I'm Kenney Mencher. I'm an artist who left a tenured professorship in 2016 to pursue making art full time. This blog is about art, art history, with a emphasis on human rights. I make homoerotic art featuring bears, otters & other gay wildlife.
The "Panathanaic Procession," at the British Museum, has very different levels of "haute" (high) and "bas" (low) relief than it looks like in slides and books. The sculptures tell more of a visual story about depth and space than I thought. Some background elements are super shallow (bas) while the foreground is much higher (haute). Even the fingers on a couple of the hands have a similar layering and change in depth. There is also a layering that I didn't think was there until I saw it in person.
One of the cool things I got to see in person at the British Museum, was Lady Puabi's skull and headdress. I haven't gotten to see a very close up image of it. It's quite creepy. So I of course took some close up images of it. When Woolley and his crew excavated it, they couldn't safely separate the skull, the crown, and the soil. The tomb had been looted back in the second or third millenia. This was what the robbers missed. I bet in the future they'll be able to do it digitally.
Archeologists are not even sure if it is actually Puabi's skull, the location suggests it's her.
At the British Museum today. I got to see, in person, the "Standard of Ur." Seeing something I've been teaching for 35 years and getting to look closely at it was fun. It's much smaller than I thought it would be, and the texture is in higher relief and the color a bit deeper. The plaque said most of the wood was gone (I thought all of it had deteriorated) I couldn't tell if any of the wood was original. I'll be visiting the museum for the next two or three days. Barely had the head space to look at Jericho, Mesopotamia, and Egypt. More pics to follow.
Praxiteles’ Hermes and the Infant Dionysus represents a shift in Greek sculpture while maintaining ties to earlier Classical traditions. The anatomy of Hermes' face, while softer and more naturalistic, still retains some traditional elements, like the archaic smile and the structural similarities to earlier works such as the Kritian Boy and the Blonde Boy’s Head. These features include the construction of the eye ridges and the nose, showing continuity with Classical conventions even as Praxiteles introduced his own innovations.
Hermes is depicted in a pronounced contrapposto stance, which is more exaggerated than earlier examples, such as those seen in the works of Polykleitos. Praxiteles, known for challenging Polykleitos' kanon of idealized proportions, introduced a more naturalistic and relaxed quality to his figures. As art historian Jennifer Tobin notes, Praxiteles favored realism over strict adherence to canonical forms. This is evident in the languid pose and the weight distribution of Hermes, which suggest more movement and fluidity compared to the angular, blockier musculature of Polykleitos’ Doryphoros. One of my professors described these innovations as creating “swimmers’ bodies,” with subcutaneous fat and more naturalistic musculature.
Hermes' pose, in which he teases the infant Dionysus by holding grapes just out of reach, allows for a dynamic weight shift. This interaction highlights the naturalism Praxiteles brought to his work. Hermes’ body exhibits subtle anatomical distortions typical of Classical sculpture, but the musculature is more lifelike. The infant Dionysus is particularly striking in its naturalistic proportions. Unlike earlier depictions of children as miniature muscular adults, Dionysus appears more realistic, with a smaller head and hints of subcutaneous fat. This marks a departure from earlier conventions and adds a sense of liveliness to the piece.
The sculpture connects to the mythological origins of Dionysus as recounted in Euripides’ The Bacchae. According to the myth, Dionysus was born under extraordinary circumstances after his mortal mother, Semele, was killed upon seeing Zeus in his true form. Zeus saved the unborn child by implanting him in his thigh until he was ready to be born. The sculpture captures a moment after this dramatic birth, with Hermes entrusted to protect and deliver the infant to the satyrs, who would raise him in secret to keep him safe from Hera’s jealousy.
The interaction between Hermes and Dionysus is playful but symbolic. The lost arm of Hermes likely held grapes, foreshadowing Dionysus’ future role as the god of wine and drama. The scene is a lighthearted interlude, distinct from the intense drama of The Bacchae. It reflects the nurturing and protective role Hermes played in safeguarding Dionysus during his infancy, a critical moment in the god's mythological narrative. Here’s a reconstruction of how it might have looked.
This sculpture exemplifies Praxiteles’ ability to blend traditional Classical elements with new stylistic approaches, creating a piece that bridges the gap between earlier ideals and more naturalistic, emotionally resonant forms. The softer, more dynamic figures of Hermes and Dionysus reflect a turning point in Greek art, one that would influence the development of sculpture for generations.
Praxiteles’ Hermes and the Infant Dionysus is a famous work traditionally attributed to Praxiteles, a renowned sculptor of the 4th century BCE. The sculpture reflects his characteristic style, with its naturalistic forms, relaxed contrapposto stance, and soft, lifelike details. Praxiteles is known for challenging earlier conventions, favoring realism and human emotion over rigid idealization.
The most well-known version of this sculpture was discovered in 1877 at the Temple of Hera in Olympia during a German archaeological expedition. It was found in pieces near the ruins of the temple and is now housed in the Archaeological Museum of Olympia. Historians and archaeologists believe this marble version might be an original work by Praxiteles or a close copy created in his workshop. The debate stems from the fact that most Greek sculptures from this period were originally cast in bronze, with marble often used later for Roman reproductions or for temple statuary. The Hermes found in Olympia is unique because of its fine details and high craftsmanship, which suggest it could be an original.
This version was discovered under controlled conditions, typical of 19th-century archaeological practices, which often prioritized excavating monumental sites like Olympia. The fragments were carefully recovered, restored, and reassembled, though some parts, like Hermes' right arm and the grapes, remain missing. Archaeologists reconstructed the piece as closely as possible, but the absence of these elements leaves some aspects of the sculpture's original appearance open to interpretation.
The provenance of other versions or possible copies of Hermes and the Infant Dionysus is less clear. Unlike the Roman marble copies of other famous Greek works, there are few known replicas of this piece. The Olympia sculpture’s condition and setting make it a rare find and one of the few that might plausibly be an original by Praxiteles. However, since marble was also used for temple displays, it’s possible that this version was a high-quality reproduction intended for religious worship at the site.
Portraits of rulers
communicate how a ruler was understood during their lifetime and how they were
treated after death. What happens to a portrait once the ruler is gone often
tells us as much as the image itself. The bronze head usually identified as Sargon
of Akkad is a good example of this problem. Many scholars want it to be a
portrait of Sargon of Akkad, partly because Sargon fits the profile of a
powerful founder figure. According to later texts, he began his career as a cup
bearer to the ruler of Kish, then rose through military command, and
eventually created the Akkadian Empire through conquest. That story makes the
identification appealing, but the archaeological evidence does not confirm it.
The head was found in 1931 during Iraqi excavations at Nineveh,
and it was not uncovered in a palace or shrine. It appears to have been reused
as fill in a much later Assyrian layer and was found face down in
debris. There was no architectural setting that suggested it was displayed or
honored. More importantly, the damage was deliberate and happened before
burial. The eyes were gouged out, the ears were cut off, and the nose was
broken at both the tip and the bridge. The head was also separated from the body.
This kind of targeted damage is usually described as iconoclasm, meaning
the intentional destruction of an image for political reasons. When eyes, ears,
and nose are destroyed, it is often understood as a way of “killing” the image
and dishonoring the person it represents. Similar actions have taken place in
much more recent history when statues of fallen leaders were torn down.
There is no inscription naming the ruler, which is another
reason the identification remains uncertain. Even so, the object matches what
we expect from royal portraiture in Mesopotamia based on material, scale, and
technique. The head is cast in bronze, an alloy of copper and tin, which
required access to raw materials, skilled labor, and high temperatures. Bronze
objects were expensive to produce, and the fact that this one was not melted
down later suggests it had some continuing meaning, even if that meaning became
negative. Stylistically, the facial features follow Mesopotamian conventions.
The eyebrows form strong arched shapes made from repeated patterned lines. The
beard and hair are arranged in regular, geometric striations. These patterns
recall earlier stylization, such as the eyebrows seen on the votive figures
from Tell Asmar, but the modeling of the face is more naturalistic. The
cheeks, mouth, and jaw show a closer observation of human anatomy than earlier
stone figures.
The eyes are large,
which fits established conventions rather than individual likeness. Earlier
figures used enlarged eyes, possibly linked to ritual attention or simply to a
shared visual system. This kind of exaggeration works much like modern cartooning
styles, where certain features are emphasized because artists are trained to
repeat them. The head covering is also debated. Some scholars describe it as
stylized hair, but it may represent a cloth headdress. There is a clear band
across the forehead, with patterned forms falling below it. Students often
notice that this resembles a wrapped head covering, similar to a shemagh,
rather than loose hair. Comparable head coverings appear later on sculptures of
rulers such as Gudea, suggesting a long tradition of formal royal
headdress rather than individualized hairstyles.
The technical process used to make this head helps explain
why it mattered. It was produced using the cire perdue method, also
known as the lost-wax process. First, a full model of the head was made
in clay. A thin layer of wax was applied over that model to define surface
details. Wax rods were added to create channels for air and molten metal. The
wax-covered form was then encased in an outer mold of clay or plaster. When
heated, the wax melted and drained away. Molten bronze was poured into the
empty space left behind. After cooling, the mold was broken open, the metal
channels were cut away, and the surface was finished with tools. If the
sculpture was hollow, the core material inside was broken out through an
opening at the base. Each step required time, fuel, tools, and trained workers,
which means the process itself was a form of investment in the person being
depicted.
Taking all of this together—the uncertain identification,
the costly material, the careful casting, and the later mutilation—it is
reasonable to think this head represented a ruler who later fell out of favor.
The damage does not look accidental, and the reuse of the object as
construction fill suggests a deliberate loss of status. Whether or not the head
represents Sargon specifically, it shows how portraits could be used, attacked,
and discarded as political power shifted.
When professors,
textbooks, and disciplines talk about the earliest civilizations of the ancient
Near East, the terminology can shift depending on context. A safe and widely
accepted term is the ancient Near East, described as historic
because these cultures developed writing. Another common and practical term is Mesopotamia
or Mesopotamian civilization. This term refers to a region located
between two rivers—the Tigris and Euphrates—an area that today falls largely
within modern Iraq, with parts of Syria, Turkey, and Iran. The word Mesopotamia
comes from Greek: meso meaning “middle” and potamia meaning
“rivers.”
Mesopotamian civilization begins when people settle into
large, permanent urban communities, roughly between 4500 and 4000 BCE, with
some of the earliest major cities reaching their height around 3000 BCE.
Depending on the textbook, Mesopotamian history is often said to extend as late
as 100 BCE. You may also see the term Fertile Crescent, which refers to
the arc of fertile land stretching from the eastern Mediterranean through
Mesopotamia. While accurate geographically, that term can be confusing because
it is sometimes used to describe much earlier prehistoric Neolithic
sites such as Jericho, Göbekli Tepe, and Çatalhöyük, which existed before
writing. Once writing appears, historians classify these societies as historic
rather than prehistoric.
Mesopotamia was never a single unified culture for most of
its history. Instead, it was made up of many independent city-states, including
Ur, Uruk, Lagash, Girsu, Nippur, Akkad, Babylon, and Susa. Each city-state had
its own government, patron gods, rulers, and traditions. These city-states
remained politically separate until periods when empires emerged and conquered
them, such as under the Akkadians, Babylonians, Assyrians, or Persians.
By around 3000 BCE, Mesopotamian cities ranged in size from
roughly 1,000 people to over 10,000, making them among the largest urban
centers in the world at the time. These societies had agriculture, organized
religion, specialized labor, long-distance trade, and systemsof law. While later
cultures built on earlier ones, each Mesopotamian civilization was distinct in
language, political structure, and artistic style.
Art historians usually approach Mesopotamian material using
three related methods of analysis. The first is context, which looks at
where an object was found, how it was used, who made it, and what was happening
historically at the time. Context includes geography, religion, economics,
politics, and even literature. The second approach is form, which
focuses on physical characteristics such as material, size, shape, surface, and
how an object was made. This includes descriptive terms like texture, scale, and
construction methods. The third approach is iconography, which deals
with subject matter, symbols, and imagery that can be identified through
written records or repeated visual patterns. Because interpretation can easily
drift into speculation, starting with context and form helps ground analysis in
verifiable facts.
In survey courses, the main Mesopotamian cultures usually
introduced first are the Sumerians, Akkadians, and Babylonians. The Sumerians
are especially important because many foundational developments appear in
Sumerian cities first. One of the most important of these is writing, known as cuneiform,
which emerges around 3500–3200 BCE. Later cultures continued to use cuneiform
even when they spoke different languages, such as Akkadian, Babylonian, and
Assyrian. This reuse of religious ideas, symbols, and writing systems across
cultures is often described as syncretism.
Agriculture and
irrigation played a central role in Mesopotamian life, but these were not
entirely new inventions. Earlier Neolithic cultures already practiced farming.
What changed in Mesopotamia was scale. Large irrigation systems supported dense
urban populations, which required administration, record-keeping, and systems
of law. The unpredictable flooding of the Tigris and Euphrates—sometimes
destructive and sudden—made life difficult. Unlike the Nile in Egypt,
Mesopotamian floods could arrive at dangerous times during planting or harvest.
The landscape itself offered few natural defenses.
Mesopotamia is mostly flat, with open plains that made invasion relatively
easy. There was little stone or timber, so buildings were primarily made from
mudbrick and reeds. Summers could reach extreme temperatures, often over 40°C
(104°F). These environmental pressures shaped daily life and religious
practice. Many Mesopotamian texts describe a world in which the gods are
powerful, distant, and unpredictable, and humans must constantly work to
appease them.
Among Mesopotamia’s documented innovations are the potter’s slow
wheel, early plows, sailboats, wheeled vehicles, and beer, which was a
common way to process grain into a calorie-dense food. Mesopotamians also
developed advanced mathematics. They used a base-10 system for counting and a
base-60 system for time and measurement. This base-60 system survives today in
60-minute hours and 60-second minutes. They created calendars, mapped the
stars, and tracked celestial cycles to guide agriculture. Some mathematical
tablets demonstrate knowledge of geometric relationships that predate Greek
mathematicians like Pythagoras by more than a thousand years.
Writing was the most significant development for historians
because it created permanent records. Cuneiform writing takes its name
from the Latin cuneus, meaning “wedge,” referring to the wedge-shaped
marks made by pressing a reed stylus into soft clay. Early writing began as
simple pictographs—drawings of objects representing those objects directly.
Over time, these images became more abstract and standardized.
The earliest writing
systems were used for accounting. Small clay tokens and tablets recorded
quantities of grain, animals, or goods. These pictographs evolved into logograms,
where a symbol stood for a word or concept, and later into syllabic
signs representing sounds. Eventually, cuneiform combined logograms and
phonetic elements, though it never became a fully alphabetic system.
Clay tablets could be
reused while still wet or fired in kilns to create permanent records. Fired
tablets survive in enormous numbers; archaeologists have recovered tens of
thousands from Mesopotamian sites. Some tablets were enclosed in clay envelopes
and sealed using cylinder seals. These small carved cylinders, usually
between 1 and 5 centimeters long, were rolled across wet clay to create a
continuous image. Made from materials such as lapis lazuli, carnelian, or
limestone, cylinder seals functioned as signatures, security devices, and
status markers. Once sealed, a document could not be opened without breaking
the seal, making forgery difficult.
Literacy in Mesopotamia was rare. Estimates suggest that
fewer than 1% of the population could read and write. Writing was mostly
limited to trained scribes, priests, and administrators who studied for years
in schools called edubbas. Written texts include economic records,
religious hymns, legal codes, treaties, scientific observations, and
literature.
One of the most famous Mesopotamian texts is the Epic of
Gilgamesh, written on clay tablets in Akkadian and compiled in its standard
form around 1200 BCE, with earlier versions dating back to at least 2100 BCE.
The epic was discovered in fragments, most notably in the library of the
Assyrian king Ashurbanipal at Nineveh in the 7th century BCE. These tablets are
now housed primarily in the British Museum. The epic provides direct written
evidence of Mesopotamian ideas about kingship, mortality, friendship, and the
limits of human life.
Together, Mesopotamian cities, technologies, artworks, and
texts show how early urban societies organized labor, religion, government, and
memory. Because so much of this evidence survives in clay—tablets, seals, and
pottery—Mesopotamia offers one of the most detailed archaeological records of
the ancient world.
Sources commonly used in survey courses include the British
Museum collection, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Oriental Institute of
the University of Chicago, and translations of Mesopotamian texts by scholars
such as Andrew George and Samuel Noah Kramer. Dates and population estimates
are based on archaeological consensus published in standard references such as The
Oxford History of the Ancient Near East and The Ancient Near East by
William Hallo and William Kelly Simpson.
