Aside from the obvious continuities, the pottery of this period has some new features, in both shapes (Figure 40.1) and decoration. These trends may seem at odds. On the one hand, decoration abandons the naturalism of the previous period, even on Crete; on the other, a ‘pictorial’ style emerges that will last until the end of the Bronze Age. In both cases there is a more or less pronounced break from Neopalatial pottery.

How does conflict (both enacted and potential) change, shape, destroy and otherwise modify and affect material culture? In addition to these questions, this chapter examines how “things” can act as propaganda, as mechanisms of survival, and as creations of the destabilizing and stabilizing effects of war, peace, and the gray area in between. As scholars increasingly interrogate the meaning and chronology of war, peace, occupation, and the definition of categories such as refugee, how do they incorporate material culture?

Around 1700 bc the reconstruction of the Knossos palace includes a fresco programme as never seen before. This new decorative fashion spreads rapidly to the grand urban residences and villas across numerous Cretan sites. The main buildings of the Cycladic towns, influenced by Minoan art, also adopt these wall paintings. In the Minoan colony of Kythera, but also in the southeast Aegean at Trianda on Rhodes (another probable colony) and at Miletus, fresco fragments have been found. This new art form even appears at sites beyond the Aegean world, like Avaris in Egypt, Tel Kabri in Galilee, and Alalakh in Syria.

The use of figurative painting in architectural adornment is new for the Aegean world in many respects. To begin with, it is the first time that Minoan artists conceive of their artworks at a scale other than the miniature, even though there do also exist miniature frescoes.

This chapter explores cultural practices of reenacting the past in the present. How have understandings of reenactment, embodiment, and lived experience shaped, constrained, and misdirected interpretations of people’s actions in the present that purposefully reference the past? What is the state of this scholarship? What are the principal critiques and new directions?

How is the material world affected by place? How does an urban, suburban, or rural environment shape spaces, the built environment, and the form and use of objects? Why does this matter? This chapter explores siting and location as important factors in understanding the material world. The chapter also addresses the concepts of non-place and repulsive places.

It is difficult to get a sense of the palaces’ overall plans because we only know them in patches. The best conserved group of rooms comes from Phaistos (Levi 1976; F. Carinci, 9th Cretological, 2006, vol. A2, 23–39). Neopalatial construction on the top of the acropolis has meant that an important section of the remains of the first building, at a lower level on the southwest slope, has been preserved (Figure 13.1). Particularly notable among these remains are rows of storage magazines and a set of spaces interpreted as cult rooms; thousands of clay sealings that were baked in the fire marking the end of the period attest to the existence in this sector of administrative activity.

The many variations in vase shape and decorative syntax mean that several phases can be distinguished (IIIA2, IIIB1, IIIB2), at least in mainland Greece. The prolific output of workshops during this period brings about the development of ever more pronounced stylisation and abstraction. Still, it is not the case that this evolution is quite as linear as has been assumed, and the relative degeneration at the end of this period is likely less to do with a weakening of artistic sensibilities and more the disruption of pottery production after the serious destructions of 1250 bc.

Furumark’s (1941) study on Mycenaean pottery in general, and on this period in particular, remains pivotal, even though at the time of its publication the number of known vases was limited and their contexts not always tightly dated.

Throughout this period not a single seal seems to have been produced in mainland Greece or in the islands; the recent discovery of two clay cylinder seals on Aegina remains isolated and unparalleled (W. Gauss, R. Smetana, in Touchais 2010, 170–1). On Crete, on the contrary, the establishment of the palatial system brings with it, at the same time as the use of writing, a considerable resurgence of glyptic. The quantity of seals, the stylistic diversity, and the range of quality (material used, care and finesse of engraving) suggest that their users were numerous and did not come only from the elite. This could explain the diversity of local traditions, from the Mesara to east Crete.

Figurines and models provide us with a picture, albeit limited, of the Neolithic world: people, houses, furniture, boats, birds, and quadrupeds (S. Nanoglou, in Fowler 2015, 621–37). Most typically in ceramic, these representations are also made, as in later periods, in rarer or more precious materials, such as marble, bone, or shell.

Minoan Neopalatial art results in large part from the demands of the elites – those in power, leaders, or officials. The main artworks come from their residences – palaces and villas, the latter taking inspiration from the principles of ‘palatial’ architecture – and from the sanctuaries that are largely controlled by these same elites. Frescoes, ivory or faience statuettes, and relief-decorated stone vases illustrate the ceremonies around which social life took shape.

Was this religious art? Artworks are fundamental to what we know of Minoan religion, albeit only offering testimony that is indirect and implicit. If the theme of ‘epiphany’ is often broached, the divinity herself is rarely represented in an unequivocal manner: one of the few exceptions is the Saffron-Gatherers fresco from Akrotiri, with its enthroned goddess flanked by a griffin.

Alongside cylinder and stamp seals designed for impressing decorative motifs into large jars or hearth rims, true seals – that is, those for imprinting signs into clay sealings – now make an appearance. Early Bronze Age (EBA) glyptic is best known from the sealings accidentally fired in the destructions at the end of Early Bronze (EB) II, as found, for example, in buildings such as the House of the Tiles at Lerna. Such sealings were pressed against the lids of jars and on the openings of chests or doors in order to regulate the movement of commodities of various kinds. The mark of the seal allowed for the identification of the individual responsible for the goods in question. Once the sealing was broken in the process of accessing the contents secured inside, it was then kept as an archival record of the transaction.

Where is the line between virtual and real? This chapter introduces readers to the complex components, physical and virtual, which constitute our rapidly changing digital world. It examines how digital forms of representation blur the boundaries between what is considered material. The chapter addresses issues of transcendence and transgression in virtual space.

The study of materiality and religion incorporates spaces, equipment, dress, and other material expressions of belief. The study of material religion and spirituality has taken a truly interdisciplinary turn in scholarship and this chapter explores currents in scholarship that embrace a material approach to understanding lived religion, organized practices, as well as religious opposition and conflict.

Bronze vessels become more and more common on the mainland. Previously limited to the main Peloponnesian centres (tombs at Mycenae, Sparta, Pylos), they now appear in the regions of Achaea, Attica, and Boeotia (Matthäus 1980, maps pl. 64 A and B). There are also many on Crete, in the palace of Knossos and in the warrior burials (M. Popham, H. Catling, BSA 69, 1974, 247–52). They consist chiefly of large basins, adorned at the rim and handle, as well as piriform jugs with a decorated band on the shoulder (AE2, fig. 93). Taking their inspiration from Minoan Neopalatial vessels, the typical motifs are ‘snails’ (Matthäus 1980, n° 392), common also in goldwork or ivory, or stylised lilies, as on the rim and shoulder of an oenochoe from tomb 12 at Dendra (Åström 1977, pl. XXVII).

The middle of the third millennium bc sees a new phenomenon – the development of fortified settlements in mainland Greece and the Cyclades. The fortifications at Lerna, barely preserved, are built around 2500 bc; with a rubble foundation and a mudbrick superstructure, they have semi-circular towers protecting access (Figure 7.1) and include rooms covered with tiles or schist slabs. These enclosure walls also exist in central Greece (Wiencke 2000, 649), at Kolonna on Aegina (where they are comparable to those of Troy – AE1, fig. 43) (Aruz 2003, 260–1), and in the Aegean islands, from the northeast Aegean to the Cyclades. At Kastri on Syros the wall blocking access to the site had six horseshoe-shaped towers, which in turn were protected by an outer line of defence (ArchReports 53, 2006–7, 83, fig. 99).

The Mycenaean palatial period can be compared to the peak of the Cretan Second Palace period of Late Minoan (LM) I, in terms of both its length and splendour. It lasts for around 150 years, from the appearance c.1350 bc of the palaces at Pylos, Mycenae, Tiryns, and Thebes until their disappearance c.1200 bc. In terms of relative chronology, it includes a first phase (Late Helladic (LH) IIIA2), defined by a ceramic style that comes to an end in the last third of the fourteenth century bc (M. Wiener, BSA 98, 2003, 239–50; D. Aston, in Gauss 2011, 1–12). The following phase (LH IIIB), which spans the thirteenth century bc, is itself subdivided in two parts (B1 and B2), separated by significant destructions, particularly at Mycenae and Tiryns. Around 1200 bc, the palaces are destroyed, never to be rebuilt; all signs of the existence of an administration (writing on tablets, sealings) disappear.