Literatura científica selecionada sobre o tema "Greek Portrait drawing"

The Spanish collection of the Stroganov Library reveals Spain as a country with a rich cultural heritage. The last owner of the family library, G.A. Stroganov, was the Russian ambassador to Spain, and his interest in Spanish subjects was reflected in the book collection. One of the most valuable publications is a series of engraved portraits of outstanding Spaniards, published from 1791 to 1819. As a cultural time-specific project of the Enlightenment era, this series reveals the value priorities of Spanish society, which allows us to understand its socio-cultural guidelines over a long historical period. An impressive share of the persons selected by the Spaniards among their outstanding representatives belongs to university figures. This speaks not only about the influence of the Age of Enlightenment, but also about the rich history of university tradition in Spain. The subject of our study is the figure of the Spanish humanist H. Núñez de Guzman (1475-1553). In his youth, he studied with Nebrija. In the College of St. Clement in Bologna he started studying the culture of classical Greece. After returning to Spain, he studied Hebrew and Arabic in Granada. He was invited by Cisneros to the University of Alcala to work on a project to create a multilingual Bible. At this university, which became an important center of Spanish humanism, he taught rhetoric and Greek. In 1524, he received a chair of Greek at the University of Salamanca, where he also taught Latin, rhetoric, and lectured on the "Natural History" of Pliny. In Salamanca, Núñez published commentaries on the works of Seneca (1529), Mela (1543) and Pliny (1544); he prepared a collection of proverbs in the Castilian language, which was published in 1555. A deep connoisseur of Latin and Greek, Núñez is considered the patriarch of the Spanish Hellenists. They were a cohort of humanists who, on Spanish soil, combined in their worldview the features of the outgoing Middle Ages and the ideas of the Renaissance. Núñez played a significant role in the development of the Greek language as a subject of study in Spanish universities. The Greek language, the knowledge of which nourished and developed humanistic upbringing and education, gets its spread in Spain during the life and activity of Núñez. In the series of portraits of outstanding Spaniards, the portrait of Núñez is placed in the fourteenth notebook, published in 1802.The engraved portrait is made by Esquivel according to the drawing of Engidanos. Núñez is depicted sitting in nature with an open book in his hands. In the biography attached to the portrait, it is noted that "few have more reason to be included in the list of outstanding people than Fernando Núñez de Guzman. His character, his erudition and behavior are an example of the highest honor." Núñez donated his valuable collection of books in Latin and Greek to the University of Salamanca. Núñez remains interesting for researchers today. The image and selfless devotion of the erudite continue to evoke deep respect, and the legacy left – gratitude.

Abstract The juxtaposition of the Catalogue of Heroes and Anchises’ presentation of the fate of souls immediately preceding it in Book 6 of the Aeneid is a meaningful one. Building on Feeney’s ‘paradox’ regarding the juxtaposition, this paper reinterprets the Catalogue by way of extrapolating from Anchises’ speech possibly profound implications regarding Rome’s future heroes. The problem is that that speech is ambiguous. Drawing on different Greek eschatological models for help in discerning the metaphysical interpretive possibilities of Anchises’ portrait, I show that the Greek rubrics do not in fact solve but contribute to the ambiguity of the passage. But they contribute in a meaningful way by rerouting the line of inquiry away from attempting either to pinpoint a singular philosophical influence or to determine once and for all what a soul’s fate is. Rather we are invited to reflect on how the very vagueness functions. This paper posits that reading Anchises’ speech through each of the philosophical models leads us to question whether Rome’s future heroes were so bright after all.

AbstractIt is a recognized fact that the majority of the many drawings produced in the 16th and 17th centuries have been lost. It is quite likely that a great deal of these lost drawings were the work of aspiring artists, done for practice during their training. Written sources, so-called 'Tekenboeken' and pictures of studios give us some idea of what such drawing exercises looked like. Series of eyes, noses, mouths, hands and feet, etc. served as preliminary exercices. Although these were recognized as very difficult assignments, their great advantage was that a single glance, even that of the young draughtsman himself, could establish whether the task had been done well, because 'mistakes are generally evident and can be seen and judged by everybody: for who is so dull and blind as not to notice whether someone has a deformed face, a twisted hand or a crooked foot?' (note 8). One duly wonders at the total absence of such drawings in Gerard Ter Borch senior's large collection of work by his sons Gerard junior, Harmen and Mozes. Apparently Ter Borch père was more selective than assumed by Alison Kettering in her introduction to the catalogue of the Ter Borch estate. Of the earliest drawings done by the young pupils in their first years, he seems to have concentrated on preserving drawings done from life and the young artists' own invention. As for drawings after prints, only copies of complete compositions were apparently worth saving. One could surmise that such practice drawings were executed on carriers which could be erased or re-used in some other way. The making of such carriers from box or palm wood and also from parchment is described in Cennino Cennini's 'Il Libro dell'Arte' (ca. 1400). The replaceable primer that was applied to such carriers consisted of ground white bone-ash mixed with saliva. According to Cennini, parchment 'tavolette' were also used by merchants to do their calculations on. The use of such parchment tablets is moreover confirmed by an early 16th-century recipe from Bavaria. The question arises as to whether erasable carriers were only used by beginners, as Cennini's text suggests, or by fully developed artists as well. This might provide a possible explanation for the total or virtually total absence of drawings in the oeuvres of some artists. Another question is how long this type of carrier remained in use. Research was sidetracked by the frequent occurrence of young artists drawing on blocklike boards or planks, notably on title-pages of 17th-century books of drawing models. In 16th-century iconography such boards appear to indicate the term 'usus' or 'practice'. They also refer to a Pliny text according to which drawing on boxwood boards was a fixed item in the education of well-born Greek children. The depiction of young draughtsmen with such drawing boards may therefore not represent actual studio practice but allude to the aspired high status of drawing and of the art of painting in general. The very nature of erasable carriers means that traces of them are rare. Those boards that have survived (Meder had published a number) are not acknowledged as such apart from the wax tablets intended for re-use in Classical Antiquity, and in the Middle Ages too. There are sporadic references in written sources. Karel van Mander, for instance, uses the term 'Tafelet' twice, the first time in connection with Albrecht Dürer who - significantly in this context is said to have portrayed Joachim Patinier on a slate (the ideal erasable carrier) 'or a tafelet'. Van Mander subsequently mentions a 'tafelet' in his biography of Goltzius, who was asked to do a portrait on a 'tafelet' in preparation for a print. The very strong likelihood that the term 'tafelet' was used to indicate a carrier suitable for re-use is endorsed by a recipe by Theodore de Mayerne (ca. 1630), who suggests two ways of making a 'tablet à papier' for writing on with a metal stylus: strong and well glued paper is spread with a paste of ground bone-ash, not mixed with saliva this time but with a weak gum solution. To prepare the tablet for re-use it could be cleaned with a wet brush. When the paper had suffered too much from this repeated treatment, it could be varnished, according to de Mayerne, after which it could be written on again with a pen, washed off again etc. Although de Mayerne recommends this 'tablet à papier' for practising writing, no distinction was made between carriers for writing and drawing (cf. Cennini above). We shall probably never know to what extent erasable carriers were used, but the foregoing remarks may shed a fresh light on a group of works of art, drawings with silver or other metal styluses on prepared parchment or paper. Instead of resorting to one of the highly specialized and expensive drawing methods which are often cited, for example in connection with Rembrandt's portrait of Saskia in Berlin with silver stylus on prepared parchment, such drawings may have been done on tablets which were not intended to be preserved. Goltzius' portraits with metal stylus as a rule were executed as drawings which served solely as the basis for a print. From a text in P. C. Hooft's Warenar (1616) we learn, that a 'tafelet' or 'taflet' was a booklet used as a scrap book and habitually carried in the pocket. A few of such booklets have survived. One is a booklet with fourteen prepared paper pages which belonged to Adriaen van der Wcrff. In it, writing with a silver stylus, he kept a record of the number of days he spent on his paintings. The first four pages of the book were prepared for re-use. The traces of earlier inscriptions can still be vaguely discerned under the new layer of primer. A second tafelet - originally containing twelve pages - was identified in the collection of the Rijksprentenkabinet (note 41). It was used around 1590 by a young painter who practised in it by copying fragments of prints.

This article puts forward a new later dating of the Greek manuscript BnF, Paris. gr. 1783 kept in the National Library of France and containing portraits of emperors of the Palaiologoi dynasty. The manuscript contains important texts related to the Constantinople period of court history and culture. Historiographers used to date the manuscript to the fifteenth century according to the portrait of Patriarch Joseph II (†1439), a famous participant of the Ferraro-Florence Council, which can be seen in the Italian fresco paintings of the fifteenth century. Meanwhile, the study of the manuscript’s palaeographical features shows that it was written by an anonymous scribe from Crete who worked in Venice and Rome for Italian humanists in the middle — third quarter of the sixteenth century. The handwriting of the famous Cretan calligrapher, employee of Francis I’s library in Fontainebleau Angelus Vergecius, as well as some other scribes associated with him was typologically close to the handwriting of the main scribe of the manuscript. Analogies to this handwriting can also be seen in the handwriting of Manuel Provataris, another famous scribe of the epoch, a Cretan Greek from Rethymno, employee and copyist of the Vatican Library. The new palaeographic dating of the Paris. gr. 1783 manuscript changes the date of creation of portrait drawings of the Byzantine emperors of the Palaiologoi dynasty and Patriarch Joseph II. Also, it is important to change the dating of all texts contained in the manuscript including such important texts as one of the three lists of imperial tombs of the Church of Sts. Apostles in Constantinople, as well the list of the offices of the Byzantine court. The Paris. gr. 1783 manuscript should be excluded from the circle of Late Byzantine booklore and attributed to post-Byzantine book heritage.

The bearded Eskimo Looking at old Inuit and North American Indian portraits one can see that the men very often have a full beard; these representations are in this respect factually inaccurate and also in conflict with the written texts from the Renaissance that describe these people as beardless. Based on actual examples, this article shows how this can be explained with reference to Renaissance anthropology: the beard showed what kind of humans those natives really were, which was far more important than showing exactly what they looked like in a mirror.Martin Frobisher’s expeditions in search of the North West Passage brought him to Baffin Island, and his 1576-expedition was the first to bring back to England a native Inuit man. This attracted huge public and probably also royal interest, not least when the Inuit showed his hunting skills by catching ducks with a spear in a river. On his second expedition to Baffin Island in 1577, Frobisher brought back another man, a woman, and a baby. These Inuits were also put on show and attracted huge interest. All these Inuits died shortly after their arrival in England, but before they died portraits had been made of them, and these portraits circulated in Europe less than one year after they were made in England. Except for one portrait of an Inuit woman and her child from 1567, these were the first authentic portraits of Inuits in Europe.Since European expansion into the wider world was still relatively new, it was important to make these portraits show what kind of humans these foreign people were. At one level, all the newly found people were the same and thus easy to categorise. They were all heathens, and Christian Renaissance Europe knew of two kinds of heathens, the people of Roman and Greek antiquity, and the savage or wild man frequently used as an emblematic figure. It was thus important to demonstrate this paganism, and the first portraits from 1567 and 1576 solved the problem in a very direct way, with writing on the portraits saying that this was a savage or pagan. On the 1576 portrait, made by the Dutchman Lucas de Heere in London, a text in French at the top explains this to be a “Sauvage” from the Northern countries. The three Inuits from the expedition in 1577 were drawn by John White among others, and in his portraits the Inuits were distinguished as heathen by arranging them in classical sculptural positions. However, when these portraits were copied in the Low Countries and in the German territories, this was not enough. Here they were sometimes supplied with a text explaining that these people were savages. But very often not even this was enough – perhaps because many people could not read – and so the savage or wild man was used as the model. In spite of the description of the Inuits as being nearly beardless, they were given a hirsute beard – just as had happened to the first portraits of the American Indians in the early 16th century when their savagery and paganism was to be communicated in engravings. In several different copies – made between 1578 and 1580 in the Low Countries and the German territories – of John White’s original and beardless portraits, the men had beards, whereas the woman remained the same as on the original portraits, as long as she was placed beside the man. However, in some cases, it was necessary to show the Inuit woman alone, and in these cases, she could not be depicted in the nude as Venus – as was done to show the paganism of the Indian women – because then she would not be recognised as an Inuit woman. Instead, she was given a club in her hand, the club known from the drawings of the wild men. In this way her savagery could also be represented in the illustrations.This visual indication of savagery is the reason why people who had been in the Arctic and had met Inuits depicted them with a huge beard while at the same time presenting these pictures as lifelike portraits of the savages of the Arctic. This, for instance, was the case with the wooden figure which Andrew Barker, the captain and leader of the James Hall expedition to Greenland in 1612, placed in the kayak which he donated to Trinity House in Hull in 1613.The article ends with a short description of the opposite situation in the Age of Enlightenment, when in Europe a huge beard became a symbol of masculinity, and when the beardlessness of the American Indians was discussed as an indication that the Indians, in the eyes of that age also, were considered to have failed to attain full development as men and as humans.Ole HøirisCenter for KulturforskningAarhus Universitet

Liszt followed the education of his own children through letters, but he rarely saw them while they were young. The education that Marie Sayn-Wittgenstein received in Weimar, when her mother settled there with Liszt, was completely different. The young princess was only ten years old and she read many classic and modern writers; she even translated some of them. Greek mythology had a privileged place in her education. She attended several concerts. Private teachers gave her lessons in drawing, history, and art history. She travelled with her mother to Berlin and Paris in order to visit artists’ ateliers, art galleries, and museums. Liszt gave them names and addresses of personalities to visit. Special orders of portraits sometimes followed these visits. The young princess served as a model for some of these painters. Princess Carloyne Sayn-Wittgenstein possessed a personal collection of drawings and paintings, and the young girl was encouraged to do the same. This can be seen in the letters that Liszt wrote to the young princess before her marriage.

The contrasts could hardly be drawn more boldly than in the speech On the Crown: from the majestic tone of the prayers that articulate the opening, the conclusion, and some transitions (18.1, 8, 141, 324) to the scurrility of the portrait of Aeschines' parents (18.129–30), from the noble conception of Athens' historical mission as leader in the fight for freedom (18.66ff., 199ff.) to the reading off of the names of the traitors of all the Greek states, a veritable muster-roll of infamy (18.295), from the portrait of the orator's own work in building a resistance to Philip (18.79–94,169ff.) to the depiction of his opponent's inertia, venality, obstructionism, and collaboration with the enemy. Black and white divide the canvas between them with very little room reserved for shading.

Abstract. The article features the results of the comprehensive examination of an outstanding piece from the Mykhailo Boуchuk school, «Portrait of a Lady» from the NAFAA funds. The research was done by the Associate Professor of the Department of the Technique and Restoration of Artwork of NAFAA, Tetiana Tymchenko, Ph.D, and the Leading Researcher of the Bureau of scientific and technical expertise «ART-LAB» Svitlana Biskulova, Ph.D, in connection with the planned restoration of the artwork. Since 2018, «Portrait of a Lady» has been attributed to Mykola Kasperovych (1885–1938), an outstanding painter, restorer and researcher. The reasoning is provided in the expert conclusion of the Head of the Ukrainian Art Department of the end of 19th — beginning of the 20th century of the National Art Museum of Ukraine Olena Kashuba-Volvach. The article lists the peculiarities of the techniques, technology, condition of the artwork from the NAFAA funds. In particular, it reveals the peculiarities of the preparatory drawing, imitation of the monumental art techniques by means of the easel painting, and individual techniques of working with paints. The paper specifies the time of the portrait creation, which indicates 1923 — probably, the year of the work creation, and the age of the lady from the portrait, 30 years. The technological examination of the portrait in the Bureau of scientific and technical expertise «ART-LAB» confirmed the dating of the work to the period of the 1920s – 1930s. The article clarifies important components of the portrait technology: in particular, it has been found that the ground is chalk-glue and the paints’ medium is casein-oil tempera; among the pigments the zinc white with an admixture of lead white, yellow and red ochre, Ivory black pigment (burnt bone), mixed green pigment (burnt bone and yellow ochre) were identified. The examination revealed the traces of restoration interventions of different times. The paper features a number of considerations regarding further research of Boychukists’ creativity from the point of view of technology.

In the prologue to the Rhetorica ad Herennium book 4, Cornificius boldly departs from tradition: he will create his own examples to illustrate styles and figures of rhetoric, rather than drawing from poets and orators, as Greek manuals typically did. This methodological discussion, which resembles a declamation, portrays itself as an exemplum in that it embodies the precepts exposed in books 1, 2, and 3. Moreover, this exemplary discussion partakes in a larger debate between philosophy and rhetoric and must be considered in its historical and cultural context.

Innovations and creations in fields such as religion, thought, art, literature, music, wisdom, gnosism and philosophy are the common products of the human civilization epic. Almost all these creations are the result of chained and cumulative efforts based on the common heritage of humanity throughout history. Again, every thinker has established and grounded his system of thought by interpreting, renewing, updating and adding to the legacy of previous thinkers. As a matter of fact, each successor set out with the power and inspiration he received from his predecessor, deepened and grounded the legacy of previous civilizations with his criticisms and contributions, or changed his route and qiblah. In this respect, it can be said that every wise humanity is a "sparrow on the back of an elephant", which consists of the huge accumulation of the civilization epic. The metaphysical fire of love, which never goes out in the depths of man, has led him to reach peaks, to produce superhuman mythologies, to create mythical characters, to assume divine qualities, to create perfect human or human-idols and prophetic characters who imitate God and it led him to attempt to establish a luminous realm, the city of the sun, the holy harem, the ideal place, the madina al-fazila or the city of God on this cold and dark earth. When the history of Iran is examined religiously and intellectually, it is seen that Iran has a deep-rooted and very ancient tradition formed thanks to this metaphysical love of people. It is understood that this deep-rooted tradition preserves its existence even under major crises and shocks, and does not lose the traditional Iranian theme despite all interruptions and disconnections. Traditional Iranian wisdom has accomplished this by changing shirts, renewing and updating in every change and transformation, but always nurturing the Iranian traditional spirit and preserving its main codes. As a matter of fact, Iran transferred the Greek philosophy spread by the world conqueror Alexander to Hellenism, the harsh Mongolian shahs to the Sufis, the God-centered strong Semitic tradition to the human-centered Arya tradition, the Semitic prophets to the mythical Iranian shahs, Zal to Ali, Husayn to Rostam, Turan wars to Karbala literature and in the final analysis, converted Islam to Shi'ism and turned it into an Islamic-i-Iranian based on its own existence. The subject of this article is Kayhosrow, an example of perfect human in the ancient Iranian mythical and religious tradition. The central position of Kayhosrow, who is considered to be the most important of the Iranian mythical prophet-kings who have hurrah, expressed as divine charisma, magnificent light and magical nature, has been traced throughout the study, especially in the texts of Zoroastrianism and Illuminationism (Ishraqiyyah). In this study, the phenomenological method was followed and the characteristic features of Kayhosrow, who constituted the ideal perfect human portrait of both religious and intellectual schools, were revealed. The aim of the study is to capture the timeless spirit of eternal wisdom (al-hikmah al-halidiyah), primordial yeast (al-hamirah al-ezeliyah), transcendent wisdom (al-hikmah al-mutaliyah) and unchanging truth by drawing attention to the qualities of Kayhosrow, who is considered the most important example of a perfect person in Zoroastrianism and Illuminationism. At the end of the study, it was concluded that Kayhosrow, thanks to his divine charisma (hurrah), was a prophet-king who combined both material world management and spiritual sovereignty, a perfect human being who carried the Nur-i Mumammedi, an ideal ruler who set an example for the rulers of all times. With this study, in addition to Kayhosrow’s life full of adventures such as what he experienced before his birth, what happened to him after his birth, the way he was brought up, the way he came to the rulership, and the right-minded and successful world management, his chose to go into isolation, especially when he was at the peak of power and power, and ascended to the sky and disappeared from the eyes with ascension, have been shed light on the fact that Kayhosrow have become one of the most attractive and extraordinary characters in history, showing the mortal man the way to immortality.

Abstract Edith Snwell wrote her Façadepoems as studies in word rhythms and onomatopoeia. They may appear to be nonsensical, but a continuous thread of allusions and images runs through them and evokes the bourgeois culture of turn-of-the century England-references to Queen Victoria, Tennyson, the Greek goddesses, flowers, trees, the music-halls, Spanish lovers, Negroes, English girls and nursemaids. Many of these are allusions to events and people in Edith’s unhappy childhood. The poet and her brothers decided they would be suitable for presentation as a drawing-room entertainment, a highbrow extension of country-house charades, and ought therefore to be accompanied by music.

Abstract Chapter 4 concentrates on imperial Greek fascination with inscriptions to explore how inscribed monuments are integrated into literary texts, analyse how these textualized memorials are used to construct new temporalities and commemorative meanings, and examine the commemorative deployment of physical inscriptions that act in analogous ways to the literary examples. The chapter argues that imperial Greeks use commemorative landscapes and the monuments embedded within them to create a context for their innovative, future-conscious artistic endeavours, and the temporal and cultural meanings they generate function socially and politically as much as culturally. The commemorative capacity of the artefacts examined is emphasized by how they are shaped by text or their physical context as epitaphic, whether they be boundary markers, altars, honorific inscriptions, or casualty lists. Tombs and epitaphs thus form a focus of discussion. The chapter falls into four main sections. The first establishes cultural influences on elite imperial Greeks in their literary engagement with monuments and the metaphoric application of the monumental to text, drawing especially on Aelius Aristeides’ Sacred Tales and Philostratos’ Lives of the Sophists. The second section probes literary and physical engagement with inscribed monuments that mark boundaries through Philostratos’ In Honour of Apollonius of Tyana, Lucian’s True Stories, and the portrait herms of Herodes Attikos. The final two sections examine, respectively, the literary and physical appropriation of cultural memory for one’s own commemorative purposes in Arrian’s Anabasis and Herodes Attikos’ villa at Loukou-Eva Kynouria.

Abstract Chapter 5 homes in on the honorific statue and examines the attitudes of Greeks in the Roman empire to its commemorative capacity. Expressly designed as a commemorative artefact and embedded within civic social praxis, a statue should be a desirable honour. This chapter argues, however, that imperial Greek literature and aspects of how statues are deployed in reality instead cast honorific statues as deficient honours and ultimately unsuitable for personal commemorative ambition. The chapter begins by establishing the place of statue honours in the Roman empire and their perceived commemorative limitations. It then turns to examine several literary and material strategies employed by imperial Greeks that are designed to counter these disadvantages. Topics covered in detail include how statue programmes on monuments are used to amplify commemorative claims; how texts are used to create tailored, imaginary, and inviolable spaces of honour for individual statues; how the replication of private portrait types can extend a carefully crafted reputation to a broader audience; and how literature can remove the limitations of the honorific statue by animating it and instilling personality. Herodes Attikos again forms the focus of material discussion, but the texts are drawn from a much broader field, including Favorinus, Apuleius, Aelius Aristeides, Polemon, Philostratos, Arrian, and Dio Chrysostom.

Chapter I draws on Lucian’s Portraits to envision composite iconic figures that readers construct from other literary portraits. Ten “snapshots” provide raw material for such composite images of Pythagorean women. The snapshots are drawn from Pythagorean acousmata; Plato’s dialogues, and the writings of Aristoxenus, Dicaearchus, Neanthes, and Timaeus of Tauromenium. These extracts cited in the works of Imperial writers are shaped by several competing ideologies that cannot be reduced to a single originary account about historical Pythagorean women. Next to testimonies praising Pythagorean women’s aristocratic pedigrees and traditional virtues are found others asserting their achievements as philosophers. It is possible to arrange these literary portraits into different modern narratives, documenting either the exclusion of women from Greek philosophical history or their exclusion. But second-century CE testimonies reveal an ancient reading practice that favored a narrative of inclusion.

Chapter 3 explores Toyota Corporation’s hybrid automobile, the Prius, as a consumer icon of green virtue, charting media representations that portray the Prius as a vehicle of ecopiety as practiced through acts of consumopiety. It then sharply contrasts these eco-pious cultural readings of the Prius with ones that are intensely hostile and resistant. Drawing insight from “moral foundations theory” and its theorized connections to political disparities in environmental attitudes, this chapter’s media analysis of the Prius provides an opening into the complex incongruities between media “encoding” and media “decoding,” as messages of the Prius as icon of “environmental piety” get filtered through different power dimensions of class, gender, sexuality, and race. The resulting oppositional narratives give rise to the new and fascinating “subgenre” of pornography called “pollution porn.” This chapter probes seemingly unlikely, but nonethelessoperative, class-based media interventions into a dominant environmental discourse that is often perceived to be elitist, self-righteous, and smug.

While a great deal has been written about the choice and types of animals shown in scenes of sacrifice in ancient Greek art, there has thus far been no study of heads and horns as an isolated category. Many vases portray horned animals as victims and there is surely much to be gleaned by careful observation of their body postures, function in the scenes, and interaction with other figures, be they human or animal. Thus, this paper investigates horned animals in representations of sacrifice in the artistic repertoire of Archaic and Classical Greece, with careful attention to their heads. The evidence will be drawn from the black- and red-figure vases of Athens, with a few examples and comparisons drawn from other regions, such as Corinth, Boeotia, and East Greece. After reviewing the evidence of horned animals on the “animal style” vases of the 7th century BC, the various positions of horned heads in pre-death sacrificial scenes are presented, as well as the ways that the humans and objects present in the scenes interact with and draw attention to these particular animal parts.

Abstract Several movies that have gained worldwide popularity in recent years have highlighted a sense of diYculty and dismay in accepting the inevitable and sometimes radical challenges and changes that Buddhist institutions and practitioners have undergone in modern times. The 1980s film The Funeral, by the late Itami Juzo, portrays a Japanese Buddhist priest performing traditional mortuary rites, such as the bestowing of a posthumous Buddhist name, as an activity that seems hypocritical and corrupt in a modern world characterized by avarice, jealousy, greed, and the breakdown of long-standing family structures. Similarly, The Cup (1999), by Khyentse Norbu, a Tibetan lama who studied Wlmmaking with famed director Bernardo Bertolucci, shows a group of young monks who, despite their monastic robes and shaved heads, are more eager to watch an important soccer match on television than to adhere to their strict training program that does not allow for secular distraction. Such images of Buddhism caught between worlds—one seemingly archaic and pure and the other fragmented and contaminated by impurity— are frequently reinforced by other ironic media constructions of Buddhists. These include a variety of postmodern drawings of Bodhidharma shown as a kind of corporate samurai that graced the covers of Mangajin, a magazine on Japanese culture that was popular in the 1990s, as well as television ads for IBM that show monks secluded in remote mountains mastering the art of high-tech software.