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This article presents the results of a contextual analysis of graffiti found in Substructure II-B at the Maya city of Calakmul. The final use of this space was for the burial of an important Kanu’l lord, whose identity—as shown by a recent analysis of the Long Count date inscribed as part of the graffiti—seems to be that of Yukno’m Ch’een II. My analysis of the frequency of appearance of different categories of graffiti within the structure, compared to the frequency of the same categories within the total set of graffiti recorded in the Maya area, suggests that the main objective of its creators was the ritual reconditioning of this space: they wished to make it more suitable for the entombment of the ruler, through its aesthetic modification, in what constitutes an example of placemaking. The inclusion of images of deities associated with death, rebirth, abundance, and kingship reconfigured the room and transformed it into a sacred space in which the burial process could be properly carried out. Analyzing the graffiti in the context in which they are located allows us to better understand the intentionality of its creators.
Scores of young men and women were killed by regime forces during the Arab Spring in Egypt (2011–2013). Their photographs assumed iconic proportions, meandering online and off through countless acts of creative remediation. This essay examines the different kinds of social and political work that these photographs came to play during this period, including as indexes of the revolutionary cause and as mediators of revolutionary subjectivities at a distance. This essay departs from extant studies of visual cultures of secular martyrdom or funerary portraiture framed by notions of commemoration, and instead stresses contingent presence grounded in the specific liminal temporality of the revolutionary process. In this temporal limbo, photographs of martyrs often blurred conventional boundaries between representations and their referents. Established visual conventions of funerary portraiture were turned upside down, and portraits of martyrs were understood not as representations of the dead, but as alive and present, sometimes more alive than the dwindling group of dedicated revolutionaries.
Chapter 4 delves into the role of political brokers, referred to as punteros or referentes in Argentina, who are central figures in local political dynamics. The chapter is based on ethnographic research and provides a detailed description of these political actors, highlighting their skills and the resources that enable them to gain influence in their neighborhoods. Brokers function as key operatives for political parties, performing essential tasks throughout the year, not just during election periods. Their roles include the distribution of public goods and services, as well as the implementation of state programs in underprivileged areas. During election campaigns and on election day, brokers are not only engaged in clientelistic activities but also participate in traditional campaign efforts like canvassing and overseeing polling stations. The chapter shows that brokers, not parties, hold the resources and skills to connect with the poor. It underscores the pivotal role that brokers play in both the governance and electoral strategies of political parties, making them indispensable actors in the local political landscape.
The Central Mediterranean Penal Heritage Project (CMPHP) employs remote-sensing techniques to study and preserve archaeological remains of human confinement. Within this larger project, digital photogrammetry was used to document part of the castle prison in Noto Antica to identify and digitally preserve graffiti depicting galleys and gameboards.
Graffiti are often seen as providing a window into the emotions of ancient peoples. However, Byzantine graffiti has been viewed as an exception, with the formulaic Greek texts written between 300 and 1500 taken as evidence of communal identity, rather than individual expressiveness. However, variations in these texts can reveal much about an individual author and their personal experiences. In particular, certain formula suggest the dangerous situation an author survived, including incarceration and sea travel. This paper focuses on Corinth, Syros, and Tinos where individuals experienced danger, and how their fears and needs were manifested in the graffiti they left behind.
This article reconsiders a graffitied riddle from Pompeii (CIL 4.1877). It argues that slavery is one possible dimension of the puzzle, and that acknowledging the existence of slavery in this text testifies to the potential of Pompeian graffiti as a source for overlooked social histories.
This article revisits a famous graffiti poem from Pompeii (CIL 4.9123). It argues that the poem is both more erotically charged and more cleverly metaliterary than previously recognized; and that this reading of the poem offers new evidence for the literary richness of Pompeii's graffiti culture.
Precolumbian Maya graffiti is challenging to document because it is complex, multilayered, and difficult to see with the naked eye. In the Maya Lowlands, precolumbian graffiti occurs as etched palimpsests on parts of substructures such as stucco walls of residences, palaces, and temples that are frequently only accessible through dark and narrow tunnel excavations. Experienced iconographers or epigraphers with advanced drawing skills are the most qualified researchers to accurately record, analyze, and interpret precolumbian Maya graffiti. Because these scholars have a vast knowledge of conventions and styles from multiple time periods and sites, they are less likely to document the complex and seemingly chaotic incisions incorrectly. But as with many specialists in Maya archaeology, iconographers and epigraphers are not always available to collaborate in the field. This raises the question, how might an archaeologist without advanced training in iconography accurately record graffiti in subterranean excavations? Advances in digital applications of archaeological field recording have opened new avenues for documenting graffiti. One of these is Reflectance Transformation Imaging (RTI), a method that uses a moving light source and photography in order to visualize, interact with, and analyze a three-dimensional object in a two-dimensional image. With practice, RTI images can easily be produced in the field and later shared with specialists for the purposes of analysis and interpretation. Performed on a series of 20 unique graffiti from the Maya archaeological site of Holtun (two examples are presented here), RTI shows promise as a viable technique for documenting and preserving graffiti as cultural heritage.
This chapter presents a panoramic view of elements in the Linguistic Landscape (LL), using photographs from Ireland, North America, England, and continental Europe. The discussion focuses on the operation of language policies and language choices, the regulation of space in the landscape, discourse elements in graffiti and social protest, and the position of the LL in reflecting and commemorating history. The chapter argues that while language display is crucial to the LL, any written display of language also includes visual and spatial elements which are part of the LL. Some elements such as orthography, letter shape, and text colour, are close to the language system. Others include visual images, the physical medium and ground used for the message, and the size and placement of the message. The chapter takes an inclusive view of language, referring to a wide range of displays that involve lexical elements and copresent modes of expressing meaning. A focus on the LL as discourse shows that restricting the LL to written language is overly limited, and that oral tradition and discourse must also be taken into account.
Vernae—often but not exclusively taken to be home-born slaves—are usually thought to have had a privileged role within the ancient Roman household. While previous studies have highlighted how these individuals were represented with affection or as surrogate members of the freeborn family, this article uses epigraphic evidence from Pompeii to argue that the reality for at least some vernae was much more grim. A full examination of Pompeian attestations of the word verna reveals that there was a connection to prostitution in over seventy per cent of extant appearances of the noun. Furthermore, contextualizing this phenomenon within the corpus of prostitution-related graffiti more broadly reveals that verna was the single most commonly used descriptor in advertisements for sexual services at Pompeii. Ultimately, the epigraphic evidence from Pompeii suggests that vernae were not safe from sexual exploitation, and it may have been their status as vernae that made them attractive to those wishing to purchase sex.
This book explores how copyright laws are perceived within street art and graffiti subcultures to examine how artists and writers view certain creative aspects of their own practice. Drawing on ethnographic research and fieldwork, the book gives voice to the main actors of these communities and highlights their feelings and opinions toward issues that are increasingly impacting their everyday life and work. It also touches on related and complementary issues, such as the 'gallerisation' or economic exploitation of these forms of art and the curious similarities between the graffiti and advertising worlds. Unique and comprehensive, Copyright on the Street brings the 'voice from the street' into the debate over the legal and non-legal protection of street art and graffiti.
This chapter examines the application of the principles underlying artistic freedom in the public space, as well as graffiti and street art. To which extent are States obliged to promote, protect or safeguard artistic freedom when clashing with public interests, public order or public morality standards? Does the qualification ‘illicit’ or ‘commissioned’ play a role in preserving artistic freedom? And do these obligations go as far as safeguarding the individual artist’s right to artistic freedom in case of unpopular, controversial or offensive art and performances in the public space – or urban planning considerations, as in the case of the ‘La Demeure du Chaos’ (Abode of Chaos)? Furthermore, the chapter discusses the question of hateful, racist, sexist, misogynous or homophobic art in the public space, epsecially in light of State obligations to raise awareness and eliminate stereotyping. Last, drawing on numerous case studies such as the Great Wall of Los Angeles and murals painted in post-aparheid South Africa, the chapter explores potential obligations to preserve and safeguard street art – and artists’ frededom – especially in the case of large murals reflective of broad community participation and those that reflect human rights ideals.
This chapter investigates a selected translation and reception history of Catullus 85 in English, with a focus on Brandon Brown’s embodied retranslation. The chapter argues that embodied, iterative, intersemiotic, and pedagogicial translation strategies create ruptures in the hegemonic approaches to translating Catullus 85 in particular and canonical ancient Classical texts in general. These ruptures invite readers to engage more critically with old texts in new and renewed ways.
This paper examines five graffiti expense lists from Pompeii for information on the habits of consumption in the Vesuvian cities. It is intended as a contribution to the growing literature on economic well-being in Pompeii, focusing on the diet and consumption strategies of the nonelite Roman majority. These lists provide rare quantitative evidence for a portion of a whole diet, as well as nonfood expenses. They also shed light on the place of cereals in the overall Vesuvian diet, the importance of consumer goods, and cycles of plenty and want.
The story of the final months of Caesar’s life has been dominated by the question whether he wanted to be "king." That is to focus the question in a way that privileges the perspective of his assassins. Caesar himself was preoccupied at this time with massive preparations for a war of vengeance against the Parthians on a truly extraordinary scale. The knock-on effects of the mobilization effort were themselves extremely disruptive, causing an explosive intensification of the political game at a time when the Dictator was about to absent himself from the capital for several years. He had gravely alienated the urban plebs, encouraging the conspirators’ expectations (falsified in the event) that they would have popular support. The Caesarian coalition was coming apart, as shown by the remarkable clash between Mark Antony and Dolabella on the eve of Caesar’s scheduled departure. Caesar made little to no effort to create a new political system out of the ruins of civil war during the short period that he spent in Rome before his intended departure on an expedition that would keep him abroad for several years, much less to oversee a transition to a whole new kind of politics.
This chapter investigates the interplay of textual and non-textual features in the marking systems of three types of clay products widely used in Roman Italy during the first three centuries CE ‒ fine tableware (sigillata), shipping containers (amphorae), and bricks and tiles. The semiotic flexibility of the footprint as a polyvalent sign indicating both authorship and identity is illustrated by its use as a stamp on Roman tableware. The marks employed on amphorae to identify different phases of the manufacture, transport, and distribution of the vessels or their contents reveal a well-defined taxonomy of textual and atextual signs differentiated according to medium, placement, and stage of application. Brickstamps on larger bricks at Rome combined texts with semantically distinctive figured symbols (signa) in complex messages that identified brickyard owner, manufacturer, and origin; smaller bricks, when marked, bore distinctive patterns of atextual designs created by matrix. Atextual marking systems operated both together with and independently of textual markers, offering different advantages of utility (visual comprehensibility without need of literacy) and facility (being easily constructed out of everyday objects) in return for less semantic precision and differential range.
Excavations at Brandon House, Southwark, uncovered a fragment of Roman pottery with a graffito identified as the Chi-Rho symbol, only the second example to be found in London. This note describes the find itself and its context, presents an overview of similar finds from Roman Britain and offers a glimpse into the significance of the sherd as evidence for Christianity in Roman Britain and its place in the dynamic religious landscape of Roman Southwark.
For nearly 300 years, the Knights of St John forced a range of captives to labour on their galleys, with slave, convict and debtor oarsmen propelling the Knights’ navy in their crusade against Islam. This article considers how we can investigate these captives and the consequences of their presence in Malta by reconfiguring captivity as a process that extended into wider society. By seeking material traces of captivity at sea on board galleys and on land, the article opens new investigative avenues into early modern captivity in the Mediterranean. In addition, it brings to current debates a rare archaeological example of modern slavery within a European context.
Ancient markets and trading activity in the city of Athens are attested not only through literary sources describing where to buy certain goods and what happens when deals fall through, but also through the archaeology of market buildings, the equipment of buying and selling, and the containers for transporting and storing wine, oil, and other commodities.
This chapter gives an overview of all sources written in Anatolian hieroglyphs, that is, seals and inscriptions. Whereas cuneiform was the strictly internal means of communication within the kingdom, the hieroglyphs were used whenever the population at large was addressed. Given the sociolinguistic situation hieroglyphic inscriptions were written in Luwian, not in Hittite.