This isn’t an especially compelling mural, but Google Translate decided to translate its source, “La tombe de Patron,” as “The Boss’s Tomb” and that’s pretty funny.
[ID: A square piece of masonry on which is painted a mural; the mural features two individuals, one draped in what appears to be a tunica (a long women’s tunic) and the other in a short chiton, of the kind normally worn by young men and women. The chiton-wearing individual has a tool of some kind, what looks like a threshing staff, slung over one shoulder. The Louvre cannot identify either person’s gender, and the mural is heavily damaged.]
Imagine you’re at a Roman banquet, looking forward to a possible orgy later, and some server rocks up to you with this cup, filled with wine so that angry little dude is just floating in it. Terrifying. I want one.
[ID: A shallow, broad silver bowl with a wide flat base. Set inside the bowl, in the middle of the base, is a man’s head and shoulders, so that it looks like he’s emerging from a pool. The man is visibly elderly, with short hair, high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and a scowling mouth. When filled, only his face and part of his head would be visible, as if he was bathing in wine.]
This is listed on the Louvre’s website as a knife handle with the blade missing and I’m not sure how that works, but I’m here for it.
[ID: A carved bone figurine of a gladiator, wearing a tunic, padded trousers, and a helmet with pierced holes in the face; it has greek lettering along the bottom of the tunic. It doesn’t look as though it would have been comfortable to hold as a knife handle.]
[ID: Top image is a photograph of a bronze plate with a raised lip; the flat bottom of the plate has round half-sphere indentations. The bottom image is a similar plate only made of plastic, with half the round indentations filled with deviled eggs. Believe it or not, the bronze plate is in fact an egg plate as well!]
I want to write some kind of weird book just so I can use this photo as a cover. (There are images of the full statue at the link, I was just entranced by this particular shot.)
[ID: A close-up of a white marble sculpture, showing just the forearm, hand, and a comedic mask cradled in the hand, with a wig attached. The mask has a wide, leering grin and enormous eyes under heavy brows, and the overall effect is extremely cool and weird.]
This is a statue of Aphrodite, and I love it in significant part because it shows her in motion rather than posing, and she looks just like an ordinary awkward human, albeit a very beautiful one. I like that she’s caught taking her shoe off.
[ID: A statuette of a woman, bent slightly at the waist; one arm is stretched down to touch her sandal, while the other is raised and holding a ball; she looks like she might be dancing or preparing to play a game.]
I’m pretty sure the figurine doesn’t actually come from the mold, but it’s a pretty interesting example, and they were right next to each other in the Louvre catalogue…
[ID: Two images; the first is a ceramic mold that would be used to create a figurine of a pigeon out of clay. The second image is a clay pigeon of the kind that might be popped out of a mold like what’s above it.]
[ID: A fragment of a mural depicting a chariot; the chariot itself is small and filled with what appear to be musical instruments and fabric, and hitched to it are two annoyed-looking griffins, with wings, horns, beaks, and paws.]
[ID: A sculpture of a lion, with a detailed incised mane and thick heavy limbs; its front left paw is raised and resting on a bright gold ball, in contrast with the dark grey-green of the rest of it.]
This is not a chanukiyah, the menorah used on Hanukkah (those have nine branches, not seven) but the second I saw this I said “Oh, what up Judaism” and the Louvre confirmed it for me. Their focus is on the candelabra and the braided vegetation around it but I’m pretty sure that’s a shofar on the right of the inside the wreath, and possibly a lulav on the left? Either way, fun to see!
[ID: A piece of masonry carved with several objects – rosettes at the corners, a wreath of some kind of vegetation, and a seven-branch candelabra, consisting of six branches curving outward from a central stem, flanked by two sinuous shapes. The one on the right resembles a traditional shofar horn, and the one on the left appears to be a long rod of some kind with two small branches off the main.]
This ring is interesting in part because I don’t know what it means and I’m not sure the Louvre does either. It’s part of the Boscoreale treasure, which means it could be placed anywhere between 500 BCE and 100 CE, and the Louvre takes a stab at identifying the symbol as an anchor, but I’m a bit skeptical.
[ID: A silver ring, mounted on a little slab of clay for photography. The top of the ring is wider and slightly flattened. Incised on the flat bezel are two circles joined by a single vertical line. Branching off from the vertical line are two diagonal lines, both pointing “up” towards the top circle, one about 1/3 of the way down from it and the other about 1/3 of the way from the bottom circle. The vertical line thrusts into the bottom circle and ends on a point.]
This isn’t an especially compelling mural, but Google Translate decided to translate its source, “La tombe de Patron,” as “The Boss’s Tomb” and that’s pretty funny.
[ID: A square piece of masonry on which is painted a mural; the mural features two individuals, one draped in what appears to be a tunica (a long women’s tunic) and the other in a short chiton, of the kind normally worn by young men and women. The chiton-wearing individual has a tool of some kind, what looks like a threshing staff, slung over one shoulder. The Louvre cannot identify either person’s gender, and the mural is heavily damaged.]
I see u there, Caesar Augustus, with your lil crab claw hairdo and your sticky-out ears. How you been, my man?
[ID: A marble statue of Augustus, seen from the chest up; he is draped in fabric, including a sheet of fabric covering his head from the crown of his hair backwards. He has pleasantly stick-out ears, a nondescript face, and short-cropped hair that subtly forms a “crab claw” lock in front, evoking imagery of Alexander the Great.]
I love spoons like this, that are basically just tiny bowls with handles, but this one is also fun because it allowed me to share with you the Treasure of Boscoreale, which is something a lot of the objects in the Louvre’s online catalogue are flagged with right now. (Round about page 915.)
TheTreasure of Boscoreale is a cache of silver and gold objects, dated across 500 years from the 4th century BCE to the first century CE. It was found in an ancient ruin at Villa della Pisanella (in Boscoreale, Italy, hence the name), which was buried in the eruption of Pompeii in 79 CE. I’m particularly fond of it because roughly half of the treasure is absolutely gorgeous and the other half is insanely hideous. There’s very little inbetween.
If you’re local to the Louvre or the British Museum the treasure items are well worth a trip to visit, and if you aren’t, well, Boscoreale is a fun rabbit-hole to chase down. Either way, enjoy this silver spoon!
[ID: A silver spoon consisting of a half-circle for the bowl of the spoon, with a burn mark on one side; the handle is an extremely narrow and thin spindle, like a chopstick, that ends in a point at the other end from the bowl of the spoon. It is simple, elegant, and looks nothing like most spoons you see in modern life.]
This comedic mask looks scary, but the Louvre tells me it was painted salmon-pink. I can’t decide whether that makes it better or worse.
[ID: Two images of the same comedic mask, a large leering face with a mouth set deeply into a long square beard. In the second image, the initial monochrome mask has been tinted salmon pink, or as close as I could get with five minutes in Glimpse.]
Definitely want to write a story where a pickpocket has to steal the ring off someone’s finger in order to unlock a treasure palace. Probably to star Ea-Nasir as either the mastermind or the key-keeper.
[ID: A photograph of an ancient metal key; it has teeth and grooves like a modern key might, but instead of a “shaft” like a modern key, it’s attached to a ring and meant to be worn on the hand.]