Repair of King Tutankhamun’s beard begins

The restoration of the golden funerary mask of King Tutankhamun has begun after last year’s botched attempted to reattach the false beard left it with a thick, ugly layer of visible epoxy glue and scratches on the gold. The mask was removed from public view on the second floor of the Egyptian Museum two weeks ago and moved to a laboratory. A team of German and Egyptian conservators led by Christian Eckmann examined it thoroughly, using a microscope to assess its condition and figuring out how best to approach the removal of the epoxy without damaging the gold.

“We have some uncertainties now, we don’t know how deep the glue went inside the beard, and so we don’t know how long it will take to remove the beard,” [Christian Eckmann] said on the sidelines of a news conference with the antiquities minister, Mamdouh el-Damaty, and Tarek Tawfik, director-general of the still-under-construction Grand Egyptian Museum near the pyramids.

“We try to make all the work by mechanical means … we use wooden sticks which work quite well at the moment, then there is another strategy we could implement, slightly warming up the glue,” he said. “It’s unfortunately epoxy resin which is not soluble.”

The process of removing the beard by scraping away the glue with wooden sticks could take at least a month. Once the thick glue layer has been removed, the team will study how to reattach the beard. The beard has a pin that fits into a slot on the chin, but it’s been loose since Howard Carter discovered it in 1922. A 1941 restoration added a thin layer of adhesive to keep the beard stable. In the seven decades since then, the adhesive weakened, which is likely why the beard fell off when it was jostled last year during routine work on the display’s lighting. A joint scientific committee will decide the best method of reattachment.

There are two components to the restoration project: the detachment/reattachment of the beard, and a comprehensive study of the materials and techniques used to manufacture the mask. While the gold mask of Tutankhamun has been one of the most photographed artifacts in the world since its discovery, it has never been thoroughly documented and studied with modern scientific methods. Having to repair this reprehensible conservation disaster does therefore have something of a silver lining.

The funding for the restoration comes from the German Foreign Ministry which is donating 50,000 euros ($57,000) as part of its Cultural Preservation Program.

Imperial ramp of Domitian opens to public

For the first time since it was discovered in 1900, a monumental ramp built by Emperor Domitian in Rome opened to the public on Tuesday, October 20th. Domitian built the ramp in the second half of the 1st century A.D. to connect the Roman Forum, the administrative and political heart of the city, to the imperial palace complex of the Palatine, the city’s center of power. With high walls flanked by storerooms, the imperial ramp went up seven levels with six turns between them and was as much as 35 meters (115 feet) high. Of the seven original ramps levels, four remain, but they are more than sufficient to convey the majesty of the space and the symbolic significance of the steep ascension from popular politics to imperial might. Visitors who walk the ramp will emerge atop the Palatine to a breathtaking view of the Roman Forum that before now regular folks haven’t had the chance to experience.

Also restored is a great hall which in the early Middle Ages was converted into the Oratorio of the Forty Martyrs, dedicated to the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste. Built no later than the 8th century, the Oratorio is adjacent to the Byzantine church of Santa Maria Antiqua, famed for its rare frescoes, and signficant portions of the Oratorio’s original Byzantine frescoes have survived as well. They date to the 8th and 9th centuries and depict a procession of saints and possibly St. Anthony of Egypt. The floor is made of repurposed marble fragments in a random jigsaw arrangement. The Oratorio has been accessible to the public in a limited way before, but just on its own. The new restoration has reintegrated it into the ramp, making it the entrance to Domitian’s complex.

The ramp was discovered by architect, engineer and archaeologist Giacomo Boni. Boni was appointed director of excavations of the Roman Forum in 1898 and he dug until works were interrupted by World War I in 1916. The years between 1899 and 1905 were particularly intensive. Boni made major discoveries during this time, among them the Lapis Niger and Vulcanal, the Regia, the Aedes Vestae (shrine of Vesta), an archaic necropolis next to the temple of Antoninus and Faustina and the Byzantine church of Santa Maria Antiqua.

When he unearthed the imperial ramp of Domitian, he set about restoring it almost as soon as he found it, rebuilding the fallen brickwork of the vast vaulted ceilings of the first two levels and clearing the path all the way through to its connecting point with the Clivus Victoriae, a sloping road that went uphill from the Velabro, a former swamp between the Tiber and the Forum, to the top of the Palatine. The section of the ramp linking to the Clivus is still undergoing work, but is scheduled to open to visitors in March.

A temporary exhibition (it ends January 10th, 2016) inside the ramp puts on display a selection of the most important ancient artifacts discovered during the excavation of the Forum. Also on display will be surviving 17th century wall frescos Boni stripped from the church of Santa Maria Liberatrice before demolishing it to expose the more ancient and glamorous Santa Maria Antiqua which had been part of Domitian’s imperial palace complex before being converted to a Christian church in the 6th century. The hall that would be transformed into the Oratorio of the Forty Martyrs, in fact, was just underneath Santa Maria Liberatrice.

This short clip from the Archaeological Superintendency of Rome has a few images of the 1900 excavation and the ramp as it is today.

[youtube=https://youtu.be/D5dQjpfNjmE&w=430]

Bronze Age weapon cache found on Scottish island

Archaeologists excavating the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) Scotland nature reserve on the Isle of Coll in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland have discovered a cache of 3,000-year-old broken bronze weapons.

The excavation, directed by the Treasure Trove Unit in conjunction with National Museums Scotland and the RSPB, recovered twelve objects from at least seven swords and spears.

Jill Harden, RSPB Scotland Reserves Archaeologist, said: “This is the first discovery of this size from Argyll for many years. The items were recovered from what had once been a freshwater loch. It seems that they had been purposely broken and cast into the waters as part of a ceremony, most likely as offerings or gifts to the gods or goddesses of the time. It is recorded that bronze swords were found on Coll in the 19th century during drainage works, but their whereabouts today are unknown.”

Trevor Cowie, of National Museums Scotland’s Department of Scottish History & Archaeology, said: “While a fair number of objects from this period have been discovered in the west of Scotland in the past, we generally know very little about the precise places where they were found. Archaeological techniques have developed dramatically since those 19th century discoveries were made, so we have a great opportunity here to resolve many unanswered questions about life on Coll some 3,000 years ago.”

The weapons were on display briefly at the Isle of Coll’s An Cridhe community centre on Thursday and Friday of last week, but have been allocated to the Kilmartin Museum in Argyll for conservation where they will be stabilized and made ready for permanent exhibition to the public.

Jill Harden added: “It is expected that a consortium of local interests, universities and museums will come together to reveal the full history of these objects in time. However, their story is much broader than that of the items themselves. We should be able to reveal what Coll’s landscape was like in the past, how much it has altered over time, and whether there were contemporary environmental stresses that meant people resorted to making offerings to the gods in the hope of change.”

That’s why the RSPB Scotland is involved in archaeological excavations of its lands in the first place, to increase understanding of the wider context and history of the environment.

The RSPB Scotland manages 1,075 hectares of mire, dunes, bog, machair and unimproved grassland on the Isle of Coll. This richly biodiverse ecosystem is home to rare birds including the skylark, twite, barnacle geese, Greenland white-fronted geese and most significantly the rare corncrake, a ground-dwelling bird once common in the UK which has been devastated by mechanical mowing of its tall grass breeding grounds. Working with local farmers, the RSPB Scotland has successfully increased the corncrake population in the Coll preserve just by making a few changes to farming practices like mowing the hay in August instead of July. Since the reserve was acquired in 1991, its corncrake population has more than quadrupled, although it’s still tiny at just 66 calling males.

Florida’s only prehistoric saltwater canoe goes on display

A prehistoric dugout canoe discovered in 2001 on Weedon Island in Tampa Bay, Pinellas County, Florida, has gone on display after 14 years of conscientiousness, dedication and hard work. Ken Pachulski and Harry Koran found a piece of the wood sticking out of the mangrove peat on the shore of the Weedon Island Preserve. Once they realized it was likely part of a boat, they did something you very rarely encounter in this kind of story: they reburied the exposed section and left it alone.

Two years later, the Weedon Island Preserve Cultural and Natural History Center opened. Figuring the new center would have the resources and know-how to deal with the artifact, Pachulski and Koran alerted the center’s manager Phyllis Kolianos to their discovery, showing her pictures and video they had shot of the canoe. Kolianos worked with county, state, tribal and federal authorities for eight years to secure the necessary permits for a full excavation.

Meanwhile, the center did everything they could to document and monitor the canoe in situ. A test dig was done to recover some samples to date and identify the wood. The wood was confirmed to be pine, the predominant local timber after which the county is named. Radiocarbon dating found the canoe was built between 690 and 1010 A.D.

In 2011, the comprehensive excavation began. Archaeologists and volunteers unearthed the full surviving length of the canoe, an impressive 40 feet of the estimated 45-foot original length. That makes it the longest prehistoric canoe ever found in Florida. It has a raised bow, an indication that the canoe was used to navigate open water, not just inland rivers and lakes. That gives it another unique claim to fame: it is the only saltwater canoe ever found in Florida. Historians know canoes were used to navigate the coastal areas, but unlike those used on inland bodies of water which are found in still, peaty oxygen-free environments, boats buried in salt water with the tidal currents and ever-shifting sands of the Gulf Coast don’t survive. The mangroves of Weedon Island saved this one canoe for posterity.

There are holes in the side of the canoe and archaeologists found a pine pole from the same period underneath of it. These features may be an indication that the canoe was connected to a twin to make a catamaran which could navigate the open water over long distances. The pole may have had other uses, like as a punting paddle or a docking tool. Evidence inside the canoe shows that it was made with a combination of two techniques: slow-burning coals were used to soften the log’s insides which were then scraped out with stone and shell tools.

The canoe and pole date to the Weeden Island II Period (700 A.D. – 1200 A.D.) of the Weeden Island Culture, a descendant of the Manasota Culture which first settled Florida’s central Gulf coast about 2,500 years ago. Most of what we know about the Weeden Island Culture comes from pottery discovered in burial mounds, village sites and midden piles. This is the only dugout canoe ever discovered from the culture and as such expands our understanding of a little-known people.

In order to remove the canoe, it was cut into 10-foot sections. The pieces were then placed in a tank of polyethylene glycol (PEG) so that the water could be gradually extracted and replaced with the waxy substance. PEG doesn’t dry out like water does, so it will keep the wood supple and free from cracking or shrinking.

“We never wanted the canoe to leave Pinellas County,” said Brent Weisman, a retired University of South Florida archaeology professor and head of the Alliance for Weedon Island Archaeological Research and Education. “That was one of our goals. We didn’t want to send it to Tallahassee or Washington or somewhere else; we wanted it to always stay here. So we built the tank ourselves.”

The canoe stayed in its bath for three years and was allowed to dry for another year before it was ready for display. The four sections have now been reassembled and exhibited in a custom display case at the Weedon Island Preserve Cultural and Natural History Center.

Jefferson-era chemistry hearth found in UVA’s Rotunda

The University of Virginia Rotunda building, originally designed by Thomas Jefferson, has been undergoing an extensive renovation since 2012. The $58.3 million project has already replaced the steel panels of the dome with copper, repaired the exterior the brick work and window sashes, and is now focusing on the interior. While checking the walls of one of the basement rooms, workers found a chemistry hearth dating to the original Jefferson-era building from the 1820s. Brian Hogg, senior historic preservation planner of the university’s Office of the Architect, believes the hearth “oldest intact example of early chemical education” in the United States.

The chemical hearth was built as a semi-circular niche in the north end of the Lower East Oval Room. Two fireboxes provided heat (one burning wood for fuel, the other burning coal), underground brick tunnels fed fresh air to fireboxes and workstations, and flues carried away the fumes and smoke. Students worked at five workstations cut into stone countertops.

Jefferson arranged for the chemistry laboratory to be placed in the basement because of the danger of running furnaces on the upper floors. John Emmet, UVA’s first professor of natural history, after finding the small room assigned to be his lab far too hot for use in experiments, was given both the large basement rooms for his classes in June of 1825. He used the Lower East Oval Room for experiments and demos and the Lower West Oval Room for lectures.

Thomas Jefferson’s vision for a new system of public education was one rigorous enough to compete with the ancient and prestigious universities of Europe while avoiding their aristocratic trappings and structural inadequacies. He described this vision in a letter to the Trustees for the Lottery of East Tennessee College from May 6th, 1810:

I consider the common plan followed in this country, but not in others, of making one large and expensive building, as unfortunately erroneous. It is infinitely better to erect a small and separate lodge for each separate professorship with only a hall below for his class, and two chambers above for himself; joining these lodges by barracks for a certain portion of the students, opening into a covered way to give a dry communication between all the schools. The whole of these arranged around an open square of grass and trees, would make it, what it should be in fact, an academical village, instead of a large and common den of noise, of filth and of fetid air. It would afford that quiet retirement so friendly to study, and lessen the dangers of fire, infection and tumult.

It would be seven years before Jefferson acquired the land for what would become the University of Virginia, but his vision of a community of learning was undimmed. He designed the Rotunda, modeled after the Pantheon in Rome, to be the literal and figurative center of the academic village, the university library flanked by faculty pavilions and student dorms.

Construction began in 1822 and was still ongoing when Jefferson died in 1826. The building had issues from the beginning — the dome leaked — and the needs of the students soon outgrew the space. Two wings of the Rotunda used as covered exercise yards were converted into classrooms in 1841. A four-story annex was built between 1851 and 1854 to provide additional classroom space, laboratory space and an auditorium. Water from the perpetually leaking roof and from an ill-fated scheme to install two 7,000-gallon water tanks under the dome for campus use damaged the walls and ceilings.

Then, on October 27th, 1895, fire struck. It started in the annex, likely caused by faulty electrical wiring. Engineering professor William H. Echols tried to save the Rotunda by dynamiting the connector linking the annex to the original building. The plan backfired horribly when the explosion blew a hole in the Rotunda which injected fresh new oxygen into the conflagration. When the last of the flames were extinguished, the annex was destroyed, the dome was gone and the Rotunda was gutted. Only the brick walls and columns were left standing.

The task of reconstructing the Rotunda was assigned in 1896 to the New York architectural firm of McKim, Mead and White, specifically to Gilded Age trendsetter Stanford White who 10 years later would be scandalously murdered on the roof of his own Madison Square Garden. White changed the building in major ways: he widened the oculus, gave the interior two floors instead of Jefferson’s three, enlarging the Dome Room, installed new heating and ventilation systems, used fireproof materials, changed the portico columns to thicker pillars with new Corinthian capitals. In 1976 the Rotunda was gutted and rebuilt in keeping with Jefferson’s original design.

Given this history, the odds against anything at all from the Rotunda of 1826 surviving are astronomical. What saved the chemistry hearth was its having been walled up before the construction of the annex, probably in the 1840s when the chem lab was moved to the southwest excercise yard after it was converted into classroom space.

The university is embracing this unique find from its earliest days. The plan is to rebuild the original arch above the entrance to the hearth space and to create some sort of barrier to keep people from stepping into the alcove, but to leave the hearth itself as it is now for display.