like extreme cold or heat. In addition, it created an ideal environment for studying natural selection because all of the people in a population have access to the exact same amount of oxygen. Today, there are only four regions of the world in which groups of humans reside at elevations above 2500 meters: the Rocky Mountains in North America, the Andes of South America, the Ethiopian Highlands of Eastern Africa, and the Himalayas of South-Central Asia.
Scientists feel that natural selection has had enough time to increase the frequency of adaptive alleles in mountain populations who live in all four of these areas except the Rocky Mountains. Research has been done with populations that have inhabited the Andean and Tibetan Plateaus for millennia and scholars have identified distinctive morphological and physiological characteristics thought to offset the stress of high-altitude hypoxia. These adaptations include thin-walled pulmonary vasculature, relative hypoventilation of Andean high-altitude natives or the elevated exhaled nitric oxide of Tibetans.
Scientists now feel that there is enough evidence to show that people who have lived in these high altitudes for long periods of time have developed adaptations resulting from natural selection favoring more effective adaptive responses to hypoxia. Yes, there are those who can say that their ancestors have lived in a high-altitude environment for thousands of years, but not many. The implications for the health of many people who live in high altitudes are obvious. As stated by Moore and Regensteiner, many questions remain to be explored, especially those regarding prevention and treatment.
Moore, Lorna Grindlay and Regensteiner, Judith G.
1983 Adaptation to High Altitude. Annual Review of Anthropology 12:285-304.
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