To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
Funerary architecture can profitably be analysed through the lens of connectivity. As material that connected the living and the dead, both at the level of the individual and the community, funerary architecture exhibits the values held to be important in both realms and, like religious architecture, is a vehicle for connecting the tangible and intangible. The characteristics and development of Etruscan funerary architecture have to be studied mainly in their connections with settlements, society, and domestic, religious, and foreign architecture. A case study of rock tombs shows the problems that arise in trying to identify certain forms as either predominantly local or international, and thus effectively signals the limits of analyses of geographical connectivity and the need to go beyond typology in certain cases.
Earlier studies have examined manifold connections between the city of Tarquinia and other parts of Italy and the Mediterranean. This chapter adds to these with a rich holistic analysis of the ‘monumental complex’ and the Ara della Regina sanctuaries, drawing out the cultural and religious attitudes of the community at Tarquinia that may have shaped their adoption and adaptation of external stimuli. Connections between the buildings on the plateau, the city they served, and the natural world around them are explored in ways that yield new potential insights into Etruscan rituals and the buildings that supported them. In arguing for the embeddedness of architecture in local and religious contexts, the chapter emphasizes the importance of returning to the lived experience of buildings, and in so doing raises important issues concerning the interplay between the local and the international in architectural design.
Following the reinvention of terracotta roof tiles in the second quarter of the seventh century BC, most probably in Corinth, the technology spread to other regions of the Mediterranean world. During the third quarter of the seventh century, several local and regional workshops can be identified, at select sites in Greece and in Etruria. By the fourth quarter of the century, decorated roofs are found in other parts of Greece and Italy. The most prolific and highly decorative period is the first third of the sixth century BC, when local workshops actively copied elements from elsewhere and invention of new forms was at its peak. This discussion focuses on the interrelationship between the roofs of different regions, the sharing of technology and of décor, in order to show the special place of Etruscan terracotta roofs in the evolution of this distinctive architectural feature. Etruria not only followed trends in terracotta roofing found throughout the ancient Mediterranean world, but also can be shown to have contributed specific roof elements and types of roof decoration which had a wide impact on later generations of roofs.
Architecture in Ancient Central Italy takes studies of individual elements and sites as a starting point to reconstruct a much larger picture of architecture in western central Italy as an industry, and to position the result in space (in the Mediterranean world and beyond) and time (from the second millennium BC to Late Antiquity). This volume demonstrates that buildings in pre-Roman Italy have close connections with Bronze Age and Roman architecture, with practices in local and distant societies, and with the natural world and the cosmos. It also argues that buildings serve as windows into the minds and lives of those who made and used them, revealing the concerns and character of communities in early Etruria, Rome, and Latium. Architecture consequently emerges as a valuable historical source, and moreover a part of life that shaped society as much as reflected it.
This book is focused on written and visual culture that is made in, or made about, Cornwall and where there is affinity with Gothic. Cornwall and the Scilly Isles (known as 'Kernow' in the Cornish language) have a special relationship with Gothic, one that has been overlooked in the literature on regional Gothic. In 1998, Avril Horner and Sue Zlosnik coined the term 'Cornish Gothic' in relation to the work of Daphne du Maurier. Since then, however, there have been few discussions of the distinctive types of Gothic engendered by cultural and imaginative re-creations of Cornwall or where it has played a generative role within creative practice. The book argues that a persistent imaginative romance with the peninsular has produced a specific and distinctive set of Gothic fictions and creative outputs that mark an exciting new departure in the discussion of regional and media-aware Gothic studies. Offering new insights into the relationships between place and Gothic, this book aims to engender and encourage greater debate through our argument that Cornwall plays a potent role in the landscape of regional Gothic and argues that it needs to be considered more fully as a major catalyst in the Gothic imagination.
This concluding chapter explores the construction of Greekness through Egyptian religion in Roman Greece. Using a scene from Apuleius’ Met. XI as a central theme, the questions of intersectional ethnicity, deterritorialization of Egypt, materiality, difference, and colonial experience are discussed. Isiac Greekness is then contrasted with well-defined Second Sophistic forms of Greekness, revealing that Isiac identity is defined according to different time-scales and geographical referents from, but through similar methods to, traditional forms of Greek ethnicity.
This chapter explores the idea of a cohesive Isiac identity in Roman Greece. Using R. Brubaker’s paradigm of groupness, it examines epigraphic and literary evidence that suggests the cults’ structures encouraged active devotees to identify with the cults. It also explores the geographic and spatial distribution of this evidence, which indicates that devotee communities at different sites sought to build religious and social ties across the region.
This chapter sets the practice of Egyptian religion in Greece in an imperial and global context. The rise of Isis and Sarapis as popular gods is considered alongside the development of Greek identities found in Second Sophistic literature and Roman provincial archaeology. Proposing a more intersectional and process-based approach, this chapter suggests a new framework for considering minority forms of ethnicity in the Roman Empire.
By focusing on built and natural landscapes in Isiac sanctuaries, this chapter explores the ways in which devotees used the cult for self-location: situating individuals and groups in relation to one another through geographic metaphors or thought. Using the sanctuaries of Marathon, Dion, and Gortyna as case studies, it explores the ways that devotees built references to the Nile into sanctuaries in order to create a Nilotic landscape appropriate to their conceptions of Isis, and Egypt more generally.
Focusing on Isiac hymns called aretalogies that appear across Achaia, Macedonia, the Greek islands, and Asia Minor, this chapter explores the ways in which Greek devotees conceptualized Isis. It first discusses prevailing Greek stereotypes of Egypt, which emphasize timelessness, experimentation, and wonder. Then, it explores the aretalogies themselves and how they universalize Isis and embed her and her companions in Greek myth and geography.
This chapter considers the role that ideal sculptures in sanctuary settings play in the process of self-understanding: the beliefs and ideologies that give shape to a group and also inform how outsiders perceive the group. Using the Sarapeum of Thessaloniki as a case study, this chapter defines the Greek sculptural types and materials used most commonly to depict Isis and Sarapis in Greece, and explores their relationships with Greek sculptures that were often displayed alongside these images.