Latest news with #Pompeiian
Hindustan Times
17-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Art and the Man: In memory of K Venkatappa
On Kasturba Road, abutting Cubbon Park, is a set of three adjacent buildings that feature in every 'Things To Do In Bengaluru' list. The first, if you are heading down from Queens Road, is a nondescript rectangular structure, with an actual Marut – the first Indian-developed jet fighter, conceived and manufactured at Hindustan Aeronautics Limited in the 1960s – in its front lawn, which houses the exciting, interactive Visvesvaraya Industrial and Technological Museum (VITM). The second, whose name and purpose elude many Bangaloreans, is the magnificent neoclassical structure designed by Col Richard Sankey in 1877 and painted an eye-catching Pompeiian red (psst, that is the Government Museum, which contains many priceless historical artefacts, and is currently under renovation). The third, a plain modernist building set back from the road and originally designed to stand in the middle of an artificial island, is the Venkatappa Art Gallery (VAG), established in 1975 primarily to house the works of one of the most celebrated artists of the erstwhile Mysore state. Many Bangaloreans believe that the red building is in fact the VAG, but that kind of mix-up is less likely to happen going forward; last week, as part of its golden jubilee celebrations, a swank, state-of-the-art VAG, renovated by the Brigade Foundation, reopened to the public in the same location. His artistic talent – he came from a long lineage of Chitrakaras, court painters patronised by the Mysore kings – was spotted early, by the Maharaja of Mysore, Nalvadi Krishnaraja Wadiyar, who urged the lad to hone his skills at the Government School of Art in Calcutta. Arriving in Calcutta at 23, Venkatappa spent the next seven years studying under Tagore, alongside peers like Nandalal Bose, the pioneer of modern Indian art, and Asit Kumar Haldar, one of the major artists of the Bengal Renaissance. Like other artists of his generation who grew up in the ferment of nationalism, Venkatappa strove to create a new paradigm of art that was resolutely 'Indian'. But his reluctance to align himself with any artistic school, his rejection of important commissions that did not, in his estimation, compensate him adequately, or interfered with his artistic style (he preferred working in watercolours, when oils, inspired by Raja Ravi Varma, were all the rage in Mysore), and his habit of frequently neglecting his art for his music saw him produce far less work than his contemporaries. He may have faded into obscurity were it not for the Irish poet and theosophist James Cousins (famously responsible for nudging Kannada poet laureate Kuvempu into writing in his mother tongue after the latter solicited Cousins' feedback on his collection of poems in English), who, taken by Venkatappa's talent, recommended him to Nalvadi's brother, the Yuvaraja, in 1924. A royal commission followed soon after – a series of bas reliefs for the Mysore Palace, with a studio in the palace thrown in as a bonus. Venkatappa accepted, but he was by then so deep into his 'Ooty watercolours' phase (during which he produced some of his finest work) that delivery of the reliefs was inordinately delayed. With the death of Nalvadi in 1940, Venkatappa lost his most loyal patron. The new king, Jayachamarajendra Wadiyar, summarily dismissed the artist and evicted him from the palace. Furious, Venkatappa sued the Palace, but in vain. He produced no more new work until his death in 1965. That the state government should have, despite everything, set up a gallery for his work 50 years ago, is clearly a testament to K Venkatappa's relevance and impact as an artist. But go visit the VAG, and judge for yourself! (Roopa Pai is a writer who has carried on a longtime love affair with her hometown Bengaluru)
The Independent
15-04-2025
- The Independent
Breakthrough in mystery of life-size sculptures discovered in Pompeii tomb
Visitors to the site of Pompeii, the ancient Roman town buried (and so preserved for thousands of years) by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD, don't often think to look beyond the city walls. And it's easy to understand why: there's plenty on offer within this monumentally well-preserved town, from jewel-like wall paintings of myths and legends like Helen of Troy, to the majestic amphitheatre and sumptuously stuccoed baths. But step outside the gates for a moment, and you're in a very different – yet no less important – world. For the ancient Romans, the roads and paths leading into and out of cities were crucial: not just for getting places, but as a very real kind of 'memory lane'. Tombs lined these ancient byways – some simply bearing inscriptions to the memories of loved ones lost, others, more grand, accommodating space for friends and family to feast in remembrance of the dead. Some of the tombs even address the passerby directly, as if its occupant could speak again, and pass on what they've learned. Take one Pompeiian example, set up by the freedman Publius Vesonius Phileros, which opens with ineffable politeness: 'Stranger, wait a while if it's no trouble, and learn what not to do.' Going into Pompeii, and leaving it, was about being reminded of ways of living and ways of dying – as well as an invitation to tip your hat to those who trod the path before you, and to learn from their example. Which is why the recent discovery of a monumental tomb crowned by life-size sculptures of a woman and man, just outside the gates on the east side of the town, isn't just a fascinating find in and of itself. It's also a reminder to stop, and to remember the people who once lived and died in this bustling Italian town. The tomb's main feature is a large wall, peppered with niches where cremated remains would have been placed, and surmounted by the astonishing relief sculpture of the woman and man. They're standing side by side, but not touching. I rather like that she's slightly taller than him, standing at 1.77m, while he's 1.75m. She's draped in a modest tunic, cloak and veil (symbols of Roman womanhood) and boasts a pronounced crescent-moon-shaped pendant at her neck called a lunula, that (through the age-old link with lunar cycles) tells a story about female fertility and birth. He, meanwhile, is dressed in the quintessentially Roman toga that instantly identifies him as a proud male citizen of Rome. Who do the statues depict? The status quo in archaeology, when a woman and a man are presented next to each other in tombs and burials like this, has always been to assume that she's his wife. Yet here, there's an unmissable clue that there's more going on. That's because, in her right hand, she's holding a laurel branch – which was used by priestesses to waft the smoke of incense and herbs in religious rituals. Priestesses, in the Roman world, held unusual levels of power for women – and it's been suggested that this woman might have been a priestess of the goddess Ceres (Roman equivalent of Demeter). So this high-status priestess is shown alongside a man. The inclusion of the symbols of her status (as priestess) alongside his (as a togatus, or 'toga-wearing man'), shows that she's there in her own right, as a contributing member of Pompeiian society. She might be his mother; she might even have been more important than him (which would explain why she's taller). Without an inscription, we don't know for sure. The point is: a woman doesn't have to be a wife to be standing next to a man. What's fascinating is that this isn't unique to Pompeii. In my new book, Mythica, which looks at the women not of Rome but of Bronze age Greece, I've found that new discoveries in archaeology are overturning the assumptions that used to be made about a woman's place in society, and the value of their roles, all the time. One fascinating example is a royal burial in Late Bronze Age Mycenae: a woman and a man who'd been buried together in the royal necropolis, around 1700 years before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius decimated Pompeii. As is typical, this woman was immediately labelled, by the archaeologists who uncovered her, as the man's wife. But then DNA analysis came into the picture. As recently as 2008, both skeletons were sampled for DNA – and came up with the game-changing result that they were, in fact, brother and sister. She'd been buried here as a member of a royal family by birth, not by marriage, in other words. She was there on her own terms. From golden Mycenae to the ash-blasted ruins of Pompeii: the remains from the ancient world are telling us a different story from the one we always thought. A woman didn't have to be a wife to make a difference. So I think it's worth listening to the advice of our friend Publius. Let's look at the burials of the past, and learn.
The Independent
07-04-2025
- The Independent
Breakthrough in mystery of life-size sculptures uncovered in Pompeii tomb
Visitors to the site of Pompeii, the ancient Roman town buried (and so preserved for thousands of years) by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79AD, don't often think to look beyond the city walls. And it's easy to understand why: there's plenty on offer within this monumentally well-preserved town, from jewel-like wall paintings of myths and legends like Helen of Troy, to the majestic amphitheatre and sumptuously stuccoed baths. But step outside the gates for a moment, and you're in a very different – yet no less important – world. For the ancient Romans, the roads and paths leading into and out of cities were crucial: not just for getting places, but as a very real kind of 'memory lane'. Tombs lined these ancient byways – some simply bearing inscriptions to the memories of loved ones lost, others, more grand, accommodating space for friends and family to feast in remembrance of the dead. Some of the tombs even address the passerby directly, as if its occupant could speak again, and pass on what they've learned. Take one Pompeiian example, set up by the freedman Publius Vesonius Phileros, which opens with ineffable politeness: 'Stranger, wait a while if it's no trouble, and learn what not to do.' Going into Pompeii, and leaving it, was about being reminded of ways of living and ways of dying – as well as an invitation to tip your hat to those who trod the path before you, and to learn from their example. Which is why the recent discovery of a monumental tomb crowned by life-size sculptures of a woman and man, just outside the gates on the east side of the town, isn't just a fascinating find in and of itself. It's also a reminder to stop, and to remember the people who once lived and died in this bustling Italian town. The tomb's main feature is a large wall, peppered with niches where cremated remains would have been placed, and surmounted by the astonishing relief sculpture of the woman and man. They're standing side by side, but not touching. I rather like that she's slightly taller than him, standing at 1.77m, while he's 1.75m. She's draped in a modest tunic, cloak and veil (symbols of Roman womanhood) and boasts a pronounced crescent-moon-shaped pendant at her neck called a lunula, that (through the age-old link with lunar cycles) tells a story about female fertility and birth. He, meanwhile, is dressed in the quintessentially Roman toga that instantly identifies him as a proud male citizen of Rome. Who do the statues depict? The status quo in archaeology, when a woman and a man are presented next to each other in tombs and burials like this, has always been to assume that she's his wife. Yet here, there's an unmissable clue that there's more going on. That's because, in her right hand, she's holding a laurel branch – which was used by priestesses to waft the smoke of incense and herbs in religious rituals. Priestesses, in the Roman world, held unusual levels of power for women – and it's been suggested that this woman might have been a priestess of the goddess Ceres (Roman equivalent of Demeter). So this high-status priestess is shown alongside a man. The inclusion of the symbols of her status (as priestess) alongside his (as a togatus, or 'toga-wearing man'), shows that she's there in her own right, as a contributing member of Pompeiian society. She might be his mother; she might even have been more important than him (which would explain why she's taller). Without an inscription, we don't know for sure. The point is: a woman doesn't have to be a wife to be standing next to a man. What's fascinating is that this isn't unique to Pompeii. In my new book, Mythica, which looks at the women not of Rome but of Bronze age Greece, I've found that new discoveries in archaeology are overturning the assumptions that used to be made about a woman's place in society, and the value of their roles, all the time. One fascinating example is a royal burial in Late Bronze Age Mycenae: a woman and a man who'd been buried together in the royal necropolis, around 1700 years before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius decimated Pompeii. As is typical, this woman was immediately labelled, by the archaeologists who uncovered her, as the man's wife. But then DNA analysis came into the picture. As recently as 2008, both skeletons were sampled for DNA – and came up with the game-changing result that they were, in fact, brother and sister. She'd been buried here as a member of a royal family by birth, not by marriage, in other words. She was there on her own terms. From golden Mycenae to the ash-blasted ruins of Pompeii: the remains from the ancient world are telling us a different story from the one we always thought. A woman didn't have to be a wife to make a difference. So I think it's worth listening to the advice of our friend Publius. Let's look at the burials of the past, and learn.
CNN
28-02-2025
- Entertainment
- CNN
Newly discovered Pompeii frieze shows wild Bacchanalian rituals
Another new discovery in the ruins of Pompeii has shed light on the wilder side of the ancient Romans. An extremely rare frieze known as a 'megalography,' or painting with life-sized figures, has been unearthed in an area where ongoing excavations have produced some of the ancient site's most important finds. Uncovered in what was once a spacious banqueting hall that opened onto a garden, the frieze dates back to the 1st century BC, meaning it was nearly 100 years old when Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD, burying Pompeii in pumice and killing more than 2,000 inhabitants. The newest discovery, in Region IX in the central part of the city, depicts the procession of Dionysus, the ancient Greek god of wine, against walls and columns painted in Pompeiian red. The depictions show priests and priestesses, known as bacchantes or maenads, portrayed as dancers, along with flautists, hunters and huntresses with slaughtered animals slung on their shoulders. In one image, a hunter swings a sword from which animal entrails are dangling. In another, a figure makes an acrobatic offering of wine, the libation flowing behind him from a drinking horn. At the center of the frieze, next to Dionysus' companion Silenus, stands a woman. She is on the brink of being initiated into the mysteries of Dionysus, an ancient ritual using intoxicants to remove inhibitions. Initiates then became members of 'mystery cults.' Their rites could not be revealed to those outside the cult and were therefore a source of great fascination to the wider populace. In 186 BC, the Roman Senate banned the rites, known as Bacchanalia, on moral grounds, except in special circumstances. Nonetheless, they continued, especially in southern Italy. All the figures in the frieze are shown on pedestals, and a second row of images above the human figures shows animals – alive and dead – as well as sea creatures and seafood in baskets. Gabriel Zuchtriegel, director of the Archaeological Park of Pompeii, said the frescoes were intended to delight guests at the banquets. 'Rather like when we find a copy of Michelangelo's Creation of Adam on the wall of an Italian restaurant in New York to create a little bit of atmosphere,' he said in a press statement published Wednesday. 'For the ancients, the bacchante or maenad expressed the wild, untamable side of women: the woman who abandons her children, the house and the city, who breaks free from male order to dance freely, go hunting and eat raw meat in the mountains and the woods,' Zuchtriegel said. 'In other words, the direct opposite of the 'nice' woman who emulates Venus, the goddess of love and marriage, the woman who looks at herself in the mirror and 'dolls herself up.'' The room has been named the House of Thiasus, a reference to the Greek word for the procession of devotees of Dionysus, the archaeological park said in the statement. It will open to the public immediately, with 15 people admitted at a time. 'The megalography provides another glimpse into the rituals of the mysteries of Dionysus. It is an exceptional historical document and, together with the fresco of the Villa of the Mysteries, constitutes a one-of-a-kind, making Pompeii an extraordinary testimony to an aspect of life in classical Mediterranean life that is largely unknown,' Italy's culture minister, Alessandro Giuli, said in the statement. 'We are living in an important moment for Italian and world archaeology which has also registered a strong increase in visitors.' In 2024, more than four million people visited the site. In 2025, the park will cap daily visitors to 20,000 a day. The discovery comes more than 100 years after a similar frieze depicting the Dionysiac mysteries was found in the so-called Villa of the Mysteries near the main entrance of the archaeological park. Recent excavations in Region IX, which covers around 3,200 square meters (0.8 acres), unearthed a lavish spa, exotic frescoes in a villa that was undergoing renovation when Vesuvius erupted, and a bakery. CNN's Sharon Braithwaite contributed to this report.
CNN
28-02-2025
- Entertainment
- CNN
Newly discovered Pompeii frieze shows wild Bacchanalian rituals
Another new discovery in the ruins of Pompeii has shed light on the wilder side of the ancient Romans. An extremely rare frieze known as a 'megalography,' or painting with life-sized figures, has been unearthed in an area where ongoing excavations have produced some of the ancient site's most important finds. Uncovered in what was once a spacious banqueting hall that opened onto a garden, the frieze dates back to the 1st century BC, meaning it was nearly 100 years old when Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD, burying Pompeii in pumice and killing more than 2,000 inhabitants. The newest discovery, in Region IX in the central part of the city, depicts the procession of Dionysus, the ancient Greek god of wine, against walls and columns painted in Pompeiian red. The depictions show priests and priestesses, known as bacchantes or maenads, portrayed as dancers, along with flautists, hunters and huntresses with slaughtered animals slung on their shoulders. In one image, a hunter swings a sword from which animal entrails are dangling. In another, a figure makes an acrobatic offering of wine, the libation flowing behind him from a drinking horn. At the center of the frieze, next to Dionysus' companion Silenus, stands a woman. She is on the brink of being initiated into the mysteries of Dionysus, an ancient ritual using intoxicants to remove inhibitions. Initiates then became members of 'mystery cults.' Their rites could not be revealed to those outside the cult and were therefore a source of great fascination to the wider populace. In 186 BC, the Roman Senate banned the rites, known as Bacchanalia, on moral grounds, except in special circumstances. Nonetheless, they continued, especially in southern Italy. All the figures in the frieze are shown on pedestals, and a second row of images above the human figures shows animals – alive and dead – as well as sea creatures and seafood in baskets. Gabriel Zuchtriegel, director of the Archaeological Park of Pompeii, said the frescoes were intended to delight guests at the banquets. 'Rather like when we find a copy of Michelangelo's Creation of Adam on the wall of an Italian restaurant in New York to create a little bit of atmosphere,' he said in a press statement published Wednesday. 'For the ancients, the bacchante or maenad expressed the wild, untamable side of women: the woman who abandons her children, the house and the city, who breaks free from male order to dance freely, go hunting and eat raw meat in the mountains and the woods,' Zuchtriegel said. 'In other words, the direct opposite of the 'nice' woman who emulates Venus, the goddess of love and marriage, the woman who looks at herself in the mirror and 'dolls herself up.'' The room has been named the House of Thiasus, a reference to the Greek word for the procession of devotees of Dionysus, the archaeological park said in the statement. It will open to the public immediately, with 15 people admitted at a time. 'The megalography provides another glimpse into the rituals of the mysteries of Dionysus. It is an exceptional historical document and, together with the fresco of the Villa of the Mysteries, constitutes a one-of-a-kind, making Pompeii an extraordinary testimony to an aspect of life in classical Mediterranean life that is largely unknown,' Italy's culture minister, Alessandro Giuli, said in the statement. 'We are living in an important moment for Italian and world archaeology which has also registered a strong increase in visitors.' In 2024, more than four million people visited the site. In 2025, the park will cap daily visitors to 20,000 a day. The discovery comes more than 100 years after a similar frieze depicting the Dionysiac mysteries was found in the so-called Villa of the Mysteries near the main entrance of the archaeological park. Recent excavations in Region IX, which covers around 3,200 square meters (0.8 acres), unearthed a lavish spa, exotic frescoes in a villa that was undergoing renovation when Vesuvius erupted, and a bakery. CNN's Sharon Braithwaite contributed to this report.
